Easily Addicted

Working Man: Easily Addicted

Praise for the Writing of J.M. Snyder J. M. Snyder has a true gift for writing futuristic fiction with threads of m/m intimacy that reach deep beneath the surface and tug out the subterranean currents that many authors never reveal. As in Trin, Scarred dredges up the terror and pain of a world in the future that we all hope we never live to see. Character revelations coupled with vivid descriptions that bring the story setting alive, and a fast-placed plot make Scarred a winner. Frost, 5 Kisses, Two Lips Reviews J.M. Snyder has created a fascinating futuristic world where, in spite of the lawlessness, people still maintain their humanity. Teresa, 5 Angels, Fallen Angel Reviews

Warning This e-Book contains sexually graphic, violent scenes, and adult language that may be offensive to some. Please store your e-Books carefully where they cannot be accessed by underage readers.

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Working Man

Easily Addicted

J.M Snyder Aspen Mountain Press

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Working Man: Easily Addicted Copyright © 2007 J.M. Snyder This e-Book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental. Aspen Mountain Press PO Box 473543 Aurora CO 80047-3543 www.AspenMountainPress.com

Published by Aspen Mountain Press, November 2007 www.AspenMountainPress.com This story appears in the print & electronic collection, Shorts, published June 2007.

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction fines and / or imprisonment. The e-Book cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this e-Book can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher.

ISBN: 978-1-60168-069-3 Released in the United States of America

Editor: Sandra Hicks Cover artist: Nikita Gordyn

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Easily Addicted

“That’s bad for your health,” a man said as he approached Trevor’s bench. Trevor countered, “I didn’t know the Surgeon General was in town.” Not used to company as he stole a quick nicotine fix outside the office where he worked, Trevor didn’t look up immediately. Instead, he took a drag on his cigarette to get it lit, flicked off his lighter, took a deep breath to fill his lungs with acrid smoke, and held it until he felt his body relax. Then he squinted into the sun toward the speaker, but didn’t recognize the guy. Someone in sales, maybe, or one of the ad men upstairs. Trevor worked in customer care and had only been with the firm for a month or so. He could count on one hand the number of people he knew in the whole building, and none of them worked higher than the third floor. “Trevor Pritchett,” he said, holding out a hand to the stranger. “And you are?” “Zack Jackson.” The man took Trevor’s hand in a firm grip. He had nice eyes, despite the way the skin crinkled in the corners when he smiled. With his pale twill pants, open-toe sandals, and salmon-colored polo shirt unbuttoned to show off a fine gold necklace against smooth, tanned skin, Zack looked as though he’d be more at home on a yacht than in the office. The dark mop of unruly hair on top of his head seemed to have a mind of its own in the faint summer breeze. Zack shook Trevor’s hand as he sat down beside him on the bench. “Nasty habit,” he emphasized before letting go. 5

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With a grin, Trevor admitted, “I’m trying to quit.” “Really?” Zack laughed. “I couldn’t tell.” He didn’t wave away the smoke from Trevor’s cigarette, and the fact that he even bothered to sit suggested a level of tolerance, so Trevor gestured to the pack of cigarettes between them. “You want a smoke?” Zack shook his head, then ran a hand through his hair to push it back from his eyes. “I quit a few months ago.” Leaning closer to Trevor, he lowered his voice and added, “I’ll just sit here and breathe you in for a bit, if you don’t mind.” Trevor gave him a quizzical look. Was that a come-on? Here, at work? Zack laughed again. “I meant your smoke. Don’t worry, I’m not hitting on you yet.” That yet snagged in Trevor’s mind like a thorn. Suddenly, he had the overwhelming urge to blow his next puff in front of Zack’s face, let the man breathe him in as he wanted, just purse his lips and stare into those dark eyes as the smoke curled from his mouth to waft against that tan skin. Where the hell did that come from? With deliberate care, Trevor turned away to exhale. His voice shook slightly as he pointed out, “They say second-hand smoke is worse.” “Who are you, the Surgeon General?” Trevor threw him a sharp glance, but when Zack raised an eyebrow and grinned, they both laughed. “You’re a trip,” Trevor said with a shake of his head. “Where have they been hiding you all this time?” “I was wondering the same thing about you.” “Customer service,” Trevor said. “Third floor.” He would’ve added something flirty, something along the likes of come on up and see me sometime, when Zack brushed the back of his hand against Trevor’s shoulder. It was too much, too soon… Nathan hadn’t been out of his life for three weeks and here he was messing around with someone new. He couldn’t do it. Taking a last long drag on his cigarette, he ground it out beneath his shoe and stood up to distance himself from Zack. When he 6

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stretched to play off the movement, he could feel the heat of Zack’s gaze on his body and lowered his arms. “Guess we should head back up.” Without waiting for a response, he made for the twin glass doors at the front of the building. Zack caught up with him, as Trevor worried he would. “Hey, wait.” His reflection in the doors looked puzzled and he reached out again, but his hand stopped inches short of Trevor’s back before it curled into a fist and dropped out of sight. “I didn’t mean—” “It’s okay.” Trevor turned and flashed Zack a winning grin as he held the door. “After you.” Inside the foyer, one of the elevators opened and a courier stepped out. Like an overzealous puppy eager to please, Zack lunged for the doors before they could shut. “Third floor, right?” Trevor took one look inside the cramped space and shook his head. “I’ll take the stairs.” That expression again, confusion mingled with hurt, marring those bright bedroom eyes. Bedroom, heh, Trevor thought, turning away. I so don’t need to go there. Behind him, Zack called out, “Hey…” But Trevor was already ducking through the fire door into the stairwell. He took the steps two at a time, quickly, trying to leave behind any lingering thoughts about the cute guy in ads or sales or wherever he said he was from. He didn’t say. I don’t even know what floor he works on so I can avoid it. Nathan was cute, too, and then he left you for someone younger and cuter, so keep that in mind. Halfway up the second flight of stairs, he remembered the pack of cigarettes he’d left on the bench outside. By then he was too late coming back from lunch to turn around and get them, and when he checked on his way out at quitting time, they were gone. ****

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The next day found Trevor nervously perched on the edge of the bench, staring everyone down as they came back from lunch. He kept fiddling with his tie, which seemed too tight no matter how much he loosened it, and he smoked two cigarettes down to the filters before he realized that Zack wasn’t coming. Of course not—Trevor was stupid to even get his hopes up after how rude he’d been. I’ll take the stairs…could he have been any more of an ass? If this happened every time a guy flirted with him, he’d never get over Nathan. He didn’t know what pissed him off more, his own behavior or the fact that now he couldn’t get Zack out of his head. He’d spent over an hour this morning in front of the mirror, tucking in his shirt then pulling it out, changing pants, raking his fingers through his short red hair and wishing it would do something other than kink into impotent little whorls on the top of his head. All morning he fretted over another encounter after lunch—would Zack bother to notice him again? What could he possibly say or do to see that smile light up those eyes he now saw each time he closed his own? He didn’t even know what floor Zack worked on so he could apologize. “You’re a dickhead,” Trevor muttered to himself as he stubbed out his second cigarette. He finally got a chance with someone after all this time and he had to go and blow it. **** The weekend passed like a funeral. Trevor replayed their brief encounter over and over again in his mind, until he was certain Zack had been coming onto him, regardless of anything he’d said to the contrary. Leaning so close, breathing him in, that hand on his shoulder…what was all that about? Late Sunday night, after he had a few beers in his system, he pulled up the company website and tried to find an employee listing. No luck. The only Jackson he found was the CEO, Mike L. Jackson, listed on the company profile page. Unfortunate 8

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name, Trevor thought. No one else with that last name, and no Zack, either. Not even a photo of Mike to see if maybe he’d gotten the name wrong. But really, how could he have confused the two? Mike sounded nothing like Zach—even inebriated, Trevor knew that. And according to Mike’s résumé, he’d graduated from college a year before Trevor was born. They weren’t the same guy. Maybe Zack didn’t even work for the firm. By Tuesday afternoon Trevor managed to convince himself that Zack had just been someone passing by. Or maybe he’d stopped to shoot the shit before going in to meet one of Trevor’s coworkers, a cousin or fag hag friend; that was why he didn’t tell Trevor which floor he was on. Trevor’d probably never see him again… Laughter drifted across the parking lot to the bench where Trevor sat catching a quick smoke before he had to get back to work. Zack’s voice, he’d know it anywhere, the damn sound had haunted him since he heard it last. He took a steadying breath, inhaling enough smoke to make his head buzz, and told himself to play it cool. Hoping he looked nonchalant, Trevor stretched an arm out along the bench beside him and heard that laugh again, felt a rush through his body that had nothing to do with the nicotine. Fuck it. Why bother pretending? Zack hadn’t. Trevor turned, a smile already playing across his lips, but it froze when he saw that Zack wasn’t alone. Coming up the steps in front of the building, he walked with three other guys, all torn from the pages of GQ and dressed with the same negligent casualness that Zack wore so easily. One of them glanced at Trevor, who quickly looked away. I’m not here, he prayed. I don’t exist. Just keep walking and don’t notice me. As they passed in front of him, he couldn’t help but take another quick peek. Zack met his gaze. Oh shit. Trevor wiped a sweaty hand down his face and wished he were invisible. He heard Zack’s steps falter, heard him say, “Listen, you guys go on ahead. I’ll catch up.” Felt his heart flutter uselessly in his chest and wanted—no, needed—a smoke. 9

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Remembering the one that already burned between his fingers, Trevor stuck the damp filter between his lips and dragged deep on the cigarette. He didn’t look up as Zack approached, and stared instead at those strong, sandaled feet that stopped just inches in front of his dress shoes. “Hey there,” Zack said. “Long time, no see.” Clearing his throat, Trevor muttered, “Hey.” He tried to think of something else to say, but nothing came to mind. Where have you been? sounded too accusatory; I missed you, too needy. And somehow, I never imagined I could want someone I didn’t know as much as I want you, didn’t have the right ring to it. Made him sound insane, like a stalker or one of those men mothers warned their children about. When did he get this bad? “Well,” Zack started, one foot turning away from Trevor to follow his friends, “I just thought I’d say hi—” “Wait—” Trevor ran a hand over his close curls and sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’m not usually this…” “Psychotic?” Zack teased. Sitting back, Trevor grinned. His memory of Zack didn’t do the guy justice. That careless hair, those crinkled eyes. “I’m not usually this much of an asshole,” he finished. There, he’d admitted it. Apologies weren’t really his thing—another accusation Nathan threw at him as he’d left. Motioning to the empty stretch beside him, Trevor asked, “Have a seat?” Without nodding, Zack sat down, closer than Trevor had anticipated. The pack of cigarettes was all that kept their hips from touching, and Zack faked a stretch that settled his arm alongside the back of the bench behind Trevor. His fingers toyed with the faint hairs at Trevor’s nape, tickling through the coarse curls. Too close, too soon, but Trevor fought the urge to pull away. “And here I thought you didn’t like me,” Zack said. “What’s not to like?” 10

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Zack strummed the back of his neck, a gentle touch that made Trevor tremble. How long had it been since he’d felt another’s flesh against his? Since before Nathan left, maybe weeks before. Near the end, they shared a bed but slept on separate sides, the imaginary line of demarcation between them as real as the Grand Canyon. With a sigh, Trevor muttered, “I was on the defense last time. I guess I didn’t expect you to be so…” “Forward?” Zack offered. When Trevor shrugged, he admitted, “I can come on a bit strong, I know. It’s almost a test, see? If I start out with guns blazing, it’s that much harder to get shot down. But when your shields engaged, I knew I’d gone too far. Let me guess. You’re just coming down from a bad break-up?” Trevor leaned forward to stare between his feet at the ground littered with crushed cigarette butts. “I really don’t want to talk about it.” The hand on his neck drifted down between his shoulder blades, then scratched softly along his back. “It’s okay,” Zack murmured as he traced the curve of Trevor’s spine. “To be honest, I’m not sure I want to hear it. It’s always a crapshoot when you’re up against an ex. Either you’re worlds better or you fall short—there’s no middle ground.” With a shaky laugh, Trevor shook his head. “Whoa. I feel like you’re off and running and I’m just being dragged along for the ride.” Zack grinned at him. “I move a bit fast.” His hand rested on Trevor’s back, warm through his dress shirt. “I didn’t mean to trigger your defenses, really. But I’ve always had this thing for redheads. When I saw you, I did a double take—I swear! I had to take a chance on you, feel you out, see if maybe you were interested.” Trevor looked back over his shoulder and wanted to know, “In what?” “I invited you into the elevator to find out.” Zack’s smile turned mischievous, and something in the way his eyes glistened made Trevor’s blood race. “I thought I’d get your number at least. Then you went and took the stairs.”

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“Elevators creep me out,” Trevor said. It was silly, a man his age scared of something as stupid as an elevator, but there it was—he hated the enclosed space, the crush of bodies, the drop in his stomach whenever the car moved. And when they broke down… “What happens when the power goes out and you’re stuck between floors?” With a saucy wink, Zack answered, “That’s when the fun begins.” “I don’t know,” Trevor started. Zack pulled out a business card from somewhere and slipped it into the front pocket of Trevor’s shirt. “I have an office upstairs. Nothing fancy, I’m telling you—just a little hole in the wall, but the door locks and the blinds close. If you’re ever interested, come on up one day after work, what do you say? I’m curious to see how far down that red hair of yours goes.” He laughed at Trevor’s shocked expression. “I’ve never been with a true redhead before. I’m sure I’ll make it worth your while.” One final rub across Trevor’s back and Zack stood up. As his words sunk in, Trevor’s face flushed, his cheeks burning to rival his hair. He’d never been so blatantly propositioned before. After Nathan, he’d sworn off on another relationship, but something strictly physical, something fun…that might be interesting. Raising his voice, he called out after Zack, “Was that an offer?” Halfway to the glass doors, Zack turned and walked backwards, his gaze like a hand over Trevor’s body. “One I hope you don’t refuse.” Then he disappeared inside, leaving Trevor staring after him, wide-eyed and speechless. **** It was Friday before Trevor found the courage to turn left instead of right in the stairwell, heading up towards Zack’s floor after work. “Wrong way,” one of the other CSRs called after him, but he waved the words aside and kept going. 12

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Trevor had toyed with the idea of calling first but didn’t—if he weren’t the only one this guy invited upstairs, he wanted to know now, before they went any further. Besides, if he just showed up without warning, then maybe Zack would already have other plans and they’d just walk out together, exchange numbers, make a date. Ever since he decided during his lunch cigarette break that he had to see Zack again, Trevor couldn’t stop dwelling on what might happen. Would Zack remember him? Of course, his mind whispered. Would he brush Trevor off, say he hadn’t meant what he said, close the door in his face? Trevor didn’t know. He hated this part of a relationship, before there was anything between them but raw lust, before either of them had invested enough words and memories and time to care what the other felt or thought. It was a shaky market, the whole dating scene, and Trevor wasn’t sure he wanted to drop everything he had into someone just yet—he didn’t want the market to crash, didn’t want the bottom to fall out like it had when Nathan left, didn’t want to lose all over again. According to the office number on Zack’s card, he was on the fifth floor. As Trevor pulled open the fireproof door, he could still hear his coworkers trampling downstairs, feet scuffling amid the jangle of keys and laughter. On the other side of the door, an ornate carpet stretched past the elevators to a reception area at the far end of the hall, where a secretary was in the middle of straightening her desk before leaving for the weekend. When she saw Trevor approach, she shook her head. “Sir, our offices are closed—” “I work downstairs,” he said. At her frown, he flashed his keycard as proof. “I’m looking for Zack Jackson’s office? Room 523?” She pointed to her left down another hall. “Last room on the right, just past the water fountain. I suppose you want me to let him know you’re coming?”

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The way she glared at the phone told Trevor that she hoped he didn’t. “No, go on. I just want to stop in and say hey.” She skirted the desk, heading for the elevators. Trevor called out, “Have a nice weekend.” She gave him a little wave, then turned away. Taking a deep breath to get his nerves under control, he headed in the opposite direction. More than anything else at this moment, he wished he could take a quick puff on a cigarette, just get some nicotine into his body, calm his ass down. The door to Zack’s office was open. Trevor slowed his steps as he approached, and stopped before he reached the door. Another deep breath—you can do this, you know this guy. Well, sort of. You know he wants you, at any rate, and damn, he ain’t hard on the eyes. But what if Zack had meant nothing by all his flirtations? What if he didn’t even remember Trevor? He did a double-take when he saw you, Trevor reminded himself. Didn’t he say that? You think he’s going to just forget something like that? Trevor peered around the door frame into the office…hadn’t Zack said it was small? Along one wall stretched a sleek, black leather sofa; the other sported a small fridge nestled between unused filing cabinets and bookcases full of books that looked as if they were part of the décor. Zack hadn’t struck him as the intellectual type, and Trevor wondered if he spent his days up here, reading those books instead of working. Must be nice… Framed on either side by the bookcases sat a wide desk of dark teak wood that spanned the floor-to-ceiling window of the far wall. Through the miniblinds, the tinted glass cast the room in a cool, blue tone. Behind the desk, rocking back in one of those executive chairs that Trevor knew he’d never sit in himself, balanced precariously on only two of the chair’s coastered legs, Zack frowned in concentration at a flat screen monitor. “Full house, bitch,” he muttered under his breath. So he didn’t spend his days reading…poker online? When Trevor cleared his

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throat, Zack glanced up and the chair slipped out from under him, dumping him to the floor. “Shit!” he cried, then in the same breath, “Trevor! There you are.” Suddenly Trevor didn’t feel quite so nervous anymore. “Are you okay?” Zack stood, flashing a bright grin. “Fine,” he said with a laugh. “Damn chair. Happens all the time.” He hauled the large chair upright, then hurried around the desk to close the office door. With a hand on Trevor’s shoulder, he eased the door shut, the smile on his face never wavering. “There,” he sighed, moving closer as his arm came up around Trevor’s waist. Resting his chin on Trevor’s shoulder, Zack blew gently into his ear and murmured, “Is it five o’clock already?” He laughed again when Trevor flinched. “Moving too fast, am I? What else did you come up here for?” Before Trevor could answer, Zack whirled away and opened the refrigerator. “You want something to drink? I’ve got some beer, a bottle of wine but it’s not chilled. Some soda, water…let’s go with the beer.” Extracting two bottles of Killigan’s Irish Red, Zack twisted off the caps and handed one bottle to Trevor. A faint mist of cold air swirled from the mouth of the bottle. Zack drained half of his beer in one swig. With a wink, he said, “Drink up. Unwind. Hey, you want to smoke? No one’s here, it’s cool.” Trevor shook his head. “Whoa, hold up. You keep beer in your office?” At Zack’s grin, he asked, “What exactly is it you do up here?” With a nod at the computer, Zack countered, “You mean besides play poker online? I’m grand master of my league. Try the beer. It’s really good.” Trevor took a small sip—it was good. Icy on the tongue, but it warmed its way down his throat to curl into the pit of his stomach. His tension dissolved with another sip. “Your business card says you’re head of the marketing department.” “It does?” Zack shrugged, threw back the rest of his beer, opened the fridge for another. “That’s what I do then. Head the department. I give great head.”

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Trevor choked on his beer as Zack laughed. “I’m kidding,” he said, and then, quickly, added, “Well no, I’m not. I mean no one’s said it outright but no one’s ever been disappointed.” With a graceful pirouette, Zack plopped onto the sofa and patted the space beside him. “I’m rambling. It’s good to see you! I was starting to think you wouldn’t bother. Have a seat. I was serious about lighting up.” “I’m fine.” Trevor sank down to sit on the edge of the sofa and looked around the office, searching for something to talk about. Other than a small stack of papers on Zack’s desk, he didn’t see anything that looked work related. Maybe this far up the corporate ladder, you could get paid for playing poker all day. “So,” Trevor said, sipping at his beer. “How long have you been with the company?” “Forever.” Finishing off his second beer, Zack tugged at the back of Trevor’s blazer and said, “Let’s get this off you. Work’s over, right?” Trevor let him help take the blazer off, which Zack tossed unceremoniously to the ground. Then Zack eased him back against the sofa, fingers already working the knot in Trevor’s tie. “Loosen this a bit, there. Oh hell, take the damn thing off, right?” He unthreaded it from Trevor’s collar and dropped it aside, too. Before Trevor could speak, Zack began unbuttoning the front of his shirt. “While we’re at it…” Somehow Trevor managed to get his hands up between them and he pushed Zack’s away. “Wait.” “Oh come on.” Zack fell back against the sofa, exasperated. “You’re the one who came up here.” “You invited me,” Trevor pointed out. “Don’t tell me you don’t know why.” For a long moment Zack stared at him, waiting for a reply, but Trevor didn’t know what to say and picked at the label on his beer bottle instead of meeting that steady gaze. Just why did he come up here? He thought he knew but now he wasn’t sure, and the way his body hummed from Zack’s touch made him think that maybe things weren’t moving too fast but he himself moved too slow. 16

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If he set the beer aside and stood up to leave, Zack would never invite him again. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to, God knew. From the moment he decided this afternoon that tonight he’d visit Zack’s office, Trevor had been sporting a slight hard-on that had grown into a full-fledged erection straining against his briefs. He was thankful that his pants bunched up at the crotch when he sat so Zack wouldn’t see just how eager he was to be here, despite whatever show of resistance he might put up. Nathan was out of his life, he had to accept that, he did accept it. So why not let this guy in? he wondered. What harm was that? Beside him, Zack kicked off his sandals and pulled his feet up under him. He curled around Trevor, stretching one arm behind him, and rested his chin on Trevor’s shoulder. “Listen,” he purred. Trevor glanced at him, then went back to frowning at his beer bottle. Zack’s hand massaged Trevor’s neck, his fingers playing in Trevor’s hair. “I like you, okay? I don’t normally pick out guys from the third floor to invite up here for orgies after work, you know?” Trevor tried to frown harder, but the corner of his mouth turned up in a slight grin and Zack laughed. “I just bought the beer yesterday, I swear. I thought I’d keep it here to impress you, just in case you came by. But if anyone else found out? My ass would be chewed up and spit out on the curb. You know it.” “It’s good beer.” Taking a swig, Trevor leaned back to swallow and Zack laid his open palm on the top of Trevor’s head, fingers massaging gently into his scalp. “It’s damn good beer. You sure you don’t want to smoke? You can, you know.” But Trevor shook his head. “Nathan used to say—” Zack’s grin turned sour, but Trevor pressed on. “My ex. He used to tell me that kissing a smoker is like licking an ashtray.” “That’s stupid,” Zack declared. “Proof that he’s an idiot, if letting someone like you get away wasn’t enough. Are you blushing?” “Just flushed,” Trevor admitted. “A little hot.”

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Zack laughed. “I think you’re more than a little hot.” He leaned close, his breath cool on Trevor’s heated skin, and whispered, “Did you know your ears are almost the same color as your hair right now? Did this Nathan guy ever lick an ashtray himself, or did he just come up with that dumbass saying because he wasn’t a good kisser?” “Anyone can kiss,” Trevor stammered. Zack’s closeness was like the sun blazing beside him. It made him dizzy and dazzled and light-headed, the way he felt after falling asleep at the beach. With Zack so near, his blood roared like the tide through his veins, surging wherever they touched. “It’s not that hard.” “A fish can kiss. Just puckering up doesn’t make it good. All animals fuck, right? But we’re the only ones who enjoy it.” With a nervous titter, Trevor said, “What a leap, kissing to…” He turned toward Zack and was surprised to find that they were mere inches away—when had that happened? He tried to pull back a bit, put some distance between them, but Zack’s hand on the back of his head kept him close. In a soft voice, Trevor murmured, “We haven’t even kissed yet.” Zack’s eyes flashed with excitement, the curve of his grin turning into a sexy leer that set Trevor’s heart racing. Brushing his lips against Trevor’s, he sighed, “I thought you’d never ask.” Closing his eyes, Trevor opened his mouth to the eager tongue that licked into him. He felt as if he were drowning in Zack—he’d never been kissed with such attention to detail. Zack nibbled on his lower lip then delved into him with a hunger that took Trevor’s breath away. Deeper, easing him down to the arm of the sofa, lying above him and unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. A gasp, then another kiss, this one demanding, as Zack smoothed aside Trevor’s shirt, his hand rubbing over the faint hair curled across Trevor’s chest. A knee between Trevor’s legs, pressing against the sweet ache in his balls, another kiss that danced over his tongue and teeth.

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Zack kissed him as if he’d invented it and wanted to see how far he could go before it turned into something else. Each taste was a new experience for Trevor, each touch a venture into uncharted territory that together they needed to conquer. Trevor moved beneath Zack, humped against him, settling into a rhythm that brought their groins together with a grinding bump. As Zack trailed kisses along his chin and down his throat, Trevor arched away from the sofa to mesh against him as much as he could. He wanted to feel Zack with every pore of his body, feel the damp mouth on him everywhere all at once, feel those hands and the flutter of those eyelashes and the fall of that hair against his skin. When hot lips closed over one nipple, sucking it erect, Trevor moaned. Zack bit playfully at the nipple, teasing it harder, and Trevor felt his briefs grow wet and warm. He fisted his hands in Zack’s bushy hair, held him close as Zack tongued across his chest to the other nipple, already standing up in anticipation. This is what he came here for, this mouth on him, these hands, this, and oh God in Heaven above this. Moving lower, Zack kissed the faint hairs that faded away just above Trevor’s belt. “Let’s see this fire-crotch of yours,” he said, swirling his tongue around Trevor’s navel as his fingers worked the belt free. “Wait,” Trevor sighed, breathless. At Zack’s frustrated expression, he laughed. “I’m kidding.” Zack growled, ‘You better be.” With sure hands, Zack unzipped the pants and tugged them down, pulling the briefs down as well. Released from his underwear, Trevor’s thick cock stood up from a patch of kinked red hair that flashed golden in the light. “Wait?” He licked at the pliable tip. “How much longer did you think you could hide this from me?” “I said I was kidding…” Trevor started, but his words dissolved into a moan of delight when Zack nuzzled between his legs to take his balls into his mouth. And he had thought the kisses were good?

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As Zack massaged his balls with tongue and lips, Trevor gasped, “Where did you learn that?” “You like?” Zack ran his tongue up Trevor’s length, nosing the slit before he took the engorged head between his lips. Trevor lifted his hips up off the sofa and drove his hard cock into that enthusiastic mouth. After a couple of deep thrusts, Zack let him slip free and leaned back to free his own erection. “Don’t move,” he said, half-standing on the cushions to yank his pants down to his knees. “I’ve got you right where I want you.” Trevor complied and Zack stretched out above him, their dicks side by side, and encircled both of them with one hand. He stroked them both, his own cock against Trevor’s, rolling the tips together to wet his hands with pre-cum then rubbing down their lengths to toy with Trevor’s nuts. His lips found Trevor’s again, his tongue salty with spunk, and he nestled into Trevor’s arms as they kissed, his hands never faltering between them. When Trevor draped an arm around his hip, Zack wiggled his ass and asked, “Do you mind rimming me? It helps me get off.” Trevor happily obliged, running his hand along the cleft between Zack’s round buttocks to find his snug hole. When he strummed across it, he felt Zack’s cock jerk against his, and Zack’s teeth closed tight on Trevor’s upper lip. Soon Zack began to rock back into Trevor’s palm, rubbing both of their dicks and kissing Trevor’s mouth, his chin, his cheeks, anywhere he could press his lips. Just beneath his breath, he chanted, “Yes, oh yes, God yes, please, yes, yes.” Then Trevor slipped his middle finger into Zack’s tight ass, and Zack came in a rush of hot jism that slicked Trevor’s belly and triggered his own thundering orgasm. **** Afterwards, they shared a smoke and the rest of Trevor’s beer. “I thought you said you quit,” Trevor said as he passed the lit cigarette to Zack. 20

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Taking a deep drag, Zack breathed out a perfectly shaped smoke ring. “I’m easily addicted,” he teased. “You’ve got me re-hooked.” By the time they untangled from each other and got up off the sofa, it was well after eight o’clock. The only light filtering through the blinds came from the street lamps in the parking lot outside. Zack, unsteady on his feet after the alcohol, kept bumping into Trevor as they dressed, giggling for no real reason and kissing Trevor in odd places—his elbow, his stomach, his knee through the material of his pants once, when Zack bent down to retrieve his sandals. Somehow they had gotten pushed up under the sofa, and when he leaned down in search of them, he fell solidly on his butt. “Get up, silly,” Trevor admonished, unbuttoning his shirt for a second attempt at buttoning it right. Zack tugged on Trevor’s shoelaces and laughed. “I can’t,” he sighed. “I’m not even all that drunk, really. I mean, really.” He gave Trevor an earnest look. “Really.” “How are you going to get home?” Trevor wanted to know. He stooped down and felt around beneath the sofa until he located the sandals, then dropped them into Zack’s lap. There was still a faint stain of dampness across his crotch. Trevor checked to make sure that he didn’t have one, too. “You look like you wet yourself.” “You got me wet,” Zack accused. Slipping on his sandals, he pulled himself up using Trevor for balance but halfway to his feet, he buried his face into Trevor’s pillowy crotch. “Take me home,” he murmured, his hot breath curling through Trevor’s pants to excite him again. “I can’t drive like this, can I? Take me home with you.” With a laugh, Trevor lifted Zack up and held onto his arms to keep him from swooning. “You only had what, two beers?” “I’m a light-weight,” Zack admitted solemnly. Hugging Trevor around the waist, he snuggled up against him and sighed. “I am not going to make it down all those flights of stairs.” Trevor had suspected as much. Rescuing his blazer and tie off the floor, he wrapped an arm around Zack’s shoulders and led him from the office. The fact that 21

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Zack wouldn’t let him go was quite flattering—Nathan had always claimed Trevor was cold and distant after sex, but this…he could get used to this. Out in the lobby, he held Zack as they waited for the elevator. When the doors opened he hesitated, but Zack stepped inside the small lift and pulled Trevor in after him. “Kiss me,” he demanded. Trevor obeyed, pressing Zack against the mirrored wall as the doors shut behind him. He was only vaguely aware of Zack fumbling for the elevator buttons, then the bottom of his stomach dropped as the elevator ascended. “Oops,” Zack murmured against Trevor’s lips. “Wrong direction.” “You just wanted to get me up again,” Trevor teased. He kissed Zack again, concentrating on the way their bodies responded to each other and trying desperately to ignore the whine of gears as the elevator continued to move. Zack brushed a hand across the front of Trevor’s pants. “I think you’re already up…” he started as the elevator ground to a halt. As the doors opened behind Trevor, Zack’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh shit.” A man’s harsh voice bellowed, “Zachary Taylor Jackson!” Trevor turned to find an imposing man in a three-piece suit blocking the doorway. Older than Trevor by a good twenty years, with a receding hairline and ruddy, apoplectic cheeks, the man swelled with indignation until he seemed to block out the rest of the world. “Just what is the meaning of this?” To Trevor, Zack muttered, “Don’t say a word.” Suddenly he didn’t seem quite so drunk. Taking a step forward, Zack started, “Dad, look—” “How many times do I have to tell you?” Zack’s father shouted, cutting his off. “Not in the goddamn elevators!” Dad. Trevor glanced at the floor indicator and almost groaned. Top level, eighth floor,…so Zack and Mike L. Jackson, CEO, were related. He should’ve known. “I’m dead.” Over his shoulder, Zack assured him, “He doesn’t know who you are.” “Who are you?” the CEO demanded.

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“Quiet,” Zack cautioned, hitting the lobby button as the elevator doors started to close, hurrying them along. Trevor’s mind blurred. By the time Zack’s father thought to stop them, the doors were already shut. The fucking CEO, Jesus. “Shit,” Zack cursed. He banged a fist against the mirrored wall and turned away when Trevor looked at him. “Don’t worry,” he said, his earlier mood gone. His voice sounded dull, morose. “He doesn’t know you work here. He doesn’t even know who you are.” “And who the hell are you?” Trevor wanted to know. It made sense—the casual clothing, the computer games, the lack of actual work in Zack’s office. He felt used now, unclean, alone. “You do this often?” he asked, unable to keep the anger from his words. “How many times has he told you not to fuck around with the hired help in the elevators?” “You’re not—” Zack tried. But Trevor didn’t want to hear it. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Zack whirled to face him, eyes livid with hurt and rage. “Why?” he asked. “You want to know why? I’ll tell you why. What would you have said if I came up to you outside and was like hey, I’m Zack, my dad owns the company? Or hey, come on up to my office, my dad signs your paychecks. Would you have bothered with me? Tell me the truth, Trevor. Would tonight even have happened if you knew? No.” He was right and Trevor frowned at the lit indicator above the door, watching it tick through the floors down to the lobby. He knew Zack was right. If he had known Zack’s father was the CEO, their whole dynamic would have changed. He would have kept his distance, been polite, of course, but differential, aloof. He wouldn’t have dared come upstairs after work. He wouldn’t have even looked Zack in the eye if he could help it. In the mirrored wall, he saw a single tear course down Zack’s tanned cheek before being brusquely swept away.

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Zack mumbled, “You want to know how many others there have been? One. A guy named Adam, a college roommate of mine who stopped in one evening to visit me. I’d just been hired and thought I’d be cool, show him around the place, and yes, things got a bit frisky in the elevators. I mean, damn. You know me, I move fast.” With a grunt, Trevor said, “Tell me about it.” “It was nothing serious,” Zack assured him. “Adam was an old friend, neither of us were involved with anyone else, and you’ve got to believe me, I don’t fuck around when I’m committed to someone. I don’t. We were just riding the elevator up and down, getting it on, and same thing happened—door opened and my dad’s standing there glaring like the angel of death. He hasn’t ever let me forget it.” Because Trevor didn’t know what else to say, he tried, “I’m sorry.” “Me too,” Zack whispered. “I can’t date guys from work. They use me to move up in the company, or try to get away with shit because they’re tight with me, and I don’t want to deal with that hassle. But I saw you like three weeks ago? Out front smoking. I agonized over how to approach you—” “Stop it,” Trevor said. He tried not to smile, but the thought of someone as confident as Zack being afraid of him made Trevor grin. Zack insisted, “I’m serious! Should I tell you outright look, my dad’s the CEO but go out with me anyway? Or should I just play it by ear, see what happens? In the end, I just said the hell with it and hoped you wouldn’t be too mad when you found out.” In the mirror, their eyes met. “Are you mad?” The elevator rumbled to a halt and the doors opened. Trevor thought a moment, then realized that he wanted to wake up beside this guy, he wanted to kiss him again, to hold him and discover the myriad of other pleasures they could together. It didn’t matter who his father was—or wasn’t. With a shake of his head, Trevor promised, “I’m not mad.” He slipped his hand into Zack’s and squeezed. “Did you still want to come home with me?” 24

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Zack squeezed Trevor’s hand in return. “I told you, you’ve got me hooked.” Trevor led the way to his car. Same here. The End

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Working Man: Easily Addicted

We hope you enjoyed this short story by J.M. Snyder, one of several scheduled for her Working Man series. J.M has several GBLT stories available at www.AspenMountainPress.com including: Trin; Just What the Doctor Ordered; and Scarred.

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