[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Because of it he couldn t see who was there, could only see
movement accompanied by the sucking, groaning sounds of sex.
He refused to kiss the guy he was with because that seemed to
declare an intimacy he didn t feel, but he let the stud s hands roam
his body, becoming more and more intimate as Wendell closed his
hands over a sharp, hard ass. It was nothing like Jon s round butt
with its different levels of firmness, but in Wendell s mind, this
was Jon loving him, licking, biting and fondling him.
His blood pounded, dropped and settled in his core, and he
moaned with pleasure as his dick fattened and lengthened in
arousal. He thrust it forward into the stud s hands. His hand closed
on the package between the blond s hipbones. When the guy
almost ripped Wendell s slacks apart and reached a greedy hand
inside his briefs, Wendell reached for a condom from a nearby
bowl and forced the guy to stop until he was sheathed. The driving
67
IN FROM THE COLD
force of the need to explode and come caused the stud to return the
favor.
When Wendell grasped the man s cock through the condom
and discovered it was shorter and slimmer than Jon s, the reality of
what he was doing shot through the slight alcoholic haze he was
in this was a stranger and not the man he loved.
He stopped cold.  I& I m sorry. I can t do this.
 Aw, come on, man. I m almost there.
 Can t do it. Releasing the stranger, he stumbled back. In the
restroom, his hands shook as he removed the latex sheath and
flushed it away. A sense of betraying Jon flooded him. He felt
ashamed he d almost succumbed to such dismal backroom
behavior.
Wendell, eyes downcast, slipped out the back door. He hoped
never to see the guy again.
He thanked the heavens he had his own house and a private
entrance separate from that of his parents. The first thing he did
was shed his clothes because they reeked of cannabis, then he
scrubbed from head to toe in the shower.
Falling into bed, he wondered, not for the first time, if hard
work was going to get him through this.
* * *
The following week in Chelsea, Jon had just finished a late
dinner when the house went totally black. Not even the red lights
on his microwave clocks or his computer hook ups glowed. The
electricity had failed. Swearing, he pressed the light on his watch
and used its faint glow to find his way to the kitchen where he kept
a flashlight. It was dead, so by touch he had to locate the batteries
68
IN FROM THE COLD
in the drawer and figure out how to insert them. When he finally
had a decent light, he climbed the stairs to the top floor and looked
out the window. The night was black velvet everywhere he looked.
The hell of it was, he could see the stars for the first time in years.
 Shit. A blackout. Checking his breakers wouldn t do any
good. There was an emergency radio in the downstairs closet, so
he retraced his steps and dug through the shoes and suitcases
stored there and found it. He cranked it until he had a signal and
tuned in to learn his part of Manhattan was out. There was a major
problem with the grid, and crews would work around the clock to
locate and repair the problem.
 Meanwhile, I have no heat, and it ll drop below freezing
outside, he grumped as he dressed in long thermal underwear and
a fleece shirt before stepping into Spyder insulated, waterproof ski
pants and jacket. The gloves were clumsy, so he d wait until the
temp had dropped more in the townhouse before he put them and
the ski cap on. He pulled out his down sleeping bag and unfolded it
on the bed.
Two hours later, he was sitting like a mummy on the couch
thinking hard much too hard about the simple life in
Brooklands, when someone pounded on his door.
Looking out the peephole, he saw Mark standing there with a
flashlight on his face so he could be identified.
 What the hell are you doing here? The whole area s a
blackout. He threw the door wide open.
 Came to get you, dude. Pack your undies and a toothbrush and
come with me. My car s warm and it ll take us a long time to get to
my place because it s not safe to travel fast with the lights at the
intersections out. In fact, everything that s electric is out here, but I
have power at my place.
69
IN FROM THE COLD
What should have taken twenty minutes took them a harrowing
hour, but finally they crossed into the part of Manhattan that had
lights.
 It s like crossing into Glory Land, the gospel singers would
say, Jon said.  You saved my life.
 Maybe we can work that into a song, Mark quipped.
It was two days before the vital service was restored. He and
Mark had hummed, played guitar, cooked and done some touristy
things in the sections of Manhattan with power for those two days.
The second evening, Mark asked,  You know the Sams guy from
way back?
Jon nodded.  Middle school. Discovered we were gay together
when we were fourteen, I think. He was my first love.
 What happened?
 I left to follow my music. He eventually went to college to
become a sheep farmer.
Relief that he could talk about this to someone was like lead
weights being lifted from his feet.  It was great to spend time with
him again. We d lost touch in the past few years, and seeing him
again was like we d never been apart. No awkwardness, just a
familiar camaraderie. Smooth as melted butter. Some friendships
are like that. You ever experienced that?
 Oh, yeah. I had a friend up the street in the projects when I
was growing up that s like that. Even though he struggles and I
have money, it s like our little pinkies are still locked.
 My mom remarried and moved to Portland, so I wasn t in
Brooklands much.
 And we have little time to make phone calls when we re in
Europe or Asia, and the time zones are never the same. Touring s a
bitch.
70
IN FROM THE COLD
 That it is. I m glad we ve decided to cut back a bit on it. Take
a breather.
 Give Hamilton s marriage time to settle in.
 Right-o.
Mark didn t probe any deeper, and Jon was thankful for it
because he d said all he wanted to say on the subject.
Two days before New Year s Eve, a blizzard struck New York
City. The Times Square celebration was cancelled. The ball
dropped, but it was seen only on TV screens and not by human
eyes crowded at its base. The ice show in Central Park was nixed.
Transportation ground to a halt, and the members of Boyz Gone
Badd sat in their respective homes twiddling their thumbs and
losing money. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]