Eye of the Beholder

Praise for the writing of D.J. Manly In the Eye of the Beholder In the Eye of the Beholder touched my heart. With com...

Author: Manly D J

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Praise for the writing of D.J. Manly

In the Eye of the Beholder

In the Eye of the Beholder touched my heart. With compelling characters and interesting plot, this story was one I had to finish in one sitting. -- Michelle Hasker, author of Midnight Rendezvous (Loose Id) D.J. Manly enters the world of fashion photography to show that long-term love can be found even in a world that is dedicated to fleeting pleasure. Frank has paid a high price to learn that lesson, but will Danny let Frank teach him the lesson so painfully bought? There's plenty of entertainment and a generous helping of hot m/m sex in what is in the end a satisfying and sweet love story. -- Jules Jones, author of Buildup: Pulling Strings (Loose Id)

In the Eye of the Beholder is so much more than a love story. It is a wonderful look at what is important in life, and in love. This book has earned a place on my keeper shelf. -- Melinda Barron, author of Tales of the Magician 1: The Captive One (Loose Id) The glamour and glitz of the male modeling world is at its shiniest and shallowest in In the Eye of the Beholder. D.J. Manly does a fantastic job at creating two heroes who are both flawed, but find perfection in each other. Manly brings them together in a wickedly hot combustion of raw sex, yet combines it with deep real emotions to bring about a wonderfully satisfying tale of what your eyes can finally see if opened enough. -- Mechele Armstrong, author of Dinah’s Dark Desire (Loose Id)

IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

D.J. Manly

www.loose-id.com

Warning This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

***** This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable (homoerotic sex, ménage, violence).

In the Eye of the Beholder D.J. Manly This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Published by Loose Id LLC 1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924 Carson City NV 89701-1215 www.loose-id.com

Copyright © October 2006 by D.J.Manly All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

ISBN 978-1-59632-347-6 Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

Printed in the United States of America

Editor: Maryam Salim Cover Artist: Bonni Elizabeth Hall

www.loose-id.com

Chapter One

Edward Haller was at the end of his rope. He sat in his office, chewing on his thumbnail, wondering how in the hell he was going to deal with Danny’s latest crisis. Danny Verdi was twenty-two years old and the hottest male model on the fashion scene today. Everyone wanted him, from Voguest to Glamour World. The problem was that his ego had grown almost as fast as his bank account. Danny knew he could demand just about anything he wanted, and get it. Lately, there had been one crisis after another. Now, he was threatening to bow out of his latest campaign for a major New York fashion conglomerate because he refused to work with Yerik Markov. Yerik Markov was currently the top fashion photographer in his field. He was in the process of photographing a line of fashion, with Danny as the center model. Danny had slept with Yerik, and as usual, quickly tired of him. Now, it was too uncomfortable for them to work together. What else was new? Danny changed lovers as often as he changed outfits. When Edward had suggested the reasons for refusing to work with Yerik were personal, Danny hit the ceiling. “Markov is incompetent. He couldn’t take a picture of a barn. It has nothing to do with the way he makes love, although that is also sorely lacking. You practically have to give that pathetic Russian directions. Get me a professional, Edward,

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or forget it. I’m tired and I deserve better than this. Find me a photographer who knows what in hell they’re doing, or find another model!” “Yerik is the photographer of choice for Taboo,” Edward had groaned. “Damn it, Danny, did you have to alienate him? He’s the best. Now we have to find you another photographer, pronto.” Danny didn’t seem to care. He simply shrugged his slim shoulders. “That’s your job, Eddie,” he muttered, and sauntered out. Edward was now wracking his brain to come up with another photographer, one that Taboo would accept. There was no one better than Yerik, except for one. But he was out of the question. He had withdrawn from the fashion world a few years back. A terrible accident had left him disfigured, and he had become a recluse. Edward sat back, remembering Frank Melina. God, he had been something. It was before Danny came into the fashion world. At only twenty-two, Frank had been the best in the business. He was a beautiful man, tall and well built, with huge eyes and long black hair. He was charming too. All the models wanted to work with him, and they all wanted to be in his bed. Not just the models. He remembered how close he himself had come one night to ... oh well ... water under the bridge. It wasn’t meant to be. He could still see Frank, the way everyone was drawn to him when he walked into a room, people hanging onto his every word. He could turn a toad into a prince with one click of his camera, and he had a way with the most temperamental of models. They all loved him. They all wanted him. They all behaved for him. Then, the fire happened -- the fire that had been deliberately set by a scorned lover. A fire that left one half of his beautiful face terribly scarred. After that, Frank had dropped out of everything. He left New York, bought a house in his native Italy and never ventured out again. After a few years, people gave up on him. Edward wondered if he could persuade Frank to work with Danny. It would be ideal. Danny needed a rest, and Frank was a great photographer. Danny could go to Italy, stay with Frank for a little while, and they could work. The client would be thrilled to have Frank


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Melina as the photographer, he was world-renowned ... and Italy would be an ideal setting. The more he thought about it, the more enamored with his idea he became. He was at his wits’ end now. He had to do something. If Danny broke his contract with this client, they stood to lose millions ... and there was a possibility that Danny would be blacklisted for good. Taboo was a powerful entity. Edward took some of the recent glossy pictures of Danny, and put them in an envelope. He called his secretary and told her to find the address of Frank Melina in Italy. Then he sat down to type his carefully crafted letter.

Dear Frank, I’m sending you a few pictures of our recent beauty, Danny Verdi. I’m sure you’ve seen him in the magazines. He’s as temperamental as most and refuses to work with Yerik Markov. I suspect it’s a love tiff. Anyway, my friend, there is no one better in this business than you. You have been missed. I wonder if I could persuade you to come out of retirement for a month or so, and do an old friend a favor. I’m quite desperate. I could send Danny to you in Italy. I’m sure you have a studio at that grand house of yours. We would supply everything you would need, and there would be a handsome sum in it for you. I remember how you could handle those beautiful spoiled boys. It was a gift you had. Please, let me know. Yours, Ed.

***** When the doorbell rang at two thirty in the afternoon, Frank wondered who it could be. He wasn’t used to receiving visitors on Tuesdays. The housekeeper came Mondays and the groceries arrived on the same day. With a sigh, he walked across his living room floor and to the door, looking out to see a courier truck in the driveway. The man’s eyes widened a bit when the door opened. It didn’t even bother him anymore. “What is it?” he asked impatiently.

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“Signore Melina? There is a letter for you. Can you sign here, please?” Frank eyed the envelope and its American postage a little suspiciously before he scrawled his name on the clipboard. He reached in his pocket when the man gave him the envelope, and pressed a bill into his hand. “Grazie.” The young man nodded, then, stepped off the porch. Frank went back into the living room. He threw himself into the lazy boy chair he had only recently vacated, and tore open the envelope. Withdrawing the two glossy photographs, he whistled softly. Danny Verdi ... twenty-two years old, top male model on the scene today. His face was everywhere. He was a natural beauty, with dark curly hair falling softly to his shoulders, and big sherry brown eyes that reflected innocence and sensuality. He had the kind of mouth that could either be seductive or cruel. Frank caressed the image with his finger for a moment, then unfolded the accompanying letter. Edward Haller. He knew the man well. In his forties, on to his third or fourth wife and God knows how many boy toys on the side. He was the big man at Regent, one of the hottest modeling agencies in New York, possibly in North America. Haller. He had tried to accost him once in the men’s washroom during a Christmas party. Frank laughed, remembering. Haller had been quite loaded. He had his quirks, but he was a decent sort, and he had given Frank a break early on in his career when no one in the industry would even look at him. He put the letter down, and glanced around him. He loved this room, small and cozy. He had put in hard wood floors last summer, and a Jacuzzi. It was sparsely furnished, and very old. This house had been his refuge, but lately, it had become his prison. Frank sighed as he reached for the phone and dialed the number. He knew it by heart. He had called it enough. “Edward Haller’s office,” a woman answered. Of course, it was not the same receptionist. Edward never kept them long. Most of them were wannabe models. They would strut into the office every day dressed to the nines. Eddie always had his own private


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fashion show, not to mention sex on demand. When his wife would discover his indiscretion, he would get rid of that one, and hire another. “Hello. Frank Melina for Edward Haller.” “Yes, Mr. Melina. I will transfer you directly,” the voice said politely. A few seconds later, Ed’s excited voice came over the line. “Frank, my God, how are you, man?” “I’m very well, Eddie, and you?” Frank leaned back in his chair, smiling as he picked up Danny Verdi’s photos again and studied them. “Busy, caught up in the rat race ... you know how it is. You lived it. You got my letter, then?” “Umm, I’m holding it in my hands as we speak,” Frank replied softly. “Who took these pub shots, Eddie, a tourist?” Eddie laughed a little harder than was necessary. “Nasty ... nasty ... you know full well that Markov took them.” “Yes, and I’m kidding. He’s a good man. You do know ... that what you ask of me is out of the question.” There was a pause. “Listen, Frank, you’ve been out of the circuit for far too long. It’s time to dip your foot back in now. I’m not even asking you to come to New York.” “Ah, I see,” Frank laughed lightly, “you’re doing me a favor.” Edward sighed. “I didn’t think you’d fall for that one, but I thought I’d try. You always were a smart bugger. What have you been doing with yourself?” “I’ve been working, selling my photographs, I just don’t do live subjects anymore, Ed.” “Then you have a studio at that old house of yours?”

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“Of course,” Frank replied, looking out the window. He had been doing nature photos lately, and selling them to magazines. He loved doing this type of photography. There were no complications, no talking back. “It would take a month out of your life,” Ed pleaded. “It would be good for you.” “You mean -- it would be good for you.” “All right, all right, name your price, anything. We need a series of photos for Taboo’s summer fashions. You’re the only one I got ... and it would be a wonderful place too ... the client is on board. I’ve spoken to them already. Besides, Danny needs a vacation. He would be away from all those men who complicate his life.” “You’re rambling, Edward.” “You understand what I’m saying. He’s always getting involved, and then uninvolved. It doesn’t matter when it’s some mindless junior model, but with photographers, Frank. With you ... well ... I wouldn’t worry about that sort of thing.” He stopped. “You know what I mean.” He sounded uncomfortable. “You mean there wouldn’t be any danger of him wanting to fuck me.” There was no bitterness in his voice. “No repeat of Yerik.” Edward cleared his throat. “You know I didn’t mean anything by that. You remember how vain these young models are. Beauty is everything. They have no depth to them.” “Of course,” Frank replied dryly. He was remembering how it was to live in that world again. The memories were not fond ones. Everything was superficial. There were no real feelings. It was who you knew, and who you could get into bed with. It was artificial and cold; and he had been as guilty as the rest of them. He had been swept away by that world, high on being wanted by all the beautiful people. Now, that was all over. Five years ago, he had been at the top of his game in a world filled with glamour, beauty, and sex. Anything was possible. He had had everything considered to be of value in that world. He was incredibly rich, incredibly handsome, and always in demand, both


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professionally and socially. He’d driven a fast car, lived in a luxury condo, and traveled the world with beautiful people. He’d partied all night on yachts, slept with the most desirable models, ate caviar and drank champagne, and he hadn’t given a damn whose heart he broke. And he broke many. He’d lived a life the world envied, yet he had been too wrapped up in it to see how empty and shallow that world was. It took one of his lowly assistants to teach him that lesson. That’s why he would never go to Switzerland to get his face fixed. He never intended to forget. Edward was talking to him again, making idle chitchat, but he was barely listening. His thoughts had turned to Cory Peterson. Cory’s suicide would haunt him the rest of his life. It didn’t matter what the head doctors told him. Peterson was a stalker ... disturbed, an obsessive-compulsive personality with poor self-esteem. Even though all of that might have been true, ultimately, he was to blame. If he had bothered to get to know him better, to really care ... but he had slept with him once, and then couldn’t even remember it. That’s how callous he had become, that’s how superficial. Somehow he had become exactly like the world he was living in. “So will you do it?” Edward was asking him. “Frank, are you still there?” “I’m here,” he managed, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice. He hadn’t been prepared for what reconnecting with that world would do to him. He glanced again at the pictures he held in his hands, and sighed softly. “One month. Send me the contract. I want my usual fee, half up front and half on completion. If there are any problems, or even a hint of one, I’m sending his ass back, and I keep half my fee.” “Ouch. You always did drive a hard bargain ... haven’t lost your touch, I see. All right, Frank, it’s a deal. I will send him out by the end of the week. Let me know where I can deposit the money, and I’ll send the paperwork with him. Taboo will ship the fashions. I’m sure they will be providing people too.” “No, no people. I’ll manage on my own. I have people.”

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“Whatever you want.” Edward sounded relieved. “I’ll have someone at the airport to pick him up. Let me know what flight.” “Frank, you’re a lifesaver. I love you. Thanks.” “Don’t thank me yet,” he said gruffly, and hung up. He stood up and looked out the window. The leaves were beautiful. He would do some shooting this afternoon. He didn’t want to ask himself why he’d decided to take Edward’s offer. Maybe it was loneliness. Maybe it was greed. It would only be a month, and then it would be over. He picked up his camera, grabbed his jacket and walked outside.


Chapter Two

Monty knocked timidly at the door of Danny Verdi’s condo. Yesterday, he had been standing in line waiting for a photo audition, when Danny Verdi himself had walked by. They all knew who he was, all the poor preening hopefuls. Verdi was a god. He had what they all wanted. He was gorgeous, rich and popular. When Danny stopped and looked at him, Monty just about died. He could hardly believe it. Taking out a small card, Danny had pressed it into his hand. “Tomorrow night,” he mouthed, “after ten.” On the card was his address, a posh condo in upper Manhattan. Monty couldn’t believe his luck. Danny was just what he needed to give him that push. After a few minutes, the door to Danny’s condo opened. There he was, looking gorgeous in a scruffy pair of loose fitting joggers. Monty gave him a shy smile. “Hi. It’s me.” Danny gazed at him for a minute as if he didn’t know him, then said, “Oh, yeah, the kid from the lineup. Come in, come in.” Monty followed him into a sunk-in living room with a white shag carpet and black leather sofa. Across one wall was a huge plasma television; across the other were two sliding balcony doors. Glossy blown-up photographs of Danny littered the walls.

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“Have a seat.” Danny wasn’t wearing a shirt. His slender form had just the right amount of muscle tone. “Monty, right?” “Yes, Monty Adams,” he said, sinking into the leather sofa. “What do you want to drink?” Danny asked him, going over to the bar that was located near the television. “Gin, if you have it.” “Are you old enough to drink?” Monty was a golden boy with sleek blond hair hanging to his shoulders and sky blue eyes. He was probably five pounds over the required weight, but “they” would make sure he got rid of that quickly. Monty was laughing when Danny handed him the drink. “How old do you think I am?” Danny sat down beside him. After studying him for a minute, he said, “Barely eighteen, if that ... about the same age I was when I started in this business.” He reached over and caressed his cheek. Monty sucked his breath at the touch, then downed the gin. Danny reached over to the side of the sofa and touched a button. Soft music began to play. “Aren’t you having one?” Monty asked, indicating his empty glass. “No, liquor is fattening, goes right to my hips. Another?” “No.” Monty shook his head. Danny reached over and smoothed his hair back from his forehead. “You know I want to fuck you, don’t you?” Danny announced, searching his eyes. Monty blushed some. “Well ... I ...” “So if you don’t want that, I suggest you leave,” he added, his voice controlled, and without emotion.


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“No ... I ...” Monty began, as a hand reached out and caressed his jean clad thigh. He swallowed. “Take off your shirt.” Monty reached down and lifted his T-shirt over his head. He put it aside, trembling. Danny ran his eyes over his chest, his brown nipples, and his stomach. Nice, not as toned as he was, but nice enough. He could use a bit more pectoral definition. Tracing his finger now around one of his nipples, and then down his ribcage, he smiled at him. “Take off your jeans. Do you wear underwear?” Monty shook his head. “No,” he said, standing up. “Slowly,” Danny said. He was looking for a new thrill, anything to ease the boredom. Hopefully this guy could do it for him. Monty slowly undid the zipper on his jeans, revealing his semi-erect cock, and small almond-shaped balls. Danny was disappointed. He liked them big, and thick, and Monty’s cock was definitely average. He watched as he moved the jeans over his hips and let them fall at his feet. “I forgot my shoes,” Monty said, a little uncomfortably. Danny gave him a patient smile. Monty leaned over and began to undo his running shoes. Danny stood up and moved around behind him. Now, that was a nice ass. What he lacked in front, he more than made up for in the back. Danny placed his hands on his buttocks. “Stay like that.” Monty froze. Danny moved his sweatpants down and stepped out of them. Monty felt Danny’s cock against his ass. “I’m going to fuck you, Monty. I’m going to fuck that ass of yours all night long.”

Monty felt his cock begin to throb. A finger moved around the entrance to his anus, then began to move up inside of him. For a few minutes, the finger fucked his entrance, then

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withdrew. Monty moaned a little. “Come with me,” Danny said, pushing away from him abruptly. Monty turned around, getting a look at Danny’s cute little ass. His slender body was perfect. He didn’t take his eyes off his ass until Danny led him into a room and turned on the light. On the ceiling was a mirror centered directly over the bed. Monty had heard about mirrored ceilings, but he’d never actually seen one before. Danny opened the closet door. He took out a small box. Monty glanced at it curiously. “Get on the bed,” Danny told him. “Lie on your stomach, and spread your legs wide.” Monty slowly went over to the bed and lay down as Danny instructed him to do. He was as nervous as he was excited. Seconds later, Danny was handcuffing him to the bed posts. Then, giving him a slap on the buttocks, Danny told him to spread his legs wider. “Lift up your knees just a little.” As he did, straps went around both his ankles, and were fastened to some place under the sides of the bed. What in hell had he gotten himself into here? In this position, halfway up on his knees, his legs spread to high heaven, his wrists held, he was quite helpless. “Don’t worry, Monty,” Danny was saying, giving his ass another quick slap. “I won’t hurt you. I’m going to make you feel real good. Just remember, I’m in control, not you. No matter how far you go in this business,” Danny said, removing the coffee colored dildo from the box, “you’ll never be me. There’s only one Danny Verdi, and I might be a few years older than you, but I’m still on top of my game.” Danny flicked the switch on the sex toy, and it began to vibrate. “Of course ... I ... I’m not ... not you, Danny,” Monty replied, trying to twist around to get a look at the vibrating object. He could see Danny removing a bottle of almond-scented body oil. He rubbed it into the head of the vibrating dildo. He was taking his time, watching Monty.


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“Barely eighteen. You have a few good years in the business,” Danny said suddenly. “You are everything they’re looking for. You’ve got to have nerves of steel in this business, Monty. You can’t be easily frightened. They will eat you alive out there.” Monty felt Danny’s body hover over him now, his tongue slowly dipping down between his shoulders, trailing down his spine. The buzzing sound played in the background. Monty moaned softly as a hand reached between his opened buttocks and grazed his balls, then lightly brushed his swollen cock. It was just enough to tantalize, to cause his sex to spasm. The vibrating contraption whirled against the entrance of his anus. Danny’s hands moved over his ass. “You want it, Monty? You want to get fucked with this uncaring, insensitive piece of plastic? It won’t be gentle. It will use you, then leave you spent, exhausted. You’ll be insatiable then, wanting more ... and one day, they’ll throw you away.” Monty let out a deep moan as Danny fondled his scrotum. What in hell was he going on about? “Fuck me,” he cried out, his chest heaving. “God, just do it!” Danny laughed as he began to push the object deep inside of Monty’s ass. “You’ll do fine in this industry, Monty, just fine.” Monty felt the object begin to penetrate him, invading his anus, delving deeper until he felt completely filled by it. His entire body shuddered as Danny reached under him and pinched one of his nipples. It stiffened, aching for more. “Come on baby,” Danny urged, “move your ass, fuck it, don’t let it use you -- use it.” Monty thrust his ass up; the vibrating object went deeper. He felt cum leaking out of his cock. Danny began to thrust the object in and out of Monty’s ass, causing him to cry out. “That’s it, Monty boy,” Danny whispered, reaching around and pinching his nipple again, “fuck it. Move that ass. Work for it.” Monty moaned deeply, cum thundering up his shaft. “Yes, yes,” he cried, his body shuddering with orgasm, cum shooting out of his cock. “There’s a good slut.” Danny laughed. “I told you you’d do well in this business.”

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***** Later, Danny sat on the window seat across from the bed and watched Monty as he slept. He had released him from the cuffs as soon as he had come and told him to sleep. The sun was rising. It wasn’t unusual for him to not be able to sleep at night. The Ritalin gave him insomnia, but it was a small price to pay for staying thin. He got up from his seat at the window, leaned over and gently touched Monty on the shoulder. Monty opened up his eyes, and smiled. “Hello, Danny,” he said. “Hey, it’s time for you to get going now. I want to sleep.” Monty patted the place beside him. “Alone,” Danny said, meeting his gaze. Monty sat up. “Okay.” “Your clothes are out in the living room.” Monty paused, reaching out a hand to touch Danny on the shoulder. “I enjoyed the sex, but I would have liked to fuck you.” Danny glanced at him. “Not going to happen. I only let men fuck me ... men with extraordinary equipment. Otherwise it’s hardly worth it.” Monty stiffened. “Oh,” he said, his face flushed, getting out of bed. There was total silence until Monty was ready to leave. At the door, he said, “Ah, see you around.” “Sure,” Danny replied. When the door closed, he locked it. In the kitchen, he popped some Ritalin into his mouth, and then took a popcorn-flavored rice cake out of the cupboard. He ate half, then wrapped it back up and put it away. As he crawled into bed, he attempted to ignore the ache that was beginning to creep up the back of his head. He closed his eyes, trying not to think of anything. Edward would work out this thing with Taboo. He wouldn’t worry about that. As for Yerik, well, he could go to hell ... trying to tell him how to live. No one told him how to live.


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Just as he had fallen into an uneasy sleep, the phone rang. Danny reached over to the nightstand and picked up the phone. “This better be good.” “It’s your mother. What’s going on, Danny?” Danny sighed. “Elizabeth, I’m trying to sleep.” “Rumor has it that you will have plenty of time for sleeping. You had a falling-out with Yerik! When will you learn to stop fucking your photographers? You do realise that while you’re standing on pride, other, younger, prettier boys are out there working. You’re not going to be twenty-two forever. In fact, you’re already considered over the hill in some circles.” Danny let the phone fall down on the floor. His throbbing head sank back into the pillow and he began to dream. Elizabeth’s voice was still jabbering at him somewhere in the distance. He was a little boy again. Elizabeth, the “Sparkle Girl.” She had been on her way up in the fashion world when she had gotten involved with Keith Samson, her photographer. A few months later, she was pregnant and Keith had moved on to another “Sparkle Girl.” “You ruined my life, Danny ... fat, unwed, no agency wanted me. You better make it big. With all I’ve done for you ... you owe me ... you owe ... owe ... owe ...”

***** Edward Haller wasn’t sure how long he had stood outside Danny’s door before he finally answered it. “Where in hell have you been?” Edward demanded, pushing his way through the door. “And what in hell is wrong with your phone? It’s been busy for hours.” “Shit,” Danny said, flying off into his bedroom to pick up the phone receiver. “Elizabeth?” Dead air. He hung up and then came back out of his room, scowling at Edward. A wave of dizziness hit him, but passed. “I’m trying to sleep. What do you want?” He gave Edward a backward glance, then added, “Nice suit. Armani?” “Taboo, actually,” Edward replied, smoothing down the dark mauve material of his jacket.

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“An Armani copy. How quaint,” Danny said, running a hand through his disheveled dark hair. “Want a drink?” “It’s only two in the afternoon, for Christ’s sakes.” Danny shrugged. “So, what’s the news? You find me another photographer or not?” “I did better than that.” Edward came and sat next to him on the sofa. “I got you the best in the business ... Frank Melina.” Danny narrowed his eyes. “THE Frank Melina? Bullshit, he’s dead.” “I assure you, he’s not dead. I just spoke to him on the phone. He’s charging an arm and a leg, so I want no tantrums. I stand to lose half a million dollars. You’re going to Italy.” “Italy?” Danny actually smiled. “Really. Why Italy?” “Because that’s where he lives now. You’re going to stay with him. He’s going to do it there.” Danny smiled. “Cool. He was a big shot a few years back, wasn’t he?” “That’s putting it mildly.” “They still talk about him. Didn’t some loony tunes lock him in his developing room and set it on fire?” Edward nodded. “It was one of his assistants. The guy shot himself in the head after; a real nut job.” “Heavy. I thought Melina died in that fire.” “No, he managed to get out in time, but he was disfigured by developing fluid. It splashed on his face and left him badly scarred.” “Wow, so this guy is some kind of Frankenstein.” Danny sniffed, checking his nails. “He’s not going to gross me out or something, is he?” Danny looked up at Edward.


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Edward sighed. “Don’t worry about it. It’s a working relationship. I’m just telling you, behave yourself. He knows how to handle guys like you, and he won’t put up with your shit. If we lose him, your career is going down the toilet.” Danny smiled. “I’m sure I can wrap him around my little finger. He’s probably so desperate. He probably hasn’t been around guys who look as good as me, for a while. I’ll have him on his knees for a kind word. Is he gay?” Edward nodded. “Well, it’s in the bag, then. It’s pretty cool; I get to vacation, work, and do charity all at the same time.” “Danny,” Edward cautioned. Damn, he could be so callous sometimes. “Don’t worry, Ed, I’ll be a really good boy and give him a hard-on to boot. He’ll beat off so much at night, he’ll think he’s in paradise.” Danny gave him a near kiss on the cheek. Edward sighed. “I booked you a flight. Frank will have someone at the airport to meet you. Flight’s at one o’clock Friday afternoon because I know how you hate to get up in the mornings.” “First Class,” Danny added. “Of course. I have some papers for you to take to him.” Danny shook his head, and stood up. “I’m not an errand boy. Send them ahead.” Edward sighed again and nodded. “Fine. Okay, I’ll talk to you before you leave.”

***** When Frank came in from outside, there was a message from Edward Haller on his answering machine. “Danny will be on the one o’clock flight from New York, Friday. I’ve sent the paper work ahead by courier. It should arrive tomorrow. I included a check in the amount requested. It is certified and you can deposit it anywhere. Thanks again, Frank, and good luck. If you need anything, call me, and I’ll make sure you have it.”

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Frank sat down in his chair and watched the sun dip low in the sky. Well that was it then. It was done. There was no opportunity to withdraw his offer. He picked up the pictures of Danny Verdi again. He was beautiful ... almost too beautiful. Why in the hell would he want to work with someone like that again? He remembered what it was like ... these whiney little dictators who thought the entire world revolved around them because they had been on the cover of GQ1. They were always complaining. Back then, he could seduce them into behaving. He would close the studio, take off his clothes and ... God, it had been so long since he’d touched anyone. He’d often used sex to make them cooperate. They all wanted him, and after they’d had him, they were as good as gold, especially when they knew what was waiting for them at the end of the day. But he couldn’t use sex anymore. He walked over to the bookshelf on the wall and took down a photo album. There was a picture of him on the first page right before the accident. He was smiling, handsome. God, he could hardly believe it was him. He had begun modeling himself when he was seventeen. He probably could have gone all the way, but he hated the hot lights and makeup. He hated worrying about everything he put into his mouth. It wasn’t for him. He had always flirted with photography from the time he was a boy. He was taking courses when he was “discovered.” He had the eye. He ran his hand over the picture one more time, and closed the album. They had told him after the accident that his face could be repaired. With his wealth, anything was possible. This face was his punishment, his reminder of how his callousness had been responsible for the death of a young man who, yes, perhaps might have been emotionally disturbed. But he’d never seen it. He hadn’t even known him, and yet he had worked with him, made love to him. He closed his eyes, remembering the gun shot that rang out after he had been trapped inside his dark room. The fire, the heat, chemicals splashing into his face, and then the searing pain as he stumbled in the dark to the door. The doctors had said he’d been lucky not to lose his eyesight.


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In agony, his face burning, he managed to bust the door down, only to find Peterson on the floor at his feet, his brains splattered all over. There was blood everywhere and all he could think was, why? Why would he do this? He hadn’t seen Peterson in months. He had just up and quit on him one day. Then later, the police had showed him the note. It recounted the night they spent together; a night he could barely recall. Peterson wrote that he loved him. He couldn’t live without him, and that he was sorry. Cory Peterson haunted his dreams. For months, he woke up screaming in the middle of the night, checking his hands to make sure they weren’t covered in his blood. He stood over Cory’s grave before he left New York, begging his forgiveness. Sometimes he didn’t believe he’d ever be punished enough. He took a deep breath, cramming the album back on the shelf. His hands were trembling. He knew he had to step back into the living. It didn’t mean he had to get involved in that world again, but living alone all this time hadn’t been healthy either. That was the main reason he had agreed to this assignment in the first place. He could deal with the Danny Verdi’s of the world, but this time, he would do it on his own turf.

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Chapter Three

The flight to Rome was exhausting. Danny had heart palpitations as soon as the plane lifted off the ground, and that headache came back. He refused the meal that was offered to him during the flight, and asked them to bring him mineral water instead. A middle-aged Italian man met him at the airport with a sign. They went together to collect his bags, then he was led to a long black limo. At least this Melina guy knew how to treat someone like him. They headed northeast, the driver informing him that it was about a thirty-kilometer drive. “I thought Mr. Melina lived in Rome,” Danny inquired, looking around him as they hit the highway. “He does,” the driver replied politely in heavily accented English. “It is in Bracciano he lives ... still in Rome. We are on the Autostrada aldel Sole. It will take us right to the town. If you want to go to Rome, you take train ... about half-hour to Rome subways.” “Oh, okay,” Danny said. He had never been to Italy, so if he had time, he planned to do some sightseeing while he was here. He laid back his head and closed his eyes. His stomach was hurting him a little. He needed to relax. It was September already. He wasn’t sure what


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the weather would be like. He rested, and then opened his eyes a bit. “It seems mild today. Is this normal for this time of year here?” “The days ... like now, the nights cooler.” He had packed for every eventuality. He looked out the window now, and gasped. There was what looked like a medieval castle in the distance. The castle was overlooking a lake. “What is that?” Danny pointed. “Odescalchi Castle. It was built in the fifteenth century. We are about one kilometer outside Bracciano. The castle is overlooking Bracciano Lake. It is a volcanic lake, feeds all the fountains in Rome.” “It’s beautiful.” Danny was in awe as the huge moss covered castle slipped out of his view. His eyes scanned the green hillsides where sheep and horses were grazing. The lake was absolutely breathtaking, so blue, and stretching out for miles, as far as the eye could see. It was so peaceful, so completely alien to him after the smoggy, fast-paced existence of New York City. Suddenly, the car veered off and began tunneling across a narrow road overhung with fruit trees. Danny sat back against his seat again and closed his eyes.

***** Frank was working in his studio downstairs when he heard the car drive up. He had asked the housekeeper to come every day while Danny Verdi was here. She would take care of him until dinner. As Frank studied the latest photos he had taken for Verde Di Naura

Magazine, he decided he wasn’t happy with them. There was a problem with the aperture setting, and the lens size was wrong. He would scrap those and redo them. He had a few months before the project was due. He’d put them aside while Verdi was here. He closed the door to his studio and went back to work.

*****

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Danny got out of the car wearing a pair of soft brown leather pants and a cable-knit dusky blue sweater. He was overdressed, and was feeling hot and grungy. He longed to take a bath. When he looked around him, he let out a soft whistle. The house was surrounded by foliage. Some of the leaves on the trees were beginning to change to gold and red. The charming little bungalow in front of him was old, made of grey stone and covered with vines. Danny followed the driver to the door. “Where is this Melina guy anyway? Doesn’t he believe in greeting his guests, or does he only come out after dark?” “Signore Melina said to bring your bags to your room, that he would see you at dinner around eight. The housekeeper, Anna, will take care of you.” “Right,” Danny muttered, stepping inside. The foyer was a fair size. The ceilings were high with chestnut wooden beams. The floors were terracotta and looked as if they’d just been washed. It was amazingly simple, furnished tastefully, but without excess. There were plants and photographs of nature everywhere. They walked through the kitchen, everything stainless and wood. There was a dining room off to the side and three bedrooms all lined up towards the back, with a door leading down into the basement. The driver opened the last door on the left. “Your room, Signore,” he said, putting his bags inside. “I will tell Anna you’re here.” The room was beautifully decorated with a four poster bed, huge picture window, and complete bathroom. Danny fell on the bed and gave a yelp. He loved the isolation, the colors. When a rotund Italian woman in an apron knocked lightly on the door frame, Danny sat up. “Signore Verdi, I’m Anna. Can I bring you anything?” “No, thanks. I’m fine.” “Very well, dinner is at eight o’clock, in the dining room.” “Thanks ... ah, grazie,” he said.


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She smiled and left the room. He got up and stripped off his clothes. He ran some water in the tub. There were all kinds of bubble baths and oils in the bathroom. He poured in a variety and soaked, closing his eyes, almost falling asleep. He must have dosed, because when he opened his eyes again, it was almost eight o’clock. He climbed out of the tub, putting on sweatpants and a T-shirt. When he walked out of the room, he saw that woman, Anna, again. She was standing over the stove in the kitchen. She nodded at him. “Good evening, Mr. Verdi.” He nodded back, walking into the dining room. There was a man standing in the room with his back turned. He was looking out the window. He was tall, well over six feet. His body, clad in a tailored pair of cream-colored linen pants and a silk olive-green shirt, made a perfect V from the broad shoulders to the narrow hips. He was built like a god. He had a great ass, your dream version bubble butt that Danny would have given his eyeteeth for. Long, glossy black hair hung down past his shoulders. This couldn’t be Frank Melina. “Hello,” Danny said. “Is Frank Melina around?” The man turned. He saw the left side first. Beautiful -- stunning, actually -- and Danny rarely thought anyone beautiful, except himself. Big black eyes, sensual mouth, high cheekbones ... then he saw the other half. He let out a gasp. “Jesus Christ,” Danny said, putting a hand to his chest. The guy’s mouth twisted a little. “Danny Verdi. Pleased to meet you. I’m Frank Melina.” His voice was deep, attractive, and very male. He had the faintest Italian accent. “Yeah. Well, hello. I’m Danny ... ah ...” Danny looked down at his feet. “Please, sit,” Frank offered, taking a seat himself. “We were just waiting for you to come to dinner.” “I fell asleep in the tub.” Danny laughed uneasily.

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“Ah, I see. Well,” Frank announced, taking his napkin and placing it on his lap, “let’s get this uncomfortable feeling you have out of the way right now. It will be difficult for us to work otherwise. Look at me, Danny. Get it out of your system. Then it won’t bother you so much.” Danny bit his lip, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry ... I just never have seen anything like it ... that’s all.” “No, you wouldn’t. You work around the beautiful people. Freaks of nature need not apply.” Danny met his eyes for a minute. “I didn’t say ... I mean ... I know what happened to you. I ...” “Do you?” he asked softly, lifting an eyebrow. “I would be most interested in your rendition.” Danny moved around in his chair, as Frank called for the food. “I should have dressed for dinner,” he said, for a change of subject. “Don’t worry about it,” Frank said as Anna was serving the food. Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and asparagus, very American. Danny ate a few bites of chicken and the asparagus. He passed on the chocolate cake, although it looked delicious. They ate almost in relative silence. Frank didn’t comment on his lack of appetite. He knew how these models were. After dinner, Danny moved around the room, looking at the photographs on the wall. Nature photos really. “Your work?” Danny asked as Frank drank his wine, watching him. “Yes, do you like them?” “They’re nice but ... ah ... detached.” “Interesting observation. Detached how?” “It’s like you’re in a separate world when you take the pictures.” Frank smiled, but said nothing.


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Danny turned around and looked at him. “I acted like an ass earlier. It wasn’t very nice of me. I’m sorry.” Frank stood up. “I took no offense. Have you adjusted now?” Danny nodded. “I’ll get used to it. It’s okay. So, mind if I ask you what did happen? People say some guy went nuts, locked you in a darkroom, then blew his brains out. That true?” Frank winced. “More or less.” Danny shrugged. “I read your bio in a magazine before I came out here ... asked one of my assistants to find one. You were pretty famous. Came from a well-off family, studied at Harvard. Have a graduate degree in fine arts. You began your career as a model. Funny, my assistant couldn’t find any pictures of you from your modeling days, or after that. Is there a reason?” “I used a different name when I was modeling, and my career was pretty short.” “Ah, that explains it.” “Looks like you did your homework. Before we begin tomorrow, is there anything else you’d like to know or something you’d like to say?” Frank met his gaze again. The way Frank was looking at him unnerved him, as if the man had him all figured out somehow. Danny hesitated a minute, then said abruptly, “Don’t think that there will be anything between us apart from work. I just want to make that clear. I don’t intend to blow you or anything.” He broke off. Frank took a step towards him. He cleared his throat. “You need not worry about that.” “Didn’t mean to be so blunt, but these things are better out in the open, don’t you think?” Danny asked, shifting from one foot to the other. “Of course. I would have never imagined that someone like you could have even the slightest sexual interest in someone like me. You have nothing to worry about in that respect.”

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Danny smiled. “I’m used to all kinds of ... well ... you wouldn’t believe the men who come on to me, and what’s incredible is that they believe I would give them more than a second look.” Frank tilted his head. “The arrogance,” he mocked. “Of course, you can’t blame the poor bastards for dreaming, can you?” Danny blinked at him. “No ... I suppose not. You know, sometimes I’m not sure how to take you. I get the impression that you’re insulting me. Or are you merely indulging me?” Frank smiled. “I guess that’s for you to decide. I wonder, though, what kind of man you would give a second look to.” “Are you asking me my type?” Danny lifted an eyebrow, reaching for his wine glass. “Maybe,” Frank replied, sitting back down. “Well, he’d have to be together, have money, like to party, drive a nice car, and be beautiful. And know how to make love. God, how I long for a lover who knows how to make love.” Frank nodded. “What about respect, trust, loyalty? What about love?” Danny took a sip of his wine. “Unimportant. Sex, money, and good looks. I like a man who can turn heads when he walks into a room.”

Frank laughed slightly. It was ironic, really. If Danny had known him a few years ago, he would have been exactly Danny’s type. He had had all that and more, and he knew that the using went both ways. Danny drained his glass and grinned wickedly at him. “I have no head for wine and this is great stuff. You know your wine. You better hide it unless you’re trying to get me sloshed and take advantage of me.”


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Frank ignored the remark. “You have jet lag; it’s exaggerating the effects of the wine. I assure you, I have no ulterior motive. I would suggest you slow down on the wine and perhaps go to bed. We’ll start early tomorrow.” Danny shook his head. “I look like shit in the morning. I don’t work until at least eleven.” “Really?” Frank stood up. “Well, I guess you’ll have to learn some new habits. I like to get to work early. I’ll knock on your door at eight. Shower and have some breakfast and meet me downstairs in my studio at nine. A makeup artist will be here then. We’ll do some preliminary shots indoors tomorrow.” Danny opened his mouth, but before he could protest, Frank had left the room. When Danny finally fell asleep that night, he slept deeply, probably from a combination of jet lag and the wine. When he heard the knock on his door the next morning, he was already awake. He couldn’t remember sleeping so well before. “I’m up. I’m going to take a shower.” Footsteps moved away from his door. He took a shower, got into some shorts and a Tshirt, and went into the dining room. Food was laid out for him. He took some coffee and a couple of spoonfuls of cereal and then walked down the hall past the rooms leading to downstairs. The first room he came to was an exercise room filled with a treadmill, weights, and one of those ski machines that he really liked. In the corner was a small spa. Next door was a fully equipped studio. Frank was adjusting some lights when he entered. There was another man with him, middle-aged, hyper. “Danny ... Danny Verdi ... I big fan,” he gushed in broken English. “I Sergio ... doing makeup ... so happy when Frankie asked me to do this. How you like our Italy?” Danny gave him a cool look. “I haven’t seen much of it yet. I hope you only use the hypoallergenic stuff. I break out otherwise.”

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“All good stuff ... so beautiful.” Sergio touched his hair. “Sit.” There was a vanity set up, with a chair in front of it. Danny glanced over at Frank, who hadn’t so much as turned around and acknowledged him since Danny had come into the room. He wasn’t used to men not paying attention to him. “Hey, Master Melina,” he mocked. “Don’t you say good morning, or is that not allowed?” Frank turned his head around. Danny saw only the good side of his face. He caught his breath. “Hello. Ready for work?” “As soon as this Sergio guy finishes putting all this junk on me. I didn’t know what to wear so ...” “The wardrobe should arrive sometime today, but I don’t care what you wear this morning. I want to get some preliminary shots,” Frank said, preoccupied with electrical sockets. “Why?” Danny asked. “So I can get the feel of you. I need to relate to you through the camera. It takes time to do that. We should be able to accomplish that this week. I’ll take you outside this afternoon.” Sergio stood back now, admiring his work. “Wonderful. You are work of art.” He kissed his fingers. Danny nodded. “I know that,” he whispered. “Sergio, it’s okay now,” Frank said. “You can leave us. I’ll call you.” Danny stood up as Frank walked around to the center of the room with his camera in his hand. “Come over here.” Danny walked to the spot he pointed at. “How do you want me posed?” “I don’t want you to pose at all,” Frank said, lifting the camera to his eye. He was dressed in jeans today and a navy T-shirt. Danny couldn’t help but notice the way the T-shirt


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stretched across his well-toned chest, or the impressive muscles that bulged in his biceps. He was hung, too. There was no mistaking that. There was a noticeable bulge in his jeans. His stomach was flat, his hips and waist slim. The muscles in his thighs were firm. He spent a lot of time on that exercise equipment. Frank clicked the camera a few times, going down to his haunches, swinging back up. He moved like an athlete, his long black hair falling to one side of his broad shoulders. If it wasn’t for one half of his face, he’d be hot, really hot ... too damn hot. The camera stopped clicking. Frank lowered it. “What are you thinking about?” Danny’s eyes widened. “What?” “What are you thinking about?” “Why?” Danny blushed a bit. “You have this perplexed look on your face. Relax the muscles of your face. And ...” He clicked his tongue and came walking over to him. “... you have too much damn makeup on. You look like a ...” He paused, then reached up with his hand and began to remove some of the makeup with his fingers. “There, that’s better.” Danny made a face. “So, what am I suppose to think about?” “Think of a time when you’ve felt truly relaxed, and concentrate on that.” “I rarely feel truly relaxed.” “That’s not good.” “Unless I’m ready to pass out,” Danny replied with a laugh. “Okay, I’ll think about being in the bathtub yesterday after I got here. I felt relaxed then.” “Good,” Frank said, taking some more shots. “That’s better. Now, think about things that give you pleasure.” Frank moved around, shooting some more. “Pleasure ... okay ...” Danny mused. “Something recent, something fresh in your mind.”

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That was a tough one. He couldn’t remember experiencing much pleasure lately. He’d had a wicked fight with Yerik, come close to blowing his entire career by backing out of his contract with Taboo. Regent was about to sign that Monty kid, who would eventually displace him. Not to mention Elizabeth, who was constantly on his back for money. “Can’t think of a thing,” he said. Frank stopped shooting and looked at him. “Take a break, then. There’s coffee and some fresh pastries upstairs.” “Pastry,” Danny groaned. “I’ll blow up like a balloon.” “Then have a coffee. I’ll be up in a bit to have lunch. I want to get these developed right away, take a look. We’ll go out this afternoon for a walk.” “All right,” Danny said, heading upstairs. He poured himself some coffee and walked away from the pastries, which were gooey and running with frosting. They smelled wonderful. He sat in the living room, sipping the delicious brew, and looked around the room some more. He liked this room. It was comfortable, very warm and masculine. He got up and walked over to the bookshelf. There were books on photography and philosophy. He picked up one called The History of Art and Light and read the jacket cover. There were a lot of books on fashion photography, and some on nature. Then he picked out what looked like a photo album. He opened it to the first page. There he was, Frank Melina. “New York Gala opening at Saks, Autumn 1998.” He was dressed in a black tux, white ruffled shirt. His hair was long and hanging over his shoulders. He was smiling. Danny touched his face with his fingers. “My God, but you were a beautiful man,” he whispered. He turned the page. There were more pictures. He recognized the people Frank was standing with. They were all important big shots in the fashion world. At the back were a series of newspaper articles. One headline read: “Frank Melina Stalker Takes Own Life after Failed Murder Attempt.” Danny read on. Acclaimed photographer Frank Melina suffered severe burns to his face after

being splashed with flammable chemicals when a love struck stalker locked him in his darkroom. Firefighters were called to the scene after a fire was reported in Melina’s


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downtown studio apartment at ten o’clock last evening. Melina managed to escape from the fire before the trucks arrived. The perpetrator, Cory Peterson, 27, a former employee, was discovered at the scene. He died from a self-inflicted bullet wound in the head. A suicide note was found on the body. Melina, 24, is in hospital in critical condition..” Danny turned the page. Another headline read, “Tragic Story of Disturbed Young Man

in Fashion World.” This was all about Peterson’s life. He saw a picture of a handsome, young blond man with a big smile. Danny shivered. He turned some more pages. There were more pictures of Frank on boats and at parties, with all the best people. Then there were articles praising his work, speaking of awards, tributes. Finally, the last page contained an article with the headline, “Fashion World Loses Industry’s Best Man Behind a Camera. Frank

Melina Leaves New York.” He closed the album. “Find what you were looking for?” a deep voice asked from behind him. Danny jumped. The album fell to the floor, opening at the front page. “I’m sorry ... I didn’t mean ... I was looking at your books and ...” Frank came over to where Danny stood and picked up the album. He put it back in its place. Danny looked at him in awe. “What? Can’t believe that was me?” “No. I mean ... yes ... I know it’s you ... it’s just ...” He was at a loss for words. “Would you have given him a second look, Danny?” Frank asked suddenly. “I ... well, I ...” “It’s all right. You don’t have to answer. Come and eat.” He walked to the kitchen. “There are some things laid out for lunch. Help yourself.” Danny shook his head. “I’ll just have an apple maybe.”

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Frank shrugged and began to make a sandwich. There were slices of cold chicken, three different kinds of cheeses, and warm Italian bread fresh from the oven. Danny looked longingly at the bread, then grabbed one of the shiny red apples and walked out of the kitchen. He reached into his pocket and popped some Ritalin. He’d be all right. A half-hour later, they were outside in the sun. They walked through a beautiful path and down to some lake. Danny noticed that Frank hadn’t brought his camera. “It’s beautiful, the lake. The driver who brought me told me that this lake feeds all the fountains in Rome. Is that true?” “Yes. Have you ever been to Rome, Danny?” “No. I hope I’ll have the chance to go while I’m here.” “Oh, you will. You take the train from here. It’s not a long ride.” They started to walk again. The wind moved softly among the trees, causing the leaves to try and hold on tightly to the branches. They did this routine every day for almost a week. Danny actually looked forward to it. A few times, Frank brought the camera and took some pictures. Then they’d walk, their boots crunching on the leaves. Danny found himself looking forward to his daily walks with Frank. On this particular warm and sunny day, Danny felt quite light hearted and carefree. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to. He walked out ahead a little bit, pointing to this and that. He had begun to ask questions about everything, the trees, the animals. This day he spotted a fox and he couldn’t stop talking about it. Frank watched him, thinking that maybe he was getting to see what really lay inside. It was essential, if he was going to photograph him. When Danny’s guard was down, he was different. He was actually pleasant to be around, looking around himself with wonder, sincerely enjoying the day.


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“It’s beautiful,” Danny said, stopping and looking up at Frank, who stood now gazing out over the water. “Yes. Serene.” “What’s it like living here ... all alone?” Danny asked him suddenly. “You really want to know?” Frank replied, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, I do. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” “I know that,” he said, starting to walk again. “How long have you lived here, since the ... ah ... accident?” “Five years now.” “Sometimes I feel like I could stay here forever, and other times ...” Danny paused. “... well, I think I’d get so lonely, I’d die.” “When I first came here,” Frank said, bending down to pick up a stone and skipping it into the water, “this was my haven ... my refuge. Now, I don’t know anymore. Lately, it feels like a tomb.” Danny picked up a stone. “I understand that, I think.” He paused, then he said, “Can you show me how to do that?” “Do what?” “Skip the stone like that.” Danny looked off into the water. “It’s easy. It’s all in the wrist.” He took the stone and showed him his wrist. “Just up and out like that.” Danny tried a few times, laughing. “I can’t do it like you.” Frank grinned. “Takes practice. Maybe I have more practice with the wrist than you do.” Danny looked at him in surprise, noticing the look of teasing in his eyes. “Funny guy.” “I try. I’m out of practice.”

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They walked back to the house and had a late supper. Danny ate a bit more than he should have. They sat opposite each other, drinking coffee. “You don’t have a television here.” “No. I never cared for television ... too many other things to do in life.” Danny nodded. “You’re right. So, tell me about you, when you were living in New York. Do you miss it?” Frank shook his head. “No.” “But from what I hear, you were the top of the heap. I mean, you had the world by the tail, didn’t you?” Frank watched Danny drink his coffee. “Umm. Thought so at one time, but none of it was real.” “What do you mean? What’s real?” Danny shrugged. “It’s in the eye of the beholder, isn’t it? Like beauty.” Danny nodded solemnly. “I don’t know. Beauty is ... I mean, you know when something is beautiful, don’t you? You should. You were in the thick of defining what was beautiful, weren’t you?” Frank sighed. “Do you know how many beautiful men, really beautiful men there are that advertisers won’t touch because they are over twenty-five? You’re on top now, but where will you be in a couple of years?” Danny’s face paled. “Are you trying to scare me?” Frank shook his head. “No. I’m trying to show you how artificial and fragile that world is you live in. No one really wants to be with you because of who you are inside. They only want to be with you because you are who you are in the fashion world. Do you know how many men I had falling at my feet back then?” “No, but I bet there were a lot. Based on that photo I saw.”


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“It wasn’t the way I looked. All right, that helped; I won’t deny it. But it was because I was in the position to make or break careers. All these young, beautiful men wanted to sleep with me because they wanted to be photographed by me. To have your picture taken by me was a one-way ticket to a high-priced career. Do you think any of those men loved me? Do you see the line outside my door now?” Danny licked his lips. “What about the Peterson guy?” Frank got up and poured himself a drink. “Cory was a nice enough guy. The media all said he was crazy ... a stalker. But, Danny ...” Frank turned now and took a sip out of his cup. “... he wanted nothing from me except my attention, my affection. I used him and threw him away. I didn’t even remember the night he spent in my bed. And yet that night was so important to him that it caused him to take his life. He loved me. I couldn’t have recognized love if it had sat up and bit me.” Danny saw the passion in his eyes, the intensity of emotion. It touched him deeply. “Are you trying to say that we in this world are ...” Danny laughed slightly. “... shallow?” It wasn’t a question, so Frank didn’t bother answering it. “Look, Frank, I never had anything growing up. We were poor. The only thing I had was my looks. My mother could have been someone, but ...” “But what?” “I was born,” he said, shrugging. “I ruined her modeling career.” “That wasn’t your fault.” “Well, according to her, it was. She decided to give birth to me; she sacrificed her career. She devoted herself to me. I know I’m a high-paid respectable prostitute. I know I sleep around and take pleasure when I find it; and deep down, I know one day it’s going to be over. I even know who is going to take my place eventually. But I don’t want to think about that now, okay?”

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Frank nodded. “Whatever you want, Danny. Why don’t you go to bed? Tomorrow, we’ll start working with the Taboo fashions.” Danny nodded. He left the table and went to his room. He knew Frank would stay there, finishing his coffee, deep in thought.


Chapter Four

That Friday, after Danny tried on all the clothes and a tailor came back to make the necessary adjustments, he announced to Frank that he was going to go to Rome for the weekend. “You won’t need me this weekend, will you? While I’m here, I might as well see Rome.” “Sure. Go ahead. I’m surprised you never came here on a shoot.” Danny shook his head. “If I did, I don’t remember.” His head was pounding today. Trying and retrying on all those damn clothes had been exhausting. “The light isn’t right to do any shooting outside anyway. They’re announcing sun all weekend.” “And that’s a bad thing?” Danny laughed, sitting down at the table for dinner. “For outside shoots, yes. I’m waiting for an overcast day, which is promised on Monday, according to the weather report. I could use a reflector to fill the shadows, but that’s tricky sometimes. I’d rather not. I prefer to shoot on an overcast day, using a higher speed film and a larger aperture lens.” “If you say so.” Danny shook his head. “It’s all Greek to me.”

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Anna brought in fresh salad and plates of lasagna. Danny decided not to even attempt the lasagna. It looked delicious, and if he took one bite, he’d want more. He stuck to the salad.

Frank watched him casually as he took a bite of the lasagna. “You should try it,” he said. “Anna will be hurt if you don’t.” “Too many calories,” Danny replied, patting his stomach. Frank noticed how pale Danny looked. He was actually under the weight requirements for a model of his height. He was five-ten or so, and couldn’t have weighed more than one hundred and thirty-five pounds. “Why are you panicked, Danny? You’re going for long walks every day; you’ve spent at least an hour on my treadmill every evening since you’ve been here, except for the first night. There is a point where you can become too thin, you know ... and your hair and skin, it requires nourishment.” “Don’t tell me how to take care of myself,” Danny snapped. “That was Yerik’s problem. He was always bossing me around. He thought he was my father. I know what I’m doing ... and I’m not panicked about anything.” Frank shrugged. “Fine, but all the Ritalin you’ve been taking is --” “Ritalin.” Danny flushed. “I’m not taking ...” “Danny, you forget I’ve been around models. I know what drugs they take to keep slim. I’ve had them pass out on me during shoots. It’s the reason you have headaches and problems sleeping.” “You should mind your own goddamned business, Melina,” Danny retorted angrily. “If I were you, I’d be more concerned about that monster face of yours and how to cover it up so you don’t frighten small children and --” He stopped, suddenly aware of the words coming out of his mouth. “Frank,” he began. “I’m sorry ... I ...” Frank didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.


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“I got angry ... Sometimes I ...” “Shut up, Danny,” Frank told him, scraping back his chair. Without another word, he left the dining room.

***** In Rome, Danny did all the regular things tourists did. He went to see the Trevi Fountain and the Spanish Steps. At the end of the day, he asked the guide about the gay district. The guide gave him directions to where the gay bars were located. He was surprised that area wasn’t more populated with tourists. In fact, it was rather quiet, with a mix of residential and commercial buildings. His hotel was nice, clean, friendly, and his room looked out onto the Coliseum. He was informed at the front desk that all the bars got started very late, so he hung out in his room until almost one o’clock. He was surprised at how down he felt as he walked the graffiti-peppered streets toward the bars. How could he have said what he had about Frank’s face? Frank had been nothing but kind to him. In fact, he had enjoyed their walks in the woods, and their conversation. No one had ever noticed about the Ritalin before, not even Yerik. As he walked a little faster, he began to feel a little lightheaded. He had eaten a slice of pizza for lunch and so had decided to skip supper. He had been walking around all day. His stomach was hurting him. He’d have a drink at the bar. That would be enough calories to sustain him until tomorrow. Then, maybe he’d splurge and have a real breakfast. The first bar he came to was called Bisbigli. It meant whispers. It was a small place with a packed dance floor, filled with sweaty, shirtless men ... just what he needed. Danny had one beer, then another. A few men came over and began to touch him. They were touchy here, but that was all right. He had another drink ... maybe two ... and he didn’t mind so much. One young Italian with a great torso spoke English. “You’re Danny Verdi,” he said, stroking Danny’s hair. “Beautiful. I see your picture.”

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Danny smiled through his drunken haze. “Really? And when you see my picture ...” Danny ran a finger down the man’s chest. “... what do you do?” “Ah ...” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I have wild thoughts.” “Would you like to take me home?” Danny asked, falling against him. “Do you mind,” the Italian asked, glancing at the two men standing behind him, “if I bring my friends?” Danny shook his head, leaning against him. “Bring whoever you want ... as long as you fuck me,” he said, smiling up at him. There was some laughter: someone said something in Italian.

***** When he awoke, the belt that had held his hands last night was gone. He sat up, wincing. His ass was on fire. He glanced down between his legs to see his sheets stained with cum and blood. Panicking, he stood up and went into the bathroom. He wiped at himself. There was a bit of dried blood on the toilet paper, but he wasn’t bleeding anymore. He sighed with relief. Then it dawned on him -- he really didn’t know what happened last night. Did he fuck? Did they use protection? Damn. He searched the room for used condoms. He didn’t find any. He went back into the bathroom and began to heave. He threw up in the toilet. There was a bit of blood in the vomit. He ran a hand through his hair. His eyes went to the telephone. He searched the pocket of his jeans that were in a heap by the bed, and took out Frank’s phone number. He had brought it along, just in case he got lost. He dialed. Frank picked up on the second ring. “Buongiorno,” he said. “Frank ... Danny ...” He was hyperventilating. “Danny. What’s wrong?” “Can you come and ...” Tears stung his eyes. “Damn it ... I ...” “What? Where are you?”


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“At the Via Capo Hotel. Do you know it?” “Yes.” “Can you ... Frank ... I think I ...” He started to cry. “Come and get me, please.” “I’ll be there in about an hour,” Frank said, hanging up. When the knock sounded on the door less than an hour later, Danny got up from where he was lying naked on the bed, and opened the door. “Frank,” he said and fell into his arms. Frank came in and closed the door, half carrying Danny to the bed, suddenly very aware of his state of undress. Gently he laid him down. “What happened? Are you all right?” He reached for the hotel robe that was lying over the chair and threw it at him. Tears streamed down Danny’s face as he shrugged into the robe. “Frank, I ... I was with some guys last night and ... when I woke up ... there was blood. I’m scared.” “Are you bleeding now?” Frank insisted. Danny shook his head. “I don’t think so ... but I vomited some earlier. I don’t feel well.” “You need a doctor,” Frank said, moving to the phone. “No,” Danny said, reaching over and grabbing his forearm. “Please, I’m well known. I can’t have the press getting hold of this. Even that creep last night knew me. I’ll be all right. I just feel so weak and ... that’s not the worst of it.” Frank put down the phone. “What’s the worst of it?” “I couldn’t find any used condoms this morning.” Frank sighed. Danny bit his lip. “It’s not like they’d take them with them. I don’t know if any of them had intercourse with me. I was tied down. I passed out and --” “Okay, okay, slow down. Where did the blood come from?” “Fisting ... I think.” Danny lowered his head.

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“Jesus!” Frank took a breath. “Had you ever done that sort of thing before?” “Not an entire fist. I don’t remember it at all. I passed out. But I saw the guy preparing ... you know ...” Frank nodded. “You should see a doctor, and Danny, you need to have an AIDS test.” His eyes filled again. “No doctor. I’ll take the test, though, but not today, and it will have to be discreet.” Frank shook his head. “No sense having one yet. It takes between three and six months for anything to show up. You’re probably fine. Arrange one when you get back in New York, just to be sure. Now, let me have a look,” Frank said, meeting his eyes. “Look? What do you mean ... have a look?” “Let me see if they did any damage. Roll over.” Danny colored, then rolled over on his stomach. He felt Frank’s hand lift the robe and then part his buttocks. “There doesn’t seem to be any tearing externally, but I don’t know about inside.” Danny closed his eyes. Frank’s hand was so gentle. He licked his lips, almost wishing for a second that Frank would put his tongue there. Frank allowed his hand to trail along one of Danny’s butt cheeks before telling him to roll back over. “I have something for it at home. If there is any more bleeding, promise me you’ll see a doctor. How much did you drink last night?” “A lot, I think.” “Did you eat yesterday?” “Not since lunch.” Frank sighed again. “The blood in the vomit is probably because you irritated the lining of your stomach. Lay off the Ritalin for awhile.” Danny nodded. “All right. Now, can we get out of this place?”


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“Sure. Get dressed. I’ll wait outside.” As soon as they got back home, Frank went to the medicine cabinet and handed Danny a small bottle. “What is it?” Danny asked, removing the cover and sniffing it. “A local remedy. Put it on your finger and rub it in: go deep inside, as well.” Danny blushed some, looking away. Frank didn’t pay any attention. “Now come on, I’m going to get you something to eat. Anna is gone for the weekend, so we’ll have to fend for ourselves today and tomorrow.” “I don’t want anything ...” Danny began. Frank gave him a severe look. “You won’t put on an ounce, trust me. But you have to eat. Now, go sit down in the dining room and I’ll make us something. I’m hungry as well.” Danny didn’t argue. Frank looked fierce. Danny smiled when Frank finally came out with a tray. He set a plate down in front of Danny with an egg-white mushroom omelet, two slices of lightly buttered whole-wheat toast, and a cup of tea. Frank had the same. It was delicious. Danny ate every last bite. “Thanks. My stomach feels better, and the headache’s gone.” “Give me the Ritalin,” Frank said. “Come on, Frank, I won’t take any.” Frank held out his hand. Danny sighed. Then with a smirk, he took the small bottle from his pocket and placed it in Frank’s hand. “There you go, Dad.” They took a short walk later, and then Danny went to lie down. He slept soundly, feeling -- for the first time in his life -- secure. Monday morning came, and Danny couldn’t work. He sat in the living room, looking out the window ... wondering if he had AIDS. Frank spent some time working in his studio downstairs, then came up and sat with him. “Danny, it will be all right. The test is just a precaution. Don’t worry about it now.”

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Danny nodded. When the phone rang, they both jumped. Frank put up a hand and told him he would answer it. After a second, he brought the phone to Danny and said, “It’s for you ... a woman.” Danny narrowed his eyes and took the phone. “Danny, it’s your mother,” the voice said. “Elizabeth,” Danny said coldly. He was in no mood for her bullshit right now. “What do you want?” “Edward gave me the number. You leave for Italy without even telling me! Don’t you think Mother would have liked to come along?” “I couldn’t bring you, Elizabeth,” Danny said. “This is business. I’m working.” “Yes, with the greatest photographer of all time. When I was in the business, it was Spencer Tait, I believe. My God, everyone who was anyone wanted him to take their picture. So, what does he look like? Is it horrifying, dear? Can’t they do something? He was a handsome one ... at one time. I’ve seen his picture. You know that fellow shot his brains out and --” “Elizabeth!” Danny said between clenched teeth. “I have to go. I’m wanted in the studio.” “I need some money, Danny; I have bills to pay. You owe me. I gave up everything for you. I --” “How much?” Danny sighed, aware that Frank was watching him. “Ten thousand.” “I will wire you five. That’s it. When I get paid from this contract, I’ll send you more. Goodbye,” he said and hung up. He handed Frank back the phone. “Are you all right?” Frank asked. “Why wouldn’t I be?”


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“You’re tense.” “It’s my mother; she could rile a monk,” he sneered. “Why do you put up with her?” “Because I ...” he began. “My mother gave up everything for me. I told you that already. I owe her.” “So when do you stop paying?” Danny paused, meeting Frank’s eyes. Then he looked away. A few minutes later, Frank convinced him to take a walk. “Come on. The fresh air will do you good.” Danny agreed. “I want to thank you,” he said as they walked outside, “for coming to my rescue in that hotel room yesterday.” Tears came now. “I felt so alone and scared when I woke up. I ...” Frank drew him into his arms and held him for a minute. He kissed the top of Danny’s head and then released him. “You’re not alone, Danny,” he said. They returned from their walk. Danny was calmer. “I feel better now.” “Great,” Frank replied. “Now, we can concentrate on work.”

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Chapter Five

As the days flew by, they worked their way through the wardrobe. Frank shot rolls and rolls of film with so many cameras and contraptions, Danny could hardly keep track. They still walked together. Each night, they talked about nonsense things, and laughed. Frank didn’t mention what had happened in Rome again, and Danny was grateful for that. They didn’t talk about the past either, or the fashion world. Frank showed him his nature photos in magazines, and Danny was genuinely impressed. He was beginning to sleep better at night, and although he still had headaches once in awhile, he felt better. He ate moderately and regularly. When he would panic, Frank would calm his fears by telling him Anna was cooking low fat now. It was during his third week with Frank that Danny woke up in the middle of the night to a violent thunderstorm. He was terrified of thunder. He had been since he was a small boy. He ran out of bed and down the hall, frantically calling out Frank’s name. He opened the door to his room, and stood there in the entrance, his heart racing. “Frank,” he said, “I’m really scared of thunder.” Frank opened his eyes and sat up. “What? What is it, Danny?”


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Danny walked over and climbed into bed beside him. “Can I just stay here until it’s over? I’m terrified of thunderstorms. I don’t want to be alone.” “Sure,” Frank said, his voice sleepy. “Lie down. It will pass.” Danny moved closer to him. He felt Frank’s arm slip around his shoulders and pull him closer. “If you count right after the lightning, you’ll notice that the thunder gets further away. It means the storm is leaving,” Frank told him. Danny felt his heartbeat slow; his pulses quiet. They counted together a couple of times. Danny felt better. In fact, he felt calm, and secure. Frank had that effect on him somehow. “You’re right. It’s leaving,” he whispered. “God, I feel so safe here with you, like nothing could ever happen.” There was a pause. “Don’t be so sure,” Frank murmured, his voice full of emotion. Except for their underwear, they were both naked. Danny’s cheek lay against his chest. Danny raised his head. “What ... do ... do you mean?” “Are you that sure that lying here with me like this is safe, Danny? Do I appear to be that asexual?” Danny stiffened. “I’m sorry. I’ve hurt your feelings somehow and I ... I didn’t mean to. I just meant that ...” “I know what you meant. I’m sorry.” Frank sat up and moved away. He reached over and turned on the light. “I think the storm is passing now.” Danny sat straight up and looked at him. “You have an incredible body, you know that?” he said, reaching over to touch him. Frank closed his eyes. “Don’t, Danny, please,” he whispered. Danny moved his lips against Frank’s neck.

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Frank resisted for a few seconds, but then Danny moved his mouth against his and Frank pulled him into his arms with a moan. Their kiss deepened, their tongues doing a furious dance. Danny felt strong hands move over him, pushing down his underwear, wrapping a fist around his sex. Frank released his mouth, moving his lips downwards as he pushed Danny back against the pillows. Frank’s lips encircled one of Danny’s nipples, his tongue dipping out to taste it as his other hand began to fondle his testicles. Danny arched his back, feeling Frank’s silky hair run down the length of him, as his mouth continued its journey. A tongue trailed around the circumference of his cockhead, a finger gently moving under his testicles and in between his buttocks. Lips inched over his cock, drawing part of it into his mouth. Danny moaned as Frank’s finger pushed up inside of him, then out again, then in, as Frank drew Danny’s cock all the way into his mouth. One of Danny’s hands grabbed onto the blanket; the other curled in Frank’s soft, dark hair. Frank had positioned himself between Danny’s thighs now, his mouth and finger making the same rhythmic movements. Danny’s cock went into spasms. “Frank,” he groaned as Frank drew back, smiling at him. Danny raised himself up, pressing his lips to Frank’s gorgeous chest, running his hands over his nipples, then tonguing them, as his hand reached down to fondle Frank’s thick, hard cock. He took a moment to look down at it as he reached under to fondle his beautiful testicles. “You’re perfect,” Danny breathed, leaning down to press his lips to his sex. “You have the most perfect cock ... so hard ... so big ... thick ... I’ve dreamt about cocks like that,” he murmured, running his tongue along the length of his scrotum. He took it into his mouth now, his jaws aching as he opened wider to accept it all. It tasted delicious. He was delicious. Danny moved his lips and tongue around Frank’s cock, gripping it at the base so that he could slide his mouth up and down. He closed his eyes, savoring it, so thick, so hard ... the thought of having that inside of him was driving him crazy. He withdrew his mouth. He smacked his lips, and looked up into those big dark eyes, “Fuck me,” he said. “Fuck me now.”


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He felt Frank lift him up, taking his mouth again, kissing him deeply, running his hands over his arms, his back. Danny wrapped himself around him, his body so warm, so hard. Kissing his neck, Frank turned him around on the bed, pulling him back into his arms on his knees. Danny let his head go back, savoring the way Frank’s hands moved over his flesh, down his stomach, across his sex, feeling his hard cock grazing his lower back. “Baby,” Danny groaned. Frank’s lips were on Danny’s throat, his hands fondling Danny’s sex, his balls. Pressing him forward, Frank let his erection move over Danny’s buttocks, then part his ass cheeks; he leaned down and placed his tongue at Danny’s entrance. Slowly, he licked him, then flicked the tip of his tongue over the sensitive opening. Danny began to tremble. He groaned again. The pleasure gripping his body was almost too intense. “Frank, please,” he begged, his sphincter muscle tightening, then relaxing, throbbing. With his hand wrapped around Danny’s sex, Frank rolled a condom onto his erection and sank it deep within Danny’s ass. Danny cried out, gasping as he felt the length of Frank’s cock fill him like he’d never been filled before. Slowly, Frank began to fuck him, pulling out, pushing in, then faster until Danny’s teeth began to rattle. Danny plunged forward onto his palms, his eyes closing, his heartbeat hammering into his chest. The pleasure kept coming and coming as Frank’s cock raked in and out of him, one hand squeezing his cock, the other moving over his back and his shoulders. When he came, he couldn’t believe that it was his voice crying out and whimpering like that. But it was. He flattened out on his stomach, dropping with exhaustion, sweat running down his forehead and over his chest. Danny didn’t turn over for a minute. Not only didn’t he have the energy, he didn’t have the words. He couldn’t say anything to Frank which would convey the ecstasy he’d just felt in his arms. Maybe there were no words. So he slept.

***** Danny got up early to fix breakfast. It was the weekend and Anna was gone again. They ate breakfast without any mention of the night before. They worked well that day.

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Danny looked at Frank through the camera and remembered the night before. What an incredible lover he was. He knew he would have to have him again. There was no question of it. That night Danny couldn’t wait for bedtime. He didn’t bother going to his own room, he simply followed Frank into his. Frank turned and looked at him for a second, surprised. “Don’t say anything,” Danny whispered, kicking the door shut, and placing his fingers on the buttons of his shirt. “I want you.” He didn’t have to ask twice. Frank wrapped his arms around him and smothered Danny’s mouth with his. Danny couldn’t wait to get Frank’s clothes off, to run his hands over the well-defined muscles in his upper arms and shoulders, to run his tongue around the rounded curves which shaped his pectorals. He stood back for a minute, and admired him, urging Frank to take off his jeans. As Frank undid the zipper on his jeans, his hair fell forward, covering the scar on the left side of his cheek. He was perfect. Danny reached up to kiss his mouth, placing his hands on both sides of his cheeks. Frank froze when he felt Danny’s hands there. Danny released his mouth, but kept his hands where they were. For a moment, he allowed his fingers to trace the red bumpy skin. It felt tight, tough, almost like leather. Frank closed his eyes. “It’s okay,” Danny whispered, pressing his lips to it. “It’s part of you ... so it’s ... beautiful.” Tears lit Frank’s eyes, but he forced them back. Their eyes met for a minute, then Danny hastened Frank’s task by pushing his jeans down over his hips, then lowering himself to his knees. “You have the most beautiful cock. Do you know what it feels like inside me?” Frank could hardly speak. He caressed Danny’s hair, then closed his eyes as Danny ran his tongue over the length of his cock. “No,” he managed, “what does it feel like?” Danny looked up at him, his eyes soft. “It feels like Christmas and the Fourth of July, all wrapped up into one. No one has ever fucked me like that.” Frank swallowed. “It was quite easy, really.” He grinned, pulling Danny up into his arms. “Come, I’ll show you.”


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Danny let Frank lead him to the bed. Frank slowly took off Danny’s shirt, then his pants, leaning down to undo his running shoes. Pulling Danny naked onto the bed, Frank lowered him onto his back and looked down into his face. He kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids, as if he were something precious to be gently savored. Frank licked the flesh of his throat, his chest, paying special attention to the little brown nubs as he went, working his way down to Danny’s sex which was already fully erect and pulsating with desire. Frank took it in his hand and pressed his lips to the length of it, sucking on the flesh. Danny dug his fingers into Frank’s hair. Frank looked up for a moment, and smiled at him. He separated his thighs, pushing his knees up. Reaching over to the nightstand, he opened the drawer and took out a little bottle. When he opened it, Danny got a whiff of something that smelled like almonds or chocolate. With his finger, Frank began to rub the oil between Danny’s ass cheeks, brushing it across his opening. Danny’s cock lurched. Frank laughed softly. “Relax,” he said. Danny licked his lips as he felt Frank’s oiled finger move deep within him. The oil was warm and soothing, and it made him horny as hell. He thrashed some as Frank inserted a second, then a third oiled finger. “Jesus,” Danny groaned. When he withdrew his fingers, Danny sat up and grabbed him. He pulled Frank up and on top of him, running his hands over his back, massaging his buttocks. Frank looked deep into his eyes. “Do you want me, Danny?” “God, yes,” Danny urged, his cock near to exploding. Frank positioned Danny so that his legs were leaning on Frank’s shoulders. He moved closer, his cock teasing Danny’s oily opening. “Then say so ... say you want me ... and I’m yours.” “I want you, Frank,” he moaned, gently kissing his mouth. As they kissed, Frank moved his sex inside of him ... slowly ... deeper ... and deeper until Danny felt Frank’s balls pressed hard against his buttocks. Danny began to move. Frank stayed still, allowing Danny to set his

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own pace, then matched his movements, reaching down with his hand to stimulate Danny’s cock and testicles. “God ... yes ... yes ...” Danny said, allowing Frank to take over ... allowing him to slam into his body, until he was shaking with orgasm, coming ... coming ... shooting all over Frank’s chest and in his hair. Frank was laughing when he backed away, his own sex exploding into a soggy condom. Danny licked his lips, running a hand over his own chest, his sex. He moaned in satisfaction, reaching up to pull Frank down into his arms. “Beautiful,” he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Damn, you’re good at that.”

Frank kissed his cheek, then rolled off of him, trying to bring his pulse rate back to normal. “I don’t know how I’m going to live without sex like that,” Danny said, trying to get his breath. Frank wanted to tell him he didn’t have to, but ... instead he said nothing, willing himself to go to sleep. When he opened his eyes again, Danny was sleeping beside him. He propped himself up on an elbow and watched him for a moment. He looked much better now, his skin less pale, his eyes brighter. He had put on a few pounds, not hurting him a bit. With a grin, he got out of bed and went to the refrigerator. It was early yet, Anna wouldn’t arrive until eight. He took out strawberries and a can of whipped cream, and crept back to bed. Gingerly he took the cover down off of Danny’s naked body. He placed a strawberry at each nipple, one at his navel and two on his groin, then, he shook the can of whipped cream and let it rip. When Danny opened his eyes, Frank had one hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. His mouth had already eaten the strawberry near his right nipple and was in the


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process of licking off the cream. Danny laughed. “What are you are up to, Frank?” Frank wasn’t answering, he was too busy licking Danny’s nipple. Danny placed a hand in Frank’s hair. Frank reached up and gave Danny a whipped cream kiss. “Devil,” Danny teased. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” Frank replied, picking up the can again and shaking it. Pushing up Danny’s knees, he showered his groin and his buttocks with more whipped cream. Danny let out a yelp. “Frank ...!” He was laughing, trying to push Frank away as his mouth lapped up the cream. Then the laughing stopped as Frank’s mouth began to make his cock harden, and his nipples ache. He clutched onto him, urging him to take him ... to plunge that incredible cock of his deep inside him. Pulling Danny off the bed, Frank pushed him up against the wall, yanking his hands up over his head. Danny left his palms over his head on the wall, spreading his legs as Frank’s mouth still devoured the whipped cream around his cock, and balls and buttocks. Danny moaned, letting his forehead press against the wall. Frank’s hands gripped his hips, his lips finding that place on Danny’s neck that made him crazy. Hands slid over his chest, tweaking his nipples, pulling at them, rotating them with his fingers, then moved down to torment his throbbing sex. Danny moved his hips in and out, dry humping the wall. “Frank,” he begged. “Fuck me, baby. I’m so hot for you.” Frank gripped his hips again and then impaled his ass with his own aching erection. Danny’s stomach slammed against the wall as Frank rocked in and out of him, brutally pinching his nipples and biting down gently on his neck. They both cried out this time, almost at the same time. Danny’s cum rocketed against the wall. Frank’s cock pulsed with orgasm inside the condom. He yanked Danny around into his arms, and kissed his mouth.

Shit, was this love? If it was, it made him feel quite desperate ... a little off balance ... insane, maybe. He moaned as he kissed Danny deeply, holding his naked body in his arms, running his hands over his back, his buttocks. He didn’t want to let him go. He was afraid to let him go.

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***** Danny’s time with him was coming to an end. They had taken all the pictures they needed to take, most of which Frank was satisfied with. In those final days, they worked, ate, slept, and made love. There was no talk of what would happen when it came time for Danny to leave. Frank knew he was falling in love with him. He didn’t know how he was going to let him go. Although Danny hadn’t said the words, Frank felt it when he held him. He had to feel the same. He could go back to New York, leave this lonely place behind him. Hadn’t he suffered enough? Didn’t he deserve to be happy? They could be together there. The final night came. They stood together, toasting. The project was completed. “Frank,” Danny said, looking at some of the shots, “you are the best.” Danny clinked his glass with his. “I’ve never looked so good. You’re a bloody genius.” Frank smiled at him. “It’s you. You are just so beautiful, I ...” He paused and turned to him. He reached out to touch Danny’s cheek. Danny took a step backward. “Frank, I don’t think ... I mean ... it’s better that we end it here and now. I mean I’m going back to New York, things will get back to normal and ...” He sipped his champagne. “We’ve been living a bit of a fantasy here. I mean, the sex ... well ... it was incredible ... but ...” “I’ve been meaning to discuss that with you,” Frank said. “I have been thinking. I could close up this place, sell it.” “Don’t do that,” Danny said, his heart hammering. He avoided his gaze for a minute. “It’s beautiful here and ...” “I could go back with you to New York; we could get a place together and ...” Danny turned away. “That’s not a good idea.” He knew his voice sounded cold, but he had to think of his career now. He couldn’t live in a fantasy world. “Why not? Danny, I think I’m in love with you. I think you feel the same about me.”


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“In love?” Danny turned around. He didn’t know why he couldn’t stop shaking. Damn. It wouldn’t work. He couldn’t walk into a party with Frank on his arm. What would people say? He was one of the beautiful people. “Frank, that’s very nice of you. I’m flattered. Don’t get me wrong ... I like you a lot, but love? I think you read way too much into this. You just wouldn’t feel comfortable with my lifestyle back in New York. I ...”

Frank felt as if he’d been slapped in the face. He understood perfectly what Danny was saying. “Then what was ...” he began, his voice shaking. “What were these nights about, Danny? Are you telling me you felt nothing?” Danny turned away again. “Frank,” he said lightly, “we were alone here. We have needs, both of us. Just because you are ... you know, the way you are, doesn’t mean you don’t have needs like any other man.” He turned to face him again. “I do like you a lot. You have a great body, and I want you to know that you are the best lover I’ve ever had. I mean that sincerely. It’s too bad about ... it just wouldn’t work out between us, Frank, that’s all. I hope you understand ... I ... it was just sex.” Frank couldn’t listen to any more. He walked out of the room, fighting the tears which had accumulated in his throat and behind his eyes. He had asked for this, hadn’t he? He had only himself to blame. He suddenly realised what Cory Peterson must have felt like. Damn it, it looked like he hadn’t been punished enough. His heart was broken. He had invited Danny into his home because of loneliness, because he had looked at Danny’s beautiful face in those photographs and wanted him. How could he have thought someone like Danny could fall for someone as deformed as him?

***** Danny walked to the limo slowly, turning to look back at the house. He wanted to see Frank. He was quite desperate to catch a glimpse of him before he left, although he wasn’t

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sure what it would accomplish. The pain he was feeling was so intense, it didn’t even allow him to see his own cruelty.


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Chapter Six

It seemed that as soon as he got home, Edward was on his doorstep. He felt exhausted and he didn’t have any time to think. He realised that he was more in demand than ever before. Frank had put him ten steps ahead of the others with the photographs he had taken of him for the Taboo campaign. Danny tried to bask in the glory of public adoration, but his energy was low, and he found himself unable to concentrate. He dreaded going to all the parties he was expected at. Edward asked him several times what the matter was. Frank weighed heavy on his mind, the words he had said to him before he left. He was having trouble sleeping, and when he did sleep, he dreamt of the Italian countryside. One night, about a month after he’d come back, he took a doctor-prescribed sleeping pill and fell into a heavy slumber. He was back in Italy again, but this time he didn’t see nature, he saw a face, Frank’s face. They were standing outside Frank’s house, Frank’s hair was blowing around his face, but he could see his eyes, his beautiful eyes. “I want to come back, Frank. I want to hold you. God, I miss you, Frank.” He felt the tears gather in the back of his throat. Frank’s image was fading. He reached out to him but he couldn’t touch him. “Don’t hate me, Frank. I love you. I didn’t mean what I said ... I ...” He was no longer dreaming. He was sitting up in bed, the

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words spilling out of his mouth. “Frank.” He looked around him in his big, empty bed, and literally ached. Tears on his face, he hastily wiped them away, and then got up and walked into his bathroom. He looked like shit, and he didn’t care. He started to laugh. He really didn’t care what he looked like. Suddenly, he went back into his room and rummaged in his suitcase, the one he’d only half unpacked. Frank’s phone number. Where was it? Frantically, he began throwing everything out on the floor. He found it in the bottom of the side pocket, all scrunched up. He glanced at the phone. He had to call him. But say what? That he’d been a fool? Come to New York, Frank. Be with me. And if no one likes it, then fuck them ... fuck them all. He pressed the numbers with trembling fingers, gripping the receiver like a vise as it rang. No answer. He tried several times that night and again the next day. Finally, he sat down and wrote him a letter.

Dear Frank, Guess you’re probably surprised to hear from me. You probably don’t want to hear from me. You probably hate me. I had a dream about you. How can I tell you how sorry I am for what I said? How can I tell you I love you? I do love you, and the only time in my life that’s ever made any sense was when I was with you. Frank, please forgive me. Please, come to New York, or say the word, I’ll drop everything and come to you. I need you. I want to be with you. In fact, I don’t think I can live without you. Frank, please. Love, Danny.

Christmas came and went, and then the spring. There was no word from Frank. He knew that he’d have to find some way to put Frank Melina out of his mind. When he was alone, or dreaming, Frank was there with him. When he got desperate enough to take home a stranger, the sex felt alien and even repulsive. When he finally worked up the courage to have the AIDS test, he went alone. He would have done anything to have had Frank there


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with him. He wrote him again when he got the results, telling him it was negative. He thanked him for being there during that time. He pleaded with him again to contact him, let him know that he was all right. The months went by. Nothing. He checked the mail every day. Even after a year had gone by, memories of Frank hadn’t faded. One night, Danny woke up during a terrifying thunderstorm and thought he could feel Frank lying close to him, touching him. He wondered if Frank remembered that night. He wondered if he remembered him at all. The tears came, and the recrimination. There was a change happening to him, one that wasn’t completely of his own will. He was now twenty-four years old, and Monty, that young blond he had once tormented, was beginning to attract far more attention. The funny thing was, he didn’t care that much. He went out less and less. People who once had surrounded him were growing scarcer. He took up painting, and spent more time alone. He stopped taking Elizabeth’s phone calls, and sent her money by courier every six months instead. Edward Haller noticed Danny’s depression. He convinced him to participate in a huge fashion show they did every Christmas for charity, thinking that Danny was mourning his youth. “It will be good for your career,” he told him. “People need to see you, Danny.” After some nagging on Edward’s part, Danny agreed reluctantly. As soon as he was back in the public, he threw himself into his career again. He was determined to get back on top, thinking it would help him take his mind off the fact that he had stupidly passed on the love of his life. Soon, he began to panic about his weight again. He was finding it harder to keep the weight off now. He exercised vigorously, and ate little, taking Ritalin again. He stressed about everything, and Edward’s constant singing of Monty’s praises every second of the day didn’t help. Edward was in rare form the night of the fashion show, praising Danny’s work on the runway, but Danny knew Edward was more excited about Monty Adams. The crowd apparently was as well. Monty was barely twenty-years old now, and as full of himself as one could get.

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As Danny sat talking with some of the other guys who had done the show with him that night, Monty Adams came over to join them. “Danny,” Monty said, coming to sit beside him, “you were wonderful tonight. I wish I was as good as you. You’re the best.” Danny gave him a cool nod. “You’ll do okay. It takes experience.” “Well, I’ve got a good shot at it. I’m going to be working with none other than Frank Melina starting this week. He really boosted your career with the Taboo assignment. You never looked better.” Danny’s eyes widened. “That’s impossible. Melina is out of the business, he’s ...” “Well, he’s back in New York again ... and God, I just met him. What a hunk. If I can keep my hands off of him long enough for him to take my picture ...” He laughed. Danny stood up, looking around. “Where? Where is he?” He could scarcely breathe. “Come on, I’ll take you to him. He’s over there. Follow me.” Danny stayed close behind Monty, his knees feeling like lead. Then Monty got out of his path and pointed. “See.” It was him. Frank. He was standing there with two other photographers, wearing a white suit and a royal blue shirt, open at the neck. His hair was loose and his face ... God, his face ... was healed or fixed or something. He looked beautiful. Danny brushed past Monty and moved towards him. “Frank ...” He tried to keep the excitement out of his voice. He wanted to touch him, to kiss him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in town?” Frank broke off his conversation with the other two. He issued him a cool nod. “Ah, Danny, right? How are you?” “I’m ... ah ... fine.” Danny picked up on the attitude immediately, hurt that Frank acted as though they were strangers. “We need to talk. Can we go somewhere?” “I’m rather busy. Is this work-related?”


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Danny paled. “No. I mean ... in a way.” “Well, if we run into each other later ...” Frank trailed off. “Have your agent contact me.” Deliberately, he turned his back. Danny walked away in shock. Edward joined him shortly after. “Hey, what’s up? You okay? You look upset.” “When did Frank come back?” Danny asked him. “He’s been back for a few weeks.” “A few weeks?” Danny gasped. “Where in hell have I been?” Edward shrugged. “And his face ...? What happened? I mean ... when did he get his face fixed?” “Yeah, isn’t it something? It was like that when he came back,” Edward replied. “He looks great, doesn’t he? They can do wonderful things with ...” “Yes ...” Danny cut him off. “He looks beautiful, but he always did look beautiful,” Danny whispered. He closed his eyes. I love him. I loved him back in Italy. I was just too

damn vain to admit it, afraid what others would think. Frank had always been beautiful. Danny had hurt him deeply, but had hurt himself more. Maybe Frank had never received his letters. Maybe he didn’t know how hard Danny had tried to contact him. He had to beg Frank’s forgiveness, but how could he convince him he wanted him ... and not just because his face was fixed? Danny went looking for him again. Someone told him that Frank had gone to the parking lot. Danny ran downstairs. He saw him putting his key in the car door. “Frank,” he called out, his heart hammering against his ribs. Frank looked up. “Danny,” he said, gripping the keys in his fist. “What can I do for you?” “Why didn’t you call me when you came to town? We might have had a drink ... or something,” Danny managed, meeting his eyes.

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“Sorry, I’ve been busy.” “When did you get ... the plastic surgery done?” “Shortly after you left.” “You look beautiful. I ...” “Beautiful enough to be seen with you?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow. “Frank, I didn’t know what I ... God, if I could take back all the things I said. I missed you so much. Did you get the letters I sent? I tried to call but ...” Frank didn’t reply. He just opened the car door. Tears stung Danny’s eyes. “I wrote you when I had the AIDS test ... a few months after I left ...” “I’m glad it turned out all right, Danny. It was negative, wasn’t it?” “Yes, and thanks,” Danny said. Then after a pause, he said softly, “I dream about you, Frank. I dream about ...” “Really, good. Keep on dreaming,” Frank said, getting into the car and starting the engine. Danny watched him drive the car out of the parking lot. He was crying when he ran into Edward again. Edward took his arm. “What’s wrong?” Danny looked at him, shaking his head. “Everything. Why didn’t you tell me he was back? Why didn’t I know?” Edward was perplexed. “Danny, I thought you knew.” “No,” Danny sniffed. “He didn’t care enough to tell me.” Edward shook his head slightly. “What happened in Italy ... between you two? When you came back, you didn’t give me any indication that ...” The tears rolled down Danny’s face. Hastily, he wiped them away. “To hell with him, then,” he said. “He’s not the only man around,” he said, then stalked off.


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***** That night, Danny walked into the raunchiest gay bar he knew and ordered drinks all around. He was, of course, an instant hit. “Not only are you beautiful,” one of the intoxicated patrons told him, “you’re a generous soul.” The place was small and crowded, with a wild back room. “Line up here, boys,” Danny announced. “Listen up,” he said, raising his glass, “I’m looking for the perfect man. If you meet the criter... criteria ... I’m going to take you home with me tonight.” There were some hoots and whistles. Danny took his time choosing. He walked up and down the bar, getting quite intoxicated himself while he tried to find the perfect ass, the perfect face, the perfect eyes. Big black eyes ... that was what he was looking for, and broad shoulders, muscular forearms, bubble shaped, rock hard ass with those slight indentations. “I need a hard, thick cock ... one that doesn’t require directions,” he growled, draining his glass again and slamming it down on the bar. “Fill her up, honey. Then someone’s going to fill me, too.” The bartender laughed, pouring the straight whiskey into Danny’s empty glass. “Okay, boys, get ’em down. I want to inspect the merchandise.” Danny staggered a little away from the bar, waiting. There was laughter as several of the men lined up, began to unzip their pants. Danny kept his eyes on the emerging erections that were sprouting out the men’s pants. He took a swallow of his liquor and tried to focus. He reached out for one, running his fingers over the tip, dipping down to rub his cheek against it. “Nice,” he said, “next.” There was more laughter as he fondled another. “Baby,” someone said, “if you’re going to touch, you’re going to please.” Danny held his glass up in the air. Downing the rest, he nodded. “You’re right, how impolite of me. Who wants to have his cock sucked by Danny Verdi himself?” He suddenly looked up into a pair of big, black eyes. “Frank,” he whispered. The man shook his head. “It’s Mike, but that’s okay.”

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Danny staggered. Mike held him up. “You don’t look like you’re in any condition to do anyone much good except maybe puke on them.” Danny pushed him away. “Either fuck me, or leave me alone.” A hand reached out again and pulled him up against him. “You won’t even remember this in the morning.” “I don’t care about morning,” Danny told him, clinging to him. “There’s only tonight.” “You’re carrying a big hard-on for someone, baby,” Mike said, scooping his arm around Danny’s waist. “So you want to take care of my big hard-on tonight, do you?” Danny moaned against his jacket. “Yeah. Take me home.” Mike looked down at him again. Danny began to get lost in those dark eyes. A few minutes later, they were in a taxi. Danny laid his head on the guy’s lap in the back seat. The taxi driver looked uneasy. “Watch the road, pervert,” Danny told him. “It’s not like I’m going to blow him right here. You should be so lucky.” The taxi driver said something under his breath, then returned his eyes to the road. “You got balls,” the one called Mike laughed. “Um, wait until you see,” Danny teased. Mike reached down to kiss him. “Frank,” Danny murmured, his entire body trembling. “Mike,” he insisted. “Yeah ... right ... that’s what I said ... Mike,” Danny replied, his head beginning to droop. When the taxi pulled up outside of Danny’s condo, Mike touched his shoulder. “Wake up, sleeping beauty. I think we’re home.” Danny sleepily reached into his pocket and handed the driver a twenty. The meter read eighteen fifty. “The last of the big tippers,” the driver sneered.


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Danny went to say something, but Mike laughed and pulled him out of the taxi. “Forget it,” he said as the cab screeched away. “He was an asshole.” Staggering a little, Danny made it up the stairs with a little help from Mike. As he slipped the key in his lock and walked in, there was a part of him that wished he was alone. He felt sick, and his head was spinning. Mike leaned heavily on the closed door, running his eyes over Danny. “Come here, Danny, Daddy will make everything all right.” Danny laughed harshly, throwing his keys in the air. They landed soundlessly on the carpet. “Really? I sincerely doubt that.” Danny turned around now to look at him, squinting a little. Mike had stripped off his shirt and was in the process of undoing his jeans. As Danny’s eyes adjusted, he focused on the smooth head of the big man’s cock emerging from his underwear as he pushed them to his feet. “Come over here and suck my cock,” Mike demanded, a look of pure lust settling in his eyes. Then he smiled. “It won’t hurt a bit.” Danny laughed, moving closer. “Why should I?” “Because you want to,” Mike replied softly. “Don’t you?” Danny stood in front of him now, letting his gaze wander over the hard hairless chest. He reached out and touched him, closing his eyes, wondering why it hurt so much. He opened his eyes again. Dark eyes fixed themselves on him, drawing him closer, willing him to satisfy the needy erection that was now brushing his fingers. Mike reached over and pulled Danny’s T-shirt up over his head, trailing his fingers down over his ribcage as Danny wrapped his fist around Mike’s thick cock. “You can do better than that,” Mike breathed, struggling to pull down the zipper of Danny’s pants. When his pants fell down to his ankles, Danny kicked them away with his feet, then sank down to his knees and took Mike’s erection into his mouth. He felt Mike’s hands in his hair as he took him deeper, savoring the salty taste at the back of his throat. Looking up at him, he began to move his lips and tongue over the hard flesh. He was drowning in those eyes. In fact, at that

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moment, those eyes were all he cared about. He felt his own sex pulse, then the trickling of pre-cum running down his inner thigh. He gripped the man’s buttocks hard as he continued to move his lips and his tongue over his cock. The sucking sounds amplified across the silent living room. Mike began to moan as his body fell back against the door. He closed his eyes, leaving Danny almost frantically longing to gaze into those eyes again. Frank. How he wished he could look up now to see Frank looking down at him. He tried to recall the taste of Frank in his mouth, but the explosion of the man’s cock was masking any recollection he could summon. “Um, that was sensational,” Mike moaned, licking his lips as he pulled Danny to his feet. “I want to fuck you.” Danny placed a hand on his chest, and shook his head. “Not tonight. I’m a little tired now. I drank too much.” “Come on,” Mike said, reaching over to pull Danny into his arms. “You need it. I’ve done nothing for you. Where’s the bedroom?” Danny found himself being propelled down the hallway. Mike pulled him back against him and pressed his sex against Danny’s ass. “I need to get hard again. I’m sure you can help me do that, baby,” he whispered against his ear, giving it a gentle bite. “I’m tired. I think you should leave, Mike. I got to get some sleep.” The guy called Mike wasn’t happy. He was saying some choice words when Danny propelled him out the door. When Danny lay down on his bed, he sighed. “Oh, Frank, I don’t want anyone except you.” It was those dark eyes he saw when he finally dived into a restless sleep.


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Chapter Seven

It grew colder in the following weeks. Fall was once again upon them. Danny saw Frank occasionally at various functions, but he never got the opportunity to say more than a few words to him. They were both always surrounded by a lot of people. Besides, he didn’t know what to say anyway. When they came face to face, Frank was always polite, but distant. God, it hurt to see him. As the months went by, Monty Adams became the new golden boy. His career skyrocketed. Aside from a new campaign for men’s cologne, Danny was getting fewer offers. One day in the beginning of October, he marched into Edward’s office unannounced, demanding more contracts. Edward didn’t seem pleased to see him. Then again, it seemed to Danny that Edward had a lot less time for him lately. “Danny, you have the Desire gig. That’s a multi-million --” “I don’t care. It’s not enough. There was a day when we could set our own prices, play off several bidders at once ... and ...” “Those days, Danny ... are ... well ...” Edward paused. “You know how it is in this business. It doesn’t last forever. There are a lot of offers still, but you need to lower your standards a bit.”

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“To do what?” Danny demanded. “A fashion show in the middle of the Mart department store?” “That’s not fair, Danny.” Edward sighed. “I want a decent photographer! That Stanley Burns isn’t worth five cents. He makes me look fifty pounds heavier and ...” He broke off and flopped into the leather chair across from Edward with a sigh. Eddie sucked in some breath. “Danny, we have had this discussion before and --” “Eddie, a new photographer would do wonders.” “I agree, but --” “There has to be someone else.” Danny gave Edward a pleading look. “There is.” Edward stood up. “There’s Melina,” Edward offered, giving him a meaningful look. “But every time I mention his name ...” “All right,” Danny snapped, “if he’s the only goddamned photographer on the face of the fucking earth ...” “It’s not that ... but he’s the best, and when it comes to photographing you ...” Edward leaned across the desk and met Danny’s eyes. “You know I want the best for you, Danny; we’ve had a long and very profitable relationship. Melina did wonders for your career last time. He knows how to photograph you; he has a feel for ... you never looked better.” “I know, I know,” Danny said, putting a hand over his eyes. Both outside and inside. “Set me up some studio time with him. I want him on the summer beach project. That is still a go, isn’t it?” Danny asked. Edward nodded. “Let’s face it; the guy knows how to use a camera,” Danny said. He knows how to use

his cock, too. Edward nodded. “What about your personal history with him?”


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“According to Melina, we have no personal history; so it will be strictly business between us,” Danny growled. “There is no guarantee that he will take you on, Danny,” Edward told him. “He’s a busy man and ...” Danny stood up. “I don’t care what you have to do, Eddie, suck his cock if you have to, but this is my career we’re talking about.” In truth, he didn’t give a damn about his career. All he wanted was to get close enough to Frank to convince him of how much he loved him. Hell, he’d be content just to be close enough to look at him, or to touch him; that’s how damn desperate he was feeling. “You’d love it, wouldn’t you, you horny old man,” Danny teased suddenly when he saw Eddie’s lecherous grin. “I would suck his cock if he’d let me, from what I hear it’s something, but I think it’s going to take more than that.” Danny nodded. “I’m sure he has them waiting in a line to blow him anyway,” Danny grumbled, and walked to the door. “Give me a call.” “Will do.”

***** Frank was not surprised to receive Edward Haller’s request. He knew eventually Danny would come to him. He was biding his time. Monty was gaining popularity with the big fashion magazines, and he couldn’t deny that his photography had a lot to do with it. If Danny was going to be any competition for Monty at all, he needed Frank. Danny’s reign was ending, not because he was no longer beautiful, not because he was no longer young, but because it was the nature of the game. You were on top for a short ride, and then you faded. New faces came along. You were a commodity. Now here he was, back in the game himself, a place he told himself he never wanted to be ... and for what? For love? For vengeance? To prove something to himself? To prove something to Danny? Maybe just to punish him. He didn’t know anymore. Every one wanted to be photographed by him.

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Everyone wanted into his bed, including Monty Adams. But it was different this time. He could still play the game, but now he understood it so much better. He knew what he wanted, and what he didn’t want. There wouldn’t be another Cory Peterson. He’d learned his lesson, and he had felt the sting of it himself, when Danny had carelessly tossed him aside. Every guy he’d had sex with since he’d been back had been told, “Don’t get hung up on me. I’m not into boyfriends. If you want to fuck once in awhile, then do your own thing, fine.” So far, so good ... anyone who appeared to be a bit clingy, he kept his distance from. When Danny arrived for his appointment at Frank’s studio loft that morning, Frank was ready for him. He hadn’t slept a hell of a lot last night, and it had nothing to do with Monty Adams. He had been preparing himself, anticipating. “Put your robe on, will you, Monty, and answer the door,” Frank told him, knowing full well the effect it would have. “Okay, baby,” Monty said, slipping on his robe and padding across the hard wood floor in his bare feet. He had been doing a lot of work with Monty. He was basically a baby, shallow and high on his own popularity right now. Having sex with him would be almost like having sex alone. He was too in love with himself, and he would definitely need instructions. Monty came on to him consistently, and Frank resisted. It wasn’t difficult. Monty didn’t seem to take it personally. When the work was done, Monty was off to parties to bang an array of boy toys. The only unfortunate aspect of all that was that he loved to tell Frank every detail when he returned.

When the door opened, Danny’s anxiousness at having to look Frank in the eyes again vanished and was quickly replaced by anger. Danny ran his eyes critically over Monty Adams. “What in hell are you doing here?” “Working.”


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“I bet,” Danny jeered, pushing past him. “Frank,” he called out, marching through the open loft and into the back room where the studio was located. “Where are you?” Frank emerged out of the shadows, wearing cut-off jeans and a white tank top that emphasized his muscular, sun-kissed skin. Danny had a sudden recollection of touching that skin. Frank smiled at him. God, what an incredible smile. “Danny, you’re early,” Frank stated, coming towards him ... tall and lean, his stride confident and strong. “Have a coffee.” He indicated the table where a coffee machine sat. Danny noticed the sexy shadow across his jaw. “I’m not early,” Danny snapped, ripping his gaze off of him. “Your groupie answered the door half naked. Maybe you lost track of time.” “Maybe.” Frank shrugged broad shoulders, lifting his long hair off his neck. “Seems I’m easily distracted lately. Edward called me last week to ask me if I’d take you on. I was surprised.” “Why?” “I didn’t think you’d want to work with me ... again.” “Well, I didn’t think you’d want to work with me, either. I do what I have to for my career,” he said. “Back to your old self, I see, snotty, full of yourself ... arrogant.” Frank didn’t give Danny time to comment. “Did you bring a new contract?” He came close to him. Danny sucked in his breath, handing him an envelope. Danny watched Frank’s hands as he opened the binder. Large hands with long, elegant fingers ... hands that had once moved over his naked body. “Okay, looks like they’ll be sending over the line of clothes this morning. Makeup and hair will be here for the two of you and ...” “Two of us?” Danny echoed. “Yeah, they want you and Monty to do this together.” Frank glanced at him. “Didn’t Edward tell you?”

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“No,” Danny replied hotly, turning to look at Monty. “He didn’t tell me. This was my assignment.” “Well, it’s in the contract. Care to look?” Frank shrugged, pushing the envelope towards him. Danny shook his head miserably. “Looks like we’ll be working together.” Monty nudged him. “Better keep your mind on work.” Danny gave him a lethal look. “I don’t fool around.” Frank moved away to get some coffee. Monty looked over at Frank. “I’ll try ... but he’s a definite distraction,” he growled softly in his throat. “You must know something about that, Danny?” Danny moved closer to Monty’s ear. “That’s none of your fucking business. He’s not for you. He’s mine, so keep your dirty hands off, or I’ll cut them off.” Monty laughed and moved away. “Hey, Frank,” he called across the room, “Verdi here says for me to keep my hands off you; you belong to him.” Danny’s face went red. “I said no such thing,” he protested. Frank glanced over at Danny. “I don’t belong to anyone. So both of you keep your mind on your work, and I’ll do the same.” “I should kick your ass,” Danny told Monty softly. “You couldn’t please a man like that, anyway. You wouldn’t even know where in hell to begin.” “Oh, and you could?” He met his gaze with a laugh. “Yeah, I could. Frank and I ... belong together.” “Oh, really?” Monty laughed again. “How come he’s not with you, then? How come he slept with me last night?” Danny’s heart sank. What did he expect ... that they were playing board games? Desperately, Danny pulled Monty aside. “Listen, Monty, I fell in love with this guy a while


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back. I didn’t recognize it then. I blew it, okay? I love him. Please, Monty, don’t make this any harder.” “Look at him. If you think I’m going to pass up spending time in his bed just ’cause you were too stupid to grab a good thing when you had it, forget it. You want him, get in line, because there is a long lineup, honey ... and you’re right at the back.” “Why, you son of a --” Danny exploded, doubling up his fist. He took a swing at Monty, who ducked out the way just in time. Frank was there in a flash. He grabbed Danny and held his arms behind his back. “What’s going on here?” Danny shrugged away from him, then stalked out of the room. He took a brisk walk around the block in order to contain his anger. Well, what did he expect from Monty Adams -- understanding? compassion? He headed back to the loft, doing what he had learned to do: hide his pain. Frank drained his coffee cup as he came in, and then asked him if he was all right. “Fine,” Danny said, braving a smile. “Let’s do it.” The wardrobe came. The makeup and hair people got to work on Danny and Monty. Several of Frank’s assistants were milling around, placing things. The set was made to look like a beach, with Monty and Danny modeling swimwear and summer outfits. It was hard work, under harsh lights. Looking at Frank was making it harder. Every time Frank came close to him to position him or move something, Danny’s heart beat like a drum. Frank paused to adjust his focus before changing the aperture and shutter speed. He double-checked the focus again, not trusting the auto-focus functions. He looked through the lens another time to check the focus. Danny looked miserable. Monty seemed removed from it all -- smug, really. Frank switched to manual focus, refocused, and took a couple more shots. Satisfied, he began to shoot again for real. When Frank finally lowered his camera, Danny stretched his aching limbs in relief. “You can go change out of those things now,” Frank said.

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“I’ll stay and help you clean up, Frank,” Monty said, touching his arm. Frank was about to tell him no, but Danny was watching them, so he said, “Sure, thanks. I appreciate it. Maybe we can grab a bite later.” “I’d like that.” Monty eyed him. “We could take a shower here first.” “Help yourself,” Frank said flippantly. Danny came out and stood looking at Frank, who was busy with his camera. The other assistants were saying their goodbyes on the way out. Frank called out, “See you guys tomorrow,” still wiping his camera lens carefully with a special cloth. “I thought you learned your lesson about getting involved with fashion people,” Danny quipped. “I don’t think it’s any of your business who I get involved with. See you tomorrow.” “Frank, please.” Danny moved towards him. “Talk to me; hear me out.” Frank kept his back to him. “There’s nothing to talk about.” “Yes, there is,” Danny pleaded. “Something happened to me in Italy. I had never felt it before and it scared me. I used your face as an excuse, Frank. I realised it the minute I got home. It’s this life. You said it yourself, so fake. Finally, I had something real, but I didn’t recognize it. How could I? I’ve never known love, even as a child. Please, let’s start again.”

Frank closed his eyes. “Go home, Danny. You only want me now because everyone else does.” “That’s not true. I told you. I tried to call you ... to write to you.” When Frank didn’t react, Danny threw out at him angrily, “So you’re going to fuck Monty? I won’t let you do that. That’s too cruel, Frank. Please. I know Monty’s displaced me in the business, but don’t let him displace me in your bed, too.” Monty came out then. “Better go, Danny, get your beauty sleep.” He gave Danny a false smile.


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“Bastard,” Danny told him. “Stay out of it.” Frank turned around. “No one is displacing you, Danny.” Monty sauntered over to Frank and placed an arm around his waist. “Run along home now, Danny. Frank and I have things to do.” Frank disengaged himself from Monty. The look on Danny’s face was just too much for him. There was only so much suffering he could inflict. “Danny, I’m sorry ... I ...” he began. Danny turned around and headed for the door. “Don’t be late tomorrow, Danny,” Monty called out just as the door slammed. Frank stood frozen for a moment, then turned to Monty. “Come on, Monty. I’ll take you home.” “But I’d thought I’d stay with you tonight. I thought ...” “Why? Just so you can stick it to Danny, crush him to the floor?” “No, because you’re sexy and ...” Monty came closer. Frank stepped away from him. “Sure. Let’s go.” Monty looked defeated. Frank realised that he was being cruel. He softened his voice and said, “I’m sorry, Monty. My heart just wouldn’t be in it. You and me, well, it’s just not going to happen, okay?”

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Chapter Eight

The next day when Danny arrived, Frank answered the door. “Come in,” he said, swinging it open and walking across the floor to the kitchenette. Danny looked around him. It was a nice loft, everything hard wood. There was a sofa and a couple of chairs in the center of the room, a computer and a stereo. No television, but that didn’t surprise Danny. Frank wasn’t a television watcher. Over in the corner near the window was some exercise equipment, sitting right in front of a raised platform with a huge bed, and an adjacent bathroom. The studio was down a narrow hallway, past the kitchenette. “Coffee?” Frank asked, lifting a mug from where he stood near the sink. Danny shook his head. “No, thanks. I’m trying to cut down ... already had two cups this morning.” “Decaf?” “Sure. Is that what you’re drinking?” Danny asked, walking across the room to the kitchen counter. Frank grinned. “Yep. Too much caffeine does crazy things to my body.”


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I’d like to do crazy things to your body. Danny smiled at the thought. Accepting the steaming mug with a nod of thanks, Danny took a sip, and then moved his eyes to the bedroom. “Where’s Monty?” “He’ll be along.” “Are you going to Eddie’s party tonight?” “I suppose,” he sighed, leaning back against the sink and sipping the hot brew. “It’s good,” Danny said, indicating the coffee, trying to keep his pulses from racing so fast. Eddie’s parties were always wild. People got naked in the pool, orgies happened in hideaway places. Everyone always got drunk and stoned. Danny put down the cup, and walked around the counter. Frank glanced at him. Danny took another step. “Can I touch your face?”

“Why?” Frank asked, almost choking on his coffee. “Was it painful?” Danny asked, reaching out anyway and running his fingers over the left side of his cheek. “Yes,” he said, remembering. “How many operations did it take?” “Three,” he replied, fighting the urge to close his eyes. “It’s not perfect. There’s still a faint scar near my jaw, and here.” He lifted his hair to reveal a whitish line etched alongside of his ear. Danny traced the line with his finger. Then, lifting up on tiptoe, he pressed his lips there. Danny’s body was so close. Frank could hear his breathing, soft and erratic. Danny placed a hand on Frank’s shoulder as the other one smoothed back his hair, his lips moving down now to the corner of his mouth. “Is that why you keep the shadow?” Danny asked, moving his lips against Frank’s for a moment. Frank tensed as he felt Danny’s hand move down to one of his biceps. “Yes,” he said.

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“Sexy ... so sexy,” Danny whispered, taking Frank’s bottom lip between his for a moment. Frank closed his eyes. The door flew open. “Hey guys,” Monty called out, causing Frank to make a quick move away from Danny. He was still holding his cup in his hands. The cup was shaking slightly, coffee slopping down the sides and onto the wood floor. Frank set the cup down and came around to greet him. “Have some coffee. Everyone should arrive soon.” Monty met him as he came around the counter, and planted a chaste kiss on Frank’s mouth. Danny looked away. “I’m going to play with some lighting in the studio. Let me know when everyone gets here,” Frank added, disappearing down the hall. As soon as they were alone, Monty asked Danny if he were going to Edward’s party. “Of course,” Danny said. “I’m expected there.” “Frank’s going,” Monty said. “I know,” Danny replied. “I see you slept in your own bed last night.” “Not really ... but if you meant I didn’t sleep here ... well, then, you’re right. Frank and I both had other plans.” Danny was about to say something, but then a knock sounded on the door. It was the makeup man. After that, the others trailed in, and they began to prepare for the shoot. It was a long day as usual. Frank was having problems with the lighting today. He was working with a very advanced camera called the F5, which had several modes of metering the light. Indoors, the light took on an orange or green hue: at least, that’s how Danny understood it. “What’s wrong?” Monty was asking as he watched Frank fiddling with his equipment. “I’m not happy with the light filtering through the lens,” Frank said impatiently. Danny took a glass of water and waited. “How does it work?” Monty asked. Danny rolled his eyes. As if he cared.


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“There are a couple of different ways of measuring light,” Frank said. “There is spot metering, centre weighted metering, and matrix metering. I should use the handheld light meter. It’s more accurate.” “How can you tell?” Monty asked him, getting a little too close to him for Danny’s liking. Frank seemed pleased to be asked. “It’s all in the way you set your camera. You have to choose the right shutter speed and aperture setting to take a correctly exposed photograph in a given light source. Usually, you choose one and let the camera choose the other. For example, if I choose to shoot at one-sixtieth second and allow the light meter inside the camera to nominate the correct aperture then ...” “Okay,” Monty said, looking bored to death now. “I think I understand.” He put his hand on Frank’s bicep. “You’re so intelligent.” Danny laughed. “Can we stop the brownnosing and get back to work? It’s almost four o’clock and we all have a party to go to tonight, remember?” Frank nodded, picking up his handheld light meter, and they went back to work. The shots were brilliant, two gorgeous young men frolicking in skimpy suits on a beach. They both looked like they were enjoying each other’s company, but of course, that was far from the truth. After they had changed back into their street clothes, Monty came up to Danny and said, “You know, I remember going to your condo once.” “Really? That’s funny. I don’t remember it. It must not have been too memorable.” “You tied me to the bed and fucked me with a vibrating dildo. It was disappointing.” Danny just looked at him. “I was so happy to be picked out of a line by you. I thought you could help my career. As it turned out, you didn’t do anything for me, not even in bed. I did it all myself, in spite of the things you said to me that night.”

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Danny shrugged. “I’m sure you’ve sucked other, more helpful cocks, Monty.” Monty laughed and watched Danny as he walked to the door. A few minutes later, he followed. Danny waited for Monty to leave, then made his way back up to Frank’s loft. He rang the bell and waited. When Frank answered the door in only a towel, Danny actually took a step backwards. There were water droplets clinging to his chest; his hair was wet and slicked back. “Did you forget something?” Frank eyed him. Danny mustered up his courage, then pushed past him and walked inside. Frank waited a second, then shut the door behind him. “I need to get dressed,” Frank mumbled. Nothing he could say would make Danny more acutely aware of the fact that there was only a towel between him and his nudity. “What is it?” Danny tried to look everywhere but at Frank, but it was useless -- his gaze was drawn to Frank’s exposed flesh like a magnet. “This can’t go on. I mean, we can’t go on like this, Frank,” Danny blurted. “Go on like what, Danny?” “Did you ever get my letters?” Frank ran a hand through his hair. “What if I did?” “Then you know how I feel about you. I said I was sorry. I said that I realised I loved you as soon as I left Italy ... that I made a mistake and ...” “I’m not interested in that anymore.” “I don’t understand.” Danny’s gut was in knots. He wanted to tear off that goddamned towel! “I’m back in this world now, and it’s all about having sex with who you want, and when. I’m not interested in anything else but that.” “Hah! I see, like with Monty. If you’re into fucking your models, then don’t I qualify?” Danny took a step towards him.


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“Maybe. But not now,” Frank replied with a shrug. “Why in the hell not now?” Danny demanded, reaching out and placing a hand on Frank’s naked chest. He was unprepared for the sensation that shot through him the instant he touched Frank. He gave him a shove up against the wall. “Come on, Melina, you want to play the game, you have to know how to get it while it’s hot.” “Oh, yeah,” Frank breathed, his chest heaving. He didn’t bother struggling out of Danny’s hold. “You can show me all that, can you?” Danny slammed Frank’s body up against his and grabbed his face between his hands. “Yeah, baby, I’ll show you,” he replied, crushing Frank’s mouth with his. He moved his tongue sensuously around Frank’s as he kept a brutal pressure on his mouth, letting his hands move downward to grab the edges of the towel and pull it open. Frank’s erection sprang up into his palm, and Danny wrapped his fingers around it, groaning into Frank’s mouth. “Come on, come on,” Danny urged, moving his lips down Frank’s neck to his chest where he let the tip of his tongue slide over one of Frank’s nipples. As he fell to his knees, Frank’s hand dropped into his hair. Danny greedily took Frank’s erection into his mouth, sucking and licking, as he moved his hand up and down the shaft. When the first drops of cum floated into his mouth, he pulled back and looked up at him. Frank’s head was back, his eyes closed. He didn’t utter a sound. Danny stood up and undid his jeans, lifted off his T-shirt, then reached out and took his hand. They never made it to the bedroom. Frank reached out for him long before and drew him backwards into his strong arms. Danny closed his eyes, his tongue moving over his lips. “What do you want, Danny?” Frank asked him, lips caressing his ear, one hand roughly fondling his sex, while the other busied itself with his left nipple. “You know what I want,” Danny moaned. “Say it,” Frank urged, squeezing his ass. “Say it, Danny.”

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“I want your cock,” he breathed, turning his head and looking up at him. “Kiss me,” he demanded. Frank lowered his mouth. Their lips met frantically, the kiss bruising ... burning. Danny turned around in Frank’s arms as the kiss deepened. Frank reached underneath Danny’s buttocks, and with a grunt, he picked him up, Danny’s legs wrapping around Frank’s hips. He staggered blindly into the bedroom with Danny, his breathing laboured. As he lowered Danny onto the bed, he fumbled with something on the nightstand. He pressed his hand on Danny’s shoulder, rolling him onto his stomach. “Get up on your knees,” he said gruffly, his voice soaked with desire. Danny obliged, his breathing coming so hard and fast now, he could no longer think. “Frank,” he whispered. Then he was out of control ... warm tongue, slippery fingers, exquisite pressure on his prostrate. He cried out something ... his flesh alive with the feel of Frank’s hands, his tongue, and finally ... oh God yes ... finally, his cock. Danny was trembling when Frank finally came inside of him. His entire body went limp, completely satiated; a sensation he hadn’t experienced for over two years ... since the last time Frank had been inside of him. When he finally turned over to touch him, Frank wasn’t there. Danny got up, wiping the sweat from his chest, and walked out into the living room. Frank was sitting in a chair. He seemed deep in thought. “Frank,” Danny said softly, “that was ...” “Just sex,” Frank said politely, not looking at him. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to rest a bit before the party tonight.” Danny jerked as if he’d been hit. He choked back the emotion and began to pick up his clothes. “So,” he said at the door, “that’s it, I guess.” “You never know,” Frank said. “We might do it again, if it’s convenient.”


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Danny closed his eyes for a second, then, opened them. “I don’t ... I don’t know if my heart could take it, Frank. I don’t know if I could stand the thought of you with other men. Like with Monty ... could you kind of ...” He stopped. “Kind of what?” Frank asked, looking at him now. “Well, not flaunt the fact that you’re sleeping with him when we’re working?” Frank nodded. “If that pleases you.” “Well, it doesn’t please me exactly. It just makes it easier for me to ...” He stopped, tears choking his throat. “I know,” he managed, “this is my doing. I deserve this, but it’s just ...” Tears spilled down his cheeks. Frank looked at him. “Danny ...” Danny opened the door. “Not now, Frank.” He forced a smile through the tears, and bolted. When he got outside in the corridor, he started to run. When he got downstairs to the street, he was sobbing.

Frank sighed. He sat back in his chair, ran a hand through his hair, and closed his eyes. There. He’d done it. He’d gotten his revenge, paid him back for the pain. But somehow, it didn’t feel at all like he imagined it would. It didn’t feel like a victory.

***** One thing could always be said of Edward Haller: he knew how to give a party. When Danny arrived around nine, it was already in full swing. He could see groups of people milling around the interior pool, laughing and chattering away. Danny handed his leather jacket to the young woman at the door, and made his way down the hallway. An old KISS song was playing, and Danny laughed a little. Leave it to Edward. When he walked into the glassed-in room, several people had already decided to strip down and dive into the heart shaped swimming pool. Someone waved at him. Someone else called out, “Danny!” He

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smiled and waved back, not sure who it was. People looked different soaking wet with their hair plastered to their heads. Edward was there now, dressed rather formally in his grey slacks and navy turtleneck. “Danny,” he said, a glass of bourbon in his hand, “glad you could come.” He was already touchy-feely, which meant two things -- he was half drunk or stoned, and his wife was out of town. Danny glanced over Edward’s shoulder, noticing the halfdressed muscle boys just standing around. “Love your decorating.” Edward winked. “Really? Cost me a bundle, but they have such practical application ... not merely decorative.” Danny couldn’t help but laugh. “How’s it working out with Melina?” Edward eyed him, pouring some of the drink to the back of his throat. “You should be more concerned about how it’s going with Monty Adams,” Danny muttered. “I’m sorry about that, Danny. I knew you’d refuse if I told you in advance. It’s just such a good career move for you and ...” Danny placed a hand on Edward’s shoulder. “What’s done is done. I know you had my best interests at heart. I also know that if it came down to a choice between Monty and me, I’d lose. Speaking of Monty and Melina ... they arrive yet?” Edward bit his lower lip, shaking his head. “No, but the night’s young. I’d arrive late, too, if I had something as yummy as Melina in my bed.” “Does everyone know he’s fucking that little maggot?” Danny snapped. “Ouch ... sorry.” Edward patted Danny’s arm. “I do believe it’s common knowledge, but then, Monty fucks everything that moves. Of course, you’ve got nothing to say on that subject, Danny Verdi. You were the same ... although you seem to have slowed down some.” Danny lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes. “Well, not tonight.” “That a boy.” Edward Haller laughed. “Have fun.”


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A few people came over to talk with him now, other models, some magazine people, and a few movie stars. He was congratulated on his new modeling assignment. “It must be exciting working with BOTH Monty Adams and Frank Melina,” someone said. Danny took another drink off the tray that was going around. “Just divine,” Danny said. No one picked up on the sarcasm; no one cared really. After another drink or two, Danny stood off in the corner and watched the crowd. Drunk, stoned, horny, flashy people wearing expensive clothes ... or in the process of taking off their clothes ... talking about boring, uninteresting, superficial topics ... gossiping about this one and that. No one in this room sincerely gave a damn about him. If he walked off and died tomorrow, no one would really give a shit. He was yesterday’s news now. Anyway, he had decided one thing for sure -- no matter what happened with Frank, after this assignment, he was through. He was going to get out while the getting was good. Everything Frank had said about this business was true. He wanted to be treated like a human being for a change, wanted to eat cheesecake. He wanted to not have to smile when he didn’t feel like it. He had to figure out now what he was going to do with the rest of his life. Whatever it was, it was going to be real. He couldn’t wait to call Elizabeth to tell her that the gravy train was ending. He had paid enough. He didn’t owe her anymore. He was grateful that the things Frank had said to him had finally sunk in. It was just too bad they hadn’t sunk in faster. Instead of hanging around stressing about his failing career, he could have been somewhere else having a life. I could have been with Frank. Deciding to put it out of his mind for now, he turned his attention to the entrance. It was after eleven. Where in hell were they? Maybe Frank wasn’t coming. He didn’t give a shit if Monty came or not, but where was Frank? One of Edward’s decorations was standing in front of him now. A tight red spandex bathing suit held everything in place, barely. “Hey,” he said, smiling. Handsome, cute, adorable really, muscles everywhere. “Hey back,” Danny said. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

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“Paul. You’re my idol. I’ve seen everything you’ve ever done.” “Really? And when you grow up, you want to be just like me.” He laughed a little. “Something like that. Want to dance?” Dance? What he wanted to do right about now was die! Where in the hell was Frank? What was that little jerk Monty doing to him? Where was he touching him? He swallowed. “Sure, why not?” he said, allowing Paul to pull him across the terrazzo floor. He let his arms be filled by all that naked flesh. Paul whispered something in his ear that sounded like, “I have the biggest crush on you.” Danny took Paul’s face between his hands and studied it for a moment. He had perfect bone structure, a pretty face in a long line of millions. “You want to be a star, Paul?” “What?” “A star? You want to have your face plastered on the cover of all the hottest magazines?” “Well ... I ...” “You think letting Haller fuck you tonight is going to get you there?” Paul licked his lips. “No. I’m more interested in letting you fuck me tonight, Danny,” he said, looking him squarely in the eye. Danny nodded, running his hands down his sides. “That could be arranged,” he breathed, tightening his hold on him. “Dance. We’ll talk about that later.” Busy dancing in the corner of the room, Danny didn’t see Frank walk in, or Monty Adams, who made an entrance like a rock star. He didn’t even notice the sudden hub of voices, or the crowd of people that surrounded them until Paul said, “There’s Frank and Monty.” Danny stopped dancing. He looked over one of Paul’s broad shoulders. His eyes met Frank’s. “Kiss me,” Danny said suddenly, tearing his eyes away from Frank and moving one hand up into Paul’s sandy hair. Paul was more than happy to oblige. Danny used his other


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hand to squeeze one of Paul’s luscious butt cheeks. After a few seconds, he hastily removed his mouth from Paul’s and glanced over his shoulder again. With a sinking heart, he realised that Frank was engaged in conversation with Edward Haller.

Edward was well past the point of being ripped. He was blasted. Frank couldn’t stop laughing at him. Edward gripped Frank’s forearm. “My, but you’re a rakish, gorgeous devil, Frank. I think I want you to ravish me tonight. My wife is out of town.” Frank grinned. “Seems to me the last time you tried to seduce me, your wife was also out of town.” “No doubt,” Edward slurred. Frank took the opportunity to glance briefly over at Danny. He’d been acting pretty cozy with that muscle boy in the corner. Who in hell was that guy? Monty was at his elbow now. “Some guy just asked if he could photograph me in the nude. Why don’t you photograph me naked, Frank?” “You want to be photographed naked, no problem,” Frank said nonchalantly. “Hell ... I’ll do it,” Edward said, eyeing Monty, then Frank. “I’ll do you both.” “Eddie,” Monty cooed, “you’re sloshed. You couldn’t do yourself, let alone me and Frank.” “What do you know?” Edward waved his hand in the air and teetered off.

Danny moved Paul up against the wall. He ran his hands over Paul’s chest, then his sex. “Why don’t we get naked and get in the pool?” “Better yet,” Paul said, his cock hardening, “let’s get into the hot tub down the hall ... more privacy.” “How do you know it’s empty?” Danny inquired, preferring to stay within Frank’s sight.

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“Let’s go find out,” Paul breathed, kissing Danny’s neck. Danny grabbed Paul’s hand. He pulled him away from the wall, making sure he took the route that would bring him directly into Frank’s path. Frank was talking with a young woman in a bikini when Danny finally reached him. He recognized her as the “Sensation Chewing Gum” model. She had her hand on Frank’s arm, and he was leaning in to hear what she was telling him. Madonna was singing about seducing a priest, and Monty was singing out the words while he scanned the room for potential adoring admirers. “Monty,” Danny muttered, casting a look at Frank who was laughing quietly with the chewing gum model. “I didn’t think you were coming.” Again he cast a look at Frank, cursing the gabby model under his breath for monopolizing Frank’s attention. “We did arrive late,” Monty said, staring at Paul. “And who might this be?” “Paul, you like?” Danny pushed him forward a bit, putting him on display. With his erection threatening to climb out of his pants, Paul was quite a sight. The gum princess finally stopped talking. Frank stood up to his full height and gave Danny a half-hearted smile. “Hey,” he said. “Hey to you,” Danny replied, returning his attention to Monty, who leaned over and said something in Paul’s ear. Danny clutched Paul’s hand and looked at Frank. “Well, we hate to be rude, but we’re trying to find a place to be alone. There are just some things that won’t wait.” Danny laughed. “I see that,” Frank remarked, letting his gaze fall on Paul for a moment. “You’re Frank Melina, aren’t you?” Paul said, edging his way closer to Frank. “Yes, he is,” Danny said, as if it were of little importance. “He really doesn’t have time to ...” But Paul wasn’t listening. He was already standing in front of Frank, assessing the way his muscular upper torso filled out the powder-blue silk shirt he wore, then moving down to


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the tight black leather pants and obvious bulge between his well-muscled thighs. “I would do anything to be photographed by you one day.” “Really?” Frank said, lifting a dark eyebrow. How many times had he heard that one? “Could we do it sometime ... just for fun?” Paul inquired, running a hand over his smooth naked chest and glancing down at his own groin for emphasis. “Do what sometime for fun?” Frank teased, a twinkle in his eyes. He could practically see the steam coming out of Danny’s ears. Paul grinned. “Anything you want,” he returned, moistening his lips. “Wow,” Frank said softly. “Those offers don’t come along everyday.” “Right,” Danny interjected sarcastically. “I’m sure it’s just every other day, eh, Frank?” Frank tilted his head at him. “You sound as if you got up on the wrong side of the bed today, Danny.” “Fuck you,” Danny said, grabbing Paul’s arm. “Now, are you coming or not? I’m horny, and I don’t intend to wait all night.” “See you, Frank,” Paul said and then touched Monty on the arm as he passed by. “Bye, Monty. It was nice meeting you.” Monty merely nodded at him, busy with a young woman who was praising his latest series of photographs. “Hey, Danny,” Paul said as they lumbered down the hallway, “why don’t we invite them to join us?” He paused, glancing backwards. “Let me just go and invite them, okay?” Danny sighed. “Sure,” he said. What the hell? Frank wouldn’t “join them” anyway, but at least he’d know where they were going to be. Paul was excited when they stopped to check out the room where the hot tub was. It was empty. There was nothing in the room except for the tub and a fully stocked bar. Several terry robes were hanging up in an open closet. “I’ll be right back,” Paul said breathlessly. Danny nodded, removing his clothes and stepping into the swirling warm water. It was delicious. He sank down into the tub, placing his back against a current of rushing water. His

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gaze strayed over to the bar. Shit, that’s what he wanted, a drink. He’d ask Paul to get him one when he came back. He suddenly felt a wave of sadness wash over him as he sat there alone. Frank was so close, and yet so far away. Maybe he didn’t care anymore. Suddenly Paul returned. “I spoke to Frank. God ... he’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” Danny laughed slightly. “Isn’t he? So, what did Mr. Gorgeous say?” “He said,” Paul replied, peeling off his bathing suit, “maybe.” Danny nodded. “Figures.” “Is it true you lived with him at his house in Italy?” Paul asked, sinking into the water. Danny nodded again. “So, did you fuck him?” “What do you want to know that for?” “Is he good? I bet he’s good.” Paul leaned his head back, closing his eyes. “Hey,” Danny said, “do you want me or him?” Paul chuckled, moving over to him in the water. “Don’t be jealous.” Danny felt Paul’s hands move down over his chest and then began to slowly fondle his sex. “Nice,” Paul said softly, moving his lips to one of Danny’s nipples. He swung his legs around him as he continued to lick at his nipples. Danny moved his hands over Paul’s back, his ass, spreading the cheeks to let the spray of water go up between his crack. “I want you to suck my cock, but not in the water. You’ll drown,” Danny said, wanting to get him out of the hot tub. Paul bit down on one of his nipples. “Right there,” he pointed, “on the floor, dripping wet.” Danny grinned. “Whatever. It will feel like I’m back in gym class.” The floor was tile and probably quite cool. “So,” Danny said, watching the door, “did you get the impression that Frank might come and join us or ...?”


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Paul lifted himself out of the water. He got down on his knees as Danny emerged. Ignoring his question, he said, “Lie back on the floor, up on your elbows and spread your legs. I’m going to give you the best blow job and rimming you’ve ever had.” “Ooh,” Danny murmured trying to act enthusiastic. He got down on the floor. The floor was cold, but he was sure it would heat up. As he cast one last hopeful look at the half open door, Paul lowered his mouth to his cock.

***** Frank indulged the other people in the room by politely listening to their boring conversation but his mind was elsewhere. He knew that just down the hallway, that little muscle bound creep had his hands all over Danny. Everything in him was fighting not to march down that hall and explode. He understood the game Danny was playing very well. He knew it was all a show for his benefit. If he gave in to his emotions, Danny would win, but damn it, these games were wearing thin with him now. When that Paul guy came and asked if he and Monty wanted to join them, he almost laughed. Damn, Danny was unlucky sometimes. Who knew that Paul guy would develop a bad case of the hots for him? “I know how to treat a man like you right,” Paul had told him with a wink. He had told him “maybe,” although he had certainly no intention of touching that creep. Monty was keen to join in. He had mentioned it to him at least ten times since Paul had left the room. “Come on, Frank. Live a little. It will be great,” he said, sniffing a bit more cocaine off his hand. “Did you see the load in that boy’s suit?” He giggled. “That stuff is going to fry your brain,” Frank told him unemotionally. “Keeps me thin,” Monty said, moving his hand over Frank’s stomach before brushing it against his sex. “Did you see what was in that Paul guy’s pants?” he said again. “He’s hung ... not like you, baby ... but he’s packing and ready. You know what he told me?” Frank pushed his hand away with obvious disdain. “That he wanted to fuck you?”

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“Right. He likes me ... was eating me up. I’d like to see what he could do with this hard-on I got.” “He wants you to help him get a photo op,” Frank replied without expression, finishing off his whiskey. “Whatever. It’s me he wanted ... not Danny.” Frank glanced down at him. “Monty, he wants everyone he thinks is connected. Don’t be so fucking naïve!” “Well, I’m going,” Monty said, perturbed. “Stay here if you want.” “No,” Frank said hesitantly. “I’ll come with you.” Monty laughed now, happy again, his eyes blurred and bloodshot. He grabbed Frank’s arm and they made their way down the hallway.


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Chapter Nine

When the door slid open, Danny was back in the hot tub. He had finally told the muscle-bound decoration to piss off, especially since Frank hadn’t come. He swore under his breath when he saw Frank and Monty standing there. From the way Paul was pouting, it was quite obvious he hadn’t gotten any. Paul grinned as soon as he saw Monty and Frank. He jumped to his feet and started blabbing incoherently. “We’ve come to join the fun. Hope we’re not too late,” Monty announced, beginning to remove his clothes. Paul moved closer to help him. “All are welcome here.” He cast a glance over Monty’s shoulder to Frank. “We?” Danny said, standing up. Frank glanced over at him, and then away. Paul was beginning to move his hands over Monty’s naked body. Frank stood there in front of him, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t think you went in for this sort of thing,” Danny said coolly, more for something to say. “You’d be surprised what I go in for,” Frank hissed, taking note of Danny’s nakedness. “I want you to know that I didn’t invite you,” Danny said stiffly. “It was Paul who ...”

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“Oh, shut up,” Frank said suddenly, surprising Danny. “You’re so full of shit. I didn’t come here for you anyway, so no worries. I came here for ... ah ... Paul.” He eyed Paul and Monty, who were fondling each other. “Well, looks like he’s busy,” Danny replied bitterly. “I’ll have to wait my turn, then, won’t I?” Paul broke away from Monty. “Hey, no one gets to stay dressed here,” he said, looking at Frank. “Clothes off.” Frank shrugged. “Want to come over here and help me?” He smiled at Paul. Danny turned his back for a moment. I’m not going to stay here and let him torture

me. Paul was undoing the buttons on Frank’s shirt. Monty slipped the tie off one of the robes and came over to take Frank’s arm. The shirt was off now, languishing on the floor. When Danny finally turned around, unable to resist the thought that Frank was standing there naked, Monty and Paul were standing around Frank over in front of the open closet. He heard Frank protest suddenly, then, watched as his wrists went up above his head, wrapped with the bathrobe tie. Monty secured the tie to the steel rod running across the closet. He heard the sound of a zipper echoing in the half empty room, then saw the leather pants slide out onto the floor. “God, what a cock. Gorgeous ass too,” Paul murmured. “How in the hell did you hide all that under those tight pants?” “Bet he knows how to use it too, cock and ass both,” Monty hissed in between his kissing of Frank’s chest. He went down on his knees in front of Frank now. Danny heard Frank moan. Suddenly rage seized hold of him. Danny reached out and took a hold of Monty’s hair, pulling him backwards. “Take your clothes and go. And take that pile of shit there with you,” Danny said, indicating Paul, who had taken a cautious step backwards.


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“I don’t understand, Danny. I thought ...” Paul began. “You thought a little fucking with all the right people would win you brownie points ... believe me, it doesn’t. Take my advice, don’t end up like this sorry asshole here.” Danny reached down and pulled Monty to his feet. “Find something else to do with your life. Right now, you’re a juicy little piece of meat, but no one remembers you in the morning.” “And don’t come sucking around me no more, Paul, I can’t help you. My time in Wonderland is coming to an end. I’m getting out.” Frank’s eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything. “Listen, Danny,” Monty began, while Paul picked up his bathing trunks and crept toward the door. “Just because you think ...” “Shut up, Monty,” Danny said, “or I’ll kick your ass. Just go while the going is good!” Monty glanced at Frank, who nodded, and then shrugged. He walked over, picked up his things and walked to the door. He turned once and glanced at Danny. “You’re finished, Danny.” Danny nodded. “I know, and I’m glad. Good luck, Monty.” Monty shook his head, and disappeared. Danny stood there for a minute. He could hardly believe he’d just done that. Frank’s voice drew him back to reality. “Untie me, will you?” Danny took a few steps. His gaze moved over Frank’s beautiful body. He reached out a hand and caressed Frank’s chest. “Not just yet,” he whispered. Danny touched his face, and then bringing his head forward, he forced Frank’s mouth open with his tongue and kissed him deeply. Frank made a sound of contentment in his throat. When Danny moved away from his sweet mouth, he was trembling like a leaf. Danny swallowed. “I’d almost forgotten how beautiful you are. Monty is a lucky guy.”

96

D.J. Manly

“Monty? Hah!” Frank scoffed. “Don’t you think I have more taste than that?” Danny’s eyes widened. “You weren’t sleeping with ...?” “Give me some credit, will you? Now, untie me.” Danny smiled softly, running his finger down his chest. “Why should I? I finally have your undivided attention. Besides, I didn’t get to play.” He pretended to pout. “Danny ...” Frank gave him a warning look. “You deserve this. You made me believe that you were sleeping with that slime. You put me through hell.” Frank gave him a mocking smile. Danny shook his head, a sense of relief washing over him. He devoured Frank now, giving himself the luxury of absorbing every tantalizing inch of his hard, bronze, muscular body. “Your cock is hard. I’d like to think that I’m responsible for that,” Danny whispered, flicking his tongue over one of Frank’s nipples. “Think what you like,” Frank said coldly. “Oh, I will ... and I am ... I plan to do what I like too,” Danny told him, moving slowly around his body, then coming back to the front. He reached out and took Frank’s cock in his hand, closing his eyes as he fondled it. God, it felt good to touch him again. “I love you so much,” he said, opening his eyes to look at Frank. The cock expanded between his fingers, then started to pulse. As Danny stroked it, it exploded in his hand. Danny bent his lips down to it. “It looks like your cock likes me a hell of a lot better than you do.” “My cock never was a very good judge of character.” “You had your face fixed for me, didn’t you?” Danny asked, moving around him and wrapping his arms around Frank’s body. For a moment, he laid his face on his back. “No, not for you ... because of you.”


97

Danny ran his hands over Frank’s chest, pulling and tugging at his nipples for a moment. He heard Frank mumble something in his throat. Danny moved his hands down further and fondled Frank’s genitals, pushing his own erection against Frank’s ass. “What does that mean?” Danny asked, kissing Frank’s shoulder as his head dropped back, his soft hair brushing Danny’s cheek. He reached over to the side of the bar where there was a tube of lubricant, lubricant Paul never got to use. “It means ...” Frank breathed, “after I met you, I’d decided I’d suffered enough because of Cory. I realised I didn’t have to carry his memory on my face; I’d never forget. It was etched in my dreams, and in my heart.” Frank gasped as one lubricated finger began to enter him, then a second. Both fingers moved in and out of him slowly, making him shudder with pleasure. Finally, Danny’s cock began to tease the opening of his anus. Tears stung Danny’s eyes, but he didn’t speak. He tightened his hold on Frank, pressing his cock deeper inside of him, grabbing his hips to position him so that he could fuck him hard. “If you don’t want me,” Danny gasped, his cock already halfway buried inside of him, “tell me now.” His breathing was erratic. “A second more, and I won’t be able to ... ah ...” Frank groaned. Danny clutched Frank’s sex brutally, pushing himself all the way to the hilt inside of his tight entrance. Then, pulling himself all the way out, he plunged in again, beginning to wring the passion out of both of them as his thrusting got faster and harder. Danny came first, passion built up for what seemed like forever. He held on to Frank until he felt his cock lying spent in his hand. Danny un-wrapped his body from Frank’s rather reluctantly and reached up to loosen the ties so that Frank could lower his arms. Frank let his arms drop with a sigh of relief, rubbing at his wrists. He walked over, picked up his pants and began to pull them on without a word. Danny checked the clock that was perched on the edge of the bar. It was after four in the morning. He wondered where they went from here, more casual ... if I see you, I see you ... sex?

98

D.J. Manly

Frank pulled on his boots and stood up, shirt in his hands, and looked over at him. “It’s been an unusual evening.” Danny came closer, picking up his own pants and holding them in front of him. “The last bit of it was ...” He trailed off. “Interesting?” Frank supplied, sticking one of his arms in the sleeve of his damp shirt. “I was going to say beautiful,” Danny told him, looking down for a second. There was a pause. Frank was buttoning his shirt. “Did you mean what you said about leaving the business?” Danny met his gaze. “Yes. You had much more of an impact on me than you know. I decided tonight really ... except I have to admit, I’ve been thinking about it for awhile. It’s ironic, isn’t it?” “What’s ironic?” “Well, I’m getting out, and you’re back in.” “Not for long.” “Oh?” Danny’s heartbeat quickened. “I only came back for one reason, and now it looks like it just might work out after all.” He took a step towards him. Danny’s mouth made an O. He wasn’t sure how to react, what to say. “What ... what was the reason?” He held his breath. “You. I came back for you.” Danny tried to keep his voice steady. “Does this mean you forgive me ... that you ... love me again?” “I never stopped,” Frank told him, placing his hands on Danny’s shoulders. “Don’t you know that?”


99

Danny gulped some laughter, laughter mixed with tears, as he threw his arms around Frank and held him. “I love you, Frank. I always have ... I should have never left. I don’t know ... you believe me? You believe that I ... and it’s not because your face is fixed? I wrote. I tried to call you but ...” “Danny, you can fake a lot of things, but one thing you didn’t fake was those nights we spent together in Italy. It wasn’t the letters. It was those memories that made me believe that maybe if I came back here, you’d still want me.” “Then you got my letters?” “Only after I got back from Europe. I was at the clinic for months.” Danny buried his hands in Frank’s hair. “You didn’t have to fix your face for me, baby. I loved you exactly the way you were.” Tears rolled down Danny’s face. “I know,” Frank whispered. “I read it in your letters.” “Do you know how sorry I am? How I must have hurt you and ...” “Never mind that now,” Frank said, kissing his temple. “When I came back here, I wanted to hurt you too. I think we’ve hurt each other enough now. I don’t want to live without you anymore. In fact, I can’t live without you. So, if you’ll have me ... let’s leave this place ... together.” “Oh, I’ll have you. Over and over again, in fact.” Danny grinned, kissing his mouth. “Where are we going, handsome?” “I don’t know. Put your pants on, will you?” Frank smirked, stepping away from him. “That ass of yours is driving me to distraction and I’m too damn tired to do anything about it.” Danny chuckled. “Are you sure you won’t miss all this?” Frank asked Danny after they had finished dressing.

100

D.J. Manly

“No. You showed me some things. You reminded me of what I was missing ... reminded me of what’s really important. I finally understand. That month I spent with you in Italy was the only time I was ever truly happy.” Frank gave him a tender smile, then placed an arm around Danny’s waist. They walked outside together to the car, pausing a few times to kiss. As Frank started the engine, Danny moved his hand over and placed it on Frank’s thigh. Suddenly Frank paused and turned his body towards Danny. “Say you’ll love me forever, Danny Verdi,” he said softly, looking into his eyes. Danny leaned closer to him. For a second, he rested his forehead against Frank’s, before moving his lips down to his mouth. Softly Danny kissed him, then whispered against his lips, “Oh, Frank, don’t you ever doubt I belong to you, heart, body, and soul, and as long as I have breath in this body, I will be loving you.”

D.J. Manly D.J. writes for the pure love of writing, and always with the reader in mind. If D.J. doesn't enjoy reading it, it won't be written. There is nothing quite as exciting as beautiful men falling in love, and "the boys," get themselves into some pretty sticky situations!!! Come taste a piece of D.J. Manly's work, but be careful, you may become as addicted to reading it, as D.J. is to writing it. D.J. Manly is the author of the Eternal Souls series, (Vampire Lust, Beloved Foe, and

Wanton Renegade), Brennus' Witch, Christmas with Wistan, Dreaming of Brandon Archer, and The Initiator, part of the wonderful Sins and Virtues Series at Extasybooks. With D.J. Manly's male/male romance, you never know what "the boys" will be up to. You have only to come along for the ride. Email D.J. at [email protected] anytime with any questions or comments. You are also welcome to join my yahoo group at [email protected] for free stories and special surprises for aspiring writers. Be sure to visit my website at djmanly.com. My readers are the best in the world!

Eye of the Beholder

Eye of the Beholder

Eye of the Beholder