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  As Kirby sat down, Jake, feeling annoyed, stood directly in front of him. “So you want to suck my dick right here on the beach, bro?”

  After putting his sunglasses on, Kirby looked up at Jake, but didn’t say anything, knowing that Jake was taunting him. But Jake’s still wet, sunbaked skin and lean, ripped, muscular physique made Kirby’s mouth water with desire. He had wanted to tackle Jake to the ground and fuck him silly from the moment he saw him at the airport, and he had been counting down to the moment when he’d be able put his hands and mouth on his boy’s flesh.

  “You know you want it,” Jake said as he stepped away to sit in his seat.

  Kirby did want it. Bad. And he indicated so by using his right foot to graze Jake’s leg when he stepped away.

  Jake recognizing the nonverbal cue, retorted, “But you’re not gettin’ any.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Kirby finally said.

  “Yeah, we’ll see,” Jake said dismissively.

  “Yeah, we will,” Kirby said, firmly this time and with an air of confidence.

  * * *

  Chapter Four

  After spending the rest of the afternoon hanging at the beach, Jake and Kirby eventually made their way back to the house, but not before stopping at the local market to grab some steaks to grill on the barbecue for dinner. Their testy exchange on the beach just a few hours before now a distant memory; they easily settled back into the affable and congenial dynamic that characterized their long relationship. Working side by side in the kitchen, Kirby seasoned the meat for the grill while Jake made a salad of spinach, blue potatoes, bacon, crumbled Stilton cheese, toasted walnuts, and hard-boiled quail eggs, a favorite of his that his mother would often make.

  After stepping out to the back patio to grill the meat, Jake and Kirby continued to chat and gossip about friends and other people’s relationships, carefully dancing around the topic each had at the forefront of his mind. Kirby longed to discuss starting fresh with that “new beginning” he and Jake had toasted to earlier in the day. Kirby still felt a sense of wonderment and shock that Jake had left Amanda so suddenly, abruptly, and completely a week before their huge, highly anticipated, multi-million-dollar wedding. It’s what he had been hoping for, but in truth never expected in his heart of hearts, especially after Jake had told him that he wanted to end their sexual relationship. Kirby felt so full and overwhelmed by this presumed act of love on Jake’s part that he would sacrifice so much to be with him and keep their special bond intact. All Kirby wanted to do was make love to Jake and hold him tightly in his arms, and then repeat over and over again, all night long.

  But Jake’s mind was still on the love of his life. Amanda. He wanted to pour out his heart to Kirby and tell him what really happened. Why he was forced to let her go. How it was necessary to protect her and to save her from the dangerous alter ego he had been led to believe she had. Jake was crying inside. His heart ached as he contemplated the pain, sadness, and disbelief in Amanda’s eyes when he said goodbye to her in her condo that fateful morning. Jake hated himself for not standing up to Rick and Mike, for taking their word without confronting Amanda directly about their revelation. But why would they lie to him? Mike was his boss, he’d looked after Jake at the firm from day one. And Rick was Amanda’s father, why would he want anything other than his daughter’s happiness? No, Jake really hadn’t had a choice. They’d told him confronting Amanda was dangerous, marrying her could kill her, and offered him millions of dollars to walk away, so it had to be true. Jake felt completely helpless and hopeless. He swore to keep what he had been told a secret for the rest of his life; he could do that for Amanda, he could protect her. But it was killing him. That night he and Kirby both needed to be loved, to be comforted, and to be held, but for different reasons and in different ways.

  After they finished dinner Jake took the initiative to clean their dishes while Kirby plopped down on the living room sofa feeling full and content after his tasty meal. He picked up the remote and turned on the large flat-screen TV.

  “See if the Dodger game is still on,” Jake said as Kirby channel-surfed. “I think they’re playing the Padres again today.”

  “They are, but they’ve already lost the first two games of the series. I don’t have high hopes for them making it to the postseason this year, man.”

  “Kershaw had a pretty decent game pitching-wise, but they had no offense yesterday,” Jake said as he and Kirby continued to lament the trials and tribulations of their team’s roller-coaster season.

  Jake eventually joined Kirby on the large sectional sofa which had a chaise on either end. While Kirby stretched out comfortably at one side, Jake took the chaise at the other.

  Why don’t you come join me over here on my chaise? Kirby silently beseeched Jake as he looked over at him. But Jake didn’t stare back. He kept his eyes on the TV screen, appearing oblivious to Kirby’s longing for him. Kirby didn’t want to push the issue recalling Jake’s comment on the beach, “You’re not gettin’ any.”

  A not uncomfortable silence fell between them as they watched the rest of the baseball game. Kirby had nothing but carnal knowledge on his mind though. With a boner raging in his trunks, he kept replaying in his head various scenarios of how and when he and Jake would finally connect. It was destined to happen sooner or later, he concluded. As the game moved into the ninth inning, he looked over at Jake and saw that he appeared asleep.

  Indeed, Jake had dozed off, losing interest in the low scoring ballgame his team appeared to be on the brink of losing.

  “Jake! Are you awake?”

  Jake’s eyes popped open at the sound of Kirby’s voice. He lifted and stretched his arms upward as he yawned long and hard.

  “You sleeping, man?” Kirby asked again.

  “Yeah. I’m pooped. Who won the game?”

  “Padres.”

  “Of course,” Jake said sarcastically as he lifted himself up and turned to place his feet on the floor. “I’m going to take a shower. Then I’m going to bed.”

  “I think I’ll do the same,” Kirby said.

  As they both got up and walked toward the bedrooms, Kirby recalled that the room where he dropped his bags and changed before they left for the beach earlier in the day didn’t appear to be the same room Jake was using. “Where’s your room?” he asked Jake.

  “I’m there, just down the hall,” Jake said, pointing.

  Kirby looked at Jake feeling crestfallen and rejected. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” Jake replied nonchalantly.

  Kirby turned away to walk into his bedroom suite, but the energy of his body language caught Jake’s attention.

  “Why?” Jake finally recognized Kirby’s disappointment, as he stepped out of sight without answering. “Kirby?” Jake called, following after him into his room. “What’s wrong?” Jake asked, as Kirby quickly stripped off his trunks and tank top, standing naked.

  “I guess you really meant it when you said I wasn’t gettin’ any,” Kirby said in a fashion that sounded dejected and flirtatious at the same time. He then strutted his muscular frame suggestively into the bathroom without waiting for Jake’s response.

  Jake had meant it but he couldn’t help but notice the proud and confident black Adonis that stood before him and the ten-inch dong that hung so prevalently between the most impressively sculpted quadriceps he’d ever seen. When Kirby turned to enter the bathroom, he made sure Jake would have a good view of his defined V-shaped back, his taut, muscular hamstrings, and his perfectly round ass, so smooth, firm, and sensual to the eye. The thick black lines of the tribal tattoos that graced his upper arms, accentuated his deltoids and biceps in a way that made them look bigger and more pumped, especially when Kirby was completely nude. Regardless of one’s sexual orientation, Kirby’s sex appeal and masculinity could not be ignored, and as always, Kirby’s hotness was as tempting as ever to Jake. However, Jake did not pursue his friend. Instead, he turned around, walked down the hallway to his bedroom,
undressed, and stepped into his own shower.

  When Jake finished showering, he dried himself off and brushed his teeth before turning out the bathroom lights. As he walked toward the bed, he was startled to see Kirby lying on the edge of it. Jake, so languid and ready to sleep, didn’t notice Kirby until he came right up on top of him.

  There Kirby lay, leaning back on his elbows, butt naked, legs slightly spread apart, and feet on the floor, looking straight at Jake, quietly waiting for him. Seeing how his unexpected visitation had stunned Jake into silence, Kirby lifted himself up and reached out to grab Jake’s hands. He tugged Jake toward him as he fell back onto the bed, pulling Jake on top of him. Once he had Jake pressed against him, flesh to flesh, Kirby locked Jake in, embracing him tightly and wrapping his strong legs around the other man’s waist. Now face-to-face, just inches apart, Kirby stared into Jake’s eyes softly, but with determination to take physical dominion over his boy. “I love you, Jake,” he said, before clasping the back of Jake’s head with his right hand and pulling it just enough so that their lips finally met.

  Jake didn’t resist as Kirby initiated what began as sweet, gentle pecks to the lips. Then Kirby kissed the tip of Jake’s nose, went back to his lips, and then down to the tip of Jake’s square jaw. As he licked the light stubble of Jake’s unshaven jawline, Kirby’s hunger and desire for him intensified. His kisses and licks became unrestrained sucks as he pulled on Jake’s face with his mouth. The taste was intoxicating. Jake moaned in reaction to the sensation of Kirby’s wet mouth on his skin. Then Kirby returned to Jake’s lips. “Give me your tongue,” Kirby commanded and Jake obliged, plunging it deep into Kirby’s mouth for him to suck. As their characteristically aggressive open-mouthed kisses progressed in passion and intensity, Jake slowly began to surrender to the emotional power and physical hold Kirby had over him. “Let me love you, Jake,” Kirby stopped to say before their tongues collided again in a lascivious display of heat and mutual attraction.

  Kirby, still locking Jake in his embrace, turned him over so that Jake was now on his back and Kirby on top of him. Kirby pulled up to behold and admire Jake’s beautiful body—lean, hard, ripped, and completely tanned with a bronze sheen. It was like a wonderland laid out for his exploration and indulgence, and Kirby descended upon it with a sense of thrill and adoration as he consumed Jake like he was a mouthwatering feast, savoring the taste and feel of his body from his toes to his chest and everything in between.

  Jake moaned with pleasure as he tightly squeezed his abdominal muscles and his hips to control the orgasmic explosion that was on the brink of erupting in response to the electricity and titillation sparked by Kirby’s insatiable worship of his body. Jake could not contain himself for much longer as Kirby homed in on his member, deep throating him without coming up for air, using only his nostrils to breathe. Edging Jake closer and closer to climax, Kirby drove his mouth all the way down the shaft of Jake’s cock and back up to the mushrooming head, squeezing and massaging it tightly between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, before going down deep, again and again.

  Just as he was about to explode, Jake warned Kirby that he was about to come. He tried to pull out so that he could finish the climax off by stroking himself, but Kirby would not release him. Kirby moaned deliciously in response to Jake’s announcement of his impending orgasm and the grip of his mouth became tighter, the tugging more intense. “Oh my God! Oh fuck! Aaah . . . aaah,” Jake cried loudly, as he exploded in Kirby’s mouth.

  Unyielding, Kirby did not let up as he continued to suck and tug while swallowing Jake’s load. Jake continued to cry out as his body trembled, slightly raising himself up and falling back down a couple of times and then squirming on the bed; squeezing the sheets in his hands, curling his toes and pulling his legs up and bending them back down. It was as if he was trying to free himself from an overdose of ecstasy and sensual pleasure.

  Kirby did not leave a single drop, mercilessly sucking until Jake’s sex fell limp on his pelvis. After he had his way with him, Kirby pulled himself up on the bed to lay flat on his back next to Jake, feeling satisfied and reassured that Jake was now his and his alone. Kirby had never swallowed before, but somehow the act made him feel like he had entered new territory in a relationship he coveted.

  Jake, on the other hand, laid there motionless, recovering from the onslaught, feeling only numb and spent.

  * * *

  Chapter Five

  The Climent family driver, Carl, a middle-aged African-American gentleman who had worked for both Amanda’s parents and her nana for years, arrived at Sierra Towers to pick her up in a Rolls-Royce Ghost, one of two Rolls in the family’s fleet of luxury vehicles. He’d been sent over even though Amanda had not requested his services. When he called to inform her that he was downstairs waiting in the porte cochere, it took Amanda by surprise. Although she adored Carl and felt badly for his trouble, she apologetically and politely declined being chauffeured, preferring to drive herself instead.

  Amanda pulled up to her parents’ house at seven p.m. sharp, just as her mother had requested. Their nasty exchange earlier that morning had, if anything, served to snap Amanda out of her funk and sparked her curiosity about her parents’ sudden desire to discuss her unplanned pregnancy. To her knowledge, nobody other than her parents knew. She hadn’t even told Lucy or her sister, Alexandra. Although it might have seemed presumptuous and intrusive to some that her parents had so abruptly announced a formal meeting to discuss such an intimate matter, Amanda knew that was the Climent way. The issue would now be official family business. After all an heir to the Climent fortune was a significant matter with all sorts of implications for the family’s legacy, and the reality that this particular heir would technically be a bastard child was something Amanda suspected would be a source of consternation and concern, at least for her mother. She expected a confrontation.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” Rick said as he embraced Amanda warmly and kissed her on the forehead. Camilla stood beside him and looked on silently.

  “Hi, Dad,” Amanda replied softly.

  “I’m so glad to see you. We’ve been worried about you,” Rick said; he kept his arm around Amanda as they walked toward the dining room.

  Amanda didn’t reply. She just stared blankly ahead.

  Feelings still raw from their exchange earlier that morning, Amanda did not acknowledge her mother. They both seemed content to have Rick facilitate and carry the conversation as they sat for dinner.

  “Have you spoken to any of your friends, Amanda? Mom says several have even called her asking after you. Isn’t that right, dear?”

  “Yes, that’s true,” Camilla said simply.

  “You spoke with Lucy, didn’t you, dear? Who else?” Rick said, trying to prompt his wife to elaborate.

  “Yes. Lucy, Kennedy, Lexi, Joanna, Rachel . . .” Camilla waved her hand indicating the list continued. “They said that they hadn’t heard from you after numerous attempts to reach you. You should try to connect with them. They all love and care about you. They just want to know you’re all right.”

  “I will. I’ve just needed time to myself. And there hasn’t been much to say, really. I was dumped by my fiancé. What else is there to know?” Amanda said as her eyes began to fill with tears.

  Rick reached over to comfort Amanda by placing his hand on top of hers before she grabbed her linen napkin to pat her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry for all of the time and expense that you put into my wedding. I know that a lot of money was wasted and I—”

  “Oh, no, no . . .” Rick and Camilla immediately began to speak in unison to reassure her and discourage such talk.

  “This is not your fault, Amanda,” Camilla said, showing more sympathy and compassion for her daughter’s pain than before. “You couldn’t have known something like this would happen. Jake turned out to be more of a chameleon than any of us could have imagined. Everyone was hoodwinked. Everyone!” she repeated, gritting her teeth, appearing genuinely dece
ived and upset about the sudden turn of events.

  “I just don’t know what happened, Mom. It was so sudden and out of nowhere. The whole time he was speaking to me, when he was telling me that he wanted to call everything off, he looked as if someone was holding a gun to his head. Like he was being forced to do something he really didn’t want to do. It was so surreal. It felt so hasty and impulsive, which is not like Jake at all.”

  Tears began to roll down Amanda’s face as she stared blankly, recalling the scene in her mind and trying to make sense of it all.

  “I know it sounds trite and it’s a bit cliché to say, but maybe Jake had cold feet,” Rick offered lamely.

  “What was there to have cold feet about?” Amanda came back quickly with a hint of irritation in her voice. “I’ve heard of having cold feet, but usually the signs are pretty obvious beforehand that something’s amiss. In this case there were no signs. I mean . . . I mean . . .” Amanda stuttered through her words as she fought back tears. “How . . . How do you make love to someone one day and tell them how much you love them and can’t live without them, and then the next day tell them it was all a lie. That you’ve been faking your way through it?”

  Not having a reasonable answer, Rick and Camilla both looked at each other and then looked down, appearing sad, uncomfortable, and wholly ill equipped to offer their daughter any words of consolation. At that moment, their cook and one of the housemaids entered the dining room to bring them dinner. Camilla seemed relieved for the interruption even though it felt ill-timed.

  For the next thirty minutes or so they ate mostly in silence until Rick finally spoke up to address the principal subject at hand.