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Safe House
by M. King
Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/BDSM Erotica
Description: Simon Preston has fought all his life to be the biggest, best, and brightest--but, just for once, he wants someone else to take control. Blurb: Confused and embarrassed by his desires, Simon resolves to keep them secret at all costs, especially from his boyfriend, Frazer. Unable to face the thought of potential rejection, Simon vows he'd rather lose Frazer than admit the truth, but when everything comes tumbling out into the open, there's nowhere left to hide?.
eBook Publisher: loveyoudivine, 2009 2009
eBookwise Release Date: September 2009
 
33 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [70 KB]
Words: 14454
Reading time: 41-57 min.
Simon Preston sat on the edge of the bed and stared dismally at the patch of carpet between his feet. It hadn't happened in days--weeks, even--and he'd thought he'd be okay. He should have been okay. So why couldn't he even do this one, simple thing? He wanted to. Damn it, he wanted to so much. It wasn't fair. What the hell was wrong with him? The covers rustled, crisp white cotton suiting the minimalist dimness of the bedroom. The lights were down low, a tangle of discarded clothes tracing a path from the bed to the door. In the other room, music played, obscuring the soundscape of the city buzzing beneath the windows. Cars, trains, people ... a thousand little lives all filled with their own problems. Simon wished he could be one of them, that he could be anywhere else but here. From somewhere in the muddle of covers and pillows, one lean, tanned hand reached out, finger and thumb pointed together like the beak of a bird. "Hey." Frazer pinched Simon on the thigh. "It doesn't matter, you know." Simon looked down at the rapidly fading white mark on his skin, the pleasant but passing sting of the pinch, and then glanced to where his boyfriend lay. Frazer had rolled over, head resting on one arm, dirty-blond hair rumpled and cool amusement playing over his face. Partly swathed in the covers, he gave the impression of a half-unwrapped gift, discarded before the receiver had got to the best part. Unfortunately, that was a pretty accurate description right now. Simon just shook his head. Humiliation stung the bridge of his nose. "Well, I tried," Frazer announced. With a little clench on his abs he rolled smoothly up, covers slipping from his form and bedsprings clunking at his departure. "D'you want a cup of tea?" Simon scowled at the carpet. "No, I do not want a cup of goddamn tea!" "All right. Suit yourself." Simon swore under his breath. He couldn't stand to watch Frazer walk out of the room, convinced that there would be some look of disappointment or a sign of low expectations fulfilled on his face. Instead, he listened to the footfalls until they mingled with the music, and clenched his tongue between his teeth. He couldn't stay here tonight. Not like this. They'd only been together a few months, and perhaps that was the worst of it. He still wanted so badly to give Frazer everything, to prove ... what? Himself, he supposed. To make absolutely certain that he was the best he could be, worthy of the kind of relationship they were developing. Frazer was a big deal; that much had been obvious from the start. The very first day Simon saw him, down at the marina, working on his ridiculously scruffy, tiny boat, totally incongruous next to the shiny white yachts and blazer-wearing buffoons, he'd been breathtaking. He was tanned, but in that outdoorsy, salt-scoured kind of way, rather than through lotions or sun beds. His body--imperfectly sculpted by sports and not polished with long hours in the gym--spoke just as clearly of that defining authenticity of his. There was nothing fake, nothing studied or posed about Frazer and, even though he didn't seem to realize it, he demanded exactly the same honesty in return. It was that which scared Simon beyond all measure.
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