Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 51803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
“Puddin’, are you badgering this nice man?” The voice came from the other side of Paul, breaking into his thoughts, and Valenti could see a sleek, platinum-blond head peeking around Paul’s neatly tailored black suit.
“Not now, Remy. I’m about to add a new first-time story to my collection.” Paul McGillis gestured in irritation, but the man beside him would not give up.
“Well, aren’t you even goin’ to introduce us?” he asked in a lilting Southern drawl that poured over Valenti’s eardrums like honey. Half standing, he leaned around Paul. He had a pointed, kittenish face dominated by huge sapphire eyes and a pouting red mouth. He looked like a waif, and the tight shorts and tank top accentuated the impression. Valenti though him easily the prettiest man in the room, a dubious distinction.
“Fine.” Paul blew out an irritated breath, although Valenti thought it was just for show -- an act they performed for their own enjoyment, much as Conrad and his twink had earlier. “This shameless little slut is my boy toy and life partner, Remy Boudreaux.” He pronounced the French-sounding name Boodrow. “I picked him up in the Big Easy at the ’72 Mardi Gras and haven’t been able to get rid of him since.” He grinned affectionately at the small man beside him and got an answering grin in return.
“And I guess you already know this tired old queen, since he’s already been pesterin’ you for your sexual history.” Remy laid a small, shapely hand on Valenti’s arm and gave him a dazzling smile. “You don’t have to tell him if you don’t want to, sugar. It’s clear you haven’t been in the scene long enough to be comfortable talkin’ about it. Hell, if I met you on the street, I’da pegged you for straight as an arrow.”
“Now, Remy, there you go messing things up. Charles here was all set to tell me all about himself, and you have to interfere.” This time McGillis really did seem annoyed.
“Well, maybe he’d rather not talk about it. Look at him, sugar pie; he’s just as pale as a ghost,” Remy argued.
“No, that’s okay. I don’t mind, really,” Valenti interrupted before they could really start arguing and draw attention to themselves, and him and his partner in the process. Did he really seem that straight? If so, their cover was in worse shape than he’d imagined, and he had to think fast. Maybe a suitably juicy “first time” story would shore up his image as a gay man. Then again, he had no idea what to say, and now both Paul and Remy were looking at him expectantly.
“Well, if you really don’t mind telling, then I’d love to add your story to my book, Charles,” McGillis said eagerly. “You don’t have to go into details if you’d rather not. Just tell us about the man who initiated you into the joys of gay sex.”
“I ... I ...” Valenti’s mind was a total blank, and he felt like a fish out of water, with his mouth opening and closing and nothing coherent coming out.
“Actually, that was me.” It was O’Brian’s voice purring in his ear, and Valenti suddenly realized that his partner was practically sitting in his lap again and leaning around to speak to the men on his left.
“And you are?” Paul asked. He and Remy were both clearly intrigued by O’Brian’s sudden appearance in the conversation.
“I’m Sean, Charles’s partner,” O’Brian said with a perfectly straight face, shaking hands with both of them.
“And you were the one who got him to come out?” Remy smiled shamelessly at his partner, and Valenti felt a sizzling jolt of jealousy as he realized the other man was interested in O’Brian, or at least found him attractive.
“Well,” O’Brian said, still playing it cool. “We’re actually not out at home yet. See, we’re co-workers, have been for a long time.”
“Is that right?” Paul seemed fascinated, and O’Brian nodded eagerly.
Valenti groaned inwardly. He knew all the signs of O’Brian in a story-telling mood. His partner was on a roll now, and who knew what elaborate yarn he’d spin. But strangely, he seemed to want to stick fairly close to the truth.
“Yeah, we’ve been co-workers for almost six years, been through a lot together in that time. We’re from completely different backgrounds -- I’m just a Boston Irish kid from the wrong side of the tracks, and Valenti here grew up as Mister Moneybags in the Hamptons. But somehow the minute we met, we just clicked. It was like we completed each other -- like we were two halves of a whole, just waitin’ to meet up.” O’Brian ran one hand lovingly over Valenti’s broad shoulder as he spoke.
“See, we’re more than co-workers; we’re best friends. Spend more time together than we do apart. We were always double dating -- blondes, brunettes, redheads -- the women all ran together after awhile. But at the end of the day, when the chips were down and everyone else was gone, I knew who I could depend on -- my partner, Valenti.” Now his warm hand had wandered further over to the nape of Valenti’s neck, and he squeezed and massaged rhythmically as he spoke.