Dirty Dining (30 page)

Jeremy was so excited, he called Brice at work.

“I’ve got a few minutes between meetings.”

“How’s your project going?”

“I’m not sure yet. Thanks for asking. Why did you call?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but I got some potentially good news today. A private donor approached the university about funding my research. I don’t know who or what, but it’s interesting and kind of strange at the same time.”

“So you didn’t call for phone sex?”

“Did I get the wrong number?” Jeremy checked the phone to make sure he’d actually dialed Brice. “Did you want phone sex?”

“If you have to ask for it, it’s not as sexy.”

“What about my news?”

“It is strange. Are you sure it’s genuine?”

“The head of my department is investigating the donor, from what I’ve heard so far. Who do you think it could be? My research isn’t widely known outside my academic circle. I don’t understand how someone could have singled me out for this.”

“Maybe they approached the university and asked if any researchers needed funding? I don’t know how that stuff works. It’s your world, not mine.”

Jeremy heard Brice talking to someone in the background. “You have to go?”

“Yeah. That’s great news if it works out.”

“Thanks. Good luck in the meetings.”

“Love you.” Brice rang off.

Jeremy could get used to hearing those words on a regular basis. He couldn’t understand why Brice wasn’t more excited or even curious about the funding offer. Probably too preoccupied with his work. It had been a mistake to bother him during the day.

B
RICE
AND
Ron were at the third meeting of the morning. They’d called in every favor either of them had with anyone they knew in Silicon Valley and even New York. Brice would have to be on food stamps before he’d get any assistance from his contacts after this. He’d used up any goodwill he’d built up over the years, asking for last-minute meetings and a one- or two-day decision for an investment that normally took weeks to decide.

They felt like a couple of used car salesmen. “This price is only good until you walk off the lot. Tomorrow it’s going to be more.”

They had plenty of interest in PharmaTek and its research, but so far, no one was interested in doing a deal this quickly. It was highly suspect. Even in an industry where some decisions were made in a split second, private equity still worked on its own, more sedate, timetable.

Tuesday night he stayed in the office. They had a 4:30 a.m. conference call with an investor in New York. The bastard probably chose the time just to see what kind of hoops they’d jump through for the deal. Thankfully Ron was as committed to the project as Brice was, or he never would have put in the hours.

J
EREMY
WAS
at Brice’s desk, analyzing some data sets, when Thomas called early Wednesday afternoon.

“Jeremy, I know you said no, but this particular gentleman asked me to try again. He wants you Friday night. Dinner only, you choose the terms.”

“Why?”

“I don’t ask these questions.”

“Will you tell me who it is?”

“Sky Blue.”

Jeremy felt a little flushed at the memory of dinner with him. “Oh. Really?” At the back of his brain, he had suspected it might really be Brice, either testing him or offering him a way to make some money without it feeling like a hand out.

“What do you say?”

Brice had said it was up to Jeremy. Sky Blue was one of the more desirable gentleman, not as grabby as most and very… pleasing. “Okay. Since he keeps asking. I’m kind of curious why.”

“You can ask him yourself on Friday.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll have the car pick you up at the usual time.”

“Okay.”

Thomas hung up before Jeremy could think to give him Brice’s address. On second thought, he couldn’t leave from here. That would be wrong to go from Brice’s flat to the club for an evening with another man.

Should he tell Brice what he decided? He wanted to be honest, but this week Brice was so busy and this might be a distraction. Even so, he needed to tell Brice.

But on Wednesday Brice came home late and fell asleep before Jeremy had a chance to say three sentences to him. Thursday afternoon, he left straight from work for a last-minute overnight trip to Los Angeles.

With each passing day, Jeremy grew a little more uneasy about his decision. Doug didn’t offer any useful advice Friday morning when Jeremy arrived back in their apartment.

“Go with your gut.” Doug turned his attention back to the DVD he was watching, something with a loud car chase and lots of flying bullets and a soundtrack on steroids.

“That’s helpful.” Jeremy had to raise his voice over the film. He took the remote and muted the sound.

Doug turned his attention back to Jeremy. “Brice said it was okay. So are you feeling bad for not telling him, or are you feeling bad for deciding to do it?”

“I don’t know. For not telling him, definitely. Not sure about the other.”

“I can’t help much there.”

“Should I worry because Brice said it was okay?”

“Jeremy! Enough with the questions. You aren’t satisfied with anything I say.”

“But it’s a lot of money.”

“Then go, do the job, and take the cash.”

“It’s that easy?”

“It’s that easy.” Doug turned the sound back up on the television.

I
N
THE
shower Jeremy convinced himself Doug was right. Do the job, collect the cash, and go home to Brice. Easy as 1-2-3. He pulled on thin sweats and a long-sleeved T-shirt and grabbed his duffel. While he waited for the car to pick him up, he called Brice.

Voice mail.

“Brice, honey, I told Thomas I’d do the dinner tonight. Can I come over after, or do you want me to stay at my place tonight?” He was about to add something when he heard the limo honking from the street below.

Doug waved good-bye as Jeremy left.

At the minimum it would be fun to see Kit and Law and the other boys. He had so much to tell them.

B
RICE
FIDGETED
in his seat as the plane landed and taxied from the runway at SFO. It was an excruciatingly long wait to reach the gate. He powered up his phone and noticed a missed call from Jeremy. Without even listening to voice mail, he speed dialed back. No answer, just voice mail. He called his own apartment to see if Jeremy was there. No luck. Finally he called Jeremy’s apartment.

Doug answered. “Thomas, he’s on the way.” He sounded impatient.

“Doug?”

“Who’s this?”

“Brice.”

“Hi, Brice.”

“I take it Jeremy’s not there?”

“Uh, no.”

“He’s at the club tonight?” Brice kept his voice steady, though his nerves were anything but.

“Yeah. He’s got his cell on him.”

“I’ll try again. Thanks.” Brice disconnected with a jab at the phone that nearly cracked the screen.

He was already on his feet long before the seat belt signs were turned off. As soon as the door was open, he started elbowing his way through the passengers standing in front of him.

“Brice, wait up!”

He’d forgotten Ron was seated a few rows ahead of him. They hadn’t been able to get seats together.

“Gotta run, Ron.”

“Don’t you want a ride back to the office?”

“I’m not going back to the office.” Brice edged closer to the door.

“I’ll drop you wherever.”

“I’m really in a hurry.”

“You can drive.”

“Deal.”

There was the usual late afternoon traffic, three times worse than usual because it was Friday. Rush hour started at two and kept on till nine. He strained Ron’s BMW to its limits as he took the first San Francisco exit off the freeway and made his way along the less-congested surface roads. He’d lived here all his life and knew the shortcuts.

In the passenger seat, Ron gripped the dashboard with white knuckles and gave up trying to ask Brice where they were going and whether there was a fire. Brice promised to pay any tickets, but he didn’t want to get stopped. He didn’t have time for that. He had to get to the Dinner Club, to Jeremy.

“O
H
-
MI
-
GOD
! R
EMY
!”
Kit exclaimed when Jeremy came into the dressing room. The rest of the boys converged on him en masse.

“I didn’t believe it when I saw your name on the schedule!”

“Are you still with Hunter Green?”

“Are you having lots and lots of delicious sex with him?”

The questions came fast and furious.

“Let’s see you, sugar cookie,” Kit said and yanked Jeremy’s shirt off before going for the sweats.

Jeremy grinned. Nothing had changed at the club. He did his best to answer questions while the others crowded around.

“What happened here?” Law brushed his fingers against the remnants of Jeremy’s bike crash the week before. Most of the bruises were gone, but he still had a few scrapes from the road.

“Bike accident.”

“What a mess!” It was Kit, only he wasn’t looking at Jeremy’s shoulder. He was at crotch-level. “You need some emergency manscaping. Law, get me my toolkit!”

“No, Kit.” Jeremy instinctively pulled back as Kit grabbed his dick and came after him with scissors.

“Hold still and I won’t accidentally geld you or anything irreversible.”

“That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.” Jeremy had forgotten Kit’s hands-on assistance.

“So, Remy, honey, is Hunter Green here tonight, for old times’ sake?” Rico asked. His hair was longer, and he looked even more handsome than Jeremy remembered.

“No. I have Sky Blue tonight.”

The boys gave a collective “Oh!”

“What about the BF?” Kit asked as he trimmed Jeremy’s pubes to the skin.

“He said it was okay for me to work. Just dinner and nothing extra.”

“Really?” Kit gasped. “He doesn’t mind? Who’s playing with him while you’re here?”

“Thanks, Kit, I needed that like I need a third nut.”

“On you, even a third nut might look good.”

“He trusts me, and I trust him.” Jeremy said with as much confidence as he could. He kept glancing toward his phone, willing it to ring. He wanted Brice’s permission more than he had been willing to admit.

Thomas came in and greeted Jeremy. “Well, I see you’ve picked up right where you left off. We’ve all missed you. Thanks for coming in tonight. I’m hoping this won’t be the last time we see you.”

“It is, Thomas.”

The boys voiced their disapproval.

“Well, have fun tonight, and don’t make any final decisions.” Thomas glanced at Jeremy’s body. “You look good. Very good. And happy. I’m glad.”

“Thanks,” Jeremy said.

The others fluttered around him, applying pink glitter on his nipples even after he refused it. Kit put some color on his cock before pronouncing him good enough to eat. Law used eyeliner to make Jeremy’s eyes look bigger and alter their shape slightly. He liked the changes. Would Brice like him this way?

Thomas came back with the costumes and hung them up along the way under each boy’s name.

Jeremy stared as he saw tonight’s theme. Greek slave boys. This was the costume he’d worn the night he met Brice. He pulled it off the hanger and brushed the filmy fabric with his fingertips. Was it really so transparent? And was the tunic really that short? He couldn’t even remember how he’d managed to put the tiny, flimsy thing on the first night.

“Ten minutes, boys. Remy, get dressed.” Thomas moved around the room, checking that they were nearly ready.

Jeremy slipped into the tunic, then the barely there bottoms, feeling the cool air moving across his balls. When he bent to lace up the gold sandals, he was aware he flashed the rest of the boys, just as they did when they had put on their own sandals.

The last thing he donned was the sky blue armband. Kit helped him fasten it across his left bicep.

“You look great, Remy.” Kit gave him a little peck on the cheek.

Jeremy glanced down and ran his fingers over the blue band.

The room got hot, then cold, and Jeremy felt dizzy. What was he doing here? He was about to parade around a room and let someone put their hands all over his body. Someone who wasn’t Brice.

He took a deep breath.

And then the gong rang. He was swept out of the dressing area along with the others. Then he was in the dining room for the first pass. The chill in the room transformed his nipples into tight, hard buds, and he felt his cock swaying as he circled the gentlemen, hand in hand between Kit and Rico.

B
RICE
MANEUVERED
the car expertly through narrow streets and around parked cars and cyclists, arriving at the Dinner Club in the nick of time. Dinner hadn’t started yet. He screeched to a halt.

“What are we doing here?” Ron asked, speaking for the first time in fifteen minutes.

“Wait right here. I need to take care of something inside.”

“Why are we at the Dinner Club? Hey, is this the place—”

Brice didn’t hear the rest because he was sprinting up the walkway and through the wooden double doors to the entry hall.

A security guard who looked like a young Arnold Schwarzenegger immediately stopped him. He knew Brice had been a regular client.

“I’m here for dinner. Running a bit late.”

“Sir, you’re not on the list. All the gentlemen are already seated. You’ll have to leave.”

“Kevin, I’d like to just speak to one of them. It’ll just take a minute.” Brice got within five feet of the door before Kevin stopped him in his tracks.

“Sir, I don’t want to have to call the police.”

“Let me talk to Thomas, then. Please?”

Kevin kept hold of Brice’s shirt and part of his neck with one enormous hand while he spoke into a radio held in the other. “Code Red at the front desk.”