Six Degrees of Lust (29 page)

do, or would like to do with somebody else.

ALWAYS REMEMBER I AM NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND

If all of the above is mutually agreeable, we can discuss

when and where.

Sam

P.S. That Travis dude was a jerk off and you’re better off

without him.

P.P.S. Next time you try to push me into doing something

I WILL hit you.

Mac finished reading the email, put the laptop on his bed,

and grabbed the remote control to do some channel surfing.

His “winding down after a long day routine” was the same

every morning: get home around three, change into something

comfortable, drown some fruity cereal in a gallon of milk, head

to his room to check his email, surf the net a bit, and watch one

of the shows he recorded every week. An hour or so later he’d

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be relaxed enough to go to sleep, right after he took care of his

business, of course.

But this morning he didn’t seem able to do things in order.

He’d checked his email upon arrival and done a happy dance

when he saw Sam’s name in his inbox. Then he got to thinking

about their phone conversation two days ago and how his gamble

had paid off. He was going to get to be with the sexy guy again.

He was going to get to feel Sam’s mouth around his cock and

his long fat prick up his ass, and he just had to take care of his

business right that minute, because thinking of Sam never failed

to make him painfully hard.

Eventually he’d gotten around to putting some sweats on and

made his way to the kitchen for his daily sugar fix, reading the

email two more times while he ate. And now he was carefully

considering his reply while he watched some TV, because he

wasn’t starting—or continuing—anything with the guy under

false pretenses.

He had to be straight up and not try to manipulate, or better

yet, challenge Sam into doing things he most likely didn’t care

to do. Mac would have liked going out a few times with the guy

and see where it went, but for numerous reasons that was not an

option. Still, he had to say exactly what he needed and hope it

wasn’t too much for the guy to take on.

§ § § §

July 1, 2009

New York City

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: June 30, 2009

Subject: Addendum to F.W.B. Rules

The moment you suggested we work something out I

204 Taylor V. Donovan

knew there would be rules, and I gotta say I more than

welcome them, as it will keep things from getting messy.

You’ll be happy to hear, or perhaps I should say relieved,

that it’d be highly impossible for me to get attached to

you. I’d need way more than what you’re offering in

order for that to happen and I honestly don’t think you

have any of it. Not to mention it wouldn’t be fair to start

anything serious with a guy unless I could make him my

first priority, and that won’t be an option for a few more

months. Sex is what I want from you, darlin’, and yes,

I’m sure I can handle it. Isn’t it a definite advantage that

we seem to be on the same page?

I agree to all your conditions but one, and have some of

my own to add.

The no pillow talk rule has got to go. I’m a talker and

refuse to remain quiet while in your company. I agree

to spare you the details of my family and everyday life,

but whether it’s in bed, the bathroom, or the damn roof

of the hotel, I’ll talk if I feel like it. Up to you if you want

to answer or not.

I won’t have you freaking out on me every time we have

to eat, sleep, or get in a car or elevator together.

I insist we speak on the phone regularly. I’m ready for

casual, no strings attached, but I draw the line at being

treated like a cheap piece of ass. I need to know you a

little.

Speaking on the phone doesn’t mean dialing my number

and listening to me. I don’t care what about, but you’ll do

some talking.

I don’t think I have to tell you how very much I’ve enjoyed

bottoming for you, but at this point in my life I’m all about

trying new things and us having assigned roles would

limit my options. I want to be able to do it all. I need for

you to be versatile. If letting me top you is not an option

you’re even willing to consider, then I can’t do this at all.

Please don’t think I’m trying to manipulate you. I’m just

doing as you requested by telling you something of a

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205

sexual nature I need. You already know how things were

for me before and I’ll never again settle for whatever it is

I’m given without asking for what I really want.

Mac

P.S. You’re right he’s a jerk off, but so was I for not

realizing sooner he was playing me.

P.P.S. Baby, I’d love to see you try ;-)

§ § § §

July 2, 2009

Houston, Texas

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: July 1, 2009

Subject: RE: Addendum to F.W.B. Rules

How many phone calls a week are we talking about?

You can be such a fucking girl sometimes.

P.S. As clichéd as this may sound, there’s a strong

possibility you’re blinded by faith and love. People get

struck stupid when they fall in love, lord help ’em.

P.P.S. I have never bottomed before.

§ § § §

July 3, 2009

New York City

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: July 2, 2009

206 Taylor V. Donovan

Subject: RE: Addendum to F.W.B. Rules

Three phone calls. And I’m not a girl. I just believe in

communication, but I can tell that’s a foreign concept

for you.

P.S. I could make you love it.

§ § § §

July 3, 2009

Houston, Texas

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: July 3, 2009

Subject: RE: Addendum to F.W.B. Rules

Well, I believe in minding my own damn business.

Two phone calls per week and one Skype session,

during which you’ll jerk yourself off for my pleasure

and entertainment. And you did say I could talk about

whatever I want, so you don’t get to complain when I

read you the obituaries.

P.S. How would you make me love it?

§ § § §

July 3, 2009

New York City

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: July 3, 2009

six DegRees of Lust
207

Subject: RE: Addendum to F.W.B. Rules

You’re just too much of a self-centered ass to be

bothered with certain things, I think. LOL

I’ll consider Skype if I get to see you too.

Mac

P.S. By doing to you the same things you do to me.

§ § § §

July 4, 2009

Houston, Texas

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: July 4, 2009

Subject: RE: Addendum to F.W.B. Rules

You got yourself a deal.

July 4, 2009

Liberty Heights, Texas

“Cher, I think it may be hotter than a Bourbon Street hooker

during Mardi Gras out here today. My freakin’ sweat is sweatin’,

I tell ya… and it seems we might be a bit underdressed. No,

wait…” Mac placed the small box with the birthday present for

his father next to several others on the table someone had set up

for it and glanced at his best friend. In turn Remy was looking

down at his navy cargo shorts, red tank top, and leather flip

flops with a frown. “We are a bit underdressed!” Remy checked

the people around them, looked down at his feet again, and re-

adjusted the Saints hat he was wearing. “Remind me to slug you

later for not telling me this shindig was formal.” Then his head

popped back up and he grinned from ear to ear. “But hey, at least

we’re wearing the right colors and look patriotic.”

“I didn’t know, man.” Mac was thrilled to hear the joke after

months of Remy’s somber attitude, and although he tried to

laugh and share the Cajun’s humor, the most he could muster

was a lopsided smile.

Three hours ago he’d been looking forward to this. He’d

been ready to have it out with his family if it came down to that

and come out to his best friend at some point during their time

in New Orleans, but now he was feeling so apprehensive all he

wanted was to go back home and hide forever.

What if Remy hated him for lying? What if he lost his best

friend? He knew him better than that, but after years of being

somewhat rejected by his own family for his sexuality, Mac wasn’t

banking on anything anymore.

He quickly perused his own attire of cargo shorts and light

blue v-neck T-shirt and decided they both looked appropriate

210 Taylor V. Donovan

for a backyard barbecue, but as Remy had pointed out, the

other partygoers were dressed to the nines. Leave it to his

mother to turn a Fourth of July-slash-birthday celebration into

an extravagant soiree by only inviting the uppity-ups from his

hometown whether she liked them or not.

“Any chance this champagne and caviar hoop-de-doo has a

frosty cold one hidden in a Styrofoam cooler somewhere?” Remy

drawled while the two of them took in the fancy decorations, the

live band, and the gigantic red, white, and blue tent set up in his

parents’ backyard. “Because if not, we’re gonna have to smuggle

some. Maybe from the servants’ quarters?”

A snort escaped Mac. “Two reasons why we could definitely

do that: my mother actually keeps servants quarters in this joint,

and the servants are nicer than the owners.” He shook his head

and took a deep breath. “This shit is so over the top…”

“Like they say, cher, if you got it, flaunt it.”

And damn if the O’Bannons from Liberty Heights, Texas

didn’t take that to heart, which was yet another reason why Mac

had moved to Houston as soon as he was able. He hated to show

off.

“You should see this place Christmas time.” Mac turned to

look at his friend. “It’s a Hallmark card from Hell.”

“And totally far from your usual laidback style.” Remy’s

chuckle warmed his heart, and the strong hand on his shoulder

in a silent gesture of support made Mac think he might just make

it through the next few hours after all. “I’m beginnin’ to see why

you hate comin’ here.”

“This is definitely one of the reasons.”

“Wanna talk about the others?” Remy’s eyes were piercing. “I

can tell something’s up. You’ve been tense from the moment we

left Houston and gettin’ worse by the minute. You can talk to me

about whatever it is, cher.” Mac was very tempted to let it all out

right then and there, but he managed to remain quiet for the time

being. “Look, I know I’ve been a tight-lipped bastard for months.

I know you’ve been worried and still I didn’t tell you about this

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211

thing that’s been driving me up the fuckin’ walls, but it isn’t ’cause

I don’t trust you. I do. I trust you with my life. But I needed time

to try and figure something out on my own.”

“And did you figure it out?” Mac rushed to ask.

“Somewhat, but this isn’t the time to talk about it.”

“Likewise… But we will talk later, right?”

“Yeah… It is time.” He readjusted his hat again. “I just wanna

make sure you know I’m here for ya. That you’re still my best

friend and I’m yours.”

“Thanks, Rem. Your offer to come along on this visit means

a lot to me.” Mac hated that his eyes got misty and his lower

lip trembled a little. Damn it! It was going to kill him if Remy

changed his mind later on. “Thank you.”

“Don’t even mention it.” They smiled at each other. “Shall

we go greet the Queen and King of Liberty Heights so that we

can get this visit over with, then? N’awlins and le bon temps are

waitin’ for us, cher!”

Mac took a deep breath, nodded, and chuckled when Remy

clasped his hands together as if he were about to say a prayer

when they started walking towards the party.

“And can we please snag a beer from somewhere? Please? I’m

spitting more cotton than those fields we passed on the way here,

and I’m not above beggin’ you.”

“No need to embarrass yourself. I’m pretty sure we can

find—”

“Well, there you are, sugah!” Mac and Remy stopped dead

in their tracks when Amy’s voice reached them, and they both

slowly turned around to find her almost running towards them.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

“And why’s that?”

“Mother and Father are in a snit, wondering if you would

actually show up.” The expression on her face went from a frown

of concern to a scowl within a heartbeat. “Seriously Mac, how

much longer do you think you can keep doing this to them?”

212 Taylor V. Donovan