Overboard (2 page)

T
otal waste of time
.

Duncan had seen the ad for the speed-dating service in the newspaper and known it would be a waste of time, but it had been so long since he had met a man that he had shown up anyway to give it a try.

He had even worn his nice flannel.

Damn, I need some new clothes.

Most of the men there were too old or too shy.

Duncan was already quiet enough. He needed a man who could bring him out of his shell.

That pretty boy, Sebastian, had looked promising until the timers had started and Duncan had watched him give everyone the silent asshole bad-boy treatment. It would have been better if he had done the same with Duncan. He could have called the guy mysterious.

But the guy wasn’t mysterious. He was just an asshole.

A gorgeous, sexy asshole with blond hair and blue eyes. Eyes he wanted to swim in. He looked like the kind of pretty boy who waxed every hair on his body. Just imagining his own callused hands rubbing against the jerk’s smooth skin almost made him go back and tell the sexy bastard his real name and ask if he wanted to go get some coffee.

What was the point, though?

Sebastian clearly just wanted to claim Duncan for a fuck. Guys like him weren’t looking for more than that. Duncan was. He wasn’t getting any younger and he needed someone to break up the long silences that haunted his apartment when he was there alone at night.

Besides, Duncan couldn’t afford to buy the coffee.

Mounting debts had forced him to sell his motorcycle the previous week. He would have preferred to sell his piece-of-shit pickup but if he ever got another job, he would need the rusty truck to haul the lumber and supplies to the worksite.

Drywall and motorcycles were a horrible combination.

He should have taken a shot with the pretty boy. He looked rich. Duncan could never let himself be tied to a sugar daddy, but some days it felt good to pretend he could.

His phone rang. It was Jason. They had talked a few times about possible projects but each had fallen through. Duncan hadn’t even met the man yet, but answering his call was Duncan’s only hope of paying his mounting bills.

“Hey. One sec. I need to pull over,” he shouted into the phone before setting it on his lap so he could work his way from the left lane of the highway to the shoulder on the right. Duncan hated rush-hour traffic. He preferred driving late at night when there were just a handful of people around.

It wasn’t that he hated people. He just got flustered in crowds. He was too huge and always felt like he was going to crush someone. Plus, he hadn’t told his family he was gay yet. He lived in Miami, a few hours’ drive from them. Every time he saw them, it was as part of a large family crowd, and he worried that he might accidentally out himself.

He almost wanted to be outed. At least the pain of not telling them would be replaced with the pain of being yelled at and ostracized.

Please let this be a job.

“Still there?”

“You don’t have a hands-free headset?”

“If you have a job for me, I promise that will be one of the first things I buy with the money. Right after the rent, the credit card bill, and something better than Ramen and macaroni for groceries.”

“Damn. You sound like a mess,” Jason said. “But, I have some good news. Are you interested?”

“If there’s money and I get to keep my clothes on...actually, if there’s money... What do you got?”

“Some rich dude hired me for a fucking, monster basement remodel. The basement itself is like three thousand square feet. He wants me to be the general contractor, but I’m tied up. I’m willing to pretend to do that while you do all the actual work behind the scenes. I’ll let you keep eighty percent of my cut. Plus, you’ll do all the drywall and other finish work and get paid for that too. Choose your own plumbers and electrical.”

“Yes.”
If only he had called last week before I sold the hog
. Still, Jason might have been the only person that Duncan could depend on at that moment.

“One catch. It has to be fast.”

“Even. I’ve got nothing else on my plate. Not even food.”

“Perfect. I’ll owe you one. This guy’s dad is a big shot and if we make the kid happy, we have a shot at some of the dad’s projects. He buys big old downtown structures and flips them into expensive condos. Anyway, I’ll email you the quote. Can you get there tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

Fucking yes a thousand times, Duncan thought. This was the type of job that could change his whole trajectory. Suck some rich kid’s dick for a couple weeks and start working for the high rollers. Well, not suck it for real, but make him happy. Or whatever.

He needed this money.

After reading the email from Jason when he got back to his apartment, he realized it was an even bigger project than Jason had hinted. Not only was it a big space, it was also high-end stuff. Some of which Duncan had never even heard of before.

Whatever. He was good with his hands. He’d buckle down and make it work. Duncan knew two things in the world. Ramen noodles only tasted good for a couple of nights in a row, and he could make anything work if it had an instruction manual.

If only men came with instruction manuals. Duncan thought about that guy from earlier. He was so damn pretty. If only there was an instruction manual about how to hook guys like him so they weren’t cheap weekend flings.

Whatever. He had a project. He’d be able to afford to go to his sister’s wedding without needing to sell his truck.

He still couldn’t believe she had decided to get married on a cruise. He loved his sister more than anyone, but until Jason called and saved the day, Duncan had had no idea how to pay for the ticket he had put on his credit card. And that didn’t even begin to address food, drinks or excursions.

T
he next morning
, Duncan pulled into a long, curved driveway in front of an enormous three-story house. No one needed a house that big, but if it paid Duncan’s bills and sent him on vacation, thank God for good old fashioned rich-dude gluttony.

When he rang the doorbell, he expected some old butler with a disapproving frown to open the door. Instead, no one answered. He glanced at his watch. It was nine in the morning. He had driven around the block three times to make sure he didn’t arrive too early.

He rang again.

The door opened, but no one was there. Imagining someone was watching him on a monitor in some dark hidden room, he tucked his hair behind his ears and entered while shouting, “Hello?”

“Make yourself at home. I’m fucking hungover and need coffee. I’ll stop down later, but I assume you know what you’re doing based on all the money I’m paying. The basement’s to your left. Unless you turned around like an asshole when you got here. Then it will be to your right.”

The voice disappeared around a corner before Duncan could see the owner.

Right. Eccentric, alcoholic, rich dude. Whatever. As long as the checks cashed.

The house looked like a dirty museum. Ugly paintings covered the walls. The furniture looked custom made for the room rather than standard sized. The oversized couch in front of the fireplace seemed perfect for someone as tall as Duncan to take a nap on after a long day of working. The tile on the floor had to have been imported from Europe.

Big money.

Clothes, pizza boxes, and beer cans littered the living room, trashing the classy appearance. It felt more like a frat house after a big party.

None of Duncan’s business.

He found the stairs after opening doors that led to a workout room, an office, and a bedroom. Duncan’s apartment could have nearly fitted into any of them, and, other than the workout room, none looked like they had ever been used.

The basement shocked Duncan. Cobwebs hung between the rafters in the unfinished space. Even the stairs were uncarpeted and open-backed.

What kind of person spends that kind of money on a house like this and doesn’t at least do a little bit of something to the basement?
It explained why Jason had not included a fee to remove whatever had been there before.

Duncan would need to set up a table right away. He needed a place to put the blueprint. The basement would be the biggest project he had ever done. Most of his jobs were bathroom or kitchen remodels with plans doodled on the back of envelopes. He had done the occasional basement remodel, but they had all been so much smaller than this.

Alone in the basement, the scope of the project almost overwhelmed him. He didn’t even know where to begin. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together, trying to convince the rest of his body that things would be okay.

After a quick pass through the empty space, he decided on two things.

He would be okay. The project was big, but it was just a bunch of smaller pieces and he knew how all those pieces worked.

And he needed some coffee too.

Besides, he wouldn’t even be alone the next day, when the other people he would be managing started working.

Duncan headed back up the stairs and followed the smell of the freshly-ground coffee to find the kitchen. The homeowner had his back to him. A sexy back, too. He was slim, but definitely fit. He had blond hair.

He looked too young to own such an expensive place which meant he must be a hardworking executive. With that body, maybe he was a delicious rock star.

That was the kind of guy that was worth a weekend fling.

Duncan wished he could flirt with the guy a little to find out if he might be gay, but he couldn’t while he was at work. He couldn’t risk the project. He needed the money way more than he needed a piece of ass.

“Is it okay if I have some of that coffee, too? If not is there somewhere close by that I can find some cheap coffee?”

The owner turned. He recognized Duncan before Duncan recognized him. “Oh, I’ll give you anything you want, sexy, nameless lumberjack. I thought you’d never ask.”

Shit. The jerk from that speed date. The world is very small and very cruel.

Duncan almost told him to take the job and shove it, but he needed the money too badly to do that. He cursed his sister once again for having her wedding on a cruise ship.

Sebastian, in his kitchen, without a shirt, was sexier than Duncan had remembered. Would a short fling with him really be so bad? He could work on the project during the day, and take the homeowner to bed afterward.

The man oozed sex appeal. Even the angle he stood at while leaning against the kitchen counter caused Duncan’s dick to try to stand up for a better view.

“Hey. Oh. Umm. I didn’t know you were you. Sorry about anything I said at the... well... sorry.”

The homeowner pushed the thought away. “No worries, friend. We all make mistakes in judgment. I’ll forgive yours. I’m happy to see you again and I assume I’ll get to learn your name now. At least so I know what to shout out when I jack off later today.”

Still an ass. Still flirting.

Still appealing in ways that made Duncan feel bad about his judgment.

“Sure. Duncan Mills. But I’m here to work, not flirt. This is strictly work.”

“I’ll put you to work. I’m even willing to help you put in plenty of overtime.”

Fucker. The way he nibbled on his lip while smiling made it worse. Duncan wanted to punch him in the face just as much as he wanted to press his body against him and rub against his dick.

He had to have a great dick. The world was certainly cruel enough to give a man like him a gorgeous, long, fat cock.

If Sebastian would just tone down his game a little bit, he would make one great lay. Nothing more than that, for sure, but Duncan figured that a guy like him knew his way around a bedroom. He would have plenty of experience from plenty of men who had been willing to give him a ride for a few nights.

Duncan shook his head. He had work to do. Besides, he wanted something real. Someone worth taking home and telling his parents about.

A rich guy like Sebastian only wanted someone like Duncan because he couldn’t have him. If Duncan ever did give in to him, Sebastian would toss him to the curb before the condom hit the garbage can.

The irony of thinking Sebastian was a man-whore while considering how great a lay he would be was not lost on Duncan.

Hopefully, Sebastian didn’t plan on running around without a shirt on all the time. That flat stomach and the V leading into his low-hanging jeans would be evil to look at every day. Duncan’s will was nowhere near strong enough to avoid that temptation for the length of the project.

Be strong. You can do this. No more players.

“Listen. I’m grateful for the opportunity to work for you, but it will only be work. You need to understand that up-front.”

“Sure,” he said, while flashing a lopsided, cocky grin that must have made plenty of men shove him onto plenty of beds.

Sebastian turned away, grabbed an oversized coffee mug from the cabinet, poured it full , and turned back to Duncan. “Strictly business.” He held the mug out for Duncan, “You look like a man that knows how to handle a big one. If you’re looking for something smaller, you’ll have to head to the gas station a couple of miles away.”

His cocky words and the swagger as he leaned against the cabinet made Duncan’s knees go weak.

He searched for reasons not to fuck the pretty, arrogant bastard right then and there. The only one he came up with was that he needed to get to his sister’s wedding and the job was his only hope. He needed to get it finished, and collect his money. He couldn’t let Sebastian’s lean body, lip nibbling, or pretty, fuckable face distract him and jeopardize the job.

But Duncan might have to do some flirting to make sure Sebastian kept him around, he rationalized. No matter how much he tried to tell himself that flirting was just a necessary evil to keep the job, his dick said that it would be the part he enjoyed the most.

Why do I always fall for the bad boys?

He flexed his leg muscles to try to fight off the erection that threatened to give away his desires.

The erection faded, but Sebastian’s smile told that he had seen it anyway, and wanted to see more of it.