Sex, Ties and Videotape

an excerpt

Chapter One

Friday night

Valentine's Day

Capitol Hill bar in Seattle, WA

"Another one?"

Geoffrey belched and set the empty pint on the bar. "Yep."

"Are you sure?" The bartender looked far too concerned, even for a gay man.

He nodded empathically. "It's good for my personal growth."

The bartender let out a derisive snort but grabbed the empty glass and hustled off.

From behind him he heard a cheer. Turning on his stool, he found the source of the commotion. A tanned and toned young man wearing a bright red thong pranced on the stage wearing a Mr. Valentine sash as onlookers clapped and sprayed him with whipped cream. Every thump, thump, thump of the loud music and every swivel of Mr. Valentine's hips made his cock grow harder. But he had no urge to join the fun, even though it meant he didn't get laid on Valentine's Day. Knowing what he needed from a man in bed, he wasn't willing to face the risk of humiliation again quite yet.


He swiveled back around in time to see the bartender drop off his beer-and-a-shot while a familiar man slid onto the stool next to his. His ex's best friend. He stifled a groan.

"Funny meeting you here tonight." Paul ordered a rum and Coke and casually draped a long, leather-clad arm on the wooden bar. The man's fresh glow competed with the shiny finish of the wood, and the bar lost by a mile. With his piercing blue eyes and neatly trimmed facial hair, Paul had always been the most attractive man in the room. He could have had any available guy in the bar, so why was Paul sitting next to him? Had he come to rub it in? I'm sure he's seen the video. Brian probably showed him, told him how he finally relented to my submissive pleas and wanted to teach me a lesson. A shiver ran across the back of his shoulders. The place was suddenly too cold, too small.

"Yeah." Geoffrey knocked back the shot and picked up the beer. After a couple of big gulps, his nerves settled, but his ire cranked up a notch. "Downright hilarious. I fucking hate Valentine's Day now."

Paul shifted in his seat and plucked his newly-arrived drink off the coaster then immediately refocused his attention on him. The man's gaze swept over him like a hot lick or a wolf staking its territory. Geoffrey's mood soured further. Yeah, yeah. One little smile and you basically own every guy's nuts in this snake pit, so you may as well claim mine as yours, too. Not that you'll ever want them, you pretty-boy shithead.

The crowd roared again. The two runners-up to Mr. Valentine's Day flanked the winner, and the three of them danced arm-in-arm, stopping to shimmy along the edge of the stage to let onlookers slip money into their thongs. Mr. Valentine's bright red thong was well soaked with beer or champagne or saliva, and the outline of a promising grower showed through, leaving little to the imagination. Geoffrey's ass clenched, suddenly hungry to be filled. Hell, it's only been four weeks.

He tore his gaze away from the frustrating sight and spun in his chair only to find Paul's attention hadn't wavered. If anything, it had become more intense. A shiver ran from the tip of his cock up to his neck, making his nipples hard on the way. He sucked in a breath and froze.

This was Paul, his ex's best friend. He'd known Paul for years and years, so what was he doing looking at him like that? He shook his head. It had to mean nothing. Just a fluke. A momentary lapse of intelligence. Or pity, maybe. He rankled at the thought.

"Hey." Paul leaned so close his skin-warmed Acqua Di Parma cologne effused the air. The heavy Oud scent made Geoffrey's sac tighten and tingle. Paul had always worn some very expensive cologne, but in the past year or so, this one had become his favorite. Every time Geoffrey smelled it, he got an erection for hours. I so do not need this right now.

Paul laid a hand over his. Just a light touch. Nothing more. Still, it set him on fire.

"I'm sorry about the break-up, but Brian was an ass. He used you. He never should have treated you that way."

Geoffrey's eyebrows rose so far up his head he thought they'd hit the ceiling. Shock warred with desire. Did he just insult Brian? "But he's your best friend."

"Was." Paul removed his hand, leaned back in his chair, and grabbed his drink. With a smooth, easy style, he surveyed the rest of the crowd as though he owned the place. After he took a drink, his tongue flashed out and licked his upper lip.

Geoffrey's cock leaked serious pre-cum. He grabbed for his beer and struggled to find words. "Um..."

Paul's deeply self-confident gaze swept back to land on him. "To be honest I never liked how he treated you, and after seeing what he did, I sure as hell don't want to be his friend anymore."

Geoffrey choked on a big swig of beer and received a slap on the back.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. It's just-I..."

Paul stood and set his empty drink on the coaster. "Look, you got plans to go home with any of these guys tonight?" He tipped his head toward the stage. The party had entered full swing now. Most patrons had stripped to their jockeys, and a few guys were busily gluing candy hearts to Mr. Valentine's thong.

He swallowed. Yes, he'd come here mainly to wallow, but he'd also forced himself out of the house hoping to get laid. Until Paul showed up, he'd done a bang-up job of the wallowing part of the plan, but right then, he really wanted sex, and the object of his desire stood right in front of him. Too bad he'd never have him. He opened his mouth and said the truth even though it made him seem pathetic. "No."

"Good." Paul slapped a bill on the bar big enough to cover both their tabs. "'Cause you're coming home with me."

His jaw dropped, and he forced himself to close it. Paul wants to take me home tonight? Impossible. This has to be some sort of joke. Besides he'd never...He stuffed his needs down, back where they obviously belonged, locked deep inside. No way could he ask Paul to tie him up. That would be a bad, bad idea. Better to just forget it.