Six Degrees of Lust (42 page)

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Authors: Taylor V. Donovan

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before he had to leave the country on a business trip, but had no

problem doing it over the phone if necessary.

However, he did have a problem with doing it right now.

A quick look into his satchel told him he had all the essentials:

money, identification, credit card, mirror, eyeliner, lip gloss, and

a few lubricated condoms. He hadn’t had sex in the longest time,

but always made sure to carry them because a girl needed to be

ready no matter what.

His cell phone beeped softly, indicating there was a new email

in his inbox, and because it could be work related he checked

it right away, then groaned when he saw it was from Soldier of

God. The psychotic religious conservative group had somehow

gotten a hold of his email address and sent him anti-gay hate

propaganda and quotations from the bible every few weeks.

Chris refused to believe God had anything but love and

acceptance for him, so he ignored the email and put his phone

inside the satchel before hanging it over his shoulder and across

his chest. Then he grabbed his camera bag. The taxi would be

waiting for him by now and he was running late for what he

hoped was a productive meeting with a gorgeous kid that would

hopefully lead to making them both lots of money and the boy

famous.

300 Taylor V. Donovan

He opened the door and found Julian about to knock on it,

his right hand closed in a fist, his left one holding a bouquet of

red roses. Didn’t the man know Chris was more of an orchids

kind of guy?

Julian took a step forward and offered him the flowers, but

Chris stepped out of his loft and turned around to lock his door

instead. He wasn’t having any of this crap.

Julian examined him from head to shoes and back, and Chris

could have sworn there was disapproval in his eyes. He couldn’t

understand why. Didn’t he look marvelous, as usual?

“Where are you going?”

“Out.” He didn’t provide any details. “What are you doing

here?”

“I wanted to bring you this.” Once again he offered the

flowers, and once again Chris refused to take them. “I’m going

to be out of touch for a few more days. I’m so close to finishing

my masterpiece!”

“So you’ll be in your studio.”

“Yes, working out the final details.”

“Are you taking care of the apartment? After so much painting

I’d imagine it’s a mess, and I hear you haven’t let the cleaning

service inside for weeks.

“I’m not destroying your place, Christian.”

“It’s Metaphora’s,” he clarified. “Not mine.”

“You own Metaphora, so same difference. I can clean after

myself. You don’t need to worry about that. Unlike you, I wasn’t

born surrounded by servants.”

Chris shook his head and walked past Julian toward the

elevators. He pressed the down button and stared at the doors,

hoping for it to get there soon, sick of Julian’s old, repetitive

song.

“Why do you still need to be left alone if the painting is almost

ready anyway? Why can’t I come over and hang out with you

six DegRees of Lust
301

while you paint?” he asked without looking at him. He was over

the guy, but he needed to understand why Julian had pursued him

so relentlessly if he was going to treat Chris like he was only an

option instead of the priority Julian swore he was.

“I need peace and quiet.”

“Then have at it, but don’t expect me to step aside and wait

for you.”

“You know I can’t work around people, Christian. I shouldn’t

have to fucking explain myself to you all the time!”

Chris was taken aback by the sudden outburst. Why the hell

was he being so loud? What was he so furious about? He turned

around to find Julian standing right behind him, hand clenched

around the bouquet, and eyes a little unfocused.

“I didn’t ask for an explanation.” Even though Julian’s

demeanor was making him feel uneasy, Chris refused to be

intimidated by it. “I have a right to see what you’ve been working

on, or have you forgotten I am part owner of the gallery that will

be showcasing your work?”

“As an artist I need—”

“So much solitude you couldn’t be bothered with taking the

time to be with me,” he interrupted. “Are you even aware of

the fact that I haven’t seen you in weeks? We barely talk, and

we certainly don’t have sex! We haven’t been in a relationship in

months, Julian!”

“So what if we don’t have sex all the time?” Julian whined.

“We can love each other without having to engage in such…”

He bit his lip, refusing to say anything else, but Chris had heard

enough.

“Engage in such what?” He shook his head sadly. “You look

repulsed, Julian…am I missing something here?”

“I love you, baby! I just want you to understand that us being

together is so much bigger than sex.”

“So you love me so much you just leave me for weeks and—”

“I’m working for us, Chris.” Julian interrupted him. “And I’m

302 Taylor V. Donovan

trying to protect you. Guys get hurt for being gay. You ought to

know that. I’m trying to make sure that you’re safe so that we can

be together the right way.”

“That makes no sense whatsoever to me.”

“I’ve made so much progress,” Julian went on. “Everything’s

going according to plan finally, and soon I’ll be all yours.”

“Safe?” Chris asked with a frown, confused by the other man’s

choice of words. “What are you trying to keep me safe from?”

“Come December, we will be spending so much time together

you’ll find yourself wishing you’d never met me,” he said, not

bothering to answer Chris.

“No.” He swallowed hard, not liking Julian’s tone or the

feverish look in his brown eyes. “We won’t be doing any such

thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m done with you.” The elevator doors finally

opened behind him and Chris rushed to get inside. “Don’t bother

to come back.”

“You can’t do this to me! You can’t do this to us!”

“Boy, was Braxton right about you,” Chris whispered. “He

warned me. Said you didn’t sound like the same guy he knew

years ago. He thought you were probably too busy painting to

talk to him, but I think you just—”

“Braxton doesn’t know shit! You shouldn’t be listening to

him, baby. He’s been behind every bad decision you’ve made in

your life!”

“What in the world are you talking about? He’s my best friend

and has always been there for me.” Chris was spitting mad now.

“How dare you talk that way about the man that was the catalyst

for your success? He recommended your work to me, Julian!”

“I’m your best friend. Not Braxton Sinclair! And I know you

love me.”

“I don’t love you. I never did. Whatever it is we had, it’s over.”

six DegRees of Lust
303

“You can’t do that to me,” Julian yelled when the elevator

doors began to close, unable to stop them even though he tried

to stick his hand in between. “You’ll regret it if you leave me!”

Chris took a few steps back and didn’t stop until he hit the

steel wall behind him. The last thing he saw before the doors

closed entirely was the bouquet hitting the floor.

“Jesus.”

He readjusted the camera bag on his slim shoulder and willed

himself to stop shaking. Julian’s behavior was beyond artistically

temperamental and bordering on violent. That was a side of the

man Chris had never seen and most certainly didn’t care for. And

had he just threatened him?

He pressed the Lobby button on the elevator panel a few

times and prayed it didn’t make any other stops. With luck he’d

get out of the building before Julian could make his way down.

For the first time since signing his contract he was happy he

had agreed to shoot a few magazine editorials in Europe and was

due to leave New York in a few weeks. Although a lot of traveling

was involved, he enjoyed his photography work as much as he did

painting and running his own gallery with Gabi. He was utterly

attached to his friends and material possessions, so he tried to

stay in the city as much as he could, but at that particular moment

he was relieved he would be leaving for a while. Shooting the

editorials would keep him busy and away from Julian while the

man cooled off. The last thing he needed was to deal with an ex

who refused to let go.

He got out of the elevator and looked around frantically

before running outside and getting in his cab. It wasn’t until he

was settled on the backseat that he noticed the tears running

down his cheeks.

“Crap.”

He took some tissue and a mirror out of his satchel and tried

to fix his ruined makeup with a trembling hand. He knew he

wasn’t crying over yet another failed attempt at happiness. Much

as he’d tried to love Julian, he hadn’t been able to. Maybe it was

304 Taylor V. Donovan

because they weren’t quite as compatible as he’d thought. Maybe

because it was bad timing or lack of communication. There were

so many plausible reasons, and by the end of the day he’d make

sure at least five of them made perfect sense, because Chris

refused to even consider that his heart might be already taken by

somebody else.

He was an optimist. He couldn’t admit to the fact that he’d

been stupid enough to go and fall for the one guy that would not

have him.

No.

His not being able to love Julian had nothing to do with his

somewhat unfinished business with Remy Benoit.

Not a damn thing.

Finally able to breathe better, he reapplied his makeup, rested

his head on the backseat, and tried to figure out what to do.

First he needed to talk to Gabi and ask her to deal with Julian

for the time being. It would be prudent not to be around the

guy for a while. And maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to contact

the gallery’s lawyer and find out what it would take to sever

Metaphora’s contractual ties with the man if things didn’t go well

on a personal level. He also considered filing a police report, but

wasn’t sure he’d be taken seriously. He’d wait a few days and see

if Julian approached him again.

Twenty-five minutes later the cab pulled up in front of

Horizons, almost fifteen more minutes than it would’ve taken

had he walked, but just in time to see the cutie coming down the

center’s entrance stairs.

He put all his problems aside and rushed to pay the driver,

but by the time he got his things and out of the car, the boy was

almost to the corner. “Shit!” Chris ran after him, designer shoes

be damned. “Hey!” he called out, then again when the boy didn’t

seem to hear him. “Hey, wait up for a minute… Hey, buttercup!”

The young beauty must have heard that, because he slowly

turned around, his left eyebrow arched so high it disappeared

into his platinum hairline. Lord, he was exquisite.

six DegRees of Lust
305

“I am not called Buttercup.”

Chris whimpered a little, his creativity and inspiration melting

all over the sidewalk. He couldn’t wait to paint and photograph

this guy.

“What are you called then?” Chris asked, finally standing in

front of the guy, who was way younger than he originally thought.

Shit. Still, he was at least six feet tall, gorgeous, had an accent and

attitude to spare. It was like looking back in time at the kid he’d

been himself.

The kid took a step back, which proved he was smart, too.

“Who wants to know?”

“My name is Christian Murphy.” He searched around in his

satchel until he found a business card and handed it to the boy. “I

own an art gallery here in Manhattan and I’m also a professional

photographer. I would like to talk to you about maybe taking

some pictures… and most definitely painting you.”

“What kind of pictures?” The boy stepped back even farther,

clearly getting the wrong idea.

“Nothing illegal. I assure you I’m as legit as they come.”

“Hmmm… I’m listening…”

“What’s your name?”

“Sasha.”

“Okay.” Chris offered the guy a reassuring smile and looked

him up and down, completely approving of his outfit. “I love

that shirt you’re wearing.”

“Thanks. I made it out of some of Babushka’s old dresses

that she let me have.”

“No way!” Chris was positively impressed. “You’re interested

in fashion, then? Because that’s one of the things I’d like to

discuss with you.”

“Did you not hear before?” He stuck out a hip and his long

platinum hair behind his ear, revealing his delicate neck. “I am

listening.”

306 Taylor V. Donovan

“How old are you?”

“Fifteen.” Which meant Chris would need to get the parents’

consent, but he wanted to get to work with the kid so badly he

was willing to talk to whomever he had to.

“Come on,” he gestured to a bench close by, happy to get

immersed in art and work and leave that ugly situation with Julian

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