We all keep secrets and some are worse than others. I have a piece coming out that’s very emotional, allowing you to see inside three men who share love and life together in a way few of us can ever understand. However in the happiness there are aspects of their past they can’t run from. Horror. Coming from Naughty Nights Press on Saturday… Take a peek at a very emotional piece.
When secrets and tragedy threaten to destroy three lives, will the friends and lovers learn to face their personal demons or succumb to the horror of tragedy?
Cole Dumont, Dylan Wyler and Brandon Foster were old chums who decided just out of college to open Forever Green Lawn. Their business catering to the wealthiest families in Fort Lauderdale, their pristine reputation afforded them every indulgence. Unable to disclose their gay lifestyle, they sequestered their dark desires, sharing passion as well as their lives. Terrified to admit their needs, they all hid behind a mask. The reasons were too damning to admit – at least for one of the men.
When a horrifying accident nearly claimed Dylan’s life, Cole and Brandon were given a last request, one they were unable to refuse. As Dylan’s mysterious past finally became known, a series of mysteries dragged them all into a private hell. The truth was far too damning.
Dylan stood gazing at the water, thinking about his behavior from the night before. “You’re out of your mind.” What an understatement. Squinting, he glanced into the bright morning sun and sighed. The day was beautiful and he was indeed looking forward to going out on the boat, but Jesus, his thoughts would not stop rambling about the night before. There was no way he could push them aside. He held up his shaking hand, clenching his fist. What the hell had he been thinking? Not only fucking Cole like a wild animal, but also nearly strangling him to death? That wasn’t him. No, it was the behavior of a freaking, raving lunatic. The sad part was he was still turned on. No wonder Cole had avoided him all morning, seemingly lost in reflection. Yeah, ’cause you almost killed him. Huffing, he pushed the damning thought aside. Unfortunately, Dylan had little recollection of what had actually happened as Cole’s account had been stilted at best.
Without a doubt the sex had been amazing, addictive, but the other… Stop it. You just got carried away. Lying to himself didn’t make the understanding any easier. Dylan stole several glances in Cole’s direction. He shook his head and finished untying the mooring line. Get your mind out of the freaking gutter. when he glanced toward Brandon he was surprised how quiet the guy had been all morning. Mister Happy-Go-Lucky was decidedly cold. The term ‘frosty’ came to mind. Dylan knew he should apologize, but where could he start? Saying sorry just didn’t seem to cut it.
Well, maybe Cole had been right and they were exhausted. The long hours were making them all cranky. Taking a day off was a damn good idea and would hopefully refresh their batteries. With a smile he remembered the last boat ride with sweet and very sexy visions. Sex aboard a rockin’ ship was certainly hot as wild fire. They’d indulged and engaged for hours, ignoring the approaching gale-strength storm; they’d almost been slammed hard against a bank of coral. He daydreamed about how good Cole’s skin felt under the tips of his fingers and the way Cole had kissed and the…
“Well, look who it is, Charles. Our lawn boy.”
“Madge, Dylan is one of the owners of the company.”
“Owners? Really? Interesting.” Madge made a cooing sound.
Annoyed by the interruption, Dylan pulled his mind back from his sinful thoughts and cringed. Closing his eyes briefly, he slapped on his practiced plastic smile before standing and turning to face the Thurstons. While the husband was basically a nice guy and generally pleasant to be around, his wife was nothing more than a barracuda in a thousand dollar pantsuit. Her snippy attitude matched the priceless diamond bracelet she always wore. Forever Green was simply another extension of their hired help, and they had plenty of that. From household staff to a chauffeur, they were the beautiful people living the high life, looking down on the cretins performing menial tasks for their money. Perhaps it was time to have a little fun with them. “Mr. and Mrs. Thurston, how are the two of you? My goodness, you both look good today. Younger.” That would get to her. Old Bag.
“Why…thank you.” Hesitating, Mrs. Thurston gave Dylan a once over. She raised her sunglasses and sniffed, eying the boat. “We’re fine. Whatever are you doing here?”
Out of the corner of his eye Dylan could see a look of disdain cross Brandon’s face and Cole come from the quarters below, scrutinizing the moment. Dylan could tell Cole had heard the exchange, for his face held contempt and curiosity. No doubt based on the fact Dylan had spoken up, which was rare for him. Then again, Cole had heard enough of his bitching regarding the account that Dylan could tell Cole was ready to say something turgid himself. “What are we doing here?”
“Why, yes,” Mrs. Thurston huffed.
“We’re getting ready for a day off with the guys. It’s a perfect day to sail and have a little fun for a change.” Dylan gave her a broad smile.
“How nice you have someone allowing you to use their boat. I certainly hope you boys know how to sail.”
You bitch! While the words weren’t something he hadn’t thought on several occasions, the rate at which his inner voice was growing more agitated surprised him. Agitated? Hell, Dylan could strike the prima donna down. He’d prided himself on being the one who could talk to both the crew and every one of Forever Green’s clients, treating them with respect on one hand while stroking their rather fragile egos with the other. Both Brandon and Cole were generally incapable of playing diplomat turned politician, and Dylan actually garnered a kick, normally, out of excelling in the attribute. Today, however, his anger was spiking out of control.
“Dylan,” Cole cautioned as he inched forward.
“I’m fine. No worries.” Leaning forward, Dylan moved as close to her as he knew she could stand and smacked his lips. “No, actually, this boat belongs to the three of us. The sexy beast was merely one of the many toys we purchased for ourselves, along with big homes smack on the beach, damn fast imported sports cars, and all the trinkets money can buy. Would you like a ride? I’m certain we could find an extra Budweiser or two for you both.” As soon as he said the words he heard Cole audibly sucking in his breath. His lovers certainly weren’t used to seeing him this way. They were all due for a change of venue.
Her eyes opening wide, she darted her glance to the sleek boat they’d named His Secret, pressed the back of her hand over her mouth, and then stuttered. “Yes, yes…yes, well. It is…it is a perfect day. Did you bring your girlfriends with you?” Her vile attitude returning, she gave Dylan a smirk as she rubbed her hand down the back of the small dog she was carrying.
“They aren’t really into the water, and besides, this is a guys’ time out. You know, to cruise and drink beer, belch, talk about foxy women and see the world.” The timbre of his voice was laced with venom.
This time Mrs. Thurston gasped and took a step back. “Come on, Charles. I think we should get going. Lovely to see you, Danton. Enjoy your…ride.”
“That’s Dylan, honey.” Mr. Thurston gave Dylan a wink before trailing along behind her.
More than satisfied with her reaction, Dylan folded his arms and huffed, and when he turned around he expected the boys to be cheering. Instead they were both frowning; Cole was fuming as evidenced by a darker and angrier look. Dylan climbed onto the boat and turned his heated gaze in the Thurstons’ direction.
Cole raised his sunglasses and then shook his head. “Did someone piss in your Wheaties this morning? I mean, if not, the entire concept of people skills with you just flew out the window.”
“I’m sick and tired of being treated like white trash. I’m not going to take that kind of ridiculous behavior any longer.” Dylan shook his head and watched the way Mrs. Thurston stole glances in their direction. For the life of him he couldn’t stop the building rage. Even his throat was dry from his vivid response. Granted, he couldn’t figure out why he was so angry. The bout had given him another headache. “I need freaking Aspirin.”
Just a taste – ready for more?