Lexington Black (5 page)

'What are you, gay now?' The wolf-whistles,
the mincing about, all buying into that stereotype of the typical
gay man and laughing at his expense.

Shit, and now he was one of them. What could
he say?
Hey guys, just so you know, I like cock.

Just. Wait. One. Fucking. Moment. Lex had
made a pass at him. He had invited him to dinner. And he was
excited about seeing him again. Any one of those things meant
nothing.

Nothing.

It was just a chance to do something
different, to break up his dull-as-ditchwater weekend. So what if
the guy was gay and flirty with it? Rob could never sleep with him.
He wouldn't.

Would he?

If he did, it meant he could kiss goodbye to
the friendly joshing at work and see it replaced with nervousness,
even suspicion. Why was he being so nice to them? Was he trying to
pull? Was he eyeing them up in their greasy overalls and sweaty
hair?

He was over-thinking it. He had met people
like Lexington Black before. He toyed with people and threw them
away when he was bored with them. He was ruthless, a playboy. He
wasn't really interested in a boring English wannabee
novelist-cum-bookkeeper. He just wanted some idle fun whilst he was
in a strange country. Possibly a one night stand, something to
smile about when he was back on home territory.

It wasn't as if Rob didn't know how he felt.
After all, he'd had his fair share of unsatisfactory encounters
before he settled with Sandy, no-one who stood out as being
particularly special. Even with Sandy there had been no grand
passion. They were mates, in the buddy sense, not the "swan
partners for life" sense. Or they had been, before she had become
so angry with him.

In the few months since he had been single,
there had been no desire to sleep with anyone, even for a one night
stand. He felt like a blank canvas, someone ready to embark on a
life-changing adventure. Something had to happen or he would be
stuck in Shitsville for the rest of his life.

It wasn't as if he didn't have money to start
again. When he last looked, his severance pay and the proceeds from
the house had netted him around seven hundred thousand pounds which
just sat in the bank, waiting for him to do something.

The problem was that he was indecisive and
too careful. His flat was shit and he complained about it, but he
could be living somewhere far nicer. He just hadn't got round to
finding anywhere. And once the money was spent, that was it. He had
no means of getting it back, so why waste it on a chi-chi apartment
when he could be ... doing what?

What did he really want? He didn't know. Or
did he but he did not want to admit it? His head was full of the
sensual, flickering glances Lex gave him, the double entendres, the
touch of his fingers. The whole exotic mixture had left him hard
and spellbound. In the end, there was only one thing to do.

Naked, he brushed his fingers against his
erection. He had never, ever, felt that way with Sandy, with
anyone. It shocked him, how hard it was, and how hard it had been
for most of the afternoon.

He wrapped his fingers around his shaft. He
wouldn't sleep until he had blown a load, that much he did know. As
his fingers glided up and down his meat with practiced ease, he bit
his lip to stop the strangled cry although there was no-one to hear
it. No-one but him to witness the dawning of Rob, the hot, confused
mess of a man, greedily forming flashing images of two naked male
bodies, writhing in ecstasy on a huge bed, satin sheets, the
swordplay, the hungry, grasping hands and biting kisses in the
hollow of his throat, the greedy pulling at his balls, the slippery
joy of warm semen spurting over his chest.

'Fuck!' He grunted as he came, each pulse
sucking the life out of him. He sank back into the bedclothes, his
thoughts feverish. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

He tossed and turned for a while, but in the
end, there was only one person he felt he could talk to.

'Hello?'

'Geri? It's me.'

'Yeah?' And then, 'Rob, are you okay? It's
past two in the morning!'

'I don't know. I'm in real trouble, G.'

'What's wrong?' She sounded worried. 'Where
are you?'

'At home.' He could hear Simon in the
background, asking if everything was all right.

'Yeah, it's fine sweetheart. Go back to
sleep.' Movement and the creak of a closing door. 'What's up,
bro?'

'What would you say if I told you I might be
gay?'

Silence, then, 'impossible,' she replied
briskly.

'Why?'

'We shared a womb for nine months. I'd know
you were gay before you did.'

'I'm terrified, Geri. This guy...'

'Who?'

'A customer from work. He totally terrifies
me.'

'Why?'

'I don't know! I'm confused. My head's all
screwed up.'

He heard her sigh down the phone. 'At least
give me something to work with other than "I don't know."'

'Fine! I've just wanked off thinking about
him, okay?'

'Woah, I think that's called over-sharing,
bro.'

'Yeah, well you asked for it. Like I said, he
confuses me. When we were on a test-drive today, there was a buzz
between us. It was like he was trying to seduce me or something.
And I liked it. That's what I'm saying.'

'So if you liked it, why have you just woken
me up in the middle of the night?'

'Because he's invited me for dinner tomorrow
night. But what if I'm on the rebound after Sandy? What if this is
some kind of big "fuck you" to her for treating me badly? What if
I'm wrong? How can I reach my thirties and not notice that I might
be, even the smallest part of me might be gay!'

There was silence down the end of the phone.
'Ever had feelings like that before?'

'No.'

'Are you sure? I mean, it's okay. You are
allowed.'

'I've never felt like this before. Ever.'

'Maybe you've always assumed you're straight
because that is what society wants. It's a big deal to stick your
head above the parapet and say "hey, guess what!" Especially in our
tolerant, delightful family.' Her tone softened. 'Don't be scared,
bro. Go with it. Don't try to rush anything. Just see what happens.
I'm with you all the way, you know that.'

'Yeah, I know. Thanks, sis.'

'But if you beat off again, don't tell me
about it, okay?'

He laughed. 'I won't.'

She blew him a kiss down the line and hung
up.

Afterwards he lay there, with the mantra
I'm gay
spinning around his head. Had he always known it?
Known it and ignored it? Was it just a brief infatuation brought on
by extreme circumstances and desperation to get laid?

He padded into the living room, retrieved his
laptop and took it back to bed with him. Maybe the porn test would
do it. He Googled "gay porn" and clicked the first site that came
up, feeling slightly guilty.

That old Catholic upbringing
, he
thought, as he scrolled through images of beautiful, muscled men
doing things to each other that he and Sandy had never even
discussed. He settled down in the dark. Maybe by morning, things
would be a lot clearer.

******

He woke late, feeling refreshed and still
hard. He felt as if he had opened up an unexpected box of tasty
treats, and he had been given
carte blanche
to gorge himself
on them. Or someone had mainlined Viagra into his cock.

As it was Saturday, he could stay in bed for
as long as he wanted so for the first time in his life, he did. Not
since he was a teenager had he jacked off so much. All day he
lazed, read, wanked and ate fast food. It was the most blissful day
he could remember having for a long while, a real bloke's day. A
sensual, greedy, lusty, cock-centric day. When he showered and
changed to prepare for his meal that night, his mood was so high it
felt chemically enhanced.

Deansfield House was too classy a place for
him to bowl up to the front door in his crappy old Volvo, so he
borrowed the R8 instead. Paul was pleased to let him, giving him
the keys with a comment that he hoped the lucky woman would
appreciate it.

He had chosen to wear a suit as Lex seemed to
be one of those men who would be smartly turned out whatever the
occasion. He gave his red Italian silk tie a good sniff to make
sure it did not smell like kebabs. He could get away with it, he
thought, if he put on some Givenchy Gentlemen as a cunning
disguise.

The phone rang as he was walking out the
door. It was Geri, checking to see if he was back in the land of
the living.

'I can't chat for long. I'm going to the
Deansfield,' he said.

'With the Audi guy?'

'With the Audi guy.'

Immediately, he could tell her radar was
working overtime. 'The one who terrifies you.'

'Yeah, but ...'

'So is it a date?'

'I don't know.' He could feel his face
growing pink.

'It obviously is because you're blushing. And
don't lie because I'm your twin and I know these things. A gay man
asks you for dinner and you say yes. You're either totally fucking
confident in your heterosexual status or you're looking to
score.'

'It's prawn cocktail and steak. Let's not
over-think this.'

'Oh, I shouldn't be over-thinking this? I
wasn't the one who interrupted your fucking beauty sleep boo-hooing
about your latest jerk-off fantasy,
bro
.'

'Okay! It's a date. I hope it's a date. If
that means I'm waving the rainbow flag now, then fine. I'm cool
with it. I'm just ... apprehensive, that's all, about how the
evening will end. I mean, I'm a virgin, aren't I?' He glanced at
his watch. His heartbeat elevated as he saw how close it was to
eight o'clock. 'I need to go.'

'Good luck. If you need to call me later, you
know where I am.'

'Thanks, sis.'

He blew her a kiss down the phone and hung
up. His mood was light as he ran down the stairs to his car.
Something about talking to Geri and her knowing what he was doing
was reassuring. He did not know what would transpire in the next
few hours, but she had his back whatever happened.

Lex was alone in the hotel lounge when he
walked in. He was sitting by the fire, reading the Times, holding a
tumbler which Rob presumed held single malt. He was dressed in a
sharply-tailored jacket and tie, and Rob was glad he had decided to
wear the suit.

Lex pressed the tumbler into his hand and
urged him to try the Jameson.

Rob hesitated. 'I can't drink a lot. I'm
driving.'

'Possibly,' Lex said with a knowing
smile.

Obligingly, Rob took a sip of the whisky. It
was all smoke and fire. He nodded approvingly and handed the glass
back to him.

'And I've got a special treat for us,' Lex
said as they walked through into the dining room.

They were led to a table in an alcove, an
intimate space made for two. Other diners talked quietly at their
tables. A pianist played Gershwin on a grand piano at the other end
of the room.

'Here we are,' Lex said as a waiter
approached the table with a decanter of claret and a bottle. 'I had
this brought down from London this afternoon.' He turned the bottle
around so Rob could read the label.

'"Chateau Mouton-Rothschild 1982." Good
heavens, I am honoured. How did you find this?'

Lex looked pleased with himself. 'It's called
money, Rob. Money, persistence and a very good PA.' He smiled up at
the waiter as he waited for him to pour a taster into his glass.
'Let's hope it's worth the price.' He cradled the glass in his
hand, warming the liquid, then took a deep sniff, closing his eyes.
Rob watched him, transfixed. He wasn't just doing it for show. He
was a true connoisseur. He took a sip and thought for a moment.

'Superb.' He motioned at the waiter to
continue pouring. Rob empathised with the look of relief on the
young man's face. He murmured "enjoy," and left them alone.

'Your turn,' Lex said. He watched intently as
Rob picked up the glass, cradling it as Lex had done. He went to
sip at it.

'Smell it first. Tell me what you get.'

Rob obeyed. He let his nostrils flare as he
picked up notes of ... 'cedar, I'm guessing. I'm not very good
...'

'Well done. Now taste it.'

Rob took a mouthful. It was like honey
coating his tongue. It was better than sex. He felt his face flush
at the thought.

'That's obscenely good,' he said, when he
could speak again. 'I feel as if I've been groped by angels.'

Lex almost choked on his wine. He let out a
burst of laughter that drew disapproving glances from other
diners.

'I think we're going to have a very enjoyable
evening,' he said, and picked up his menu. 'I hope the food lives
up to it.'

Rob expected another Spanish inquisition
about his life and he got it. Lex had the skill of teasing
information out of people.

'When I lost my job our relationship went
downhill. Six months ago, I came home to find all my belongings on
the doorstep and the locks changed. I received our decree absolute
two days ago.' Rob toasted him flippantly with his wine glass.

Lex raised his own glass in return. 'What did
you do to piss her off, apart from lose your job, that is?'

Rob spread out his hands and stared at them.
'Looking back, it was never ... great. She was the prime mover in
everything we did. Holidays, big financial decisions, everything,
really. I was ... placid. People used to say she was the one who
wore the trousers. She accused me of being emotionally retarded and
I guess I was.'

'If I may say so, you don't seem the placid
type.'

'What type am I?'

Lex considered his question for a moment,
pinning him to his seat with those piercing blue eyes.