Chapter 2

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Chapter 2: Encounter

Without a doubt, there was nothing in life as good as waking up with lips wrapped around my hard cock, tongue lapping at my head and frenulum. It was great not because morning head was necessarily better than head at any other time, but because first thing in the morning it was so unexpected, such a great start to the day. And it was special because I experienced it so rarely.

For better, for worse, I'd always been a relatively early riser. I wasn't a morning person who jumped out of bed at the crack of dawn with a big smile on my face. In fact, I was much more of a night owl, far happier staying up late even if it meant cutting into my sleep. But regardless of what time I went to sleep, I always tended to wake up at the same time in the morning, and that time was usually earlier than the few men with whom I'd ever spent the entire night. Only extreme exhaustion or particularly good dreams ever kept me asleep long enough to give my bedmate the opportunity to surprise me with a morning blow, if he were so inclined. I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times this had happened, which meant I particularly enjoyed waking up that Saturday morning to feel warm, wet lips sliding up and down my length.

With great effort, because the pleasure I felt almost dictated that I keep them closed, I forced my eyes open and looked down at the mop of wavy blond hair between my legs that obscured the face of its owner. He seemed particularly dedicated to his task, not looking up even as I moved my hands to his head and wound my fingers into his soft hair to let him know I was awake. He continued bobbing on my cock, sliding his tongue over the sensitive underside as he sucked just enough to drive me crazy without making me come. I moaned his name and he began to hum in response, still without lifting his head to look at me. I threw my head back and allowed my eyes to drift closed again, blocking out everything but the sounds and sensations of the amazing blow job.

He was so good at this, his lips and tongue massaging my entire shaft as he pulled me deeper and deeper into the confines of his tight, hot, slick throat. He sucked and licked and ever so lightly grazed with his teeth, bringing me right to the edge and keeping me there until I was bucking off the bed and helplessly begging for release. The undulating constrictions as he swallowed around me took me right to the edge and almost pushed me over, but he pulled back off my cock just enough to maintain the tension without giving in to my pleas. His tongue flitted relentlessly against my banjo string while I fisted the sheet on my sides, nearly pulling it off the bed completely. I pushed my hips up higher and higher in a vain attempt to force him to take me in deep and finally let me come. I heard his infuriating chuckle, but my silent vows to get even got lost amid my frustrated whimpers.

Then, finally, he relented and began sucking me in earnest, his intentions clear. His lips in constant motion while his long fingers stroked my constricted nuts, ensured that in no time I was crying out in the throes of one of the most intense orgasms I could ever remember, my whole body shuddering with each shot of cum delivered into his eager mouth. My hands tightened in his hair and I may have yanked at it too roughly, but he made no complaint, just drank my juice and lapped at my spent cock to coax out more.

When I truly had nothing left to give I collapsed limply back on the bed, panting, my body covered in a thin coat of sweat. He pulled off my cock but remained at the foot of the bed, his cheek resting on my inner thigh.

"Loved that so fucking much, Jasper. What a way to wake up!" I managed to gasp out.

"Happy to do it," he drawled with amusement. "I woke up hungry for a big breakfast."

I didn't, couldn't respond. For a while there was no sound in the room except for our breathing.

"So I guess we'd better get up and get on with our day, huh?" I asked after I calmed down sufficiently to speak.

"Mm," he hummed, sliding up my chest until his lips were pressed against my nipple. "We could do that. Or we could just stay right here and go for round two," he teased, closing his mouth around the tight peak and sucking gently. I inhaled sharply and my cock twitched despite the recent workout.

"God, you make that sound so tempting."

He looked up at me with a leer and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as his fingers ghosted over my abs. "Exactly what I was hoping!"

"But Baby, we have to get food for the week, and then we have the appointment to see the flat, and tonight there's that new play you wanted to try to see, yeah? So as lovely as spending a whole Saturday in bed would be, we can't spare the time, can we?"

He sighed and looked up at me.

"Sometimes I wish you were less practical," he complained, but the dutifully rolled off me. "Can we at least play a little in the shower?" he asked, his voice deliberately seductive. I just laughed and pointed with my chin in the direction of the bathroom.

Eventually we made it out of the flat and walked over to Waitrose, picking up groceries to last us a week. We stopped at the flat to put everything away, then took the tube from High Street Kensington to Notting Hill Gate. We had lunch with Greg, Viktor and Helena before heading off to see a flat only a short walk away from theirs. I knew Jasper was excited at the possibility of living so close to our friends, and while I loved my neighborhood, as long as we found something in our price range with all the amenities we wanted, I was happy give in on the location. Never mind the shit I would catch for it later from Dré.

We met with the estate agent in front of the building and walked up to the flat together. It had some of the things we were looking for: an updated, larger kitchen, with enough room for a small bistro table, a luxury we did not have at my flat; two bright and good-sized bedrooms; living room with the working fireplace Jasper wanted. Unfortunately, the bathroom was a nightmare, featuring an old fashioned tub that would have been great for soaking but not showering, and would never have fitted the two of us together. There was also absolutely ghastly wallpaper covering every wall, garish carpeting throughout, and no private outdoor space. After the walk-though Jasper and I exchanged a glance and it was clear we both agreed: we simply weren't looking for a home improvement project. We thanked the estate agent and asked her to contact us if she had any similar properties for us to look at.

I was encouraged after seeing the flat. Even if wasn't quite what we hoped, we were narrowing in on our must haves and location. Best of all, Jasper and I were in total agreement about what we wanted. This feeling of harmony, with both of us on the same page and wanting the same things, was so new and foreign, it still managed to surprise me. I wondered how long it would be before I began to take it for granted.

We lazed around the rest of the afternoon before meeting Dré and Vince at Molly's for a pint and a bite. We parted with the guys shortly thereafter to queue up at the Noel Coward Theatre box office in an attempt to get last minute tickets to a sold-out new play. Ordinarily I might have been annoyed at wasting our Saturday night standing around hoping to get lucky with someone else's rejects when we could have been dancing or at the cinema instead. Knowing how excited Jasper was about this particular production, however, and how happy he would be to see it, made the wait bearable. The fact that he was practically glued to me the entire time, focusing exclusively on me and on occasion grasping my hand, leaning on my shoulder, or placing his hand on my chest as if to emphasize a point just to have an excuse to touch me, also made it easy to indulge him. It felt good to be with a man who was so willing to publicly fawn all over me. It was especially flattering when occasionally I'd catch the eye of another guy who watched us with obvious envy, his own partner not being nearly as generous with his or her attention.

I had just looked away from Jasper for one of my periodic scans of the lobby, when my eyes stopped abruptly and I stiffened with shock. Perceptive as always, Jasper immediately noticed the change in my demeanor.

"Rick? What's wrong?"

Even as he asked the question, he was turning to look in the direction of my gaze. I hadn't necessarily expected him to understand, but his "Oh," made it clear that he knew exactly what happened.

Standing across the lobby and staring right back at me with narrowed, furious eyes, was H. His wife, wearing a tailored dress that emphasized her prominent baby bump, stood next to him, but was involved in conversation with another couple, and hadn't noticed that her husband was frozen on the spot like a block of ice.

"That's him, isn't it?" Jasper asked. It was enough to snap me out of my trance to look into his eyes.

"Yes," I confirmed bitterly. "That's him and his lovely wife."

We both turned our gazes back to H., who was still staring at us disdainfully.

"He's an ass," Jasper observed. "And a half-wit too. No one in their right mind would ever give you up for her. She's so ... ordinary!" he said the word haughtily, as if it was the worst possible insult. In a flash I realized that if Ginny had heard him, she would have taken it exactly that way. I couldn't help but laugh, especially as I looked back into his eyes and found them full of his own amusement.

"And you think I'm not ordinary?" I asked teasingly.

"Oh no," he responded in kind. "You are anything but ordinary. You stand head and shoulders above this hoi polloi. Just look at the way everyone stares at you. I am the envy of every man and woman in this lobby, including the moron over there who let you slip through his fingers. You could have been on his arm tonight, but instead he's with the drab little woodpecker while I have my own glorious peacock. And what a cock!" he said suggestively, pressing his pelvis into mine.

I couldn't help but burst out laughing. "Woodpeckers and peacocks Jasper? What are you talking about?"

"I don't know. I'm not really talking about anything. Just trying to distract you and keep you focused on me instead of your ex. Is it working?" he tilted his head to the side and grinned at me flirtatiously.

"Yes," I nodded with a smile. "It most certainly is." I reached to grasp his hand. "As for who is the envy of the men and women here, I think you have that all wrong. Everyone's been shooting daggers at me all night for being the lucky sod who managed to land such a tasty dish."

"Tasty dish?" he pouted. "You make me sound like a starter."

"The starter," I said, stepping up closer to him, "the main course, and the dessert all rolled up into a most delicious, most delectable man. You're not a course, Jasper," leaning in, I whispered against his lips. "You're a buffet. And I intend to come back over and over. I may never get my fill."

I kissed him then, and for a moment we were lost in each other, forgetting that we were in a theater lobby filled with other people. It wasn't until I heard a rather loud and obnoxious female giggle next to me that I pulled back and took another look around. Other than the giggling neighbor, our brief public display of affection had mostly gone unnoticed, but I was shocked again when I realized that H. was still staring at us. This time I thought I caught something else in his eyes besides the fury I'd seen there earlier, though I was hard pressed to put a name to it. If I'd been forced, I would have said regret and longing, but since I knew H. couldn't possibly have felt anything like that about me, I stopped thinking about it and focused back on Jasper.

"Our apologies, Ladies and Gentlemen. All tickets have been turned in and we are sold out," the box office attendant came out to inform those of us still waiting. "You might have better luck at a mid-week performance," she suggested kindly.

"I'm sorry, Sting," I told Jasper sincerely. "We could still go dancing. We can catch up with Dré and Vince," I added, hoping to cheer him up and salvage the evening.

"It's all right," he dismissed his disappointment easily. "Dancing sounds like fun. I'm a little overheated for the theater anyway," he smirked.

I put my arm around him and led him towards the lobby doors. As we walked out, I cast one last glance back at H. He was still rooted in the same spot, only now his head was turned to watch our exit. Without acknowledging him in any way I looked forward again, pulling Jasper closer to me as we walked towards the club.

We didn't mention H. any more that night, and eventually I put the entire incident out of my mind. The way he'd stared at me had disturbed me on some level, but in the end it was irrelevant. He'd chosen his path in life, as was clear by the presence of his pregnant wife at his side, and obviously that path would no longer cross with mine except on rare, purely coincidental occasions. Perhaps somewhat surprisingly, I was fine with that. I had Jasper in my life and I was happy, maybe happier than I had ever been with H. Certainly I was more settled and content. Jasper and I were so comfortable with each other, alone and out in public, that there was never any reason for disagreements or strife. I never had to worry that we'd spend the evening fighting because someone might have seen our hands touching under a table in a pub. I never had to wait at home alone while he went out with his straight co-workers or friends and refused to invite me so as not to create the wrong impression. I never had to explain to my friends or family why my boyfriend didn't come with me to this event or that. We just fit together in every way. Our life was perfect. H. had been a mistake I'd let go on much too long, and I was so grateful that in the end he'd made the decision that made our final parting totally and completely irrevocable.

Sunday and the following week passed by fairly uneventfully, just like any other since I began living with Jasper. At around quarter to five one of us always called the other to figure out who would get back to the flat first and to decide whether we'd get take away, or go out with the guys, or brave my cooking, since Jasper preferred to stay as far away from the kitchen as possible. Whichever one of us got home first waited for the other to bestow a welcoming kiss and hug. Then we ate in and watched the telly or met the guys at the pub. A couple of nights I helped Jasper with his video assignment - an editing project he had to complete in for credit in conjunction with his internship. Jas was passionate about his work and especially this project - a video montage incorporating live action footage and stills with sound and narration overlay. He asked me to be the narrator, and in the evenings we would sometimes sit around his computer recording bits he'd written, or reviewing the work he'd done before he tweaked it again. We took some fuck breaks too, of course, and saw a couple more flats. And at the end of every evening we got ready for bed and fooled around or just kissed and caressed before falling asleep, only to wake up the following day to do it all over again. It was routine, but it hadn't gotten old, and I couldn't imagine a time when it would. Having someone to fall asleep next to every night and wake up with every morning was something I could never tire of. It finally felt like all the pieces of my life were falling into place. I was settled, happy, and at peace.

I should have known that feeling of quiet satisfaction couldn't last long. It was just half an hour after lunch that Friday, and moments after I'd finished my weekly report for my boss, when my desk phone rang unexpectedly. I glanced at it with no small amount of resentment, knowing I would have to answer it on the off chance it was a legitimate call, but fully expecting it to be the arsehole who apparently couldn't forget my number even as he forgot how to use words. I lifted the receiver, identified myself and waited as the predictable silence stretched. I said nothing and he didn't hang up for at least a minute. Finally, I'd had enough. A week's worth of frayed nerves, and the anticipation of who knew how much longer of the same, forced me to speak.

"Listen, you little bastard, whoever you are. You may be enjoying this little game of yours, but you're wasting my valuable time and my employer's resources by tying up this phone line with your nonsense. Call here one more time and I'll get BT to monitor the line. I be a visit from the police will get you talking. You've had your week of fun, but this had better be the last time I hear from you. Goodbye!"

I was just about to hang up when I heard a weak "Wait, please."

I frowned. The voice had been so quiet it was difficult to identify, yet it sounded familiar.

"So you can speak?" I barked, still angry. "Well go on then, who are you and what is it?"

"Rick, it's me, H.," his voice was stronger now and would have been unmistakable even if he hadn't identified himself. I felt a sudden chill.

"Have you been calling me and hanging up all week?" I asked, still angry, but calmer. Wheels turned in my head trying to figure out what he was doing.

"Yeah, I know it's been annoying you," he replied, sounding genuinely contrite. "I wanted to hear your voice, but couldn't figure out what to say."

I leaned back in my desk chair, stunned. I had no idea how to respond to him. My hand was itching to replace the receiver in its cradle. My brain was shouting for my hand to move. My heart just ached.

"What is this about, H.?" I finally asked.

"I don't know. I just... I needed to hear your voice. I've missed you."

"Really?" I was angry again. "It didn't look like it Saturday. It looked like you've been too busy producing your heir to miss me."

I startled myself with the bitterness in my voice, realizing subconsciously I must have been mulling over the run-in far more than I'd been willing to acknowledge.

He snorted. "Apparently Ginny is as fertile as her mother, so that took almost no effort. Good thing, too, because that's just about all I had in me. And now she's a raging mess of hormones and mood swings and cravings ..."

"None of that is of any interest to me," I cut him off before he sliced my entire chest open. "I'm at work and busy, so if there's nothing else ..." I let my voice trail off, hoping he would take the hint and say good bye.

"Rick, please don't hang up. I miss you."

"That means nothing to me, H.," I said, but I was lying. Hearing him say that he missed me set off feelings that I thought were long gone. Feelings I hoped were long gone. Feelings that had no place in my new life.

"I miss talking to you, Rick," he continued as though I hadn't said anything. "You're the only one who ever gave a damn about me, whoever understood what I was going through."

I sighed. He sounded so lonely and pathetic.

"You should have thought of that when you were tossing me aside for your fiancé," I pointed out, far more gently than he deserved. "You made your choice and we've gone our separate ways. I've moved on. What we had is in the past and it needs to stay there. You shouldn't have called."

"I know you've moved on," he said pitifully. "Don't you think I know that? Didn't I see the evidence with my very own eyes Saturday night? Do you know how difficult that was?"

"H., you were there with Ginny, your wife," I reminded him. "A wife that's pretty obviously carrying your child. At least Jasper's not pregnant."

"Jasper," H. was bitter. "He certainly buzzed all about you like an annoying insect. Oh, wait," he paused for a moment. "Jasper. Wasn't he the one you were with at that club years ago? The American you took behind the curtains? I thought he looked familiar. Well that just figures. Fucking Greg strikes again! He was always looking for ways to get between us ..."

"H.," I broke in to stop his diatribe. "There is no us. There hasn't been for a long time. It's difficult to get between two people who aren't together. You went your way and left me behind. What did you expect? That I would just pine for you forever? I am worth more than that, H. I deserve to be happy, to be with someone who loves me and isn't afraid to be seen with me. Someone who is, in fact, proud to be seen with me. Someone who is willing to change his life for me, instead of expecting me to be the one to make all the accommodations. And Jasper is that man. So if you're quite finished with insulting the people special to me, I think it's time to end this call. Have a nice life, and don't contact me again."

"Rick, I'm sorry. Please don't hang up. Please," it was one of the few times I've ever heard him apologize and plead. Once again, my mind was shouting at me to replace the receiver in its cradle, but something stayed my hand.

"Why have you been calling me, H.?" I asked warily. "Why now? It's been over a year and you haven't bothered to call or e-mail or even send a bloody pre-printed Christmas card. What changed all of a sudden?"

"I saw you," he said simply.

"So it's true, then, what they say? Out of sight out of mind?" I laughed sarcastically. "Sorry to have so rudely made myself visible."

"I was able to resist the temptation to contact you until I saw you, yeah," he admitted. "Rick, do you honestly not understand how difficult this is for me? I wake up every bloody morning wishing it was you beside me in my bed. I step off the tube every evening wishing it was you waiting for me at home, or meeting me at the pub, or the club. My life is so empty without you. If it wasn't for my bloody job, I swear I'd go mad. I know what I did was unforgivable, and that I should leave you alone, that I don't deserve your time. But please, Rick, I just need to talk. I need to speak with someone who knows me, the real me. Someone I trust. God, Rick. I don't have anyone I can confide in, and everything is just weighing on me, heavier and heavier. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to handle it. I need to talk to you. Meet me somewhere this afternoon, please. We can have a drink and talk. That's all Rick, I swear. I just need to talk."

"H., I really don't think I'm the person you need to talk to. Maybe you need a therapist..."

"What do you want me to do, Rick? You want me to tell a therapist how fucking sorry I am for what I did to you?; For how I told you about Ginny?; For how I treated you at the wedding? What the hell good would it do?"

I couldn't breathe. I didn't dare inhale so as not to disturb the universe in which it was possible for H. to say all the things he'd just said.

"Rick?" he asked, much more tentatively. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah," I confirmed quietly.

"I really need to say those things to you, in person."

I closed my eyes, grateful that I had an office and that I'd closed the door earlier, so I didn't have to now.

"I don't know, H.," I stalled. I knew I should tell him no, but a part of me wanted to hear these things straight from his mouth. It wouldn't really change anything, but an apology, and outright admission that he'd been wrong, would be something.

"Just leave the office now and meet me. Please."

"Now? H., I can't. Maybe Monday," I left the door open to the possibility. A weekend would help me consider the wisdom of my actions. I could call Greg and get his advice, too, though I pretty much knew what he was going to tell me.

"I can't do it Monday, Rick. And besides, I can't wait any longer. It's killing me not to be able to say these things to you. I cleared my afternoon because I'm bloody useless here anyway. I've been a wreck all week and I can't stand to go a whole weekend without being able to talk to you. Rick, I'm begging you. A couple of hours, that's all. We'll meet in a quiet public place and talk."

He still knew exactly what to say. My stomach twisted into knots at the offer. Being with him in public, for any reason, had always been a treat reserved for the most special occasions. It happened so rarely, I'd learned to savor each time like Christmas morning, loving the anticipation of it as much as every second we were out together where people could see us side by side. Not as a couple, of course. That was never permitted. But even the occasions when we were allowed to act as friends outside of our flat were so few and far between, they carried far more significance than they should. With anyone else, a meeting to talk in a quiet, public place would be so commonplace as to be completely insignificant, but for him it was a concession of the highest order. I instantly knew how badly he must have needed to see me to even suggest it. It shouldn't have made a difference to me, of course, given how little he had ever cared about accommodating my needs, but I didn't have it in me to deny him.

"Where?" I asked, resigned.

"How about Coburg bar in the Connaught?" he proposed. I groaned. I should have known he'd pick the darkest, most out of the way hotel bar he could think of in central London. It made sense, though. On a Friday afternoon, after the lunchtime business crowd had departed, the Coburg would be deserted. A perfect place for H. to make his apologies without worry about being overheard or seen. I hesitated. I already knew I wanted to see him, yet with every step I heard warning bells that I took great care and effort to silence.

I glanced at the picture of Jasper and me that graced my desk. Either Viktor or Greg had taken it at one of their dinner parties. We were relaxing after the meal. Jasper was leaning back in his chair, my arm resting along the back with my fingers gently stroking his shoulder. He faced the camera, his eyes laughing and lips curled up at some joke. I was in a slight profile, smiling as well, but my attention focused on him, the beautiful, free-spirited American who made my soul light just by being in the room. My attention should have been focused on him still, except it wasn't.

With a sigh I turned away from the photo. "When?" I asked.

"I can be there in thirty minutes," he answered immediately.

"I can't make it that quickly," I countered, feeling both dread and exhilaration. "I'll meet you at the bar in an hour."