Stage Fright (7 page)

On Monday afternoon Jesse stood in the bathroom and studied his reflection. Val was picking him up for a late lunch, and he wanted to look sexy but not slutty. His jeans were snug but not too tight, and his short-sleeved, blue button-down shirt set off his lightly tanned skin and made his eyes look the same color as the desert sky.

He liked the color, but the shirt was too nerdy. He debated whether to swap it for a formfitting T-shirt. Would Val like that better? Jesse glanced at his watch. He didn’t have time to change. Val would be here any minute, and he wanted to be ready. Where the hell were his shoes?

In the living room Chris lay on the couch, wearing an old T-shirt and worn jeans, watching TV. He looked away from his show and examined Jesse. “What’s with the fancy duds? I thought gay guys got to skip dating and go straight to the good stuff.”

Jesse hesitated. “I’m trying to make a good impression. Val doesn’t usually date guys who aren’t out.”

Chris frowned and pushed brown bangs off his face. “You’re not in the closet. You told me you were gay when you came to look at the apartment.”
Jesse felt his cheeks warm. “I’m not out at work.”

“No? Why’d you tell me, then?”

 

Jesse stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I needed to tell you.”

When he’d answered the ad for a roommate, he’d worried that if he admitted he was gay, he wouldn’t be accepted. But he wanted his home to be his sanctuary, so he’d decided to be honest. If it didn’t go well, he’d never have to see the other guy again.

When they’d met, Chris had been friendly and funny, and it hadn’t been all that difficult to say he was gay. Chris had told him it wasn’t an issue.
“As long as you’re not a slob and don’t have sex on my couch, I don’t care,”
he’d said.

Chris swung his legs to the floor and sat up. “Yeah?”

 

Jesse couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with a guy who was wearing a T-shirt that read
Bagpipes put the fun in funeral
.

Chris planted a bony foot on the couch and rested his chin on his knee. “Why tell me but not your coworkers? Why is that different?”
Because letting Chris know he was gay hadn’t felt like he was outing himself to a bunch of sweaty homophobic jocks. There was probably a lot more to it on a subconscious level, but the theater’s dressing room reminded him too much of his high school locker room. Some of the worst verbal harassment he’d endured had been before and after gym class. Every time he pictured himself announcing to the other dancers that he was gay, his palms got sweaty, his heart raced, and he felt as if he couldn’t breathe. It was like stage fright, only a thousand times worse.
Telling Chris he had a panic attack whenever he thought about coming out at work was more info than he was willing to share. He shrugged and tried to give a less personal explanation. “You can’t come out just the one time and be done. Until people stop assuming everyone’s straight, you’ve got to do it over and over, every time you meet someone—new coworkers, new acquaintances, neighbors, friends of friends, anyone. You can’t always tell how people will react either.”
He was getting worked up. “And the minute we tell someone our orientation, it’s all about the sex. No one starts thinking about your sex life seconds after meeting you, but as soon as I tell a straight person I’m gay, they start thinking about mine.”
Chris looked startled. “Wow. I didn’t realize. That bites.”
“No kidding.”

“Seriously, Jesse. It shouldn’t be like that.” Jesse took a deep breath. He didn’t want to think about this now. “Yeah, well, I wish everyone was as easy to deal with as you.”

Chris grinned. “Aw, you flatter me.”
“I mean it. You’ve been great,” Jesse told him.
“Now you’re just getting mushy. And your date will be here any second.”

Jesse checked the time. “Shit.” He grabbed his keys.
“Remember, no glove, no love,” Chris teased. “And I’m not saying that ’cause I’m thinking about you and Val getting to know each other in the biblical sense. I want you to know I am definitely not thinking about your sex life.”
“Jesus. I’m out of here.” Jesse slammed the door behind him. He’d wait out front.

Dry, hot air washed over him. He sat on the building’s stoop, listening to the drone of multiple air conditioners. Off in the distance he heard a dog barking and the hum of traffic. In minutes his palms were damp, though that was probably more to do with nerves than the temperature. Thank God it wasn’t summer. He’d been told Vegas could easily reach temperatures well over a hundred degrees. He couldn’t imagine pulling off confident or sexy while sweating buckets. He wasn’t sure he could manage it right now.

He got to his feet and brushed off the ass of his jeans. He paced back and forth, making sure to stay in the building’s shade.
A silver Subaru turned the corner. Jesse watched its approach. The engine grumbled as it crawled up the street, hugging the curb. The driver was probably checking addresses. Jesse stepped out onto the sidewalk, and the car picked up speed as if eager to see him. It pulled up beside him, and the passenger-side window slid down. Val leaned over, pushing sunglasses into his hair and squinting up at him. “Hi.”
Jesse got in. After the sun and the heat, the car’s air-conditioning made him shiver. Val smiled at him and put the car in gear, pulling away from the curb.
Jesse looked around. The upholstery was worn, but the car was tidy and clean like he’d expected. Even the dash was dust-free. The noisy engine and the hiss of the air conditioner’s fan made conversation difficult, but Jesse tried. “Did you have this car back in Idaho?”
“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Seems like a good car for Idaho winters.”

Val patted the steering wheel. “She runs a little rough, but this car and me go way back.”
Jesse checked him out. Val wore a plain T-shirt and black jeans. Without his bartending uniform he looked younger, more approachable, though the sunglasses now hid his eyes. He smelled clean and soapy, and his hair looked damp, as if he’d just showered. Jesse wanted to press his face against Val’s nape and just breathe him in.
“Are you hungry?”

“A bit.” Jesse’s stomach was fluttery with nervous anticipation. He didn’t feel all that much like eating. Not unless Val was on the menu.

“We can go to a restaurant, sit with the tourists.” Val glanced at him. “Or we can go to my place. I have stuff for sandwiches and salad. Your choice.” He stared straight ahead through the windshield, gripping the steering wheel.

Jesse’s breath quickened. “Your place.”
Val’s grip relaxed, and he smiled over at Jesse. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Val took him to an apartment building somewhere off the strip, though Jesse

didn’t know exactly where. Without a car of his own he hadn’t done much exploring outside the tourist areas. The building was newer than Jesse’s. Val had told him he made good tips and preferred to live alone.

Jesse didn’t get tipped, thank God. Occasionally a woman tried to tuck a dollar bill in his thong, but the revue had a strict no-tipping policy. They were a little classier than the strip clubs in the rougher parts of Vegas. Or maybe the no-tipping policy had something to do with the licensing laws.

Val told him to make himself at home and went to get them a drink. Jesse glanced around, curious. The furniture was old, but the blue-and-white-striped couch looked comfortable, and the tracks from the vacuum cleaner still showed in the carpet. Everything was tidy, the coffee table and end table clutter-free as if Val had cleaned up for his visit. Maybe Val had tidied his bedroom too. Jesse could hope.

He wandered over to inspect a series of interesting-looking pictures hung on one wall. As he got closer he saw they were original photos of old neon casino signs. Some of them he recognized from Fremont Street, where a lot of the original casinos like the Golden Nugget were located. Maybe Val had taken the photos. He’d have to ask.

Val’s voice came from the kitchen. “We can eat now if you’re hungry. I bought ham and turkey, or I can make you grilled cheese.”

Jesse followed the sound of Val’s voice. He wasn’t interested in eating. He’d been thinking about being alone with Val for far too long, and desire made him bold. “Can I have a tour?”

Val, his hand on the open fridge door, shot him a quizzical look. “There’s not much to see.”

“Still.” Jesse ignored his pounding heart and let his gaze travel over Val’s body. “I’d like to see everything.”
Val eyed him steadily. He closed the fridge door.

“Living room, eating area.” He gestured with one hand.

 

Jesse trailed him down a short hall, admiring the view. Val’s jeans accentuated the curve of his ass, his narrow hips. Jesse wondered if he looked as good out of them.

 

“Bathroom, bedroom.” Val’s voice sounded thicker.

Jesse walked past him into the small, tidy bedroom and sat on the neatly made queen-size bed.
Val took a couple of steps into the room and stopped. “Jesse…”
It looked like Jesse was going to have to get this show on the road. “Come on over here.” He patted the dark blue comforter.
Val sat beside him. Close but not touching. His chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths. Jesse reached up and touched Val’s hair. So silky, and he’d been right. It was still a little damp.
Val turned into his touch, his knee brushing Jesse’s outer thigh. His hazel eyes glittered as he leaned in, and their lips touched. Val’s mouth was soft, questioning. Jesse encouraged him.
Val pressed closer, his tongue tentatively coming into play. Jesse opened for him, tasting wintergreen. Val threaded his fingers through Jesse’s hair. His other hand gripped Jesse’s hip, his fingers hot, even through the denim. Jesse shifted, trying to move closer without either of them getting a knee somewhere that might put a sudden end to their activities.
He rubbed his palms up and down Val’s back, feeling the smooth cotton of his Tshirt and, under that, the hard angles of Val’s shoulder blades and the curved lines of his ribs. Val gripped him tighter.
They kissed until Jesse’s mouth was tingling.

Val pulled away. He panted, his cheeks bright with patches of color. His body radiated warmth, throwing off more heat than any stage light.
He gazed at Jesse, then eased him back onto the bed. Jesse wiggled till his head was on a pillow. He held still as Val sat beside him and brushed his hair from his face.
“I want to have sex with you, Jesse. But I don’t want you to think that’s the only reason you’re here.”
“I know it isn’t.” If sex was all Val wanted, they could have been doing the horizontal mambo weeks ago.
Val stroked his chest lightly. He slipped the first button free of its buttonhole and parted Jesse’s shirt with care. He leaned forward, kissing the hollow of Jesse’s throat.

Jesse breathed in the woodsy scent of Val’s shampoo. Soft hair brushed his jaw, tickling the sensitive skin under his chin. Val kissed his breastbone, and the wet press of his mouth sent the butterflies trapped in Jesse’s rib cage soaring.

Val undid another button and slowly, reverently kissed Jesse’s chest, just above his rapidly beating heart. As each button slipped free of its anchor, Val kissed the exposed skin. Jesse sat up, taking his weight on his elbows, as the final button was undone.

Val helped him out of the shirt. “Beautiful,” he whispered.

Jesse felt heat flood his cheeks, but then Val moved on to the waistband of his jeans, hesitating over his belt buckle. Jesse watched as Val traced the outline of his rigid cock with long, graceful fingers. He bit back a moan.

“Can I take these off?”

Jesse nodded. He wanted to say something deprecating, make a joke—it wasn’t as if any of this was new. Val saw almost all of him every night, but something in the other man’s expression stopped him.

Val pulled his socks off first, then carefully stripped him of his jeans and underwear. Then he sat back, just looking.
Jesse fidgeted. He felt a little stupid lying on Val’s bed wearing nothing but a hard-on and what was probably a needy expression. But Val was looking at him as if he really saw him, Jesse Snowe, not just some blond twink who shook his moneymaker up onstage. Jesse, already a little bit in love, felt his heart swell.
Val held his gaze and pulled off his own T-shirt. That was sexy, like Val was stripping for him. For the first time Jesse thought he had some idea of what it might be like to be a member of the audience. No wonder those women went wild.
Val got off the bed and pushed his jeans and boxers down in one smooth motion. He stepped out of them and toed off his socks. He stood, chin raised as Jesse eyed him appreciatively.
Val was long-limbed and lean, built like a runner, all angles and ropy muscle. The smattering of hair on his chest as well as his pubic hair was a dark, chocolate brown. His erection strained toward Jesse as if eager to join him.

God, he looked good. Different than in Jesse’s fantasies—better because he was real and excited, and soon they’d be touching. That hard cock would be pressed up against him, pressed into him. Jesse sucked in a breath. He reached for his own erection.

Val made an indecipherable sound and shifted. Maybe he wasn’t all that comfortable being on display.
“It’s lonely over here.” Jesse stroked himself slowly, watching Val track his hand’s motion.
Val moved to the side of the bed. His gaze burned Jesse’s skin. “What do you like to do?”
Jesse didn’t know what Val was into, but he was pretty sure he’d like anything Val tried. He held Val’s gaze. “Whatever you want.”

Val smiled. “I want whatever you’ll give me.”

 

The mattress dipped as he climbed back onto the bed. He skimmed his hands over Jesse’s skin, stroking his ribs, his chest. “Is it bad, the way they touch you?”

Jesse shook his head. “It’s not bad. It just doesn’t feel good.”
Val rolled a thumb over his nipple. “Does this feel good?”
“Yeah.” Jesse swallowed. Very good.

Val lay on his side and kissed Jesse’s jaw, nipped at his throat. Jesse felt Val’s hardness poking him on the thigh. It left a damp trail on his skin as Val shifted.
Val squeezed Jesse’s thigh, sliding his palm up to cup Jesse’s balls. “You’re so smooth.”

“I have to be. For the show.”
Val nuzzled the skin behind his ear. “Your skin glows like satin on the stage.” Jesse shivered as Val stroked the crease of his hip, moving a hand toward Jesse’s

erection.
“I can’t believe you’re here. That I’m finally touching you, kissing you.” Val
wrapped his fingers around him. Jesse slipped his hand to the bed. Val squeezed and
pumped him gently. “I wanted to since the minute I saw you.”
“You had a funny way of showing it.” Jesse arched into the touch.