Empty Nests (23 page)

Gabe’s hips continued to roll, but he didn’t pick up any speed. He seemed content to simply have James pressed against him, and James did not mind. It felt so natural to have a strong male body under his. Another man’s cock pressed against his. If the previous weekend had been the first hit, this was the addiction, the thing he’d been craving his whole life. He’d always told people he was gay, but that had been more theory than fact. One kiss hardly counted. Now he knew what he truly wanted. Now he knew what he honestly craved. Even as one of Gabe’s hands gently squeezed his ass, he became afraid. He’d controlled his life as much as possible for years—every cent counted, every minute put to maximum use. His guiding principles had always been responsibility and priority. Now he knew he wanted to feel that out-of-control scream escape from him as often as possible, going against nineteen years of practice and belief.

Gabe started to thrust harder and faster. This time James slid his hand between them, noting how even holding Gabe’s cock felt good right now, the smooth skin sliding along his palm. It was an odd angle, but Gabe thrust up into James’s hand until Gabe’s back arched, a low growl coming from deep in his chest, and he spilled between their bodies, his breath mingling with James’s as he did.

J
AMES
KNEW
he liked Gabe’s bed the moment he’d touched it, but he was quickly learning to enjoy Gabe’s bath just as much. It was deep and large enough for at least three, and with the steam rising from it, he felt there should have been Roman slave boys hanging around, holding towels. He leaned back, resting his head against Gabe’s shoulder as Gabe’s arms wrapped around his chest. Gabe gently rubbed one of his nipples with the edge of his thumb. It was sending soft waves of pleasure down his body like a gentle tide.

“I don’t get to do this nearly often enough.” Gabe sighed, giving James an extra squeeze.

“It is nice. I think bits of me that I didn’t even know I had are relaxing.”

“Do you want to know the only thing better than sex and a hot bath?”

“There’s something better?”

“More sex, then a good night’s sleep.”

“I think I can get behind that idea.”

Even as he said that, he found himself starting to half doze in Gabe’s arms. In the distance, a phone rang. He started to lean forward so Gabe could get out, but Gabe held him tight.

“I’m not getting that.”

“What if it’s important?”

“I’d rather be doing this. I have a hard enough time not thinking about work.” The phone kept ringing. “The guys are convinced I’m going to have a stroke or a breakdown.” The ringing stopped, but Gabe raised a hand and began worrying the pads of his fingers with his teeth.

James had noticed the skin on Gabe’s thumb and ring finger was cracked and oddly worn. He reached up and gently removed Gabe’s fingers from his teeth in much the same way he’d taken Dylan’s thumb from his mouth when he was little. Gabe looked startled, then embarrassed.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Work.” Gabe’s voice was more than a little irritated. “I shouldn’t. I should be thinking about you and this.”

“Tell me about your work. What’s going through your brain?” James was sure most of it would go over his head, but he wanted a general idea so he could be aware of when Gabe really couldn’t afford distractions.

“It’s not interesting.”

“I reset passwords and set up e-mail accounts for a living. On exciting days I lay cables. Now tell me what has you worrying your fingers off.”

Gabe rolled his head back and stared at the ceiling. “There’s a guy at the club, Simon, a real tool, and he doesn’t like me. But he owns a little tech company. It’s had four owners in five years, a dozen employees, and has never turned a profit. It’s basically a second-rate tax shelter, and it’s almost not that anymore. I want to buy it, but he won’t sell. At least not to me.”

“Why do you want it, and why won’t he sell?” James knew he probably couldn’t help directly, but he could at least be a sounding board.

Gabe brought his fingers to his mouth again, and James gently removed them. “I don’t want the whole company. Just a couple of the patents they hold.”

“And you can’t buy those separately?”

“Not without Simon digging into why I want them. Right now I doubt he knows they exist.”

“And they’re that important?”

Gabe shifted, sloshing water onto the tiles. “Who do you think was one of the first companies to really use the mouse?”

James had never thought about it. “Apple?”

“Try again.”

“Microsoft?”

“Xerox.”

“Xerox? The copy machine guys?”

“Yep. They had it, they used it a bit, but they just didn’t make the grand leap. They didn’t bring it into the wider world. Then Apple came along and there was theft and infringements and countertheft, but when that mouse broke free, it was the game changer of game changers. It should be held up with the first Model T. Suddenly there was the Mac and Windows and everyone from grandma to a toddler can use a computer. Simon is sitting on a mouse. Two of them in fact, and he either doesn’t know about it or doesn’t have the vision or resources to do anything with it.”

“But you do.”

“If Russia works out, it would be the little bell that rings when the last domino falls over. It wouldn’t change computers. It could change the world. Technically I don’t need it, but oh, dear God, I want it. And even if he did sell it to me, the engineers who built it all have twelve-month restraint-of-trade clauses in their contracts, so they’ll have to be unemployed for a year before they can work on their own projects again. And if I try to buy their contracts with the patents, Simon is going to get really suspicious.” Gabe briefly clenched his hands in frustration.

“So you need the whole enchilada.”

“Yeah. And that is just one of the places my mind has been wandering off to. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’ve got a lot of responsibilities. Those are important.”

Gabe gave a little huff and James another squeeze. “It was never meant to be this
—TechPrim, I mean. The guys had a drunken, overcaffeinated idea one night, and their plan was to sell it to some company for a few grand. I held them down and made them promise not to. And when I say held down, I mean I knelt on Frank’s back and had Nate in a headlock until they promised.” The phone in the other room started ringing again. “Our first office was the size of my shower,” Gabe continued. “It had two phone lines and dodgy power. I thought we’d last a year or two tops, and then we’d all move on to other things. Instead we have offices on six continents, and I get alcohol poisoning at least once a year trying to close a deal. I mean, I know I shouldn’t bitch. Especially to you.”

James rolled over so he could look into Gabe’s eyes. They were warm and soft, but they also looked tired. Gabe probably needed a good night’s sleep more than he needed more sex.

“You can talk about your job any time you like. I don’t mind.”

Gabe smiled and kissed him.

The phone rang again, but this time it was playing “Yellow Submarine.” “Okay, that’s Nate. That I need to get.”

There was some splashing as Gabe got out of the bath as quickly as he could and rushed to the other room. James resisted the urge to wipe up the drips. He reminded himself he was a guest, and that marble didn’t curl the way linoleum did. He wrapped a couple of large towels around himself. In the bedroom Gabe was looking worried.

“James, it’s Nate.” He held out the phone. “He wants to talk with you.”

“Me?” James took the phone. He couldn’t conceive of a single reason why Gabe’s business partner would want to speak with him. “Hello?”

“James, hi, um…. Harry’s run off. Well, he hasn’t run off—he was supposed to be at a friend’s house—but the GPS on his phone says he’s in
Berkeley,
and he’s not picking up his phone, and his friend’s parents are out of town but I didn’t know that, and he has never done anything like this, and Margaret is driving up there to find him, but I’m from Salinas, I don’t know what kind of neighborhood he’s in and—”

“Okay, okay, stop.” James cut off Nate, now having a pretty clear picture of the situation. “First, big breath. Don’t hyperventilate.” He heard the sound of a deep inhale and exhale. “Now, where does your computer say he is?”

“It says he’s near San Pablo Avenue.”

James tried not to roll his eyes. “San Pablo is twenty miles long. Give me a cross street.”

“Um… Gilman Street?”

James let out a quick breath. “Okay, there’s an under-twenty-one club there. Mostly punk, some metal. Not the world’s greatest neighborhood but could be lots worse.”

Nate took a few more deep breaths. James had no trouble being sympathetic. The first time Dylan had snuck away with friends after a baseball game, he’d been in a dead panic. He looked at Gabe, who was looking a bit panicked himself.

“He’s never done anything like this before,” Nate repeated. “I swear, up until an hour ago, I thought he was a saint.”

“He’s fourteen. He’s probably trying to impress a girl.”

“More likely a boy,” Nate muttered.

James decided to be kind and not point out that being fourteen and gay would not get rid of the chance he could get some girl knocked up.

“I think Dylan mentioned something about his ex-girlfriend’s band playing there tonight. I can call him, see if he’s there, see if he can find Harry and sit on him.”

“Oh, that would be amazing.”

“Hang on.” He turned to Gabe, who found James’s cell phone in his discarded pants and traded it for the house phone. He dialed and counted through the rings. If any band was playing, the odds were good he wouldn’t hear the phone. Suddenly the line was filled with what James could only call noise.

“
Dylan. Go outside so we can talk!
” James shouted down the line, then waited until the noise in the distance became muted.

“Hey, Dad. What’s up?”

“I need a favor; are you at the Gilman?”

“Yeah, Catherine’s band is on their second set.”

“Okay, Gabe’s business partner, Nate? His son, Harry, was supposed to be staying with a friend, but it turns out the friend’s parents are out of town, and the GPS on his phone says he’s at the Gilman.”

Dylan laughed. “You kind of have to respect the classics.”

“Well, this seems to be the first rebellion, so his dad’s in a dead panic. His mother is driving up there, and I was wondering if you could have a look around and sit on him until she gets there.”

“What do I get out of it?”

“Dylan!” James snapped.

“Okay, okay. Any idea what the kid is wearing? And don’t say black!”

“Um… just a second.” James waved for the other phone and held it up to his other ear. “Nate, hi, what’s Harry wearing?”

“Jeans, a T-shirt?”

This time James did roll his eyes. Gabe motioned for the phone with Dylan on the other end. James handed it over.

“Hey, it’s Gabe. You’ve got our 880-SA phone, right? Is it set up to get photos?” Gabe grabbed a tablet from his bedside table. “Give me your number, and I’ll send you a photo from his birthday a couple months back.”

“You still there?” James asked Nate.

“I think so.”

“Gabe’s sending Dylan a picture of Harry. He’ll keep an eye out.”

Nate let out another long sigh. “I swear he was an angel until not too long ago.”

“He’s a teenager. These things happen.”

“We’ve never even had to ground him before, he’s been so good. We’ve been like best friends. I mean, what kind of punishment do I give out for something like this?”

James sat down on the bed. He’d watched plenty of Dylan’s friends and teammates crash and burn over the years because their parents were trying to be either best friends or drill sergeants.

“You want my advice?”

“I’ll take anything I can get right now.”

“Firm but quick; this is a first offense. He’ll throw a fit about his privacy. Doors will be slammed. Take his phone, cut off his social networking if you can, and make him be seen in public with his parents. He’ll be screaming for mercy in forty-eight hours. Sit down, have a talk about how you were more worried than angry, then move on.”

“And that’ll work?”

“For a few weeks, two months if you’re lucky. What did you do at fourteen?”

“I was trying to get enough XP to dual-class my half-orc fighter.”

James remembered who he was talking to. “Right. Just have the safe-sex talk, a lot. Daily if necessary. You don’t want grandchildren yet.”

“I think he’s gay.”

“I’m gay. I’m also thirty-two with a seventeen-year-old son.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

Gabe waved at him, then handed over the other phone. “Just a sec.” James juggled phones.

“I found him!” Dylan shouted down the line. “He’s standing by the wall, looking lame and uncomfortable, and making moon eyes at some guy who’s practically dry-humping some girl.”

“Can you sit on him until his mother gets there?”

“Sure, but TechPrim owes me one.”

“I’ll pass that along.” Dylan hung up. James tossed the phone back to Gabe. “Dylan found him.”

“Oh thank God.” Nate’s voice was thick with relief that matched the look of relief on Gabe’s face.

“Apparently he’s looking lame and uncomfortable, and Dylan will sit on him until your wife gets there.”

“Thank you, James. I’m really sorry but….”

“It’s okay. We’ve all been there at least once. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Thank you for the advice.”

“No problem.”

“I should call Margaret and tell her where she’s going. Oh, this is going to be a long night.”

“It gets easier from here.”

“Does it?”

“No. But if you don’t tell yourself that, things can get ugly really quick.”

Nate let slip a nervous chuckle. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks again. And I’m sure I’ll talk to you later.”

“You too.”

James hung up, then flopped onto his back. Gabe sat down next to him and ran his fingers through James’s still damp hair. “Thank you for that.”