The Ideal Side of Life
‘Imperfect, but inescapably a love worth
saving.’
Self-made entrepreneur Stephen Pritchard
was given a second chance at life and love when he met Carson. However, as of
late, their marriage has been anything, but ideal. Aside from the usual
occupational hazards and Carson’s inability to communicate emotionally,
Stephen’s learned marriage to a police officer, especially an attractive one,
comes at a price.
While shopping in the city, Stephen and
Carson unexpectedly run into Stephen’s former college buddy Dudley Kramer.
During the conversation, Dudley insists they attend an upcoming party at the
art gallery he owns. Believing the invitation to be harmless, Stephen convinces
Carson to go. But part way through the evening, he realizes Dudley’s developed
an unhealthy liking for his husband and the party isn’t as it appears. Illegal
drugs and partner swapping isn’t something Stephen bargained for, and neither
is the chain of events that follow. Disenchantment over the past, arguments,
and near fatal car accident suddenly puts his life into perspective.
Excerpt:
Days later, we found a notary in the local
directory and had new wills drawn up. When it came time to sign, Carson met me
at the notary’s office during a shift.
Light of step, he bounced up onto the curb
and hastily grabbed the door before I could. “After you,” he said in a
courteous manner. “Sorry I’m late.”
The entrance buzzed as the door shut
automatically behind us.
Glancing at my cell then him, I smiled.
“You’re right on time.”
We wandered through a narrow hall into a
confined waiting area. A large, potted palm was in the corner and four leather
chairs sat in a row in front of a window.
The secretary peeked above the edge of a
high wooden counter. “Names please?”
“Mackenzie and Pritchard. We have an
appointment at ten.”
“Yes, I found you on the list. One moment.
I’ll let Ms. Bouchard know you’re here.”
“Thank you,” I said absently, watching the
secretary’s rather rotund posterior wobble into the neighboring room.
“She needs to lose some weight.” Carson
leaned sideways, the protrusion of his bulky shoulder and thick jacket knocking
me on a slant. “You know, you’re looking pretty sexy today.”
Stunned by the crass remark, I gaped at
him, trying not to reveal any excitement whatsoever; if I did I would’ve been
done for. “Not so loud, hon. She might hear you.” Then I hastened to add.
“Sexy? Really?”
“Sexy.” Grinning mischievously, he fiddled
with my necktie, flicking the pointed tip of striped satin, and I felt myself
being drawn into his web of sexual debauchery. “Maybe I should arrest you and
throw you in the back of my cruiser. It would give me every excuse to fu—”
“Ms. Bouchard will see you now.”
Carson smiled and got up as if nothing had
happened. As for me, I’d been so enthralled by his dirty talk I didn’t notice
she was there and leapt out of my skin. Carson adjusted his hat and walked past
me, taking the lead. Bloody cheeky! I was so tempted to paddle his ass.
The appointment went off without a hitch.
While the notary reiterated everything in our new wills, page-by-page and
paragraph-by-paragraph, we signed. At the end, she produced a template of a
living will; something she suggested we have done as an additional precaution,
taking into consideration Carson worked a high-risk job. We had discussed it
once, but not in-depth. He told her he’d think about it then I wrote Ms.
Bouchard a check before we said our goodbyes outside the building.
Later that night, subsequent to the
consumption of a homemade seafood dinner that consisted of stuffed cannelloni
and a Caesar salad, we decided to hit the hay early. We’d both endured a long
day.
Carson stripped, tossed his clothes in the
hamper, and flopped out on his stomach, bunching a pillow between his head and
arms. After the mattress stopped bouncing and he’d found his comfort zone, he
muttered drowsily, “Can you cover me with the sheet?”
“Sure.” Ogling his ass, I removed my tie;
no matter the temperature, he always slept in the nude. As for my preference, I
was a pussy; anything below sixty-five degrees and I wore pajamas. Grabbing a
corner of the blanket, I separated the gray linen sheet and draped it over him.
“Thanks, baby.” He yawned, hugging the
pillow tighter.
“You’re welcome.” Removing my shirt, I
dropped it on the chair. Then I kicked off my shoes and unclasped my belt
buckle. I couldn’t wait another second—the smooth, muscular curve of his ass
under the thin layer of cotton and the way he lay with his legs spread; he was
begging to be molested. Crouching like a tiger, I moved in silently toward my
target and the edge of the bed, preparing to pounce.
“If you’re going to fuck me, do it quick
before I fall asleep.”
“Oh come on!” I exclaimed loudly, throwing
both hands up. “How did you know? What—do you have eyes in the back of your
head?”
“I didn’t know,” he murmured, shooting a
weary glance over his shoulder, “other than you’re taking too long to undress.”
“You know you’re a frustrating man. Every
time I try to be sneaky, you ruin it.”
Snuggling the pillow again, his chuckling
was muffled. “That’s because you couldn’t sneak if someone paid you. You’re too
obvious.”
“I’m not obvious.”
“You are. The whole point of sneaking
around is to avoid getting caught.”
“Why thank you for that useless tidbit of
information.” Sitting down hard on the bed, I pulled off a pant leg and caught
the other on my foot. “Now I know I’d be a lousy jewel thief.” I frowned in
disgust, tossing my pants with the intention they’d land on the chair, but they
hit it instead and slid to carpet. A dreary sigh seeped from my lips. I was too
damned lazy to pick them up.
“Don’t get upset.”
“I’m not.”
The bed shifted and when I looked, he’d
switched around to lie on his back. The sheet did little to hide his thick
erection that lay slightly bent against his left thigh. The image triggered a
glorious memory of Greece...and the beach. God, we needed to fuck—no romance,
just a good old-fashioned fuck.
“I ruined your fun, I’m sorry. How about I
pretend you’re not here?” He bent an arm over his eyes, sliding toward the end
of the bed, and sank into the bedding, getting more comfortable. “How about
something like this?”
When he’d moved, the top sheet had fallen
away completely. Hard and swollen, the muscular outline of his torso blanketed
in soft, dirty-blond hair appeared. Taking a moment to admire his body, I
didn’t readily answer.
“Baby…are you still there?” he asked, a
hint of apprehension lingering in his words.
Happy Yaoi Hunting!
Blak Rayne
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