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"Blair, sweetheart. This isn't a good idea."
Blair rolled his eyes at his manager, then sagged into the too comfortable, too soft, leather sofa and let his head fall on the back cushion. He stretched his arms out on the back of the couch.
"Todd, all I want is a day to myself. A walk, lunch at some nice place without a bunch of people fawning over me, maybe a movie and some greasy popcorn. I'm tired."
"I know that. Heavens knows you've been on the go long enough without a break. But, do you really want to chance getting mobbed by your fans? You know you hate crowds." Todd settled next to Blair on the couch, tried looking comforting.
Blair groaned and pushed himself up. He was tired. He was tired of traveling, of people telling him where he had to be when, what to wear, who to talk to, what to say. And he was in particularly tired of Todd hanging all over him. As a manager the man was marvelous, as a companion, he left a lot to be desired.
"I do most of my modeling in Europe, Todd. I doubt that I'll get mobbed here, especially if I dress the part of a college student in a college town."
Blair turned toward the full length mirrors that made up one side of the plush tower office and surveyed himself critically. His curly hair was cut slightly long in the back, held in place by too much gel. His huge blue eyes were the exact same color as the blue silk shirt that draped over him, following his slender body and tucked into heavy black velvet slacks. The slacks weren't quite painted on, but they were tight and left very little of his body to the imagination. The black leather boots were slightly heeled, and reflected the lights in the room off the high shine. A silver wolf head pendant peeped out from the thick hair on his chest. He almost didn't recognize the waif that looked back at him. He didn't look like he was mid- 20s, more like barely out of his teens. His face was too pale, his eyes too big, his skin too delicate, his lips too full and pouty. But it was the look the European fashion houses wanted and his bank balances reflected his demand on the runways. His manager left the sofa and grasped the young man's shoulders from behind. Todd towered over his model, and his brown Armani suit contrasted sharply with the silk and velvet that Blair wore. His black hair molded his head and neck, making the older man's brown eyes stand out from the slightly olive complexion.
"I don't like the idea of you being alone in a strange city. Let me go with you."
At Blair's frown, the manager amended his statement. "Or at least let your driver escort you. Bret is a martial arts specialist and packs a firearm."
"No. Todd, I can take care of myself. All I'm asking for is one day. No escort, no driver, no cell phone, no pager." He slid from the hands that gripped his shoulders so possessively and entered the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him, before leaning against the heavy wood, breathing hard. When had he lost control of his life? He shook his head, knowing the answer to that question; the moment he'd turned sixteen and walked down a runway, modeling silks and satins for the ultra rich. He pushed off the door, headed toward the marble sink and looked at himself in the mirror again. The waif looking back at him had to go.
He turned on the faucet, ducked his head under the warm water and grabbed a handful of soap. As he lathered Ivory onto the styling gel, he smiled to himself. His stylist was going to have a fit. It took three tries to get the gunk out of the soft curls before he was satisfied enough to roughly towel it dry. He turned a hand dryer on and turned it to his face, letting the hot air blow on his wet head. Five minutes later he looked at himself and combed through the waves. Better. The top was almost all curls, but the back was long enough to be wavy, without ringlets. He washed his face again, removing any trace of makeup that enhanced his eyes and high cheekbones, worn so casually for impromptu photo shots. When he looked back again, he shook his head. Now he did look impossibly young. Good thing he wasn't planning on going anywhere that he'd get carded.
"Blair, honey, are you all right? Will you let me in?" Todd tapped on the door, jiggling the handle.
Blair pulled open the door, stepped around his manager and went to the huge desk that took one wall of the office. He pulled the phone to himself, asked the receptionist to have a car waiting for him. Then he faced Todd again.
"Todd, I'm going out, change clothes, disappear, be completely unnoticeable. For the next 24 hours, I am not available to anyone. Got it?"
"This is really scaring me. Will you at least carry your cell phone? Just in case, it is a new city after all." Todd took the phone off the charger, held out the candy bar sized instrument. Blair looked at it for a long moment, then reached for it.
"But I'm not turning it on." Blair opened the door and glided out, shutting it behind him before his manager could reach it. He glanced at the secretary with a small smile and shrug. "Karen, did you find me a car?"
"Yes sir. I'm afraid that the limo is busy so you'll have to settle for the Jag. Bret is bringing it around. Is there anything else?"
Blair shook his head as he crossed the reception area of the local office for the modeling agency he worked for. The walls were lined with photos of the most glamorous male models available for hire in the Pacific Northwest. His face graced several of the glossy 8x10s. He scowled at them. He looked over his shoulder at the petite blond, flashed his most winning smile. "Yes, there is Karen." He waved his hand at the photos. "Get rid of these." He didn't wait for her startled answer.
He was on the street corner when the silver Jag pulled up. He hopped in the passenger side, not giving the huge American Indian driver a chance to run around and open the door. Bret looked at his young charge, pulling his expression into something carefully neutral.
"Where are we going?"
Blair pulled out his wallet, checked his cash supply. "Shopping. Someplace where I can get jeans, t-shirt, that sort of thing. And then a car rental place." Blair leaned his head against the glass, eyes closed The driver looked at the young man, feeling the tension that was bleeding off of him in waves. He carefully pulled out into traffic, mentally routing himself away from the downtown area. After a few minutes of silence, Blair opened his eyes and looked around.
"Where are we?"
"Near the university. I understand that a mall in that area has a large selection of men's clothing stores. Perhaps you'll find what you want there." Bret cast another glance at the young model. "Want to talk about it." He'd been Blair's sounding board off and on for years. While he thought of himself as Blair's friend, he wasn't sure Blair felt the same way.
"I'm tired, Bret. Really, really, down to the bones, can't move another inch, tired. I can't tell you how many cities I've seen in the last six months. I'd get on a plane in one, wake up in another. How many times can anyone stand being mentally undressed by someone old enough to be your grandmother, or groped, or propositioned, before it's too much?" "Perhaps it's time for you to choose a different path."
"That's what I'm thinking." He stretched as far as the car seat would allow, then noticed his surroundings again. "Bret, right there. Stop." He pointed at the huge red, white and blue sign that proclaimed 'Army Surplus.' "That's perfect."
The driver turned the car into the parking lot, nosing the Jag up to the windows filled with mannequins draped in camouflage. Blair was out of the car before the engine died. Bret jumped out behind him.
"Mr. Sandburg, please." He eyed the block building, the fake weapons scattered around. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. Are you coming?" And the model was swinging the glass door open, all the weariness dropping off the slender figure as he disappeared into the darkness. Brett had no choice but to follow, locking the car carefully, checking to see if the concealed firearm was truly concealed, before following his charge.
Inside was dark and cool, smelling of dust and mildew, leather and gun oil. The overhead fluorescent barely cut through the gloom. Blair stopped inside the doorway to let his eyes adjust to the dimness before staring at piles of folded clothes on the metal shelves. His hand went to a fur collared leather bomber jacket, feeling the old soft leather under his palm. He was barely aware of his driver behind him.
A balding, pot bellied man looked up from the newspaper that he was pouring over. "If you see anything you want to try on, yell. No checks, cash or credit cards only. You have to be 21 to buy a weapon and we ain't buying anything." He went back to his paper.
Blair wandered the store, marveling at the collection of things packed on shelves, in boxes, on the floor and hanging from the ceiling. He didn't recognize half what he saw. His fingers roamed over the long knives in their scabbards, throwing stars, crossbows and arrows. He knelt and looked at a pup tent set up in a corner, camo netting thrown over it, sleeping bag on the ground inside. "Isn't this a cool place, Bret? I could spend hours just looking. I don't even know what I'm looking at most of the time."
Bret looked around him. Unlike the younger man, he recognized and had a working knowledge of most of the weapons he'd seen. "If you've seen enough, perhaps we should try a different location." He didn't want to hint that Blair stood out here. The young man would be a easy target for some of the people that shopped here.
"No, this is perfect." Blair pulled a pair of jeans out of a folded pile, held them up to himself, then started searching the stack for sizes. Three pairs later, he picked them up and went to the rack containing flannel shirts, where he pulled off a black and red one, and a bright green plaid with a black tee shirt underneath it. He bounced back to the counter, asked about a dressing room and was pointed toward a curtained off storeroom.
Bret stood just outside, listening for the young man, eyes on the counter and doorway. He did not like this place! Blair ducked back out, holding his arms out as he surveyed his change. The jeans were worn but clean, with a hole in one knee, faded and soft. The green and black flannel shirt draped over the black tee shirt. He'd pulled off the fancy boots and stood in front of Bret in sock feet, grinning. "What do you think?" He turned around, hands brushing against the flannel.
"I think you look like a little boy."
"Thanks, man." Blair sighed. "Look, I can't help it, if I'm small for my age. And I can't help having this face. Maybe I'll grow a beard, okay?"
"Todd will love you for that." Bret shrugged. "But it's your life. Maybe you're right, maybe it's time for a change."
Blair piled his new acquisitions on the counter and waited while the salesman rang them up. The pot-bellied man eyed the young model as he rattled off the total, eyes gleaming when Blair peeled several new bills from the snakeskin wallet. Then he looked at the bodyguard/driver and turned away in disgust.
"You want a bag for those, or are you planning on wearing them?"
Blair snagged a pair of jeans, the green flannel, the black tee shirt, and the light weight canvas and leather hiking boots he'd found. "Bag up the rest." Then he went back to the storage room and replaced his expensive designer clothes with the denim and cotton. He added the velvet to the bag with a smile at the balding store worker. "Do I still look like a rich kid?"
He grunted. "Once a rich kid, always a rich kid. What you're wearing ain't gonna make no difference, especially while you have Tonto at your back and riding in expensive wheels."
"That's the next stop; a different set of wheels. Can you recommend a good rental company?"
The newspaper rattled and he turned a full color ad to his customer. "These guys'll rent you a good one and won't soak you to bad. Tell 'em you're a college kid and they'll do you a decent deal. Leave Tonto behind."
"Thanks again. You've been really helpful." Blair gathered his bag, started for the door, with the driver shooting daggers at the sales clerk, following close behind.
"Hey, kid. Watch yourself."
Blair turned at the call, eyebrows rising in question.
"Parts of this town don't like rich kids. Not everybody was born with a silver spoon, you know."
"I know. Neither was I." Blair turned around again, ready to push open the door and escape into the sunlight, when it opened in front of him and he narrowly missed falling.
Strong arms and big hands grabbed him as he stumbled, reacting faster than Bret could from behind him.
"Easy, kid. Gravel doesn't do your teeth any good." The strong hands sat him back on his feet and let him go.
Blair could only look at the tall man and stare, his heart pounding in his chest, barely able to breathe. A Greek god in camouflage was in front of him, half in, half out of the door. Blair struggled to say something besides an undignified stutter. All he could see were clear ice blue eyes, brown hair that had grown from a crew cut, beautiful high cheekbones. "You okay, Kid?"
Then Bret was there, one hand on his elbow, the other opening the door all the way. "He's fine. Thank you for your help."
The tall, lean body brushed by them with a nod, mind already on his business with the store keeper. "Hey Tom, I'm shipping out on Monday. You got any good knives?"
"For you, Jim, the best in the house."
Blair let himself be steered toward the car, but after two steps, shook off the helping hand and looked back toward the closed door. "Who was he?"
Bret shrugged. "Don't know. Some jarhead." He opened the Jag's door for his young charge. "Where to now?"
Blair threw the bag into the backseat, closed the door without getting into the vehicle. He turned to his driver, a twinkle in his eye, feeling more alive than he'd felt in months. "I've got to meet him."
Bret sighed. "That's not a good idea. He'd break you in half. Did you see his shoulders."
"I saw."
Blair dug out his wallet. "Look, run across the street, call yourself a cab and go back to the studio. I'm going to wait for Mr. America and offer to buy him a drink, or something."
"Mr. Sandburg" The Indian's objections were overridden by the impatient young man shaking his head.
"You don't understand. I know some of the most beautiful men in the world." Blair stumbled on the words, hands free willing. "But, it was like wham and my heart-rate must've tripled. I've got to try to meet him."
"You could get hurt. What will your manager say?"
"'Blair, you stupid little boy. What made you think a man like him would be interested in you?'" Blair quoted, with a remarkable mimicry of his manager's accent. "It's what he always says every time I see something I have to have. But I've got to try." Blair touched his companion's arm. "Haven't you ever wanted to fall in love like a rock falling from the sky? To be so consumed by someone that no matter what the rest of life brings, you'll always have that moment?"
"No, I'm not a romantic, at heart or otherwise." The tall man looked into his young friend's eyes. "You keep the car and the cell phone. Do not rent something that I don't know about and can't find. And don't follow him home. If he does take you up on your offer, rent a discreet hotel room, in your name so if something happens, I can find you."
"Yes, Dad." Blair laughed. "You're worse than Todd sometimes."
"Todd is your manager. He sees dollar signs every time he looks at you. I'm your friend. I don't like letting my friends walk into something dangerous. And this guy could be dangerous."
Blair's laughter died. "I'm an adult, Bret. I've been around the world. And I do know how to take care of myself. Don't worry. I'll buy him a beer and that'll probably be the end of it." He patted the arm that was braced against the car. "I'll be okay."
Brett finally nodded. "I'm going across the street." He scanned the strip mall on the other side of the highway. "To the coffee shop. If it doesn't work out, come get me. If it does, I'll call a cab when he gets in the car with you." He sighed. "Good luck, Blair." Then the driver trotted across the highway, dodging traffic.
Blair leaned against the silver car, then hopped on the hood. //What should he say? How should he say it? 'Hi, you want a date?' Hey, soldier, can I buy you a beer?'// His thoughts were interrupted by the Greek god charging through the door, turning to shout back at the owner.
"I'll see you when I get back, Tom. Tell Helen hi."
"Take care of yourself, Jim." The voice followed him out.
Blair froze when his eyes met the larger man's. All of the words that he'd considered fell from his brain and he was left with a mute stare. He couldn't move, speak, think.
"Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself when you tripped?" The god was speaking, coming closer.
Blair almost shook himself, trying to free himself from the enchantment. "No, I'm fine." He stumbled over the words again. "I just wanted to say thanks." He tried to slide off the car hood but his knees wouldn't hold him and he found himself leaning against the metal, looking for strength.
"Oh. Okay. You're welcome." The smile was brief, and touched Jim's eyes before he started past the car, one hand reaching out to tap Blair's arm in passing. The touch was an electric shock that spread through his body. He followed the retreating back with his eyes, seeing each muscle outlined under the camo tee-shirt. His brain demanded that he do something; the god was getting away!
"Jim, can I buy you a cup of coffee.. or something?"
The god turned around, frowned at the boy on the expensive car. "How did you know my name?"
"The store manager called you by 'Jim'." He shrugged. "Seemed likely."
Jim smiled a little, shaking his head. "Suppose so." He took two steps toward the Jag. "You want to buy me a drink?" The smile touched the ice blue eyes.
"Or dinner, or a movie, or any combination?" Blair blushed, stammering, finally ducking his head." He kept his eyes down until a highly polished pair of combat boots stopped in front of his lowered vision.
"Are you trying to pick me up?" The voice sounded harsh, and amused at the same time. "Do I look like someone that wants to be picked up?" Blair let his vision follow the long legs encased in black denim up to the narrow hips, daring to let his eyes see what was hidden so neatly behind the snug fabric at the crotch; up to the wide leather belt to the tee shirt that was tucked inside the jeans, over the rippled stomach that the tee shirt outlined, to the broad chest with strong pecs, the corded neck to the planed face and finally the blue, blue eyes.
"No." He inhaled deeply, trying to steady his voice and heart at the same time. "But I'd like to get to know you, if only for a few minutes." He wanted to beg, yell, plead, but inside he knew that if this man said no, that was the end of it and he'd get in the car and drive away, heart suddenly broken and not know why.
Jim's eyes flashed with amused interest, then he grinned at the earnest face looking up at him. "You've got a lot of nerve, Kid. How old are you, seventeen?"
"Twenty four." Blair smiled, suddenly insanely glad he was wearing jeans and tee shirt, not the designer clothes hidden in the plastic bag on the backseat of the car. "You want proof?" He started to reach for his wallet and i.d.
"That's okay. What's your name?"
"Blair. Blair Sandburg."
"Jim Ellison." They shook hands formally and Jim smiled at the strong grip, even if the hand was as smooth as a woman's. "So, Blair Sandburg, what brings you to Cascade?"
"Would you believe that I'm enrolled in college?"
"Nope. Not with that car. Or the bodyguard." Jim looked around. "Which I don't see."
"I asked him to leave. "
"Actor?"
"Maybe."
"Does that mean you're a teen idol?"
"Not the last time I looked." Blair scooted over, let the larger man lean on the car hood with him. Inside his heart was doing a tap dance. The Greek god was talking to him! He deftly changed the subject. "I take it that you're military. Marine?"
"Army Ranger, Special Forces." At Blair's blank look, Jim chuckled. "One of those that go in before the Marines."
"Will you let me buy you a drink? I heard you tell the guy inside that you were shipping out on Monday. That gives you four days to party. I'm pretty good at parties. I can sing, dance, play a little rock and roll."
Jim laughed and Blair's heart leapt. This man was beautiful when he laughed. "Sure, Chief, you can buy me a beer. It's not everyday that I get propositioned by someone driving a Jag. You still haven't told me what you do?"
Blair slid off the car, faced the big military man. "Really? You'll spend a little time with me? I don't know anything about this town, where a good place is, what to recommend. I just got in last night." He paused to take a breath and Jim laughed in the sudden silence.
"Why don't you follow me? There's a nice little blues bar just down the street. This early in the day, there won't be anybody around."
Blair looked at his watch. "Oh man, it's not even noon yet. Can you buy a beer in Cascade before noon?
"Where've you been, Junior? This is the Pacific Northwest. If you know where to look, there's places that never close." Jim pointed at an old Jeep, canvas top rolled against the roll bars. "That's mine. Just follow me." And he strolled away, leaving Blair to scramble into the Jag, dig out keys, and start the finely tuned engine. He took a moment to close his eyes and breath deeply before putting the car in gear. Then he eased the car across the lot, following the Army guy, waiting for him to swing into the jeep with ease and roll the vehicle onto the street.
Across the street, Bret sipped his coffee and watched the Jag follow the jeep down the street. He really wanted to grab a cab, yell 'Follow that car' and make sure that his young charge was going to be safe. But he told himself for the umpteenth time that he was only a driver/bodyguard because he was the only one that Blair let get close enough for the job. And that was because he kept his distance, did not fall into Blair's definition of 'mother hen' or 'spy'. Today Blair was demanding the distance, trying to reclaim his independence, if only for a little while. He sighed. It was hard to be a guardian from a distance.
Blair parked the car in front of the worn log cabin, eying the building with suspicion. This was a bar? But Jim had pulled up in front of the steps and was leaning against the wall like he belonged there, arms crossed loosely on his chest, sunglasses hiding the blue eyes. Blair locked the car carefully, and after a moment, activated the security system. He trotted up the stairs and joined the older man, who pushed off the wall and held the heavy wood door open for him.
Blair almost stumbled over the steps as his eyes tried to adjust to the dark interior. Jim took his elbow briefly, leading him toward the long wooden bar in the back of the open room, steering him around tables and chairs.
The bartender looked up from drying glasses. "Hey Ellison, kinda early for you isn't it?" He sat the glass and towel down, reached for a tall mug and sat it under a tap.
"Showing a new friend the sights, Bob. Blair; Bob. Bob; Blair." He hooked a stool with his foot, perched on it and pulled another one out for the younger man. "Blair just got into town last night and offered to buy me a beer."
Bob stared at the younger man. "You old enough to drink, kid?"
Blair rolled his eyes and pulled out his wallet. "Yes, and I'd like a dark ale if you have it, preferably something brewed locally." He handed his driver's license to the big man behind the chrome and wood bar.
The large black man took the plastic card, held it up to the light and compared it to the man perched on the seat. He handed it back to Blair then handed Jim his overflowing mug. He reached under the bar to a small refrigerator and pulled out a tall bottle and glass. "You don't sound East Coast."
"I'm not. It's just where the license was issued." He glanced at Jim while the bartender opened the beer and poured it into the glass. Bob slid the beer toward him, waited while Blair sampled it and nodded his approval.
"Run a tab, Bob." Jim slid off the stool and headed for a table in a back corner, taking the chair facing the door, Blair close behind. "And put on some music," he called back toward the bar.
"What do you want?" Bob reached for the stereo hidden in the open stock
"Anything but country. You know that." Jim sipped at his beer and leaned back, long legs sprawling under the table. He glanced at his young companion. "I like it here in the daytime. Quiet, not a lot of people. During the week, there's a jazz combo that plays till about midnight, weekends a little rock, a little jazz, a little blues."
"Sounds like a nice little place." Blair sipped his beer, watching the big man watch him. Jim broke his gaze first, hiding behind his mug. "So, you said you weren't a student, not an actor. So what do you do?"
"Still playing twenty questions?" Blair smiled, put his glass down. "What's your best guess?"
"I wouldn't want to say rent boy, might offend. Rock star?"
Blair chuckled again. "Nope. But rock star sounds intriguing. Would you be my groupie, or roadie?"
"Do you always flirt with strange men?"
"Nope, just the ones that make my heart hurt. My turn. You said you were shipping out. Where?"
"If I tell you, I'll have to kill you." At Blair's astonished reaction, Jim laughed. "Peru. Hopefully, not for a long tour, but with the Army you never know. My turn. Are you gay?"
Blair coughed around his beer, grabbed a napkin and kept coughing. Jim finally patted him on the back.
"Are you all right?"
Blair nodded, tears running down his face. "Talk about catching a guy off guard." He coughed again, cleared his throat. "I never answered to labels, Jim. The package doesn't make any difference to me, it's the heart and soul that counts. Yourself?"
Jim shrugged. "Let's just say that if it interests me, I don't turn it down."
Blair wiped at his eyes, still trying to get his breathing under control, then excused himself, spotting the men's room on the other side of the bar.
Jim watched the small body as it worked its way around the tables and chairs in the dim room, alternatively bemused and intrigued. Bob approached, sitting another mug on the table and unfolded the magazine that was tucked under his arm.
"Do you know who he is?"
"I just met him. Seems like a nice guy. Friendly enough."
Bob opened the magazine and slid a full page ad under Jim's nose. "He's one of the hottest male models around right now. My wife drools over him every time she sees a picture of him."
Jim glanced up at the big bartender then looked at the photo, pulling it closer so he could see it better in the dim light. Blair was reclining on a leather sofa, wine glass in hand as if in a toast. He was draped in a soft blue silk robe, partially open, hinting at the chest underneath, the robe belt holding the robe so the crotch was in shadow, but the legs were exposed;, hair tucked behind one ear that sported a diamond stud earring. The line underneath advertised a men's jewelry collection, stating that even men loved diamonds. Looking closer, Jim could see a very masculine diamond ring on the hand that curled around the wine glass. Blair was smiling, as if he was watching a lover approach.
"You think you can get him to sign it, to my wife." Bob looked at Jim as he intently studied the photograph.
A soft voice interrupted him. "What's her name?"
Both men looked startled as Blair slid back into his chair next to Jim and took the magazine. Bob hurriedly pulled out a pen from a convenient pocket. "Uh, Carla."
Blair took the pen, scribbled 'to Carla, best wishes, Blair' with a peace symbol under his name and gave the pen and magazine back to the bartender.
Bob beamed at the small man who was grinning up at him. "Thanks. You have no idea how she'll flip when she sees this." He hurried back to the bar and picked up the phone.
Blair nodded and finished his ale. He looked at his companion. "So, now you know. Any comments?"
"Nope. Do you get to keep the diamonds?"
"Don't I wish."
Jim pushed the second beer away. "Wanta get out of here?"
"Sure." He followed Jim to the bar, started to pull out his wallet, but Bob waved it away. "Anytime you're in town, stop by. Sooner or later you'll have to meet my wife. Jim, don't be a stranger. I heard you're shipping out. Be careful, man."
"Always, Bob. Tell Carla I said hello."
Outside, Jim looked from the jeep to the Jag. "I've always wanted to ride in one of those." Blair tossed him the keys. "It's your city. Just don't kill it. It belongs to the agency."
"Where would you like to go?"
Blair shrugged as he climbed into the passenger seat. "It's your town. Show me the sights."
Jim settled into the Jag's seat, adjusted the car to fit him and roared out of the parking lot with a gleam in his eye. On the street, he glanced at his companion. "Feel adventurous?"
"Jim, I've been stuck in a rut for a long time. Having a day without people fawning all over me is an adventure. Being with you is an adventure."
"Good." He pulled off the nearest exit and turned the car north until they were out of the city. As soon as they left civilization behind, Jim took another exit, followed by two more until they ended up at the edge of a state park. Blair watched the scenery, commenting on the huge mountains, snow gleaming from the peaks and the tall trees that blocked out the sun as they left the main highway and entered the wilderness. Finally, Jim found the road he wanted and parked the car in a parking lot looking over a lush valley.
"Where are we?"
"Olympia State Park. Let's go for a walk."
Blair climbed out the car, stretched and inhaled the clean air. "This is so beautiful, man." He came around and took the keys from Jim, popping the trunk and grabbing a windbreaker, then locking the car. He stood and surveyed the valley below them. The sun highlighted all the various shades of green and the wind whistled through the needles. He could smell the life in the wilderness and he turned to Jim with a huge smile. "Lead on, man."
Jim didn't hesitate as he started off down the trail, then stopped, returning to his companion's side and taking Blair's hand. "Can't have you getting lost. The modeling world would lynch me." Blair's hand felt good in his, but he had to slow his pace so the smaller man could keep up. They were silent until the forest swallowed all signs of civilization except for the path.
"So, Blair Sandburg, supermodel, tell me; who are you?"
Blair laughed. As they walked, they got to know each other, comparing life stories and future plans, as much as an army captain and a model could predict. Jim kept Blair's hand in his and somewhere along the path, Blair realized that he was letting Jim set the course of the conversation, as well as the rest of the day. He scolded himself. Once again, he'd given up control of his day to someone else. But looking sideways at his companion, he decided that it wasn't such a bad idea for the moment. They reached an overlook, safely barricaded with cedar fencing and Jim leaned against it, eyes closed, lungs deeply inhaling. Blair followed his example, amazed at the different scents on the air. When was the last time he wanted to inhale to the bottom of his lungs?
"What am I smelling, Jim?"
"Freedom, Blair. Along with oak, pine, spruce, alders, cottonwood, fireweed, dandelions, moss, dead leaves, grass." He turned and leaned his back against the rail, chuckling at Blair's surprised expression. "It's what you would smell, if you could tell one tree from other by scent, or if you could catalog a forest by smell." Jim turned his face to the afternoon sun, eyes closed. "Freedom; what I fight for. What I protect."
Blair watched the older man, quietly awed at the warrior in front of him. He stepped closer, dared to lean against the hard body. "You really are a warrior, aren't you? Someone who believes in what he is fighting for. The pursuit of life, liberty, and justice." The strong arms came around his waist, and Jim looked down at the young man. "The strong protect the weak. Always."
Blair looked into the crystal eyes that were studying his. His heart beat in his throat and he had to swallow around it. "I'm not weak, Jim."
"No, I can see that. There is a strength inside of you that remains hidden, waiting to be tapped." His searching gaze left the smoky eyes, traveled over the curly hair, down the slim neck and shoulders. Warm fingers followed the gaze, stroking so lightly that Blair shivered as the sensitive hair on the back of his neck was brushed. "Have you ever let anyone tap your strength, see the inner you?" Jim whispered, fingers stroking over the collarbone under the black tee shirt. "Or do you remain hidden, waiting for someone to say, here I am, want me, take me, love me? Being careful on who you choose, always hiding who you are?"
Blair shuddered. When had he given up control to this man? What was happening to him? He almost wanted to give into the moment, let someone take control. But that was what was wrong. Someone else was always in control. The arms around his waist felt so good, so right. The eyes studying his so intently seemed to be offering him more than a one night stand. His heart banged against his ribs just like the first moment that Jim had touched him. He groaned to himself. He'd fallen, hard and fast. //Why now? Why with someone that was impossible to keep?//
Blair swallowed hard, forced himself to step back, loosen his grip on the slender waist, peel himself off the hard body that seemed to mold to his.
Jim didn't say anything, just arched his brows at him, waiting for some type of answer.
Blair looked into the expectant face. It was open to him, honest, waiting for him to speak, tell Jim what was going on in his confused thoughts. //Don't give in, if you give in to your heart, you'll be pining after him when' he's long gone. Play the game, it's just a game.// "I thought I was picking you up for a fun evening, not to be analyzed."
"I didn't realize that I was analyzing you. I was just trying to get to know the side that the camera doesn't see. Does that scare you?"
Blair hugged himself. //When had he lost control of this situation?// They were talking, like they would still be seeing each other tomorrow, next week, next month, not just a fling that would fade into the mists like all the others. He looked at Jim, really seeing the man in front of him. He didn't know this guy, but inside, he wanted to, trust him, relax and be himself, just for once. Before the day ended and he put on the made up face that the world saw. He heard his voice, taking the coward's way out. "Let's go. I want some dinner."
Jim frowned, obviously disappointed in the response. "Sure. What would you like? Cascade has some great Chinese restaurants."
"I like Chinese." With that Blair turned back up the trail, starting back to the car, leaving Jim to stretch out his stride to catch up with him. Several long strides brought him to the younger man's side and they walked in silence back to the car. Blair leaned on the passenger door, head bowed for a moment. //Tell him the truth, Sandburg. For once in your sorry life, be honest with someone. He isn't out to get something. He's here because he wants to be.//.
"I'm sorry, Jim. Guess I just got a little overwhelmed for a moment. You weren't analyzing me. I'm just so used to being on guard all the time. It's the first time in a long time that someone wanted to know me, just as me, not a model or a fashion plate or a stepping stone." He ran his hands through his hair for a second, then offered the larger man a grin. "I promised I wouldn't give up control of my day to anyone, then here I was, giving up control to you. It scared me for a second and I was afraid that I'd gotten used to the idea of someone else being in control of my life. Does that make any sense?"
"It's the same with the military, Blair. You give up control to your superior, hope that the CO knows what he's doing when the crunch happens. You may not like it, but you deal with it until you get out or retire. I think the only time that you are really in control of your life and destiny, is either you own your company and you're the only employee, or you're independently wealthy and you spend your time exploring the world, going to different places, learning everything you can learn."
"Sounds like you have a few dreams."
"Every man has a dream. What's yours'?"
"Right now? Dinner, a hotel room and you."
Jim blushed, ducked his head. "Sounds like an easy dream to fulfill."
"Good." Blair opened the car door and dropped into the seat.
Dinner was Chinese, served in a restaurant tucked away from the mainstream of the city. Their table was outside, hidden under trees covered in tiny white lights, nestled next to a bubbling fountain that danced and sang water music at them. A warm bottle of sake smoothed the conversation and Jim found himself wiping tears from his eyes as Blair related his first attempt to eat with chopsticks.
He poured the last of the sake into the younger man's cup and sat back, nursing the tiny cupful he'd taken. "Did the owners ever forgive you?"
"Oh, we're good friends now. I persuaded the agency to use the restaurant as a backdrop in an ad campaign and they made lots of money off of it. Even now, if I show up for dinner, they give me a private corner and make sure that I'm not bothered." The waiter brought fortune cookies and coffee and Blair bowed to him, uttering something that Jim didn't understand. The little man looked surprised, then grinned, replying, bowing quickly and scurrying away. Blair served Jim the strong coffee and inhaled the aroma, smiling.
"What did you say?"
"I thanked him for the dinner, and asked for a warm bottle of sake to take with us."
"What language was that?"
"Mandarin. I speak just enough to get in trouble."
"Any others?"
"I can order dinner in seven or eight, cuss you out in a few more. But I'm only fluent in five."
The waiter hurried up with a bottle wrapped in a warm towel, bowing quickly to both men. Blair bowed back, handed him a credit card and signed the bill. "Only five? And here I thought models were only known for their bodies."
"It's a good cover, don't you think? If you do something incredibly stupid, you just smile and look pretty."
Jim was still laughing as they exited the restaurant. The valet brought the Jag around and Jim handed Blair into the car with a wink. He took the wheel and roared away into the darkness. "Where to?"
"Someplace expensive, private, with a suite that has a Jacuzzi." Blair turned large blue eyes on the driver and making a decision, cuddled close, laying his head on Jim's shoulder. "Do you mind?" //Please don't say you mind. If all I have is one night, I want as many memories as possible.//
Jim let go of the wheel and circled the smaller man's shoulder, pulling him closer, tighter. "Not at all. I'm just trying to come up with our destination." They drove along the crowded downtown street for a few minutes before Jim snapped his fingers. "Got it." He glanced down at the warm figure under his arm. "You wouldn't happen to have a phone with you?"
Blair slid free from the loose embrace and turned around, reached into the backseat of the Jaguar and found the bag of discarded clothes from earlier in the day. He pulled out his cell phone and turned it on. "Want me to dial?"
"Ask information for Cascade Towers." Jim pulled the Jaguar into a parking lot that overlooked the waterfront, finding a spot facing the reflecting waters, while Blair got the number and asked the operator to transfer the call. Then he handed the phone to Jim.
Blair halfway listened as Jim secured them a room for the evening, his eyes on the still waters of the bay. The lights of the city reflected off the blackness, giving everything around them an eerily glow that was beautiful. Jim turned off the phone, handed it back to his companion, then watched Blair watch the water's surface. "This city is beautiful at night," he commented. "There's something about reflections that draw the eye; you can't help but stop and look."
"I could say, you should see Paris in the spring, but I won't. That's such a cliche'."
"I've seen it, briefly." Jim shook his head. "Crowded, dirty, smelly, no thanks."
"Spoken like a true American. What about New York?"
"Same thing. Give me the Pacific Northwest anytime. There's still room to breathe, without stealing someone's air."
"What happens when Cascade becomes too crowded, dirty and smelly?"
"Don't know. Move to Alaska?" Jim pulled Blair back to his side, nosed through the dark curls, breathing the clean scent. He kissed the high forehead and when Blair's head dropped back onto his arm, his lips found the plush velvet lips of his companion for the first time.
For a moment Blair stopped breathing, shocked at the sensations that coursed through him as the warm mouth opened his. Only the lack of air on both of their counts forced him away. Blair felt his face go hot, his body flushed with arousal from just a kiss.
Jim looked at the flushed cheeks, rose lips, closed eyes. "I think we'd better go before I lose control and do something completely indecent in the parking lot."
Blair's eyes opened and he smiled, nodding.
They both chuckled and Jim started the car, easing the Jag back onto the city street and headed for the needle-topped tower that pointed into the dark sky, the spire the brightest landmark in the city.
The eager valet took control of the Jag after Jim tossed him the keys, then the Ranger crossed to join Blair on the sidewalk in front of the glass filled lobby. Blair watched the car disappear into the parking garage.
"Think I'll ever see it again?"
"Are you worried?"
Blair shook his head, then preceded Jim into the lobby, nodding at the doorman as the door opened in front of them, feet silent on the plush carpet as he stepped across the threshold. Jim followed silently, suddenly aware that neither man looked like they belonged here. Jeans and flannel did not fit with the brass and glass surroundings. The lobby opened into a small mall, filled with expensive shops and boutiques, tempting the clientele to never leave the building for their shopping needs. Blair strolled to the reception counter like he owned the hotel, pulled out a credit card and with a quick, low voiced transaction with the woman behind the sign marked 'reservations', took the room card keys. With a smile and welcome, the suited reception clerk pushed a button for the elevator next to the counter and the doors slid open, a muted 'ding' announcing its presence. The elevator doors closed behind them silently and the car started its smooth ascent to the top floor. Blair took the opportunity to slip his arms around the Ranger from behind and lay his head on the broad back.
"I hope that you don't have high expectations just because of the reputations that models tend to have."
"What reputations are those?" Jim turned in the arms wrapped around him, looked into the smoky blue eyes.
"You know; experienced, aggressive, demanding, spoiled."
"Really? I had no idea." Jim arched his eyebrows, then grinned, added a chuckle. "And here I was thinking that you were the brainy type and when you weren't working, you were hidden away with a book, only coming out to tease all your rich admirers."
Blair grinned. "Darn! Busted! My clever disguise is blown. Whatever will I do?" The doors slid apart and they were reflected in the floor length mirror across the hall from the elevator doors. Jim didn't quite tower over the model, but his brawn stood out sharply in the hidden lights and Blair, catching a glimpse of the Ranger out of the corner of his eye, saw a barely contained animal, clothed in civilization. He blinked and the image was gone, replaced by a strong back and ass, long legs in black denim and a tight camo tee shirt that emphasized well muscled arms. They left the elevator arm in arm, Blair reading the room numbers on the doors until he found theirs, a corner suite with a view of the bay. Inside the plush suite, Blair kicked off his shoes and rushed to the tall windows, sweeping the curtains back so the night view filled the entire wall. He didn't unlock the sliding glass door, not tempted at all by the balcony jutting out from the building.
Jim closed the door behind them, and threw the deadbolt, then found the dials that brought the recessed lights up to a dim glow. He looked around the room. It was decorated in pale tones of blue and green, beige carpet and dark blue furniture with green accents. There was a sitting area with two couches surrounding a coffee table, a large entertainment center and bar, four bar stools nestled under the leather bar. The sitting area lead into a large bedroom with a king sized bed, another entertainment center and two plush chairs on either side of the walk-in closet. The bathroom wasn't visible from where Jim stood. Blair turned from his study of the bay. "This is really beautiful, Jim, but we forgot something."
'What's that?" He walked behind the bar, broke the seal on the refrigerator and studied the contents. Lots of very sweet snacks, assortment of juices, bottled water and a nice assortment of liquors. Maybe later. He looked up as Blair perched himself on the bar stool.
"We left the sake in the car. Guess I'd better call room service."
Jim came around behind his new companion, wrapped his arms around the slender waist and bit on an ear. "Tell you what. While you do that, I'll see if I can't find the Jacuzzi and set it up. Join me?"
"Love to." Blair leaned back against the firm chest, and took the long kiss when it was offered, sucking on the agile tongue until he had to come up for air. "You're awesome, did you know that?"
"Flattery will get you anything you want, Chief." Jim stroked through the short curls, watched them curl around his fingers. He kissed the model again, then forced himself away from the warm body and headed into the bedroom.
Blair watched him go, then grabbed the phone off the bar and hit 0. He asked for room service, ordered their most expensive bottle of champagne, a tray of assorted cheeses and fruits, extra towels. He nodded to the phone and sat it down, hearing the sound of water as it splattered against porcelain. He followed the sound, found Jim perched on the edge of a four person whirlpool tub, sampling the temperature and pouring most of a bottle of shampoo into the foaming water, bubbles beginning to rise around the flowing water.
"That looks nice." Blair leaned on the bigger man, sampled a solid neck with a lick, followed by a nibble on an earlobe. Jim slid his arm around his soon to be lover, pulled the compact body against his legs and sucked on the nimble tongue that was trying to suffocate him by ramming down his throat. Blair's hands were kneading his shoulders and he could hear the younger man moaning against him as he slid his hands down the model's sides, across his hips and then under the firm ass, gripping hard.
Their play was interrupted by the doorbell. Jim sat his new toy on his feet. "Be right back." He took a second to rearrange himself, grimacing in pain at his overly tight jeans. Blair watched him go, then started skimming out of his clothes.
When Jim returned with the tray of goodies, champagne and glasses, he found Blair settled into the swirling warm water, relaxed against the furthest wall and watching him with hugely dilated eyes. Jim looked around, finally settled the tray on the commode, handed the bottle to Blair.
"Why don't you lower the lights, strip out of those clothes and join me." Blair's voice was a husky order and Jim smiled, before finding the light controls and adjusting them so that the lighting over the tub was a soft glow. He reached into the bedroom, dialed a light a little brighter in there so they could see their way around the furniture. Then he turned back and watched Blair as he stretched, one slender leg appearing out of the bubbles for a moment, a square hand slicking down the hair that covered the alabaster skin before it disappeared again.
Jim pulled his tee shirt loose from the black jeans, started to work it over his rippled stomach, eyes on his partner. The graceful movements were shattered when a handful of water and bubbles landed on him, soaking the fabric. "Oooh, wet t-shirt contest! Do I get to pick the winner?" Blair was laughing as the camouflaged fabric was pulled over wet skin.
Jim pulled the wet shirt over his head, slowly twisted the fabric, wringing drops of cold water over Blair's naked shoulders. Blair shivered.
"You promised to make me hot, man, not give me goosebumps!" The wet lump of fabric was batted away, landing against a wall in a corner.
Jim unbuttoned his jeans, slid the zipper down, then peeled open the waist. He grinned, then turned his back on the figure reclining in the tub, hooking his fingers in the waist and easing the tight fabric down, an inch at the time, rotating his hips as he did.
Blair untwisted the wire on the basket over the champagne cork, ripped the paper away and started working the cork out, his eyes fastened on Jim's ass as each inch was revealed.
The jeans slid down; Jim was commando and Blair groaned as a hard muscled cheek was exposed. Jim's actions froze when he heard the cork pop, then relaxed at the 'plop' in the water. He glanced over his shoulder at the champagne fountaining over Blair's hands.
"Is that what you're going to do to me? Make me erupt like that?"
Blair smiled. "Keep going, baby. Show me what you've got."
Jim eased his jeans over his ass, down the long thighs. Bending over so Blair could see the shadowed crack he kicked the jeans away. Jim turned, his erection bobbing in the soft light and slid into the tub, straddling Blair's lap, facing the sleek furred body.
"We forgot the glasses." Jim started to get back out, but was stopped when Blair put a hand on a knee, holding him down.
"Who needs them?" He poured the bubbly across his chest and Jim reached forward, licking the foaming brew before it could escape into the whirling waters. He nipped at a tight nipple, then rescued the bottle before it could slide from the suddenly limp hands. He returned the favor, pouring it over his chest, then took a sip from the bottle, offering Blair his mouth for a kiss. Blair slid his tongue into the champagne filled mouth, drank eagerly, then pulled free, gliding his tongue down to a firm neck, over the collarbone and found a champagne flavored nub to suckle. He pulled away and whispered up to Jim's impassioned face.
"Ambrosia. And here I thought you said you had no imagination for love play." Jim arched his neck, groaned out between breaths. "I'm a fast learner."
Blair chuckled. He reached up, grabbed the firm head and pulled the open mouth down, sealing his lips to Jim's and pulling both under for a long moment before they surfaced for air.
Jim brushed the chestnut curls from his lover's face. Wet, they spiraled and corkscrewed in every direction, wrapping themselves around the fingers that tried to control them. He slid his hands down the furred chest, lightly brushing a hard nipple, down the line of hair, under the water to where a hard cock begged for attention, even in the warm water. The jets at the bottom of the tub gave him an idea and he maneuvered both of them until a jet was underneath Blair's ass and the pressured water bubbled against the flesh suspended there.
Blair hissed against Jim's demanding lips. "You keep that up and we'll never make it to bed."
"Don't want that." Jim agreed, eased himself off Blair's lap, stood up, his water slicked body gleaming in the dim light. He lifted his new lover to his feet and grabbed towels. He wrapped Blair in a towel, threw one around his neck and stepped carefully onto the water splashed floor, holding Blair's hand while he did the same. Then he led his companion to the king size bed. He grabbed another towel from the stack that room service had delivered and patted the sleek body dry, ruffling through the dark curls that were plastered to Blair's head. He tossed the comforter to the floor, and settled his lover on the cool sheets.
Blair looked up at the statue that he'd been blessed to meet. "You could model for Da Vinci, did you know that? How did I get so lucky?"
Jim swiped his towel over himself briefly, tossed it aside. "I was thinking the same thing." He eased himself down over his partner, nestling his body between the open legs, hands brushing over arms, down to strong hands and back again. "You are beautiful, Blair. All your lovers tell you that, don't they?"
Blair brushed his hand over the buzz-cut, letting his palm tickle the stiff hair. "I haven't had a lover in a long time, just 'brief interludes'."
Jim nibbled on a rib, ran his tongue over the soft belly hair. "That's sad, Blair. Someone as beautiful as you deserves someone that would worship you, pamper you." He sucked on a hip bone, leaving a rose colored mark. Blair's hands were on his shoulders, neither guiding or hindering, just kneading up and down, while he moaned under Jim's talented tongue.
"Too busy," Blair whispered between moans. "Always on the go, somebody always demanding something. Can't let my guard down." His hands were running over Jim's hair, down his neck and over his shoulders, rubbing and stroking. Jim was finding all the places that he loved being touched. It was almost like he had a road map to Blair's erogenous zones and was plotting his way down Blair's body.
Blair wrapped his legs around Jim's thighs, wiggled around until he was comfortable, with Jim's flat stomach nesting his cock. Jim licked the tiny belly button, blew across it and watched the stomach muscles quiver, then did it again. He felt Blair's cock nestle against his sternum and he slid further down, letting the broad, slick head, butt him under the chin, where he pressed it against his neck and let the slickness of it glide over the thin skin under his chin. He smelled the musty smell of an aroused Blair and without warning tried to swallow the hard flesh whole. Blair screamed at the sensation of hot warmth taking him deep into his lover's throat.
"Jimmm!"
Jim couldn't answer, his mouth was full. He slid his tongue up and down the column, swirled the head, came back to the pulsing vein then deep throated the long column, holding his breath as long as he could before releasing it again. Then he started over, until Blair trembled and shook, legs shaking as the release built. Jim felt it coming, and took all he could, relaxing his throat so the first pulse of warm fluid slid down without stopping.
The body heaved under him, then collapsed, panting, spent. Jim looked up at the glazed eyes. Blair smiled, still trying to regain his breath. Jim went to his knees, stalked up the limp body until he was kneeling over Blair's face and offered his own cock for worship. Blair didn't need any encouragement. Warm hands caressed his balls, tickled his ass. A wet tongue slid over the head, back, forth, around and then the head disappeared into Blair's mouth. Blair shifted around, finding a comfortable position so he could take all of Jim in and love him as he'd been loved.
Jim braced himself against the wall, trying not to pump the wonderful mouth wrapped around him. His legs trembled at the strain of not moving. He was to excited; he couldn't last. "Blair, Chief, please, gonna...gonna. Oh...baby...oh!" And then he was gone, spiraling away into an explosion that collapsed his body against the wall and then down into the bed.
The room was silent except for the mens' panting breaths. Finally Jim rolled over and propped himself up and stared at the young man who was now his lover. "Blair? You all right?"
Blair nodded, smiled, eyes glowing in the dim light. "Wow."
"Wow? I rated a 'wow'?" Jim flopped back on the bed. "I don't think I have ever rated a wow before." He looked at the ceiling instead of the man beside him.
"Okay, how about 'double wow'?" Blair propped himself up on an elbow, and with one finger, traced a vein on Ellison's arm. "Been a long time since I've been with a man, Jim. Thank you." Blair watched his finger travel the length of the muscled arm. //What now? The standard line, 'this was great, but?'//
"Is that my cue to leave?" Ellison's voice was rough.
Blair felt the muscle under his finger go rigid. "Aww, no man. Just stating a fact." He reached over, turned Jim's head toward him, kissed the firm lips. "Give me a few minutes to recover and let's do it again." He smiled his most winsome smile, used the tip of his tongue to outline the square chin, feel the beginning of day old stubble. "Maybe, with the edge off, we can last a little longer."
"Maybe." He caught the wondering hand and pulled the smaller body over him, draping Blair so their eyes met.
Blair's eyes were twinkling, soft with sexual satisfaction. He met Jim's kiss halfway and the two men kissed a long time, exchanging long, breath stealing kisses, soft pecks, threatening nips. Blair's hands played over Jim's chest, agile fingers tracing the hard muscles there. Jim had his hands on Blair's ass, massaging the soft cheeks, feeling the smooth skin under his callused hands. Blair spread his legs, opening himself further to Jim's exploration. Jim slid two fingers down the exposed crack, tracing the small opening there, then further down the soft skin containing the testicles, tickling the hair that covered them. Blair wiggled, and his suddenly hard cock was rubbing against Jim's hip.
Jim arched into the firmness, grinning at the intake of air from his lover. "Like that, do you?" he whispered. He reached between them, gripped the hard cock that was pressed against his hip and joined it with his, letting his lighter partner set the pace as they rubbed together. The slickness from both men eased the way and soon the friction turned into a warm glide of flesh against flesh.
Jim threw his head back and almost yelled as the orgasm roared through him for the second time, his hands gripping Blair's arms as the spasms rattled his body. His cry was answered a second later as Blair arched against him and with a hard thrust came against his ridged belly. His companion dropped on him, cementing them together with their fluids acting as glue.
Jim kissed a convenient ear, got a mouthful of hair and almost laughed as he pulled it out of his mouth. "My turn for 'wow' this time."
Blair grunted. He pushed off the hard body, looked down at the mess between them, then met the crystal blue eyes that were watching him. "Come shower with me. I'll wash your back." He reached down to the floor and found a towel thrown there earlier and wiped the worst of the cooling liquid off of him.
Jim raised up on both elbows and watched Blair wipe at his hairy chest and stomach. The younger man finished with himself, started on Jim. "Not one for pillow talk, are you?" Jim's tone sounded disappointed.
Blair stopped, looking up into the Ranger's eyes. He suddenly found himself lacking in this man's eyes. "Uh, no, as a matter of fact. I don't think I have been with anyone that is."
Jim gripped the arm closest to him and pulled Blair back into the bed. "Then let me introduce you to a little 'pillow talk'." He snuggled Blair to him, nestled a leg over a hip, a shoulder under Blair's head. "You should always take time to cuddle and relax after making love, not run off to the next appointment. Running away is bad form."
Blair's laugh rumbled through him. "Really? Bad form? Sounds absolutely disgusting." One hand was stroking Ellison's leg. //He wants more than sex. From me? Could he be the one?//
"It is. It might give you a reputation of 'love 'em and leave 'em' or 'slam, bam, thank ya mam'. Both which must be avoided at all costs." Jim's hand was in Blair's hair, twisting a curl around and around.
"What about the dreaded 'morning after'?"
Jim looked at the face that was looking up at him, expression open and earnest. He kissed the slightly upturned nose. "Well, it's been my experience that 'morning afters' can be really pleasant if you were very good the night before. But you should always treat your lover as someone very special the next morning, even if it is a one night stand. Your lover shared their body with you. That's a gift that is something that shouldn't be thrown away."
Blair was silent, but his hand didn't stop moving. "I've always felt like I'd done something wrong, the next morning," he whispered, "never cherished or special."
Jim kissed him, sweetly, chastely, then again, passionately. "That's because you slept with someone for all the wrong reasons." He rubbed up and down Blair's back. "I bet it was always, or just about always," he amended his statement, "someone who thought sleeping with you would boost their careers, or a mark on the bedpost, or maybe because they thought you'd be interested for something long term. But never about love."
Blair slid off the hard body, looking hard at Jim as he sat up. "I know what love is."
"I didn't say that. I just said that you deserved to be treated special, by whomever you decide to share your body with." Jim sat up, reached for the young model, pulled him against his chest and wrapped his arms around him. "Guess I'm not very good at pillow talk either. Single military men have a tendency to get morbid after making love to a god." He chuckled softly and shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry. You still want that shower?"
Blair nodded and they crawled off the bed, Blair throwing the comforter back on it as Jim headed for the bathroom and warm running water. Blair joined the older man in the huge shower, letting himself be hugged and kissed as the water poured over them.
"I didn't mean to upset you." Jim whispered into an ear. "I think you're a beautiful man, and a wonderful lover. Don't sell yourself short." He poured shampoo into his hands, rubbed them together, then into Blair's wet curls, then over his own buzz cut. They finished their shower in silence. When Blair turned the water off and stepped out, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, then another one and began drying off Jim. He worked up Jim's long legs, around to his back, over the sculptured ass cheeks and up the well defined back. Jim grabbed the towel, wrapped it around his waist, then captured Blair before he could walk away.
"If I could, I think I might fall in love with you. But it's not possible, right now. You deserve someone to love you."
//Oh, God. I've already fallen.// "And if I could, I'd let you." Blair wrapped his arms around the tall body, holding the damp skin to him. //What would you say if I said I love you?// "Ships that pass in the night, right?"
"Something like that." A yawn broke free and Jim turned his head away, trying hard not to let his mouth open until his jaw popped and failed.
Blair chuckled. "Come on big guy, let's get some sleep." He draped his arm around Ellison's waist and they fell into the big bed together.
Blair woke long before dawn. A warm body was spooned up behind him, a strong arm around his waist, breath on his neck. He was startled, and at the same time pleased. It had been so long since he'd slept with someone. He pushed back against the warmth, and was rewarded with a large hard cock nestling between his ass cheeks. He froze at the intimate touch. //I'm not ready for this. I've never done this!//
A sleepy voice whispered in his ear. "Don't be afraid love. I'm just getting comfortable. You're just so desirable, he can't help wanting more." A kiss dusted his ear. Blair relaxed, settled deeper into the bed and pillows. The arm around his waist pulled him tighter. //Thank you, Jim.//
Blair woke the second time to find himself draped across a hard chest, a hand grasping his ass. He lifted his head, looking around. The drapes were still open and the morning sun was peeking over a tower. //What time is it? Where am I? Oh, yeah, hotel. Cascade Towers, Jim. Jim?// He looked at the sleeping face under him, then started to slide off the body. A hand tightened on his ass, and he was rolled to his side. Jim's eyes were open, blinking sleepily.
"Morning." Jim groaned, then reached for the smaller body, wrapping both legs around the firm thighs, rubbing his morning erection against the one that was nudging his stomach. Blair hesitated. But the look of happiness in the crystal eyes broke any reservations he had and he kissed the other man, wrapping his arms around the solid neck. "Jim. Good morning."
Jim had his hands in the other man's hair, kissing and rubbing himself against the compact body. "You are beautiful, even in the morning with your hair going everywhere." He rolled himself on top his lover, slowly rocking. "A joy to wake up to."
"I'm flattered." Blair arched his neck, letting the lips that were worshiping him have full access, feeling the passion marks that were being left behind. Jim's hands were all over him and his mouth followed. He grasped when teeth bit a nipple lightly, then sucked it, biting again, before cool air was blown over it. A large hand was stroking him, teasing him, stoking again. Blair cried out, arching into the touch.
"You are so responsive." The voice was lower, warm air on his pubic hair. "I wish I dare take you. If I took you, I'd never want another." Blair froze. "I don't have anything," he whispered. //If you insisted, we'd figure out something!//
"That's okay, neither do I." Jim raised his head. "But the next time we're together, I'll be ready." He licked the long cock, sucked the rose head into his mouth.
Blair arched into the touch, tried not to pump. "Next time?" he mumbled between pants. Jim didn't answer, just nodded.
Blair reached down, hands on Jim's shoulders. "Turn around. Let me taste you."
Jim complied and they settled into a comfortable 69 position, each pleasuring the other. Passion built under hands and mouth until both were moaning. Blair pulled away from Jim's hard cock, stroking it with his hand while he cried out a warning and exploded in Jim's mouth. He felt Jim's impending release and wrapped his mouth around the head as it pulsed, using his tongue to feel the spasms at the base. Finally he swallowed all of Jim's essence and pulled away, panting.
"You've got a wonderful mouth." Jim whispered from his spot on Blair's thigh. He kissed it, stroking the soft skin and softer hair. Then he lifted himself up and turned around, coming back to Blair's side and dropped his head on the model's shoulder.
"You do too." Blair stroked the short hair. "Thank you."
Jim looked at him, eyebrows on the rise. "What for?"
"For being here this morning, for giving me a pleasant morning after. Usually, it's get up, get dressed, get out. No conversation, no gentle morning love. If my partner isn't running, it's me."
Jim kissed his nose. "I would always give you a pleasant morning." He sat up, scooted off the bed. "But if you'll excuse me, nature calls." He padded into the bathroom and Blair watched the sculptured ass until it disappeared. Then Blair crawled off the bed, headed for the bar and found the coffee maker. When Jim came out of the bathroom, fastening his jeans and barefoot, he found his lover perched on the barstool, still as naked as the day he was born, talking on the phone, sipping coffee.
Blair acknowledged Jim's presence and pushed a mug of coffee toward him, followed by a tray containing sugar, cream and artificial sweetners. Then he turned his attention back to the phone.
"No, Todd, I'm not coming back right away. I'm just checking in. No, you don't need to know where I am. I'm fine, the car is fine, I'm still in the city. My first appointment isn't until 3 this afternoon. I'll be at the agency in plenty of time." Blair turned to Jim, lowered the phone and demanded a kiss. Jim could hear 'Todd" whining over the open phone line. Blair put it back to his ear. "Todd, Todd, listen to me. I'm a grown man. I don't need a baby-sitter. I'll see you at the agency at 2pm. Just have the clothes that I'm supposed to be wearing there and tell Grace no more hair gel." He hung up and focused entirely on Jim.
"Sorry about the phone call but I figured if I didn't check in, Todd would have the police looking for me. He's such a worry hen."
Blair stood up and kissed Jim soundly. "I was going to order breakfast, but I didn't know what you would like. I figured coffee was a safe bet."
Jim was still tasting Blair's mouth, coffee almost covering the morning breath. He liked it and pulled the model in for another kiss. "Coffee is good. And anything is fine for breakfast. What time is it anyway?"
"10ish. " Blair pulled a menu off the bar and started looking at it. Jim looked over his shoulder, pointed out a couple of things he didn't care for and then took the phone away from the younger man.
"Go get cleaned up, I'll take care of this."
Blair excused himself and disappeared into the bathroom with his coffee. By the time he got back, Jim was completely dressed. Blair, wearing his jeans unfastened, brushed his hair with a wet brush, trying to make the ringlets behave in some type of fashion. He caught Jim's reflection in the mirror and offered a shy smile. "Went to sleep with it wet and can't do a thing with it. Is breakfast on the way?"
Jim reached around Blair and pulled him to his chest, nibbled on the long neck. "I found breakfast right here."
Blair dropped his head to Jim's shoulder and accepted the taller man's kiss, sucking on the quick tongue when it was offered. Warm hands were twisting his nipples and he groaned. "Jim, what you do to me..."
Jim let him go, turned him around. He had his hands in Blair's hair when a knock on the door announced breakfast. Blair broke away from the increasingly passionate kisses to answer the door and let the waiter in. Jim poured them both coffee as the waiter sat up a table and dishes for them, then made a quick exit.
Blair uncovered an assortment of breakfast items, stuck a fork in a piece of melon and chewed on it. "Not bad. Come on over here and eat Jim. There's eggs and bacon, waffles and fruit, two types of juices, some yogurt. Dig in." He snagged a strawberry and bit into it, licking the juice off his lips.
Jim watched as Blair nibbled at the food, noting that he sampled several things but didn't eat much. Of course, he was a model, and he was probably always being growled at about his weight. Jim grabbed a dish and loaded it up.
Blair came around behind him, rubbed his shoulders as Jim ate, licked his neck and sucked on his ear. "Do you have time to come back to bed?" he whispered in the ear he was laving.
Jim put down his food, reached around behind him and pulled the model into his lap for a kiss. "If I said yes, I'd be lying. If I climb back in bed with you, I might never get out again. And I have a thousand things to do before I ship out on Monday."
Blair nodded. "I thought as much. Duty calls and all that."
Jim nodded. "Would I be too forward if I said that I want to see you when I get back?"
Blair shook his head. "You said 'next time' earlier. You meant it?" His voice almost squeaked on the hope it held. "I'd like that a lot." Jim nodded and Blair found his wallet, dug out a card. "That's the agency, my secretary's number and my portable phone number." He placed the card in Jim's hand. "If you call the agency, I promise, wherever I am, I'll come to you." He tried to control his eagerness at the possibility. //How long can a tour last. I can wait, no matter how long!//
Jim looked into the smoky blue eyes. "That's a hell of a promise, Chief."
"You're a hell of a man, Jim Ellison."
Jim finished his breakfast in silence, watching Blair dress. The model's neck and shoulders were covered with passion marks and he knew that he wore just as many if not more. Then breakfast was finished, and there was nothing left to do but leave.
Blair walked with Jim to the front of the lobby and motioned for the doorman to get Jim a cab. He turned and looked into Jim's eyes. His heart was hurting in his chest.
"I promised myself I wouldn't make a scene, Jim. But I really don't want you to leave. Being with you felt so right."
"I know." Jim whispered. He took the smaller man into his arms, hugged him tight. "I told you, you would be very easy to fall in love with." He set Blair on his feet, touched two fingers to Blair's chin. "I'll call you the instant I get back in the states."
Blair looked into the earnest blue eyes. "I believe you, Jim. I'll be waiting."
Jim stepped into the cab and looked back with a wave.
Blair watched the cab until it melted into traffic, then went to pay their bill.