A Betting Man (5 page)

My legs shook almost uncontrollably as Terry swallowed my length and girth like I was a Popsicle. It was so fucking erotic I couldn’t look away. His hand cradled my balls and shifted between that and jacking my shaft as he bobbed up and down, taking me to the root and back again. I wanted to give him the keys to the city. I wanted to fuck him. Vibrations shot down my shaft and I almost screamed, shooting my load down his throat. My fingers fisted in his hair as my hips bucked. Terry moaned with my cock in his mouth and then came with a loud drawn-out groan. I collapsed on the floor as my legs gave out.

“Kent?” Terry whispered.

“Mmm?”

“Have you ever been with a man? You know,
that
way?”

“No,” I said, looking over at his confused face. “But I am seriously considering it now.”

I was too exhausted to move. We ended up sleeping on the floor, wrapped in each other’s arms.

* * * *

The next two weeks went by in a blur. I had another brand new pitch to make and Terry was busy, too. As the Christmas holiday approached, both of our lives became extra busy. I texted him every day without fail and he would bring me and Anna lunch at work. Anna loved Terry. They talked about interior decorating (which I knew nothing about) and the season’s newest shoes (same on that one). For a gay man, Terry didn’t really look the part, at least not the gay guys I’d seen running around New York. I’ll admit, I think of gay men in the stereotypical clichéd way most straight men do. And I was finding out day by day that I may have been cheating during my ‘gay chicken’ days.

On the weekends, when we could fit it in, I’d take Terry to Gray’s Papaya for lunch. It had become our ‘thing.’ We both ate them with onions now. Fuck it.

I was just getting ready to head out for lunch when my cell phone chimed. I looked at the caller ID and groaned. Shit. My mother. She called every few weeks to beg me to visit, so I toyed with letting it go. But I hit ‘talk’ and braced myself.

“Hello?”

“Kenny!”

My mother screeched. With her Southern accent it sounded like ‘Kinnay.’

“Hi, Mom.”

“I’m so glad you answered! Your father’s in the hospital, hunny, we need you to come home!”

I almost dropped the phone. Okay, so I could be a bastard to my parents, but that didn’t mean I wanted to lose one. My dad had spent hours teaching me to play football and quizzing me on the SATs. It was because of him I got into college.

“Where are you?”

“Saint Francis in Columbus.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I hung up the phone and walked out to Anna’s desk.

“Get me on a flight to Columbus, Georgia. Today.”

Anna nodded at me and picked up her phone. She looked back up at me. “Should I call Terry and cancel your plans?”

Oh shit. I’d forgotten all about my plans to take Terry out for a hotdog and then a boat ride. Shit!

I opened my mouth to tell her I would do it and then it hit me. Oh, this was perfect. My parents had been religious my whole life. I didn’t honestly know how they felt about homosexuality, but they’d been very faithful followers of their church for years so chances were good that they weren’t big fans. If I brought a man home, not only would it give me boo hoo points with Terry if they freaked, but I also might get a breather for a bit on the nagging to come home. I just hoped it wasn’t serious with my dad.

Plus, the icing on the cake was that I was bringing someone home. Something I’d never done. That went a long way in making people believe I was falling for Terry.

“Actually,” I said slowly, “get a ticket for Terry, too.”

Anna smiled wide. She didn’t say a word and picked up the phone. She looked up at me again and I raised a brow.

“I was just thinking,” Anna smiled slyly. “Did you want me to put ‘plus one’ on the advertising achievement party invite? I think Terry would love it if he could be there when you win.”

I smiled at Anna. She didn’t say if, she said when, like she knew I’d win.

“He really would love it, boss,” Anna said gently.

“Yes, go ahead and do that.”

Anna almost squealed.

Yep. I was going to win the damn bet.

The limo pulled up in front of Cassidy Messengers at around two and I was shocked to see Terry standing out front in rumpled khaki pants and a wrinkled dress shirt. The driver took his beat-up bag and Terry slid into the limo. I leaned over into his ear.

“Babe, what happened to the clothes I had messengered over?” I whispered.

“They weren’t comfortable, I’m sorry,” Terry whispered back.

I sat back in the limo and closed my eyes. I was surprised Terry had agreed to go with me, but I had made sure I sent him some decent clothes for the trip. We were quiet as we got to the airport and waited in line for security. Terry was searched, as was I. We made it to the gate with minutes to spare and then we were seated in first class. The flight attendant frowned at Terry’s clothing choice, but said nothing. Terry seemed uncomfortable and I took his hand.

“What is it?” I asked quietly.

“This is why I wanted to buy my own ticket and sit in coach,” Terry mumbled.

“It’s fine.” I squeezed his hand and tried to smile.

I closed my eyes and tried to get some sleep. I swore it felt like five minutes later and I heard the ding of the ‘fasten seat belt’ sign. Terry was trying to fasten his with shaking hands. I leaned over and helped him snap it in place. I gave him a quick kiss and held his hand as we came in for a landing. Once off the plane, we headed for baggage claim. I was hoping and praying that my mom hadn’t come to pick us up. My prayer went unanswered.

“Kinnay!”

I cringed and looked over my shoulder. My mother was running across the baggage claim area. Shit. I looked over to see Terry grinning. My mom plowed into me from behind and gave me a huge bear hug.

“Hi, Mom.” I turned around and gave her a proper hug.

“Look at you!” she fairly squealed. “You’ve grown!”

I shot a look at Terry, who was all smiles. I took a deep breath and braced myself for the theatrics. Southern style.

“Mom, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Terry Barron.” I watched my mom’s face, waiting for a frown to form. Instead, she smiled even wider and took Terry into her arms.

“Oh my gawd! Look at you! Aren’t you just the sweetest thaing!”

I swore my mom was a pod person. She turned to look at me with a grin.

“He’s so damn pretty, Kenny! Look at his eyes!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Samson,” Terry smiled.

My mother frowned and focused all her attention on me. Oh shit. Here it comes.

“So you changed it, did ya? You should be proud to be a Sumners! All those hoity-toity New Yorkers wouldn’t approve of your name?” My mom snorted.

I wanted to climb into the nearest hole. Terry was trying not to laugh at my mom’s use of hoity-toity, I think.

“Mom…” I began.

“No!” My mom put her hand up. “I get it. God forbid anyone knew you were actually a Southern boy and buttered your bread the same damn way they did. Albeit with a gold knife, I’m sure.”

I was shocked my mom knew the word albeit.

Terry snickered.

“Well, let’s not stand here all day!” She took us both by our biceps. “We’ve got some cooking to do!”

“Mom,” I stopped her and narrowed my eyes. “Where’s Dad?”

“Oh, he just had some indigestion. He’s at home. Doc gave him a clean bill of health. Now y’all keep up!”

My mom started walking ahead of us as I stood there dumbfounded.

“Come on now, ya hear?!” she threw over her shoulder.

Terry looked at me and busted out laughing.

I swore I was in another country. Alabama was seventy-eight degrees in the middle of December. What the hell? I was actually sweating in Kent’s mother’s truck. Kent looked like he wanted to climb into his own body and hide.

I thought it was hilarious.

Kent Samson, big time New York City advertising executive was born and bred in Alabama. The kicker was Kent referring to me as his boyfriend. We hadn’t even discussed that. I mean, I hoped that’s how he felt about me, but I wasn’t going to say it first. At least not out loud.

Everywhere I looked I saw red. Oh, no – I wasn’t mad. It’s just that the South loves their college football. We drove into towns I didn’t even know how to pronounce and a half hour later, we pulled into a long driveway that wove around a pond. I could see a tire swing hanging from one of the bigger trees.

As if reading my thoughts, Kent’s mom said “That was Kenny’s favorite place as a kid, Terry. He just loved the swimmin’ hole.”

“You have quite a bit of land?” I looked out the window of the truck.

“Over ten acres.”

“Well, it’s beautiful, Mary.” I’d been chastised within the first few minutes of the road trip when I’d called her ma’am. I wasn’t going there again.

“Oh my gawd, your daddy’s just gunna love Terry, Kenny!”

I leaned over into Kent’s ear. “Is yer daddy a big man?” I teased.

Kent eyed me sideways and huffed at me. I loved it. We pulled up to a very nice looking brick ranch-style home and a dog ran out to the truck. I’m used to poodles. This was a small car.

“Ajax! Don’t you be jumpin’ on our guests! Don’t mind Ajax, he loves people.”

“Ajax is a…?” I was almost bowled over by the small car named Ajax. The dog’s nose was in my crotch within seconds. You’d think I was hiding dog snacks in my boxers the way he was digging for gold.

“Bull mastiff,” Kent answered for his mother.

I swore the dog was going to eat me. Once he’d sniffed every orifice I had, he turned his attention to Kent. I smiled as Kent crouched down and Ajax sniffed him out. Kent looked sad.

“I know boy, I’m sorry.” Kent wrapped his arms around Ajax.

I felt my throat closing up. I’d never had a dog, but I swore there was sadness in Ajax’s eyes. He had missed Kent.

“Ajax! Stop molestin’ the guests!”

I looked up to see a man who was roughly the size of Paul Bunyan. His voice boomed across the ten acres of property. Kent’s mother took my hand and leaned into my ear.

“Don’t you pay him no mind. His bark is worse than his bite. Carl! Look what your son brought home! He’s got a
boyfriend.
”

I saw Kent tense on the other side of me and held my breath as Paul Bunyan cast a glance in my direction. Damn, that man was huge. No wonder Kent was built like a brick shithouse.

“Well now.”

Carl Sumners made his way over to me and looked me over from my ratty shoes to my purple streak. My five-foot-eleven suddenly felt like five-foot-two. The man was huge.

“You in a rock band, son?”

“No sir,” I put my hand out. “I work for a bike messenger service.”

Carl shook my hand slowly, all while eyeing me.

“And you still want to date my ‘the world revolves around me’ son?”

I chuckled at that and looked the man square in the eye. “Yes, I do.”

“Damn, boy. You got your work cut out for ya. I bet he makes you iron his underwear and all.”

“Nope,” I said. “He’s got a maid who does that.”

It was silent for about five seconds and then both of Kent’s parents burst out into fits of laughter. Carl Sumners smacked Kent on his back sending him a few steps forward.

“I like him, Kenny!”

Kent’s parents walked ahead of us and I took his hand in mine. He looked embarrassed at his parent’s behavior.

“I really like them, Kent. They’re very genuine.” I smiled as Kent looked shocked at my words. “No wonder you turned out so sweet.” I swear I saw something in his eyes just then. A pang of regret? But it was gone in a flash. I hope I hadn’t overstepped.

“Look at them Carl, holdin’ hands. Isn’t that just the
sweetest
thaing!”

Kent sighed in frustration and I chuckled, squeezing his hand.

“Well, let’s get dinner going. We have to chase down that chicken!” Mary sing-songed.

My eyes went wide and I looked up at Kent. “You kill live chickens for dinner?”

“She’s fucking with you, Terry.”

Kent laughed. It was the first real one I’d heard since we left New York and it sounded perfect.

The house’s interior was warm and inviting. Oversized chairs and a large horseshoe couch covered one side of the living room and plush carpet covered the floor. A large, flat-screen TV was nestled right above a fireplace… which seemed out of place in a state where it was in the seventies outside in December. I drank it all in. It was just so homey. Mary went and got us some sweet tea (apparently there is no other kind) and then shooed Kent off with his father to bring in our bags. I sat on the couch with my glass of tea and felt her eyeing me up and down.

“You know, Kenny has never brought someone home to meet us. You must be very special, Terry.”

I coughed lightly and smiled, looking around the spacious living room. “You have a lovely home.” My eyes drifted back to hers and I saw a look of surprise on her face. What had I just said? “Did I say something?”

“No, I think it’s the
way
you said it.”

“Pardon me?” And then it hit. I had been so comfortable in my surroundings, I’d let my guard down and my accent out. I was scrambling to come up with an excuse when Mary put her hand up to stop me.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. Your secret’s safe with me.”

She winked at me and I exhaled. “Thank you.”

“Kenny doesn’t know?”

I shook my head no.

“You on the run from the law?” She grinned at me.

“No, my parents,” I said with a laugh.

“Well now, seems you and Kenny have a lot in common.”

I sat forward and clasped my hands. “It’s not my place, but I can see how much he loves you both.”

Mary gave me a weak smile.

“That’s kind of you to say. Would you like a tour of the house?”

I said yes and Mary took me by the hand. There were three bedrooms in the house. The master bedroom boasted a huge king-sized, four poster bed made of pine. Then there was a guest room, which I assumed I’d be in, and Kent’s room. I walked around in a time machine. Kent’s football, tennis and golf trophies lined the shelves in his room. An “Indiana Jones” bedspread with matching pillow cases covered the queen-sized bed in the corner. There was a lamp that looked like a whip and a football phone on the nightstand. Hello, ’80s. Missed you!