Gentleman Nine

  He leaned in, suddenly seeming less unsure of himself and more direct. “I don’t want to forget it. What you may not realize is that I want you in the exact same way.”

  To say I was surprised to hear him say that was an understatement. Especially given the reemergence of gorgeous Emily. I never expected to hear Channing say those words—that he wanted me.

  “You want me? What about Emily?”

  “I was with her last night. We were about to…you know…and I couldn’t. I was thinking about you—about this. So, that was my moment of clarity. I stopped it and left her apartment. I stayed up all night thinking.”

  “About this? What is this exactly? What are you trying to say?”

  “I know you don’t want anything serious. Neither do I. But we’re both adults who respect each other and are clearly attracted to each other. I only have a limited time left in Boston. Why not let me give you what you need while I’m here.”

  I swear, this felt like a dream, like it wasn’t really happening. There wasn’t a hint of amusement in his expression. Channing was seriously propositioning me. As much as I wanted to dismiss it, to tell him he was out of his mind, another part of me became increasingly curious—aroused. But this wasn’t as simple as he was making it out to be.

  “You’re suggesting I try to pretend that you’re just no one to me? How exactly could this work, Channing?”

  “We would have to set ground rules. Keep our personal relationship separate from our sexual relationship.”

  “And how do we do that when we live together?”

  “We could meet here, say on Saturdays, and we wouldn’t discuss it the rest of the week. We wouldn’t have to discuss it at all. No one will know about this but us. And I promise never to tell Rory. I assume his ever finding out would be your biggest hesitation.”

  I just kept shaking my head back and forth in an attempt to process everything. “What do you get out of this?”

  “I get to be with the girl I’ve fantasized about since I was sixteen.”

  Since he was sixteen?

  “I never knew you felt that way.”

  “I hid it very well. But I’ve always been attracted to you.”

  My gut was telling me that I was crazy for considering this, but my body couldn’t be calmed. It was completely buzzing at the thought of being with him. Everything was suddenly magnified—his scent, the nearness of his perfect body. I wasn’t sure if I had the strength to say no, because there was no bigger turn on than being wanted.

  My voice cracked. “I really don’t know if this is a good idea.”

  “You don’t have to make a decision now. Take some time to think about it. No hard feelings if you decide against it. We’ll forget this night ever happened. I promise if you tell me no, we can pretend this conversation never took place. And as much as I hope you don’t, if you decide to contact the real Gentleman Nine, I promise not to judge you or interfere, either.”

  As mad as I was at him, his showing up here was a reality check. A part of me was actually relieved to be sitting here with Channing now and not some male hooker. The longer we sat in this bar, the crazier it seemed that I had come here tonight to pay for sex. At least with Channing, I felt safe.

  The idea of unbridled sex with him was extremely tempting. To know that he wanted me, too, made me feel sexier than I had in a long time.

  But I still couldn’t believe this. And he certainly wasn’t going to get an answer tonight. This would change the entire dynamic of our relationship.

  It would change my life.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  * * *

  CHANNING

  Apparently, one sure-fire way to get Amber to avoid you is to suggest a sexual relationship. Noted.

  The days that followed our meetup at The Peabody Hotel were tense, although the massive relief I felt as a result of having finally told her the truth about Gentleman Nine was the consolation. That was the first and last time I would ever lie to her.

  And she hadn’t kicked me out of the house or anything. So, that was a plus. Amber also hadn’t given me a solid no, either. She’d left the door open to accepting my offer. The last thing she said to me before we left the hotel was that she’d think about it. My body unfortunately chose to focus on that. Whenever we were in the same room, I could feel myself getting turned on from just thinking about the prospect of getting to have sex with her. The fact that she somehow felt it was wrong, made me want it even more. The more forbidden, the sweeter the fruit.

  Wednesday night, I’d just gotten home from work when she called my cell.

  “Oh, you’re home. Thank God,” she said, sounding out of breath.

  “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

  She was panicked. “I need your help.”

  A rush of adrenaline hit me. “Tell me what’s happening.”

  “I’m around the corner with Milo. I was out with him. I’d taken him to a restaurant, and he spilled split pea soup all over his shirt. Since we were closer to my place than his, I figured I would take him back here and borrow one of your shirts. But now, he’s decided to drop to the ground. He’s lying on the sidewalk, and I can’t get him up. He’s too big for me to lift.”

  Shit.

  Already making my way out the door, I said, “I’ll be right there.”

  “Thank you. We’re at the corner of Stockton and East Streets.”

  Amber looked flustered as I approached them. She was huffing and puffing, blowing air up into her bangs, which she often did when she was stressed. Milo, on the other hand, was just sitting on the sidewalk chilling and playing with his iPad as people passed by obliviously, practically walking right over him.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey.” She sighed.

  I knelt down. “’Sup, Milo. What’s happening? You don’t want to come hang with us at our place?”

  He immediately gripped my head and pulled me into his nose as he sucked in a long whiff of my hair.

  His attention then returned to his iPad. A few seconds later, I noticed he had put on a clip of Archer. He must have pulled it up quickly in his YouTube history.

  “Does he ever play Archer when I’m not around?”

  “Never.” She grinned.

  Putting my hand on his shoulder, I said, “You’re one complex dude, you know that?”

  Of course, he said nothing in response.

  I reached for his hand. “Come on, Milo.”

  Amber was laughing at my attempt to get him up in that way. “If it was that easy, I wouldn’t have had to call you.”

  I scratched my head. “Alright.” Moving behind him, I looped my arms under his and forced him up. Lifting him was a Herculean task. Dude was heavy. And I was a big guy. But he was all dead weight, because he wasn’t helping me at all.

  Once on his feet, he wrapped his arm around me as we walked. I was certain people thought we were a couple. Amber walked alongside us with a huge smile on her face.

  “You enjoying this, Amber?”

  “I am.” She laughed. “Immensely.”

  Well, if there was one consolation to this, it was that Amber was now talking to me.

  Thank you, buddy, for breaking the ice between Amber and me. I owe you one.

  When we arrived home, I took Milo into my room and opened the closet.

  “Which shirt do you like?”

  He began taking some of my shirts off the hangers and throwing them on the closet floor before finally selecting a polo—the most expensive one.

  “That’s Armani. You have really good taste. Let’s see how it looks on you.”

  After pulling the soiled shirt over his head, I helped him put on the clean one. It fit him like a glove.

  “Nice. How about a little cologne?”

  I made the mistake of handing him the bottle. He proceeded to spray a shitload onto the shirt and his hair.

  “Okay, that’s enough.” I coughed.

  When we entered the living room, Amber was beaming. “Look
at you! Such a handsome guy.”

  “Thank you,” I joked. When she turned to me, I winked and she smiled back.

  This was good. She didn’t fucking hate me for lying and then propositioning her for sex.

  Then, she smelled him. “Oh, boy. Someone got a hold of the cologne. I should’ve warned you. He doesn’t know when to stop with certain things.”

  “I can kind of relate to that lately,” I said, hoping she understood that I was referring to my Gentleman Nine fuck-up.

  After we got Milo settled with a TV show, I turned to her. “How about I make dinner? What’s his favorite food?”

  “Everything.” She laughed.

  “Alright, then.”

  “Maybe skip the urge to cook something really weird tonight, though. He likes normal food.”

  “You got it.”

  “He actually really loves pasta and red sauce.”

  “Perfect. That’s easy enough. I can definitely whip up a good marinara.”

  Amber leaned against the counter and watched as I boiled the pasta and cooked up a simple sauce with canned tomatoes, basil, and a mixture of spices she had laying around in the cabinet. Milo stayed in the living room watching television.

  When we sat down for dinner, I watched in awe as Milo slurped up a massive plate of spaghetti in record time. He seemed so happy to be eating, taking joy in every bite. It only took him about five mouthfuls to completely demolish it. After he was finished, he abruptly got up.

  Amber grinned. “He likes to eat and run.”

  My eyes followed him as he returned to his spot in front of the television. “Where are his parents? How did he end up in that home?”

  She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “It’s just his mother. He’s too big, and she can’t handle him. So, she has him in the group home. It’s staffed twenty-four hours, so he always has someone there, and being in that environment helps to teach him independence, because you know, his mom’s not gonna be around forever.”

  Still watching him, I asked, “Do you think he’s happy?”

  “I do. He gets frustrated sometimes because of his inability to communicate his feelings, but overall he lives a different kind of life than we do. He doesn’t have an ego, nor is he concerned with what people think about him, so in many ways, that’s a blessing. It’s like all he needs are food and his favorite shows or YouTube videos, and he’s content with basic pleasures.”

  “Interesting. If only we could all learn to live that way, put our needs first, and not worry about the rest or what other people think.”

  Her face turned red. She definitely knew where I was coming from. I wasn’t even sure if I meant it to relate to our situation, but somehow it did.

  After Amber and I finished our own pasta, we joined Milo on the couch, one of us on each side of him.

  He was watching some bizarre animated show with a bunch of singing little girls.

  “What is this show?” I asked.

  “It’s called Kuu Kuu Harajuku. It’s a kids’ show. But he loves it.”

  “What’s the gist?”

  “Well, see those girls? They’re called Harajuku Girls because they live in Harajuku.”

  “Fascinating.” I looked at him and chuckled. “Why do you think he likes it?”

  “I suspect he appreciates the mayhem. These girls are musicians, and something is always getting in the way of their gigs. He sometimes laughs when they get into trouble. I think he likes their voices and the chaos. Either that, or maybe he just likes all the flashing colors.”

  “It is pretty trippy, reminds me of something I would’ve watched after smoking a bone down in my basement in high school.”

  “Yeah. You were a bad influence, Channing.”

  I flashed a mischievous grin. “Some things never change.”

  She intentionally made sure her eyes were glued to the cartoon after I’d said that.

  I took the time to admire her legs that she’d spread out atop the coffee table. They were so smooth and toned. I didn’t even think she had to shave because she had this thin layer of blonde hair covering them. I wanted to rub my hand along her skin to see what that peach fuzz felt like. Visions of those legs wrapped around my back floated through my head. Her perfect little toes were painted blood red. I wasn’t normally a foot man, but Amber’s toes looked good enough to eat. My mouth watered.

  Fuck. If she ended up saying no to me, I might never get her out of my system. My eyes continued to devour Amber’s legs.

  Suddenly, I felt a whack.

  And then he laughed.

  Milo had smacked me upside the head.

  I had no clue whether he was pissed that I was staring at Amber or what, but he’d definitely knocked me out of my trance.

  ***

  That night, it was well past midnight when I’d decided to use the bathroom before bed. Amber was already asleep—or so I thought. She ended up knocking right into me as she was leaving the bathroom while I was entering.

  “Are you okay?” My hands were on her shoulders. It was rare that I ever touched her.

  Her breathing quickened. My dick immediately responded based on her reaction to me.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” She looked up at me in the darkness. “I’ve been thinking about what you and I discussed at The Peabody.”

  My heartbeat sped up a little as I reluctantly slid my hands off of her. “Yeah?”

  “I’m still mad at you.”

  “Amb—”

  “Hear me out,” she insisted.

  “Alright.”

  “I’m mad…but I’m so glad it was you who showed up and not him. You were right. I would’ve regretted it. Thank you for intercepting what would have been a bad move on my part. Thank you for looking out for me.”

  “I’m relieved you feel that way.”

  “Like you said, there have to be some ground rules if we’re gonna do this.”

  My heart really started to accelerate now. Was she taking me up on my offer? My cock twitched. I had to keep my dick in check, especially since it was a dishonest motherfucker. It had been lying to me this entire time just to get what it wanted, trying to convince me that this situation was going to be simple when I knew damn well it wasn’t.

  “I agree that we have to have rules,” I said. “Tell me yours.”

  “I need to see proof that you don’t have any diseases, something from the doctor.”

  “That’s already been taken care of. That’s not a problem at all.”

  “I don’t want you sleeping with anyone else while we’re doing this.”

  “That’s a given. What else?”

  “You have to wear a condom.”

  Moving in closer to her, I said, “I’ll wear two if you want.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  My dick was officially getting hard. “Okay. Tell me more.”

  “We don’t utter a single word of this to anyone. It’s not just Rory I’m worried about. But I would never want like…say…your mother to know, either.”

  That made me laugh. “Why would I tell my mother?”

  “I don’t know.” She smiled. “Just don’t.”

  “Done. No one will know. Come on, give me more rules.” I wanted everything out on the table so she didn’t have any second thoughts later or want to back out.

  “I think that’s all I’ve got, actually. I feel like there should be more, but I can’t think of any at the moment.”

  “How about I help?” I said. “I’ve got a few.”

  “Okay…”

  “I alluded to this before, but a main rule is that we meet on Saturdays only. And we don’t take it home with us. We don’t talk about it during the week. I think that’s gonna be important. As much as we may be tempted, sex happens only in our hotel room on Saturdays, and any talk of what we’re doing stays there as well. That way, this arrangement won’t interfere with our day-to-day lives.”

  She nodded. “That’s smart.”

  “You also agree to trust me and
to tell me if I’m doing something that you don’t like. We need to communicate with each other, at least during the time that we’re there.”

  “I will.”

  “I’ll make all the arrangements.”

  “We can alternate the cost of the room by week,” she said.

  I held up my hand. “No. No way. I’ve got it.”

  “I want to pay.”

  “You can pay me back in other ways.” I winked. “Just kidding—maybe.”

  She rubbed her arms. “This is all so weird, Channing. I feel like the past week has been a dream.”

  “One more rule. There’s no pressure. If you’re having any doubts, you can change your mind at any time. No hard feelings.”

  As much as I meant that, I really hoped she didn’t back out, that she wanted this as much as I did.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  * * *

  AMBER

  “I still can’t get over the fact it was Channing all along.”

  “You and me both, Annabelle. You and me both.”

  Balancing the cordless phone on my shoulder, I picked out clothes for Saturday, packing them away in a small travel bag.

  The outfit I’d chosen consisted of a little black skirt and a nude-colored shirt with black lace overlay that always made my tits look really good. The fact that it was Rory’s favorite shirt was my little secret “fuck you” to my ex.

  “I swear,” she said. “I could write a book about your life in the past month, and it would sell like hotcakes. And we haven’t even gotten to the good part.”

  Throwing some sleep shorts into the bag, I said, “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. I always said I didn’t want to get involved with Channing, but technically this isn’t really getting involved. It’s just sex.”

  “I think the whole thing is sexy as hell. Not only was he trying to protect you, but he decided he wanted to be the man to do the job. My only question is…do you think you’ll be able to compartmentalize? I know you care about him. Can you really handle this?”

  Deep down, I was worried. But I still didn’t want to deny myself this opportunity. It had simply been too long since I’d been with a man, and I was too weak to resist.