Six Degrees of Lust (26 page)

You taught me how to be with a man properly and

showed me the kind of tricks that will help me make a

few guys very happy soon enough. I’m not waiting until

my deal with my family is up. I’m going to be discreet,

but I’m going to find someone and do my thing because

now that I’ve had a taste of how good it can be, I want

more. I wouldn’t mind doing it with you, but somehow I

doubt you’d want to risk seeing me again now that I’ve

gotten more from you than anybody else.

That being said, I want to apologize for prying and

bringing up the subject of your daughter in the process,

which I’m sure was very painful to you. I had no right

to do such a tactless thing and I hope you believe me

when I say I would have never done so on purpose. I

know you got very close to hitting me that night.

Forgive me?

“That asshole,” muttered Sam, his eyes glued to his laptop

screen, going over Mac’s email for what probably was the fiftieth

time since he’d gotten it four days ago. “That cunning, devious,

shrewd, too clever for his own good motherfucker!”

Contrary to Mac’s assumptions and against Sam’s better

judgment, he was so interested in whatever it was the Texan

had to say that he’d read the message as soon as it hit his inbox.

Then he’d read it again. He’d examined and scrutinized every

single word the other man had sent to make sure he wasn’t

misinterpreting the damn thing, which he wasn’t. The subtext

was so clear a total moron would’ve been able to figure out what

was really being said, and a moron he was not.

Sam scrolled back up to the paragraphs where Mac hastily

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classified the mind blowing sex they’d had as “nothing special”

and how he was planning on doing the same things with other

dudes.

“That manipulative son of a bitch…”

And Mac was damn lucky there were about a million miles

between them, too, because had he been any closer Sam would’ve

shown up at the jerk’s door and punched the scheming ways out

of him. See if blondie would be able to find Prince Fucking

Charming after his pretty face looked like gruesome pulp. Served

him right for trying to influence Sam’s decision, for knowing

which buttons to push in order to get a reaction from him.

And how was that even possible when they’d only been seeing

each oth—when they’d only hooked up three times? How the

hell did Mac know challenging Sam was the most effective way

to get him to react? Most of the people in his life, including the

ones he’d known for years, couldn’t read Sam to save their lives,

so how was it that a lay could do so with total accuracy and no

apparent effort? How had Mac managed to bypass Sam’s decade

old emotional perimeter? To get under his skin in a way that had

Sam wanting more of the gorgeous Texan no matter how many

times he told himself they were done and he was cool with that?

But even if he wanted to kill him at the moment, the truth

was Sam liked Mac’s mind as much as he liked his ripped body.

He was impressed with how perceptive the guy was.

And this had to be about the worst time for him to start really

liking someone.

He moved the cursor to “Reply” but never clicked it. He’d

been putting off sending a response, not wanting to say too

much, like that Travis was a total douche bag for treating Mac

that way and did he want for Sam to track him down and cut his

tiny balls off, or too little by not acknowledging Mac’s story at

all, only because it was the kind of thing one would share with a

partner and it scared Sam that he was glad Mac had decided to

share it with him.

“Uncle Sam, are you ready?” Nicky’s voice and the two fast

184 Taylor V. Donovan

knocks on his bedroom door surprised the crap out of him. “It’s

almost eleven. We gotta go!”

A quick glance at the clock told him it was in fact that late.

Christ. How was it he’d wasted another hour reading this message

again?

He saved the email as unread and logged out of the program.

“Give me a few and I will be.”

“Can’t you hurry?” his nephew called again. “We’re supposed

to meet Logan at noon and I don’t want to make him wait.”

“I’ll be out in five, okay?”

“Fine.”

Sam smiled when he heard the boy’s retreating steps and went

to his closet to grab a pair of cargos and a t-shirt. They were also

meeting Duncan and Zane, but Nick only cared about Logan.

Even after spending the prior day together it was more than

obvious his nephew couldn’t wait to see Sam’s best friend again.

The boy had the biggest case of hero worship he had ever seen.

He was ready to go in under three minutes and about to open

his door when he made the decision of texting Mac. Before he

could change his mind, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket

and typed a message to the other man.

I forgive you, but only ’cause you want me again so

badly you said everything you could to get me to

write you back. Next time you want me to fuck you,

spare me the drama and just say so.

He hit send and put his phone back in his pocket. Mac could

take that however the hell he wanted to.

Nicky’s room was empty, which meant he was waiting in the

SUV. On his way out Sam stopped by the kitchen to grab a bottle

of water and leave a note for Sandy, but found her by the back

door drinking a cup of coffee.

“Hey.” Sam wasn’t surprised when she didn’t answer. His

sister hardly ever said a word to him. “We’re going out for a few

hours. Need anything?”

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“Where are you taking Nick?” she asked without looking at

him.

“To a charity car wash.”

“Charity?” she repeated, finally facing him. “For the fags?”

“Excuse me?” Every muscle in Sam’s body tensed, but his

voice remained low.

“I heard Nicholas tell Mom on the phone last night he’d spent

the day at the fag center… with a bunch of fags. How could you

take him there?”

“It’s the LGBT Center, not fag. And I’m positive Nicky didn’t

use that word.” He corrected after a few seconds, choosing to

ignore the disgust in his sister’s voice. Since when was Sandy

homophobic? “We’re helping raise money so that they can

continue to offer their services to a community that’s very much

in need.”

“The only need our community has is to make fags understand

the error of their ways,” she spat at him.

“I won’t have you talking that way in my house.” Sam’s voice

got even lower. He really didn’t give a shit about his sister’s

opinion on the matter, but there was a very strong possibility

Nicky was gay. Her reaction didn’t bode well for his nephew, and

Sam couldn’t let that go. “There’s nothing wrong with who we

are, let alone our ways, and in case you’ve forgotten, not only do

I like men, but make a living out of sending to jail criminals who

happen to think the way you do.”

“Do not remind me.” Sandy put her cup in the sink and took

a deep breath. “I want to go back home.”

“You’re in no condition to do that just yet.” This was the

truth. She needed to stay as far away from her husband as

possible. “Not to mention, Nicky is about to finish this school

semester and—”

“I wasn’t planning on bringing him,” she interrupted, and

Sam could’ve sworn the way she said “him” when referring to

her son was almost resentful. “I need to be with my husband.”

186 Taylor V. Donovan

“Your husband is an abusive scumbag, and you need to get

well and take care of Nick.”

“He isn’t a scumbag.”

“Tell that to the cops who arrested him.”

“He was only in jail because you put him there!” she yelled.

“You hate him because he’s responsible and cares for his wife

and kid, which is something you never did. He’s the kind of man

you’ll never be!”

“He was there because he’d been hitting you and broke his

son’s arm! And you’re damn right I’ll never be the kind of man

he is!” Sam yelled back.

He knew he had to go easy on Sandy, but it irked him no end

to have the first words she’d spoken to him since they came back

from Buffalo be false accusations.

His sister didn’t deny that. She just looked at him like he was

something disgusting and went back to her room.

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his keys and joined Nicky

on the sidewalk. “You ready to go?”

They were both quiet during the drive to Horizons, the LGBT

center where Logan volunteered. Whereas Nicky was almost

vibrating in his seat, probably in anticipation of spending more

time with Logan, Sam was sick to his stomach with suspicion and

uncertainty. So far neither he nor Logan had been successful in

getting his nephew to open up about wearing eyeliner or anything

else, and he had to find out what exactly had gone down at his

sister’s house. He needed to find out if the possibility of Nicky

liking boys had played any part in it.

Sam almost asked the boy about it a few times, but ultimately

decided it wasn’t the time to get into it. He didn’t want to ruin

Nicky’s mood, so he pushed the issue to the back burner for the

time being.

It was a little after twelve when they made it to the center,

and Sam was happy to see lots of people had already turned up.

Parking spots in the Village were limited, but thanks to Sam’s lack

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of qualms when it came to using his official car plate for personal

purposes he was able to secure himself a good spot in a matter

of minutes. He had no intention of wasting their time waiting for

someone to pull out.

The Stand Strong, Stand Proud Festival, one of the biggest

gay fundraisers in the city, took place on the third weekend of

June, and every year Sam, Zane, and Duncan would show up to

support both the cause and their friend, who was as involved in

helping their troubled community as a busy federal agent could

manage.

From Friday afternoon to Sunday evening they had activities

for all tastes and ages. Food, a scavenger hunt, slave for a day

auctions, karaoke, rides, drag queen shows, a car wash, fashion

shows, art auctions, and a lot more. People donated their time,

effort, knowledge, merchandise, baked goods, etc., and the

proceeds were used to keep the center’s doors open to any and

every LGBT person out there that needed its services.

The prior day Sam and his friends had volunteered for hours

at the dunking booth getting soaked. Today they were washing

cars. Shirtless. But they’d drawn the line at being auctioned off

as dates. Especially Duncan, who was most definitely straight

but a damn good friend for being there even though he got hit

on more often than the others. Gays seemed to be incapable of

resisting the straight boy challenge.

Sam took off his t-shirt, put it in his back pocket, and got to

work as soon as they reached the car wash area, happy to be able

to help and more than ready to forget about his personal drama

for a few hours.

It was time to have some fun.

§ § § §

Nicky paid for his Italian ice and wandered about a bit until

he found a spot to sit down that was both shadowed and close

enough for him to keep an eye on his uncle. Unlike his own

father, who’d never let him out of his sight for too long, his uncle

always said to “explore a little and do your own thing.” But he’d

188 Taylor V. Donovan

much rather stay close by. That way Uncle Sam could see him and

Nicky could make sure neither him nor his friends were getting

the shit beat out of them for being “fucking faggots.”

Nicky didn’t like those words, but Dad said that’s what they

were; faggots, faeries, cocksuckers. Dad said it was okay if he

wanted to curse and call guys those names, because that’s what

real men did; used curse words, called out the fags, and fucked

girls. But he couldn’t call his uncle a faggot.

First of all, he wasn’t sure that he was one. Plus Logan had said

faggot was a hurtful and demeaning word. He’d also told Nicky

that he was gay and explained that being homosexual meant a

man was sexually and romantically attracted to other men.

Uncle Sam had never told Nicky anything like that about

himself, but he thought his uncle might be gay. Not that Nicky

cared. Dad said faggots were scum, but Uncle Sam was a good

man. He was a hero, always coming to the rescue when Nicky

needed him. And Logan was great too.

Dad was wrong calling them scum. That couldn’t be right.

He buried the spoon in the Italian ice and tried to slip

his fingers under his cast, only to sigh in frustration when he

wasn’t able to get past the edge. He couldn’t wait for his doctor

appointment next week. He was going to scratch his arm off as

soon as they removed the cast.