Indulgence (38 page)

“No, I don’t. Lead the way, Buddy.”

“Thank you.” He seemed to relax. Then he sized me up with a
bright white smile. I wondered if he used those toothpaste strips that were
meant to make your teeth so bright they could glow in the dark. “Now, I know
exactly what designer we can have tailored to fit that broad chest and those
massive biceps in a jam. Jeez, how much do you work out, anyway?”

I laughed aloud as he led me out of the apartment and into
the elevator. Before long, we were pulling up to a store smack dab in the
middle of Fifth Avenue, the heart of New York City. I looked over the building.
Oliver was grinning so much I worried that his face would stick that way.

The building was gray stone with bars running down the first
stories. Golden letters popped out of the building’s side, prominently
displaying “ARMANI / 5
^TH
AVENUE” in big block letters.

“Looks like a jail,” I said. Oliver looked like he’d
forgotten I was with him.

“If that’s jail, then lock me up, honey, and throw away the
key!” He grabbed onto my forearm and tugged me toward the entrance. He was
obviously excited. Reminded me of when Butch was about to get a meaty bone.
He’d wag his tail and turn around in furious circles landing in a heap at my
feet when his excitement ebbed. Oliver was kind of like Butch but I feared I
was the meaty bone in this scenario.

After trying on six suits, I’d about had it. I was at my
boiling point. Aspen was going to pay dearly for this—preferably on her back
with her thighs around my ears.

“Oh, Hank, this is the one. This is it!” Oliver screeched.

I stood on a raised circle facing three large mirrors. They
were tilted so that one could see the clothes from every angle. A small, hairy
looking fella was standing in front of me measuring my inseam. He gripped my
balls and shoved them to the side.

“What the heck, partner?” I jumped back, covering my crown
jewels. “This ain’t no doctor’s office. Touch me again and I’ll punch your
teeth out!” The man rattled off something in a foreign language. Oliver went
over and appeased the man.

Oliver rolled his eyes and came back over to me. “Hank, he’s
a tailor. They have to measure your inseam or your, um, bits will be
uncomfortable. He got what he needed on the pant, so can he finish with the
shoulders, arms and waist? You going to be a good boy and keep your paws to
yourself?” I squinted my eyes at him but got back on the circle. “We don’t have
a lot of time as it is.” He sounded completely exasperated. The feeling was
mutual.

“Sorry. Not used to this type of thing. Just get it done, then,”
I told the man with the accent. He hemmed and hawed until he finished sizing me
up. Lord knows what the hell he had to do. The suit fit just fine; a little
tight in the chest and shoulders, but I could remedy that by leaving it
unbuttoned. It was the largest size they had on hand. I could make do, but
Oliver was not okay with that option. He said I had to look the part. Whatever
that meant. It wasn’t like I was trying out for a Broadway show.

Oliver picked out several shirts, more than I needed for the
evening. Instead I scrolled through my phone and texted Aspen.

To: Aspen Reynolds

Your boy is dressing me up nice for the evening. You
owe me. Big time.

I watched Oliver grab several ties and match them up with
the brightly colored dress shirts. I overheard him telling the sales girl that
we wanted the same suit in black and a pinstriped pattern and to charge
everything to Aspen Reynolds account. Before I could disagree my phone pinged.

From: Aspen Reynolds

Are you being nice to him? How shall I pay up?

Oh, she wanted to play. Very nice. It took me a few moments
but I decided honesty was always the best policy.

To: Aspen Reynolds

You. Naked. I’ll handle the rest.

Without even a chance to put the cell phone into my pocket,
it pinged once more.

From: Aspen Reynolds

Deal, Stud.

“Okay, Hank. Put your clothes back on. We’ll have lunch
while the tailor alters the gray suit. The other two will be finished later.”

Time to get the hell out of there. I could pay Aspen back
later for the clothes. It was a nice enough store, but nothin’ had price tags
and there were very few things hanging on the racks. When you walked in you
were met by someone who assessed your clothes, discussed your needs and such.
Oliver called it a personal consultant.

If this was how the other half lived, I didn’t want any part
of it. What I did want, though, was a tall blond angel with the most beautiful
eyes I’d ever seen and a body that wouldn’t quit. God, she made my mouth water
and my dick spring to attention. I couldn’t get enough of her. I’d had her
every day for weeks and, if anything, the need for her got stronger as the days
went on. It wasn’t possible to explain. She was just what I wanted, all the
time.

My phone rang and I picked it up thinking it would be my
girl. “Hello, Angel. I was just thinking ‘bout you.”

“Angel? That’s a new one, Punky,” Ma’s voice rang through
the line loud and cheery as usual.

“Ma, it’s good to hear your voice.”

“Really? Is that so? ‘Cause you haven’t heard it in weeks!”
Her tone was bitter with a hint of sarcasm.

“Oh, Ma, I’m sorry. Things got kinda crazy at the job. There
was an accident and I got hurt.” Shit, she was going to be pissed when she
realized this happened weeks ago.

“Oh my God! My baby. What happened? Tell me everything!” I
laughed. She was going to tar and feather me.

“Now, Ma, I’m fine. Just got stuck with a pipe is all. Went
straight into my shoulder. The doctors fixed me up real good. Now I’m almost
three weeks out on recovery.”

“You had surgery? Hank!” she cried. Then she yelled over the
receiver, “Henry, Henry my baby’s been hurt. Had to have surgery and
everythin’!” I could hear mumbled words through the hand I knew she had held
over the speaker while she updated Old Man Henry. My mother wasn’t typically a
dramatic woman but the moment one of her children got hurt, she was like a mama
bear with her cubs. All worked up and worried over nothin’ at all.

Oh, man. Now I’d done it. Telling my family about the
accident slipped my mind. She was going on and on. I answered each of her
questions, telling her every detail as I remembered it.

“Well I’ll be coming out there. I have to see my baby!” I
could hear her tears and sniffles all the way across the states. When Julia
Jensen got her mind set on something, there was no changing it.

“Okay, okay, Ma. I’ll buy you a ticket and make
arrangements, but it’s really unnecessary. Aspen and her team of helpers really
have been great. I’m healing up nicely.”

“Aspen?” Her tone was curious so I just plowed through and
told her as much as I could while I threw on my clothes. I glazed over some
parts and left her wondering about others. She’d hound me when she visited
anyway. No need to go into it all now.

“Well, I’ll only believe you’re okay if I see it with my own
eyes. Wait until your father sees you, Punky. He’s liable to blister your bum
for not telling us sooner.”

I knew she was joking. Mom and Dad had never so much as laid
a finger on us boys growin’ up, but the fear of my father busting out his belt
or using his big hand on our rears had me and Heath running for the hills.

“I’m sorry, Ma. Really, I’m fine. You’ll see. I love you.”

“To the moon and back, Punky. I love you to the moon and
back.”

Just hearing my ma’s voice made me homesick. Looks like I’d
have news to share with Aspen. This ought to make for an interesting evening. I
wondered how she would take it.

“Come on, Hank. I’m wasting away out here!” Oliver’s squeaky
voice came from beyond the dressing room door. “How long could it possibly take
to put on a pair of jeans?”

“Hold your horses, boy!” He was like an angry mosquito that
you couldn’t shake.

I left the solace of the dressing room.

“You ready, Cowboy?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Oliver put the finishing touches on my hair. He had pulled
it into a sleek bun with loose tendrils of hair framing my face delicately and
a few dime-sized crystals pinned around the bun. They matched the earrings and
bracelet he chose for the evening. The dress was new, but one of my favorites.
It was simple: a strapless bodice and a hemline that hung just to my knees,
deep royal blue, and, at the waist, a satin gray belt.

The look was definitely a newer trend, almost a play on a
business suit but with a lux fabric and sheen. Oliver paired it with sky-high
gray suede platforms. They had crystals capped at the back that continued along
down the line of the heel. Sexy as hell.

After checking myself out in the mirror, Oliver and I both
agreed that I looked hot. This was the first time in a long time that I’d
dressed to please a man instead of the guest list. It made me feel young and
girly—two ways I would have never described myself. Ever.

As I stepped out of my room, Hank was just leaving his.

“Damn, Angel. You’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.
C‘mere, let me look atcha’.”

He grabbed my hand and twirled me around slowly. I allowed
it, captivated by the spell he had me under. Once I’d finished the spin he laid
his big paws on my hips, encircling my waist. His hands could almost touch each
other. He made me feel so small and dainty. Most men I’d dated were only an
inch or two taller and I had to keep myself really lean in order to not look
out of place standing in pictures next to them. The last thing I’d needed in
the society pages was fat commentary. My mother would never let me live it
down. Hank, though, he was enormous. I looked downright petite with him, and I
loved it.

“You sure clean up nice, Stud.” I fingered his royal blue
tie. He stood before me in a steel gray suit. His eyes bore more of the green
than caramel hue this evening. His dress shirt was bright white and lightly
lined with tiny blue pinstripes.

Oliver was damned good at his job. The overall effect was
drop-dead gorgeous. With looks like these, I’d need to keep my eyes on him all
night. Otherwise he’d be bombarded by all the slutty socialites with nothing to
do but play Monopoly with their trust funds and squander away hot men.

“Oh, the two of you make the perfect couple. You two should
be on the first cover of Bright Magazine!” Oliver gushed.

The doorbell rang and Hank held his arm out for me to take.
I loved his old world charm. “If I had half a brain I’d blow off this event and
take you back into that room and have my wicked way with ya,” he whispered in
my ear. His breath made the hair on the back of my neck tingle.

I smiled coyly at him as we made our way to the foyer.
Oliver was kissing Dean when we approached. When Hank saw the PDA between
Oliver and Dean, he turned a tad pink. Oliver didn’t care who saw him with
Dean. Never had. He’d only ever been in the closet long enough to kiss boys that
were still in there.

Hank cleared his throat. Dean smiled and pulled away first.
Oliver stared into Dean’s eyes, obviously love-struck. They made for a great
team; I was thrilled that my Ollie had a mate. If only I was so lucky.

Dean held his hand out to Hank. “You must be the hunk I’ve
heard so much about.” Dean gave him a sly grin.

He was tall, much taller than Oliver. He had a large enough
build to tuck Oliver into his side to shake hands, but he was not quite as
large as Hank. His thick black hair was slicked back into a sleek cut, and he
had dazzling blue eyes that swirled with mirth as he held Oliver close.

It was obvious that Dean was the alpha male in this
relationship, but the man was a complete dichotomy. Most of his career had been
spent doing makeup and hair for the modeling industry. That’s how he and Oliver
met. Then one day, he up and left it to become a firefighter. He was definitely
one of the prettiest firemen I’d ever seen. He’d recently appeared in a sexy
fireman’s calendar “showcasing his assets,” as Oliver put it.

“It’s Hank, but never hurts the ego to be called a hunk!”
Hank shook Dean’s hand as they both laughed. “Hear you’re a firefighter? Back
home I used to volunteer with the fire department to help out now and again.”
Hank had never mentioned that. There was still so much we didn’t know about one
another. I enjoyed finding out these little tidbits.

“Guilty. I love getting my hands dirty. Men’s work, you
know?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely, bro!” Hank clapped a hand on Dean’s
shoulder. He seemed to take to Dean so quickly. Made me wonder why he didn’t
have the same ease with my Ollie.

The two continued their “men talk” as we entered the
elevator. Oliver came to me and hugged me tight. “Our boyfriends are getting
along. Isn’t this so exciting? Dean hated Grant with a passion.”

“Dean hates me with a passion, not Grant,” I reminded him.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” he snickered. “He actually
hated Grant, too.” He laughed louder, then turned to Dean. “Hey Baby, do you
still hate Aspen?”

“Are you still working eighteen-hour days, not excluding
weekends?”

“Yes, snookums,” Oliver said.

“Then yes.” But his face held a smile I knew all too well.
We always joked that Dean hated me. It was part of our everyday conversation,
though a small part of me believed that he did resent me a little for how much
I needed Oliver’s attention. I knew since he made a firefighter’s wage and not
the high salary he used to bring home working in the fashion industry, that he
appreciated how much I paid Ollie in the end.

We made it to my parent’s estate on the outskirts of the
city in good time, considering Friday rush hour traffic. The stretched limo
pulled around the circular drive. My parents were standing at the threshold
greeting everyone as they strolled up. A small get-together for my mother was
around hundred and fifty people. As we approached I saw the Senator and her
husband, previously the President of the United States, air-kiss my mother and
shake hands with my father.