Chapter 2

Why? Because there’d always been something about “Bertie,” as I called him when no one else was around. In spite of his outrageous, self-centered behavior, once you got past the smoke screen of full-time asshole, he was someone else entirely. Someone loveable and vulnerable. We’d had some good times together, in and out of bed, but I hadn’t seen that side of him in the last seven years, and it was only getting worse.

The image of “bad boy corporate” had to be maintained at all costs, according to Lambert. I, alone, knew the truth. It had been a long time since a nineteen-year-old Bertie had sucked my dick under the covers in my dorm bed and made me howl…

* * * *

“…let me suck you off, Cliff,” Bertie whispered, hair falling into his eyes as he looked up at me with a shy smile, his hand slowly jacking my cock as he fondled my balls.

“As if I’d stop you, man,” I replied.

Bertie’s mouth was made to suck dick. He had suction that rivaled porn stars, I was sure of it.

“Shit, baby, you know how to work me over good, dontcha?” I said, keeping my hand in his hair as I guided him up and down my quivering length.

“No talking, just getting off,” he said before mouthing my balls, then getting back to business.

“I could love you, you bastard,” I murmured, wishing I could get Bertie to admit to his feelings, but he always seemed afraid to do so, even though I knew they were there. Didn’t matter, I was sure he would eventually cave, because he was it for me, and I could tell in his eyes he felt the same.

“Let me love you, baby. Let me suck you dry, and then I can fuck you. You have the tightest ass known to man.”

And I let him. Over and over, whenever he wanted it, like a fool…

* * * *

I missed that man and had loved him. Still did, though it got harder to do so every day.

If the world only knew…but the real Lambert Morton was firmly and completely locked in the closet now, caught up in the facade he’d built for himself, and which I’d helped preserve. It was all kinds of crazy.

We’d both attended graduate school after earning our Bachelors, and while there, started the company, which was now a monumental success. He’d taken all the credit, of course, but I wasn’t built for the limelight like he was, and loving him like I did, I hadn’t cared, as long as I could be with him. As the company took off, Lambert morphed into a self-made heterosexual shark who climbed over bodies to get to the top, and I went along willingly. Did I mention that I graduated at the top of my class, with him a far third?

All that to say, getting Bertie to let me take a few days off, with all that history and knowing him like I did, was complicated and likely a death wish. I was feeling guilty already, and I hated myself for it. But I had to do this. I was too old to let things go on like this anymore, my tension headaches were constant now, and I was creating a hole in my stomach with worry and too much coffee. I would burn out soon if I didn’t get a break, my unrequited feelings be damned.

* * * *

It was two-thirty in the morning on a Monday and I was being driven home in a company car. I’d just gotten off a conference call with Berlin and I was exhausted. My head was pounding as it did so often lately. I’d decided the best way to apprise Lambert of my plans to go AWOL for a few days should occur as we went over documents when he arrived in the office around seven later this morning. I would slip it into conversation and hope he’d be too absent-minded to notice. Fat chance, that.

I entered my loft ten minutes later and was greeted instantly by my baby girl, Bambi Turgelson. She was a Pembroke Welsh Corgi, with a mostly medium brown coat, and a very forgiving nature, considering how little I saw her. I had a daily service take her on walks and give her attention because her human sure as shit was rarely ever around.

She licked my face when I bent over to rub behind her ears. “I’m happy to see you, too, sweetie,” I said in a stupid sing-song voice, which she seemed to appreciate. She barked, I cooed, we bonded.

Greeting ritual over, I headed to the bedroom with Bambi at my heels, tail a-wagging. As I undressed—suits were standard attire for me—I told her all about my day as she watched me from one of her favorite spots on the edge of my bed.