Mr. Jaguar (7 page)

James wrapped his hands on his nape with a low chuckle. “I did not, and if I hadn’t made it, I would still be indebted. It’s all my work. What did you do? You’re not an idiot, so why aren’t you in a supervisory position somewhere? You’re what, twenty-seven?”

Mike felt the heat on his face and nervously played with a button on his new shirt. “I couldn’t do what I wanted. My family washed their hands of me the moment I came out. Nothing like yours! You have no idea what I’ve been through!” He raised his voice even though he hadn’t intended to. “I was homeless, I had no money, and nowhere to go. You must be so fucking happy with yourself. You get to pay Mike Miller to be ordered around all weekend. Fuck you.”

James frowned. “That’s right. For once, Mike Miller’s doing as I say, not the other way around. And I am enjoying myself.”

Mike clenched his fists in anger, but they had nowhere to go if he wanted to get his money on Sunday. He could feel the fingernails bite into his palms. “Here I am then,” he rasped out, trying not to scream and punch. “Your fucking entertainment. The idiot who made nothing of himself in life.”

James swallowed, keeping his eyes level. “We’re both tired. Let’s go to sleep.”

Mike curled his lip into a snarl. “You do what the fuck you want. I’ll go take a bath.” He turned around before his eyes started stinging too much. He’d never felt so humiliated in his life. The only thing still keeping him here was the promise of a sum of money that could help him start a new life. James was such a privileged fucker. None of Mike’s dreams ever had any chance to be fulfilled. It didn’t matter what he’d wanted to do after high school, he never had the money to try.

He walked into the bathroom as fast as possible and didn’t even turn the light on at first, looking into the mirror in the darkness that was only broken by a bit of light coming through a small window. He was taking deep, long breaths as the other Mike Miller gritted his teeth, fighting the stinging heat rising in his head and chest. It was only after several minutes that he hit the light switch, illuminating the walls covered by a golden mosaic. The bathroom was huge, with a bowl-like sink on the counter, a spacious shower stall, and behind it, a large bathtub in the corner.

Now that he was in here, he wished he’d taken the wine from his duffel bag. Then again, would drinking make him even more of a loser in James’s eyes? He took deep breaths as he opened the faucet. He wasn’t even sure what was worse, this day, or the day his brother found gay porn on his computer, and Mike decided to come clean about who he was. Bad fucking decision. He had thought it was a good time to come out, even when his father created a shitstorm and threw him out. Mike was too busy imagining all the gay sex he’d have in defiance of his family. But nothing like it ever happened. He never met anyone. He was never able to recognize who was gay and who wasn’t. Not to mention how badly it freaked him out that he might hit on a straight guy and end up being mocked to the end of his life. The anxiety was such a mood killer he couldn’t bear it. Before Mike knew it, he’d ended up at Vega’s gas station to make ends meet, and that was the death of his sex life. He sure as hell fantasized about things that he could do, things that could happen, but with no money, no car, not even a cell phone, fantasies were all he had.

Fantasies of ‘what if’. What if he’d gotten to fuck that ugly duckling gay boy at school? What if they’d managed to have a secret arrangement?

When the water filled the tub, he took off the clothes that didn’t suit him anyway, and folded them neatly before slipping into the water. The immersion got him all breathing hard again and trying not to cry. He wasn’t scum. It just never worked out for him in life. He should have stayed in the closet. It would have been so much better if he had just stayed a bachelor who flirted with girls in public but never married one.

He never had much luck, but this ‘chance’ James graciously offered him was turning out to be a mere power trip, a way a grown man could get back at a guy who teased him at school. How ridiculous was that? First, James offered Mike all those nice things, clothes that made him look good, and then it turned out it wasn’t enough to make Mike even remotely attractive to him. Maybe the fucker had planned this all along, who knew? What Mike despised the most was the way James looked at him when he was telling him what kind of scum Mike really was in his eyes. That gaze had been so cold but filled with satisfaction, as if James had just achieved something he had been waiting for his entire life. Mike could bet the sonofabitch would sleep like a baby tonight, and all that after Mike had gone beyond himself to prove how much he was worth.

He called him ‘baby’ and ‘Jamie’ all day. Gave James compliments, most of them real, and was as polite as he could get. It sickened Mike to think that James had probably been laughing at him all day. Mike took another deep breath and put his head under the hot water. A tiny part of him was embarrassed to have imagined being someone James could fall for. What a stupid fucking idea. They probably wouldn’t get along anyway, but when he’d seen James, standing by that Jag, in those shades and the white shirt, in the middle of nowhere, Mike had thought he’d seen a mirage, that was how much he was attracted to James. He was almost as tall as Mike, had that masculine figure, with wide shoulders and narrow hips… Mike wanted to touch him so bad, yet hated him so much at the same time. The shame of being gay never really left him, no matter how confident he claimed to be. It was all a wall he put up not to get hurt by the homophobic comments. When he thought about James’s body, about the strong stomach he’d touched, or about kissing his stubbly cheeks, the shame never left, but it did become easier to bear with the prize being so delicious.

He pulled his head from under the water with a gasp. He needed to finish off this weekend on a good note, find himself a boyfriend in Las Vegas so they could fuck like bunnies. He was so done with living like a monk.

He only left the tub when the water was turning cold, but he did all he could to stay in the bathroom a little bit longer. Looking into James’s eyes again was among the last things he wanted to do. On top of being mocked, getting sexually rejected as well was no fun at all.

He eventually wrapped the fluffy hotel towel around his hips and pressed on the door handle. He was surprised to see darkness in the bedroom, even more so when the ray of light from behind him fell on James’s legs that almost reached the edge of the bed. Mike leaned out of the bathroom and switched off the light, burying the bedroom in semi-darkness. Now that his eyes were getting used to it, he stepped closer to the bed where James was lying on his side, curled underneath the bedspread, as if he fell asleep waiting for his own bath time. Thank God he’d left the other half of the bed empty because Mike would rather not sleep on the floor.

He was dubious about wearing the CK pajama pants James had gotten him, but he still pulled them on because otherwise he’d have to sleep naked or just in his briefs. Mike gave one last long look to the bright lights behind the window and slipped into bed with his back turned to James.

Only two days left.

****

Chapter 5

The light coming through the window was like a dusting of flour all over Mike’s face. James stared at him, unable to move, his body still rigid after a sudden awakening. He didn’t want to fall asleep last night. With every minute of Mike’s absence, his anger was giving out to a blob of guilt that was growing inside his stomach and making him gag. He had been such an asshole. What was wrong with him? He had never been a bully, so what had changed? Was it enough that now he had the upper hand over Mike? He didn’t want to be this kind of person, and every time he remembered Mike’s eyes growing wider, his paling cheeks, the way he seemed to have lost his usual ease of speaking, James’s stomach clenched with cold guilt.

Slowly, he slid one leg from under the bedspread and pushed himself closer to the edge of the mattress. The last thing he wanted was to wake up Mike. He wasn’t ready to face him yet. He needed to take a bath and come up with a strategy. He needed to apologize, there was no doubt about that, but how was he supposed to do it when Mike refused to apologize for all the shit he had done? With his stomach in his throat, James managed to put one foot down on the wooden floor, and then used it as leverage to slide the rest of his body off the mattress. His breathing became shallow just from the stress of watching Mike asleep so close to him. Was the guy only wearing underwear under the comforter? His chest was bare, his meaty pectoral muscles exposed by the covers. Even with guilt pulling him away, James imagined himself resting his head on the fleshy pillow on Mike’s chest.

James couldn’t help himself and peeked under the comforter, face flushing with heat. Mike was wearing the Calvin Klein pajama pants James had gotten him yesterday. Gray plaid and that thick elastic band over the hips, just low enough to reveal a tiny bit of ass. James quickly let go of the comforter and tiptoed to the bathroom, pulling off his shirt on the way. He closed the door and took a deep breath, hugging the warm fabric to his chest. A faint floral smell was thick in the air, making the situation even more alien. James hated flowers, except for cacti, and he would never have his own apartment smell like that. He briefly wondered whether Mike liked it, and slowly smelled his shirt. Revolting. Of course, being so nervous and angry, he had sweated like a pig and the evening’s argument hadn’t made that any better. He tossed the shirt to the floor and slowly climbed into the shower stall that could easily fit three average-sized men if they were desperate to save water.

He braced himself for the shock of cold water, and it came all too soon. He so deserved it. A whole day of enjoying the little kisses, touches, and pet names.
Jamie
. Only his mother called him that. Even his long-term boyfriend had insisted on using James’s full name, and yet it sounded so sweet coming from Mike. Every time, his warm voice trickled down James’s neck, back, chest, and dribbled off his cock, like the rivulets of water that were now cascading down the arch of James’s limp dick and into the drain at his feet.

It had been so hard when those sweet words and gestures pulled on both his dick and his heart, and he had to resist. There was no way he would get involved with someone like Mike Miller, who would probably trample all over him once he got what he wanted, just like back in high school. People didn’t change, and James was the proof of that. He might have improved his shell, but inside, he was still the same awkward guy whose body froze whenever Mike Miller growled at him. Unfortunately, he also still got flustered and hot every time Mike Miller was close. He was enveloped in a bizarre, never-ending
déja vu
. He needed to keep things the way they were. Mike would get his money, and James would tell himself that he got over both his fear and lust for the man. It would be officially over.

James took his time washing every nook and cranny of his body. Despite all the time spent ruminating about Mike, and the rollercoaster of yesterday, his head remained empty even as he pressed the door handle and left the bathroom.

Seeing Mike in just a pair of white boxer briefs with a background of glorious sunshine wasn’t helping him think either. It was as if the sun was there just to welcome Mike in the morning and caress his muscular body. James had no idea what Mike had to be thinking of him now. The moment James came out though, Mike turned his head to him for a split second before continuing to dress without a word. He put on the light-brown slacks they chose yesterday so that Mike could impress James’s nemesis.

James cleared his throat and quickly rushed to the closet. “Hi,” he uttered, and as soon as his back started tingling, he knew Mike had to be looking back. He exhaled and looked at the clothes he came with. And to think he had been so sure of himself when he packed them. Now it didn’t seem like it was good enough.

“Which shirt do you want me to wear?” Mike asked as if he thought James believed he wasn’t good enough to have an opinion. “The tea-colored one or the white one?”

It was all James’s doing. He swallowed hard, unsuccessfully trying to cover himself with a sharp blue shirt. “Take the one you like.”

All the reply James got was silence and a rustle of fabric. He took a peek at Mike in the mirror and saw him in the white, soft cotton shirt with rolled up sleeves. Mike was tying the slim brown tie and looking like a million dollars. It was as if the shirt had been made for him. Or maybe it fell in love with Mike’s shape, from the wide shoulders and bulky arms to the defined stomach, and decided to hug him.

James swallowed and walked over to him. He wanted to give him some advice on the tie, but his breath caught in his throat the moment he touched the soft brown silk.

Mike looked right into his eyes in a way that felt very much like a punch, but didn’t say a thing, pulling his hands away and letting James do the tie.

James gritted his teeth and finished the tying, before slipping the end of the tie between two buttons over Mike’s breastbone, so that it wouldn’t loosely hang out. “Looks good on you,” he whispered.

“Like the trophy boyfriend of a millionaire should.” Mike gave James a crooked smile.

James cleared his throat and quickly made his way back to the closet. “I’m good-looking enough to not call my boyfriend a trophy. Not like that fucker Richard. I bet Savannah’s bored to death when she’s not out shopping with his credit card,” he growled, slipping on the shirt.

Mike put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the doorframe. “She seems to like fake teeth.”

“Too big for her mouth, right?” James swallowed. “Last year, she told me she had them done in L.A. in the same clinic as her favorite celebrity.”

“Anne Hathaway? That girl has a lot of teeth.”

“No idea,” said James but couldn’t hold back a smile. He buttoned up the shirt and reached for the boxer briefs, suddenly stopping with the underwear in the air. Was he supposed to slip it on under the towel as if he were on a beach, or just let the towel fall down and show Mike the ass he worked for at the gym?