Cast Off (22 page)

“I thought you worked for
Errant
.”

“I do.”

“But it’s a celebrity gossip site. And paranormal whatever. I kind of expected you’d wear jeans. Or cargo pants or something. Rock band T-shirts.”

Ian laughed. “You’ve described just about every one of my coworkers. But my department is responsible for bringing in the funds that support the site and pay the staff. There’s no way I’d be able to bring in the kind of advertising revenue that I do if I didn’t dress the part of your average successful businessman, at least on days where I have meetings with clients.”

A dark, glittering gaze flickered over Ian’s form, making his cock flex in response. “The suit is very, very sexy.” Rick’s voice dropped into a lower register, and Ian desperately wanted to ignore the time and throw the man back into bed, but he couldn’t.

“Right back at ya, Richard Haviland.”

Rick shook his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. This isn’t sexy.”

Ian crept closer. “But I know what’s underneath, and that makes it very, very sexy. I’m coming back tonight after work. And I’m going to muss up your plastic perfection. Strip you back down to your club bunny G-string, then fuck you until you explode.” He’d noticed exactly what type of undergarments Rick had pulled on this morning and they sure as shit didn’t match the outer shell.

“Make sure you bring the tie.” Rick’s chest lifted, his inhalations fast and heavy. He wrapped Ian’s tie in a fist and pulled Ian close.

A tiny whimper escaped as he thought about everything they could do with the black silk strip tied at his throat. He advanced on Rick, gathering him close. He could get to work a little late.

A loud buzz interrupted his carnal intentions. “Ian, shit, that’s my first appointment.”

Ian’s cock voiced its displeasure, but Ian forced himself to step away from Rick anyway. “Rain check, Mr. Haviland? After work tonight?”

“Definitely, Mr. O’Donnell.” Rick smiled at him before scooting around him.

R
ICK
whistled as he sorted through his files. His receptionist was on vacation this week, which meant he had a lot of extra work, but it also meant he didn’t need to answer any uncomfortable, probing questions about why he was in such a good mood. He hadn’t lied to Ian, though. He wasn’t ready for anyone and everyone to know. A notion had taken hold of his brain that if anyone knew, his bright, shiny new relationship would blow up in his face.

After setting the files on Jenny’s desk for her to put away when she returned, Rick wandered to the front of the house and grabbed the mail.

He flipped through the envelopes, but nothing leapt out as urgent. At the bottom of the pile was a plain manila envelope with no address. It must have been pushed through the mail slot by hand, but he had no idea what it might contain.

Curiosity riding him, he opened the fastener on the envelope’s flap and pulled out a few sheets of printer paper. The color images took up almost the entirety of the 8 ½” x 11” inch sheets of paper, with a handwritten caption below that read “I see you” in red block letters.

It took a few minutes of staring at the printed images before he comprehended what he was seeing. Him and Ian, on the bed, fucking. Last night. Heart stuttering in his chest, he let the pages flutter to the floor while his mind rabbited around as he tried to decide what he needed to do.

No matter how he tried to come up with other options, the only thing that came to mind was calling Ian. They’d been a couple for less than forty-eight hours. Was this the sort of thing he could dump on his brand-new boyfriend? He had no fucking clue, but he damn well wanted Ian’s brand of comfort.

He stared down at the images on the floor. He couldn’t leave them there. With cold, trembling fingers, he squatted down and gathered up the sheets and tucked them back into the envelope.

After locking the front door, he sat at his receptionist’s desk and quickly canceled the two sessions he was supposed to have later that afternoon. Then he pulled out his cell phone and called Ian.

“Rick?”

“Uh, hi, is this a bad time?”

“No, not at all. I just got out of a meeting. What’s up?”

“Can you… can you….” How could Rick ask him this? He’d spent his whole life making his own way in the world. Aside from a few friends helping him, he’d done it all on his own. He should be able to handle this on his own, but in a very short period of time, he found himself needing Ian.

“Rick? Are you okay? What do you need?”

“Can you come home? I got something in the mail and… it’s freaking me out a bit. Please.”

“Of course, I’ll be right there.”

Ian disconnected and Rick couldn’t hold back a sob of relief that he wasn’t going to have to deal with this alone.

He shut off the lights in his office and unlocked the door so Ian would be able to get in without any effort on his part. Envelope clutched in a fist, Rick trudged upstairs and curled up on the sofa.

The minutes ticked by—he had no idea how long it would take Ian to get here from his office, or even if Ian had been able to leave right away.

After some indeterminate time, footsteps pounded up the stairs. Ian burst through the door. “What’s wrong?”

Rick didn’t move, just opened his hand, letting the envelope drift to the floor.

Rounding the sofa, Ian scooped up the envelope.

“What the fuck is this?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I know. It’s pictures of us. Kissing. Fucking. Naked. From last night.”

He didn’t know what was going on, but these pictures could ruin his career. Ruin it. He worked with a number of kids. Their parents had never cared about his orientation, but being gay was a hell of lot different than naked pictures. Naked pictures of him fucking, for God’s sake.

“Where did these come from?”

Rick shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t even realize anyone was watching.”

Ian shuddered. “Exhibitionism is one thing, but this is something entirely different. Who do you think could have done this? That Oscar guy?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. He certainly cared more than I ever realized, but he never seemed the obsessive type.”

“I think we should call Kurt.”

A flare of panic chased away some of the depressive lethargy the pictures had brought. “No. No, we can’t. No one needs to know.”

If Kurt knew, everyone would know. The photos had already cast a pall over what had been one of the happiest days he’d ever had. The last thing he needed was gossip about him and Ian spreading through their group of friends and Ian’s family.

“Rick, please reconsider. This could be dangerous.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing. Just a mistake or something. I’ll talk to Oscar.”

“I don’t know. This is… kind of stalkerish. Even if we don’t call Kurt, having a police report on file might be smart. Especially given the other things that have happened to you lately. They might be connected.”

What? No way was Oscar a stalker. No way. “No. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.” He just had to make Oscar delete all copies of these pictures. He couldn’t afford for these pictures to make it out in public or on the Internet. He’d have to change his fucking name again, and he’d really grown to like Rick Haviland.

Ian sat down beside him. “Okay, but please don’t meet him in private. I’d like to be there with you if I can. I still think a police report would be wise.”

“Oscar was a good guy. He doesn’t deserve a police record if this is just a simple mistake.”

“It couldn’t be anyone else, could it?”

The thought that anyone he’d slept with could do that to him made him sick. He didn’t object to sex photos, although given his profession, he’d never trusted anyone enough to take any. He didn’t even object to a little controlled voyeurism, but there was something sordid about these photos that made him feel violated. Their resemblance to blackmail photos, like the ones in that movie last night, made him wonder if there was more to come. He’d spent years assessing men for his roster, to ensure he could trust them enough. Oscar wasn’t the first time he’d misjudged a guy’s likelihood to want more from him, but other than a few ugly words thrown around, he’d never experienced any real negative consequences.

“No. I don’t think so. I can’t think of anyone who would do such a thing.” A sudden thought struck him. “This wouldn’t be about you, would it?”

Dark red suffused the skin of Ian’s face. “Uh. No. I can’t imagine it would be.”

A tiny bit of mirth battled with his depression. “Oh, right. How would they even find you,
Steve
, darling?” He scrubbed the drawl from his tone. “I am sorry I called you at work. It wasn’t exactly an emergency, even though it freaked me out. Do you need to get back?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve got plenty of flexibility in my schedule, so no, I don’t need to get back.” Ian grabbed his hand and hauled him up into a tight hug. “I’m really, really glad you called me.”

Clinging to the warmth he’d been craving since opening that envelope, Rick couldn’t do anything but nod. He might be a flamboyant gay man, but this woke emotions far too similar to his pre-eighteen life. Being the center of attention in this manner, without his choice or consent, was not welcome. The overtones of malevolent jealousy were also far too reminiscent of the violent dissolution of his parents’ marriage and the end of his childhood.

“Maybe you should come and stay with me for a few days.”

“No. I’ll be fine. I’ll talk to Oscar and get this sorted out.” Rick had spent a lot of time and money making his place into the perfect venue for his home and office, and he wasn’t willing to give it up. He liked his home and he liked having Ian in it. He was, however, glad he’d gotten the basement window fixed.

“Then let me stay here tonight at least.”

Rick wasn’t sure he’d mind if Ian never left, but a leap that big made his heart pound. Especially because there’d be no hiding it from anyone. He wasn’t ready for that. Not any time soon. “Tonight. Okay.” One more night, then they’d have to discuss how often this would happen in the future.

“Promise me you’ll call me—or Kurt—if you notice anything unusual, okay?”

That he could promise. He was poised on the cusp of a life he’d never dreamed he could have: a career that fulfilled him, good friends who accepted his idiosyncrasies, and a boyfriend who… maybe didn’t love him but definitely cared for him. He wasn’t going to let anyone take it away from him.

A
DJUSTING
the tie at his throat, Ian strode off the elevator, only a few minutes late despite having come into the office from Rick’s place. His own condo was a stone’s throw from the office building, but Ian was certain he could get used to the commute from Rick’s. Not that it was out in the suburbs or anything. Rick’s house was still inside the confines of what Ian considered downtown Toronto, and it only took an extra twenty minutes or so to get to the office. Ian hoped to be spending enough time at Rick’s that the longer commute would be a regular thing.

He hadn’t been a bit surprised Rick had refused to stay at his condo, even for a few nights. Under the best of circumstances, Rick was going to feel more comfortable on his own turf, and having a stalker snapping pics of them could hardly be called the best of circumstances.

As he walked down the hall to his office, he briefly considered calling Kurt and getting his advice. Rick seemed convinced—after his initial upset—that the compromising photos were a minor thing and the whole issue could be cleared up easily.

Ian wasn’t so sure. Stalking was one of those crimes that was rarely so cut-and-dried—his brother had said so more than once after investigating homicides of stalking victims. The problem was that Rick’s trust was so fragile, if Ian made the wrong move he could shatter it into a million pieces and never be able to put it back to rights. He’d come so close to losing everything over a simple misunderstanding, but neither was he willing to lose Rick to an obsessed ex. Especially one that had already demonstrated some serious anger-management issues. For now, though, he’d wait and see.

Lost in his own thoughts, he almost stumbled over Leon.

“Hey, man, how are you doing? Everything turn out okay?”

Ian frowned, trying to turn his brain away from Rick’s stalker. He wasn’t quite sure what Leon was referring to. “Okay? Yeah, sure, I guess.”

“Your mom said you had a friend that needed some help Saturday night?”

Oh holy fuck. “Oh, man, yeah, sorry. Didn’t get much sleep last night. I’m really sorry for bailing on you.”

Leon gave him a big smile. “It’s all good. I had people to talk to, and Parker offered to introduce me to a few of his friends from school.”

That made sense. Leon was surprisingly easy to talk to, but Parker was much closer to him in age than Ian was. Parker’s friends would probably be more interested in doing things Leon was interested in doing.

“I’m glad.”

“So everything turned out okay for your friend?”

Ian was very conscious of the immense trust Rick had placed in him. He wasn’t about to violate Rick’s confidence, and especially not with Leon. Rick would never forgive him. “Mostly. There are still a few issues going on, but so far, everything’s under control.”

“Good, good. Did you want to have lunch together today?”

“Absolutely. My treat, okay?” It was the least he could do for bailing on the guy and leaving him with the whole O’Donnell clan. And given that Leon was just recently out of school and hadn’t lived in Toronto for very long, he probably didn’t have a lot of extra bucks anyway.

“Thanks.” Leon smiled again. “I’ll meet you at your office at noon?”

Ian nodded and clapped him on the shoulder.

R
ICK
tapped a finger against the envelope he’d laid on the table. He didn’t want to order, because odds were good he wasn’t staying. When Oscar was working, there was always a possibility he’d have to deal with an emergency and would cancel last-minute, but Rick hadn’t wanted to wait until Oscar’s next day off to get this dealt with. Even if Oscar did show up and didn’t have a satisfactory answer about those pictures, Rick wouldn’t be staying. Also, this particular sandwich shop wasn’t great, but it was next to the hospital, so it was convenient for Oscar.