Victor grimaced, squeezing Chris’s shoulder tightly with his long, thin fingers. For a moment, Chris flashed back to one of his high school football games. It was his freshman year, and he was still getting used to playing with all the new guys at his high school. They’d won, of course, and his father jogged toward him out on the field with a huge grin on his face. As he approached a then much smaller Chris, he reached out and placed his larger hand on his son’s shoulder, gripping it much like Victor was doing right then.
“Chris, are you being okay?” Victor’s melodic Transylvanian voice brought Chris to the here and now and he sniffled, realizing he had gone misty-eyed at just the memory of the love he’d once gotten from his father. A man that now loathed his son with every fiber of his being.
“Yeah, I’m good.” Chris blinked away the tears and attempted to smile, certain it came across as more of a pout, judging by the knowing look Victor gave him.
“I am thinking that there is more to your life that I should be knowing, am I right, Just Chris?” Victor’s grip on his shoulder was bordering on painful now, but Chris couldn’t pull away. He stared at the man in front of him, seeing him as more than this big guy that ran a porn studio or the Dracula persona he exuded. No, there was something very fatherly about him, and the concern in Victor’s eyes seemed genuine, real.
Chris nodded and choked back a sob; he wanted to bury his head in Victor’s chest and cry until his heart stopped hurting. What the hell was it about this man, this virtual stranger that had Chris ready to lay himself bare at his feet? Had he really been so desperate for the attention Victor was giving him?
Victor shook his head, grabbing Chris by the arm and all but dragging him to his office. “Okay, we are changing the plans. You are coming home with me for dinner, yes?” Victor punctuated the sentence with a question mark, but Chris knew it wasn’t a request.
Following Victor out of the building, Chris realized he was anxious, but also excited to see what this unexpected journey held for him. Maybe he’d finally found the place he was supposed to be.
Chapter Six
Introductions
Chris called Michael on the way out to Mamaroneck, a very small township of New York that was about an hour’s drive from the city. Michael was none too pleased that he was traveling outside of the city with a man he’d just met, and demanded to speak with Victor. After a couple of minutes of that entrancing voice, Victor handed the phone to Chris, and Michael was much more accepting of the arrangement. Apparently Chris was going to spend the night at Victor’s home and ride back into the city with him tomorrow.
As they drove beyond the city limits, the scenery became more vivid and bright, the leaves on the trees shimmering in the midday sun. When the driver pulled onto a gravel road and the trees opened up, he could see out over the water. Chris gasped. “It’s beautiful,” he whispered.
“It is, indeed,” Victor agreed. There were boats and houses lining the waterfront area parallel to the road they were on, and the sky was blue with pillowy, white clouds, so unlike the city that was constantly covered in a cloud of dust and pollution. The car turned onto a dirt-lined driveway and stopped next to a simple but elegant brick home with white trim. It was a three-story house with a lush, green yard that looked out over the water; a large maple tree with an actual tire swing hanging from one of the branches sat adjacent to the porch that wrapped around half the house.
Chris climbed out of the car and quickly headed toward the side of the yard that looked out onto the water. Grass greener than he’d seen since leaving Alabama dropped steeply down a hill, merging into the blue water of Long Island Sound, the colors blending together flawlessly; it was nothing if not breathtaking. Chris turned when he heard the screen door squeak, then slam shut. A man, probably in his early to midthirties, with black, curly hair and exquisite blue eyes walked straight over to Victor and kissed him, intimately, before turning his attention toward Chris. He smiled, extending his hand as he walked toward him. “You must be Chris. I’m Andrew, Victor’s partner.”
Chris shook the offered hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Andrew.”
The back door to the house opened, and three more guys tripped over each other and the steps to be the first to get to Chris, each introducing themselves to him. Gabe was short and slim with long blond hair tied into a ponytail. Chris thought that if he were looking at Gabe from a distance, he might mistake him for a woman. Kory was tall and broad, much like Chris, but he had short, buzzed, dull brown hair and equally dull brown eyes. Dusty was familiar to Chris, though he couldn’t place from where. His skin was a deep, dark bronze, and his brown hair had gold streaks in it, most likely from the sun. Chris held his hand a little longer than the others. “Do I know you from somewhere?” he asked, certain they’d met before.
“I don’t think so,” Dusty said playfully, eying Chris up and down very slowly. “I think I’d remember meeting your fine ass,” he said, running his tongue over his bottom lip, winking at him. Before Chris could come up with an appropriate response, Victor smacked Dusty on the ass and shooed him and the other two toward the house.
“Wait.” Chris snapped his fingers, remembering where it was he knew Dusty from. “Club Berlin, right? You were dancing in one of the cages, I think.”
Dusty turned back to him, a gleam in his eyes. “You’ve been to Club Berlin? Are you sure he’s straight, Vic?”
Victor sighed. “You just be leaving the new guy alone.”
Dusty blew Chris a kiss, winked, and ducked out of the way when Andrew reached for him, laughing as he shot up the steps and into the house. Victor stopped on the bottom step, looking over his shoulder and beckoning Chris to follow. “Come, come, you meet others.”
Just inside the screened-in porch that held a variety of wicker lawn furniture, a fire pit, and a flat-screen TV was an enormous kitchen with two refrigerators and a very large, scary-looking stove. A long marble-topped island stretched across the middle of the kitchen and what could only be described as the biggest dining room table he’d ever seen, with twelve chairs around it, was off to the far side of the room.
“My goodness, just look at those muscles and all that ink.” The petite blond, Gabe, stood beside him, leaning against the kitchen island, a beer in each hand.
Chris took the one Gabe offered. “Thanks.” They clinked their bottles before taking swigs. “Delicious, that hits the spot.”
“So, what name are you going to use? On-screen.” Gabe asked.
“My name, but with a ‘K’ instead of the ‘Ch.’ ” Andrew set a plate of cheese and crackers on the island, calling out to the guys in the den to come have a snack. Chris reached over Gabe and grabbed a couple of pieces of cheese, tossing them into his mouth.
Dusty leaned back in the chair he was sitting in. “Gabe, grab me some of everything and throw it on a plate, would ya?”