Good morning and welcome back to Story Orgy Monday! I'm sorry to have missed last week, but I was caught up in the finishing of the Pulp Friction Finale- which by the way is now with the editor- so here today we have part three of City Secrets. Please enjoy!
Dec 22nd - His voice had never sounded so cold.
“Fuck! Shit! God damned…” Jordan wanted to die of embarrassment as his arms windmilled the air, his feet slipping and sliding on the icy ground. He was going down...in front of this pretty man with the most kissable lips he’d ever seen, he was…
His ass hit the ground and his head slammed back soon after. Sharp pain exploded in the back of his skull. The stars overhead danced for a minute, then everything came back into focus.
“I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?”
He turned his head to the side, wincing at the pain in his neck. “Yes, I’m fine. Are you?” Lester looked worried, and that pleased Jordan. Made him feel good, like … like he was an idiot. He pushed himself up on his elbows, grimacing as the cold seeped through his work pants.
“Yes.” A rueful smile played with the full lips, capturing Jordan’s attention again. “I um… just landed in a bit of brush. Broke my fall. I think you hit your head on a rock or something.”
Jordan reached up to the aching spot on his head, rubbed it gently. There wasn’t a knot, but sure enough he felt the thick wetness of blood. Not a heavy flow though. “It’s no big deal, just a scratch.”
He struggled to his feet careful to avoid contact with Les who was maneuvering himself upright as well. “Are you always this…” He trailed off realizing how rude the words he’d planned would sound.
“Clumsy?” Les had reached his feet, and stood about a yard away from Jordan. He seemed a little twitchy, as though he wanted to reach out and help Jordan, but wasn’t sure his assistance would be welcomed. “Believe it or not, no. I am ordinarily quite graceful. All those cotillions and ballroom dance lessons, I suppose.”
Jordan finally managed to get secure on his feet and took a minute to process that. Ballroom dance? Cotillion? He glanced at the Audi again. It was a pricey piece of machinery, and if the clothes Les wore were as costly as the car he drove...or the camera he cradled in his arms like a baby, then yeah. Lester Bergman, gay or straight, was way out of his league. “I’ll take your word for it, but I think it’s best if you...keep your distance, for both of us.” Mostly he meant that warning for himself, but he saw how it affected Les, and felt a little guilty. Unavoidable.
“I was going to see if I could buy you a cup of coffee, to thank you for your trouble.” Les ducked his head, tucked the camera under one arm and brushed at the snow on his pants with the other.
He’d hurt Les’s feelings, clearly, but Jordan couldn’t worry about that. He hardened his heart. He had to look out for himself, and protect his own… fuck. He was attracted to Les, more than he should be for such a short meeting, more than a lust for the body he couldn’t quite make out beneath the winter clothes. What was it about Lester Bergman that made his heart and mind retreat? Because even as he couldn't’ tear his gaze away from Les’s full red lips, creamy pale cheeks and bright blue eyes, barriers were slamming into place and warning bells were going off.
Lester Bergman was dangerous to him.
Dangerous with a capital D. And not just because he was clumsy.
“Fuck.” He whispered it, but knew Les heard. “I’m on my way home. It’s been a real long shift. And the only place for coffee is back the way I came from.” Or you could invite him to your place for coffee.
“To be honest, I’m quite concerned about that head injury.” Les straightened, looked him square in the eye again.
Jordan felt it like a punch to the gut. Lust seared through him… Powerful, consuming. And Les felt it too. He drew in a sharp breath, hoping the painfully cold air would counteract the sudden rise of heat in his body. “It’s nothing.”
“You could have a concussion.” Les pointed out. “I’m a lawyer. And...well, legally, I’d be responsible if anything happened to you.”
Snorting, Jordan stared at the smaller man. “You expect me to believe that you’re afraid I’m going to sue you? For a little knock on the head in the course of doing my job? I have insurance if there’s any problems.”
“But you’re not going to the doctor, are you? You could go home, go to bed and just not wake up.”
Jordan took a cautious step forward. “I don’t have a concussion.”
Stubborn. The man had seemed mildly timid, pretty and ineffective. Jordan hadn't known what to think when the lights in the field turned out to be this handsome stranger instead of the kids he’d fully expected to find.
“Possible, but not likely. This isn’t the first knock on the head I’ve taken. I’m fine.” Jordan gestured to the parked cars, trying to hurry the man along. His ass was uncomfortably wet and cold, and even so all he wanted was an equally cold shower.
“Okay. Can I be honest?” Les’s head tipped to the side, and he peeked up at Jordan through thick lashes, a sultry, sexy maneuver that seemed completely innocent, unless you counted the glow of heat in the depths of his blue eyes that spoke of knowledge and primal urges.
“That implies that you haven’t been so far.” His voice had never sounded so cold. He noted, narrowing his eyes and swiftly re-examining the stranger, looking for some signs… drug paraphernalia? Maybe he was out here meeting someone for a buy? Had Jordan been played? Of course there was no truly innocent reason for a man from the city to be out here in a field in the middle of winter, was there? Maybe he’d been burying a body. And maybe you’ve been watching too much Criminal Minds.
“Oh… No. I mean yes. I have been, mostly.” Les heaved a breath so deep that his jacket expanded and shrank visibly. “I’m going to get in that car and drive home, and even though home is only thirty minutes from here, I have a feeling we’re not ever going to meet again, and…”
At that moment, desire outstripped restraint. “And that would be a terrible thing, wouldn’t it?” He could do one night. Take Les home to his house, pour them both a beer...or coffee...let the impulses he’d been stifling take control. One night, because as Les had said, their paths weren’t ever likely to cross again after that. He was getting a little too old for the one night stands, but living out here made boyfriends and relationships challenging.
“It would.” Les nodded.
“I have coffee at my place, and its only a few miles up this road. Follow me, and I’ll make you a cup.” His voice grew deeper, huskier, as images played out in his head of just how they could spend the rest of the night. He didn’t quite like the way it made him feel about himself...like an opportunist taking sex where he could...but Jordan had a feeling...a shy, slinky, not quite out in the open ready to be analyzed feeling, that with Les he’d regret not taking what the man was so clearly offering.
Licking his lips, Les agreed. “I’ll follow you.”
Jordan waited while Les climbed into the Audi, which had been purring with the quiet elegance of an expensive engine in the background all through their talk. Once Les was safely behind the wheel of his car, Jordan turned back to the 4 wheel drive SUV he drove.
This is a bad idea. He climbed inside, buckled his seatbelt and waved to Les in the rear view mirror.
Since when is getting laid a bad idea? He turned the key and the engine roared to life. The cd player blared, filling the chilly interior of the vehicle with the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Under the Bridge. Lonely as I am. His gut clenched, the warmth of arousal faded.
Lonely. Was that why Les was so irresistible? Was Jordan so lonely that a stranger’s touch, a few hours in a stranger’s arms, were worth risking himself?
Risking what? What was he risking? More loneliness? Heartache when there wasn’t any morning after? No call back? No further contact?
“No expectations.” He said fiercely, shutting off the cd player and letting silence clear the air, and his mind before he backed up, turned the SUV around and headed back to the highway. “There won’t be any heartache, because this is all there is going to be, and I know that, and he knows that.
“It’s just sex with a hot stranger. Nothing you haven’t done a hundred times before.” He muttered as he entered the highway, glancing in the rearview again to see Les’s headlights, right there, following.
The sight didn’t warrant the relief he felt. A hundred was an exaggeration. He’d been having sex… in some way shape or form… since he was sixteen, and even if he counted college, he’d fall far short of that number. A half a dozen boyfriends, in twelve years wasn’t that many. And the one night stands… well they lacked something that his spirit craved, so he hardly ever indulged unless he really needed the release.
A hundred? He’d pulled the number from thin air with a desperate need to make this feel right. And failed.
His house appeared on the left a lot sooner than he was ready for, and he swung into the drive, pulling all the way forward so that Les could park in the cleared section of the driveway. Briefly, he contemplated driving on… over the field behind his house to the county road it butted up against on the other side, leaving Les behind. Not like the Audi could handle that off-road terrain. Instead, he pulled himself together. One night. Deal with the fall out in the morning.
So he pasted on a smile, and knew as soon as he stepped out of the vehicle and bumped into Les in the drive that focusing on the physical and ignoring the strange emotional chaos wasn’t going to be a problem.
His feet had barely found the ground before les was there, in front of him, face tipped up as though inviting a kiss. Jordan firmly shut out his turmoil and took the offered lips, moaning softly as the heat exploded from that simple touch of lip to lip. Yes… no problem until morning.
TO BE CONTINUED