The Plot Bunny (9 page)

And then, Simon realized that at some point, Luc's entire fist had entered him, up to the wrist. His mind screamed at him that it was impossible, and yet, Simon could feel it. He wanted more of the delicious pain.

Luc seemed to know what he was doing, as he didn't allow Simon to move when he'd have pushed back against the fist. His motions remained slow, a deliberately tortuous ecstasy. As his lover stimulated his prostate, Simon felt the burn of his body sweep through him, radiating from his ass. The orgasm flowed over him like a tidal wave and he exploded, crying out Luc's name.

As the spasms hit him, he felt his lover gently retract his hand and replace it with his cock. The sensation of being united with his lover in such a way made the pleasure soar even higher. As Luc thrust inside him, everything seemed to fade. Simon could only feel his lover, their bodies moving in synchrony and their hearts beating as one.

He didn't know how long it lasted, but when the pleasure finally began to fade, he felt himself fall into a state of amazing helplessness. He felt boneless, sated, and well fucked, and he could not have moved if he'd wanted to. Luc thrust a few more times, and then he came, his cock pulsing inside Simon's willing body.

Luc groaned as his dick slipped out of Simon's body and he rolled off of Simon. Simon collapsed onto the bed, and it was only then that he realized Luc had been supporting him. They lay next to each other, panting, enjoying the final waves of the afterglow.

Luc got up, and Simon heard him go to the bathroom, probably to dispose of the condom and clean up. He heard the water run, and then his lover returned to the bedroom. Through half-lidded eyes, Simon analyzed Luc's nakedness. He was going to have to create another sculpture of Luc. One simply didn't suffice.

Grinning, Luc lifted Simon in his arms and padded to the bathroom. "Whatcha doing?" Simon asked blearily.

"A short hot bath for you," his lover replied. "You'll thank me later."

Simon groaned as Luc placed him in the tub, now filled with hot water. "Ah fuck… I'm going to walk funny tomorrow."

Luc chuckled evilly. "No worries, babe. I'll bring you breakfast, lunch, and dinner in bed."

As his lover's hands swept over his skin, cleansing him, Simon allowed himself to relax. The remnant of worry in Simon's heart lifted at his lover's words. Luc didn't seem to have any intention of going anywhere. Thank God.

* *

The Present

As the memories of that night passed through his mind, Simon felt a tear fall down his cheek. That had been one the most erotic moments of his life, but at the same time, so full of emotion he'd barely been able to withstand it. They never repeated the experience, and Simon wondered if Luc felt the same thing that time, if those emotions frightened the other man. If so, perhaps Simon had unwillingly pushed Luc away with his demanding nature.

As he wiped his eyes, Simon realized that the last time he'd shed even a tear had been the day of their break up. This couldn't go on, damn it. Shaking his head, Simon tossed the manuscript on the coffee table. He needed to get some sleep, or else he'd do something he might regret.

Halfway to his bedroom, he stopped, uncertain. Perhaps he shouldn't just abandon the papers there. Sure, his home was safe, but Dury had gotten in. What if someone else came in and took the manuscript? Unlikely, but Simon didn't want to risk it.

Nodding to himself, Simon returned to the coffee table, only to realize the manuscript was nowhere to be seen. "What in the world?"

He started scanning the floor desperately, then looked around the couches. Maybe he'd put it someplace else and he didn't remember. His phone chirped as he searched, but he ignored it. The thought that Luc's book could fall into the wrong hands simply made him sick to the stomach.

By the time he gave up, half of his home was a mess, papers and books scattered everywhere. He collapsed on the floor, despair clouding his senses. Hands trembling, he retrieved his cell phone. He had to tell someone he'd lost the manuscript. Luc, at least, deserved to know. Too bad he didn't know Dury's number. Perhaps the young man would know what to do.

As he looked at the screen of his phone, he saw the notification of one unread message. It seemed to be from an unknown number, and Simon felt irritated at the thought of yet another random spam.
He didn
'
t know what made him press re
ad, but his eyes widened at the content of the
message
:
Don
'
t worry about the manuscript. I
'
d never let Luc
'
s work go to waste. Sleep well. D.

Simon dropped the cell phone, feeling almost certain this was all a weird dream. Dury couldn't have gotten in and out of the living room just like that, without Simon seeing him. Abandoning the device on the floor, Simon went to the bedroom, vowing to push all thoughts of Dury and Luc away. It didn't work, and that night, he dreamt of two lovers, so close, and yet so far away.

Chapter Six

"You promised to look over the file yesterday," Simon's boss, Andrew, told him with a frown. "I know you're a great artist, but that doesn't mean you can slack off."

"I know that," Simon replied. "I did look over the file. I just haven't managed to come up with an idea yet."

He felt irritated that Andrew expected him to sprout out images and concepts overnight. Yes, he'd done it in the past, but it couldn't happen every time. In spite of Andrew's words, Simon knew his boss didn't have such expectations from all of his employees.

"Simon, we pride ourselves in providing the fastest and best advertising campaigns. I thought you shared that value."

Simon gritted his teeth at the disappointment in his boss's voice. "Sir, with all due respect, an advertising campaign cannot be done in one day. You know this. The fact that I have come up with ideas faster in the past doesn't change that rule."

Andrew frowned. "Is everything all right, Simon?" he asked.

"Of course, Sir," Simon replied with a fake smile. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Andrew gave him a critical look. Finally, he turned toward the matter at hand yet again. "All right, Simon. You have three days, and after that, I'll hand over the account to another team."

Simon nodded and thanked his boss. As he left the office, he was assaulted by several voices. "Oh, did the boss scold the golden boy?" one of his colleagues threw at him.

"Maybe you need to suck his cock better," another said.

Simon didn't reply. He just headed toward the elevators, the heat inside the advertising agency stifling him. He couldn't work here, especially not with everything on his mind.

As he waited, he pressed the button over and over, wishing the thing would come already. Every moment that passed seemed an eternity, with Simon feeling the weight of all the gazes on him. Susie didn't know how right she'd been about the corporate job. Simon couldn't stand all the jealousies and backstabbing that took place here. An advertising agency was by nature a competitive environment, and from the very beginning, he'd been seen as an intruder, getting a free ride to the top just because of his status in the artistic community.

Unfortunately, Simon didn't have a choice but to take it and be silent. At least the boss was willing to let him work following a freelance schedule, because otherwise, he'd go insane.

When the elevator's doors finally opened, Simon suppressed a sigh of relief and got inside, heedless of the many people already riding down. He'd go home, grab a glass of whisky—or perhaps something lighter—and focus on his perfume campaign. It would do wonders to get his mind off his messed up love life. Maybe he'd even manage to forget about the two men who haunted his days and nights, for a few hours at least.

Some sort of deity seemed out to get him. As a couple left the elevator, Simon was left standing next to a woman, whom Simon instantly recognized as Dana Johnson, Luc's publisher. "Oh, hello, Mr Roth," Dana said. "Didn't see you there."

"Ms Johnson," Simon greeted her, "How have you been?"

"As good as can be expected," she said. "The publishing house just relocated a few months back. What about you? What are you doing here?"

"I work here," Simon replied.

Dana gave him a blank look. "Excuse me?"

"
I work at
Creole
, the advertising agency. And before you ask, yes, I stopped sculpting.
"

Simon mentally cursed himself for offering the unrequested information, but the stress and sexual frustration were getting to him. Eventually, just Dana and he remained inside the lift. "I see," Dana replied neutrally. "That's a pity. I enjoy your work very much."

"Thank you," Simon answered automatically, hating every second of the conversation. "Perhaps I'll go back to it sometime in the future." With the way things were going, Simon very much doubted it, but he kept that depressing thought to himself. Dana didn't need to know the extent of his self-pity.

They reached the bottom floor before Dana could offer another reply. Simon nodded toward her and hastened out. The parking lot seemed blessedly empty, not a strange thing given the hour. Simon rushed to find his car, and to his shock, his hands trembled when he retrieved his keys.

Simon took a few seconds to calm down. This was getting ridiculous. Once, he'd been unshakable, a force that could unerringly shape beautiful, expressive bodies and faces in stone. Now, he couldn't even control himself enough to do the most menial of tasks. But seeing Luc again after two months had torn through every defense Simon had managed to build. To top it off, Dury Smith continued to haunt him as well. It needed to stop. He held the reins of his life, not some unknown individual with a peculiar propensity of sneaking into his home.

The thought sobered and steadied him. He could get over this. Simon managed to unlock his car and get behind the wheel with no other incident. It was only when he stuck his keys in the ignition that fate struck again, when a red alarm light appeared on his dashboard. What the hell? He always kept his car in perfect condition. Cursing under his breath at his bad luck, Simon got out and lifted the hood. He stared at the mess of parts that made up the engine for a few moments, before giving up. He knew his way around electric stuff, but working with cars was way out of his league. "Fuck!"

"What is it? Everything okay?" Dana said, making Simon even more frustrated with the situation. She must have caught up with him while he busied himself with philosophical musings and searched for his self-control.

"I think the car is leaking oil," he replied. He couldn't possibly drive out like that, not if he didn't want to chance fucking the car up even further. He'd just have to call a tow truck and take the damn thing to service. God, he didn't have time for this.

"Do you need a lift?" Dana asked.

Simon somehow managed to suppress his horror. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck with a person who knew about Luc and his relationship. Luc and she had a relationship that went beyond their professional connection. They were good friends, and Simon had practically met Luc because of her. Luc had never actively boasted about his relationship with Simon, preferring to keep their privacy intact. But given Luc's connection to Dana, she'd been one of the few who did know. She'd try to find out the whys and hows of their break up. Simon had his hands full with Dury. He couldn't take someone else invading his life.

Still, he couldn't refuse without insulting her. "I suppose, but I have to wait for the towing company to get here," he said, praying that she was in a hurry and wouldn't insist on staying.

"Right," Dana said. "And they always take so long to show up."

At first, Simon thought he was saved and she'd leave. Instead, she retrieved her cell phone and dialed a number. The conversation that followed convinced him that all efforts to dodge her would be futile. "A friend of mine got in some trouble with his car. He thinks it could be the oil. Could you come around and help out?"

The person at the other side of the receiver must have agreed. "At the publishing house, yes," Dana said. "Half an hour? Cool."

She hung up and smiled at Simon. "There you go. This guy I know owns a business and he'll be here faster than others."

"Thanks," Simon answered grudgingly. Mechanics were a continuous source of frustration for him. Most took advantage of Simon's inability to understand cars to rob him blind. It didn't help that a lot of them had no respect for art.

"No problem," Dana said. "Hey, while we wait, would you like to go with me someplace? I have a small thing I do after work. You don't have to come if you don't want to."

Simon sighed. She'd been so helpful he couldn't bring himself to say no. "Sure," he replied. "Let's go."

Dana offered him a small smile and nodded toward the exit. "It's within walking distance," she said. "There's no point in taking the car."

As they left the building, Dana started a conversation, asking him about his job at the advertising company. She was surprisingly tactful and didn't mention Luc or sculpture. Luc found himself consulting her on his advertising project, although he didn't give her any specifics for confidentiality reasons.

To Simon's surprise, Dana led them to a church. "I just need to say a prayer real quick," she said. "If you like, you can wait outside."

Simon shook his head. He wasn't a devout churchgoer, but he did believe in God. How could he not? He felt Him like a lingering presence whenever he gave shape to his ideas in marble and stone. He sensed it as the hammer fell and the chisel worked, giving birth to something new, a lifelike reproduction of reality that could in its own right be called human. Sometimes, it seemed to Simon that a higher being allowed him to create works that could reach out to others. Had he lost that as well?

His heart heavy, he went to sit on a bench as Dana went to kneel in front of the altar. He wondered if there was anything in particular she wanted to pray for.