Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Big bald Daddy was probably straight or taken...
And I am baaaack, for a taste of my third M/M novella from Hard Lessons. REPORT FOR REPAIR is available alone or snuggled up amongst its cohorts in steamy hot gay goodness (print or ebook, we try to please everyone :D ).
Happy Hump Day!
From REPORT FOR REPAIR
by Sommer Marsden
Report For Repair
Chance blew out a sigh as the mechanical voice cooed to him, ‘Please continue to hold …’
‘Where else am I gonna go?’ Chance growled.
‘Here at Sunshine Gas and Electric your business is important to us. We have a staff of highly attentive operators at your disposal. Most waits are under two minutes …’
Chance glanced at his watch. Six minutes had passed. As he waited, his bedroom was already starting to grow warm. He paced to the huge picture window that overlooked his backyard. Below, his nemesis had dropped another limb, once again successfully knocking out the power to his home as well as the rest of the block.
‘I cannot fucking believe that assho–’
‘Good morning, Sunshine Gas and Electric. This is Maria, may I please have your phone number starting with the area code?’
Chance recited it by rote. At this point he should ask for a direct line to his own personal highly attentive operator.
‘And what’s the problem this morning, Mr York?’ Maria chirped. He could picture her all smiling and happy with pink lip-gloss and bright eyes. For some reason that image pissed him off.
‘The tree behind me has dropped another limb,’ he said, trying to keep his voice calm.
‘I see. I’m sorry to hear that, Mr York.’
Chance ground his teeth together and pulled his T-shirt away from his chest. Already he was starting to sweat. ‘Me, too, Maria.’
‘I see by our records that this has happened before.’
‘And the house is still unoccupied?’
‘Yes, that jackass has it up for sale. But he won’t take down the tree.’
‘I’m putting in a report, Mr York One of our employees should be there within the next three hours to reconnect your service.’
Chance blew out a sigh. Three hours. Three. Hours. It was August. It was ninety degrees at nine in the morning and the humidity was about a billion per cent. But three hours was better than four or five or more. ‘Look, Maria, is there any chance they can send a cherry picker and a guy with a chainsaw to just lop the top of this damn thing off and call it a day? It would save us all a hell of a lot of time.’
‘I do understand your frustration, Mr York, but that is not our responsibility. It’s the homeowner’s responsibility to have the tree removed.’
‘I know. But that dip shi … sorry. That person is not in the house and really doesn’t care if his decrepit dead tree keeps knocking out my air conditioning.’
‘I’ve put you at the top of the list, Mr York. You should have air conditioning within the hour. I hope that helps some.’
‘I will take it, Maria. Thank you.’
‘I wish I could do more, Mr York.’
‘I’m sure we’ll talk again,’ he sighed. ‘Unfortunately.’
Chance disconnected and went to make a pot of coffee. He could still boil water and he had his grandmother’s old drip percolator in the china cabinet. It was something. He could pass the time until the tech arrived by watching his coffee drip slowly through the filter. The old fashioned way. ‘Then I can eat beef jerky and hard tack for breakfast and pretend I’m a fucking cowboy.’
‘Oh well thank you, Maria.’ The man was tall and broad. He reminded Chance of a brick wall in Dickies. A bald, goatee-sporting brick wall. The tech’s eyes were hidden behind black wraparound sunglasses. He shimmied up the utility pole like an ape man and Chance took a deep breath to stave off his lust.
It didn’t take him long to reconnect the downed wires. MacGruder’s dead-ass tree was basically hollow with dry-rot. But the limbs were heavy enough to knock down the small lines that fed power to the homes.
Chance held his breath, watching the man hover so high above earth to hook the wires up. Then the man held the pole with one hand, turned slightly and eyed the tree. He shook his head, lips pressed in a tight seam of disapproval.
‘Yes, sexy, that tree is totally fucking dead,’ Chance whispered.
The guy reached out with his free hand and swatted a small branch that promptly dropped to the backyard below. Like rotten fruit dropping to the ground, wood rained down and Chance shook his head. The pieces the tree dropped weren’t necessarily heavy but they sure as shit wouldn’t tickle if one fell on you.
He sipped his bitter almost cold coffee and when the man on the pole turned to eye him, Chance choked. It looked as if the guy was looking right at him. When the man tipped a finger salute and nodded to him, he knew he had.
‘Damn damn damn.’
The guy pointed and held up his finger as if to say, ‘Stay there. I’m coming.’
‘Fuck,’ Chance breathed.
Elvis sauntered in to see who his master was talking to. All 17 lbs of stout miniature dachshund waddled as he walked. ‘That hunk of burning love is coming over here, Elvis,’ Chance said.
Elvis snorted. He had sinus issues.
Chance’s cell phone rang. ‘Chance York.’ He hadn’t even read the display.
‘I need you to… ’
‘I’ll have to call you back, Rebecca. I can’t right now.’
‘But you are …’
‘I know. I know. I’m your personal assistant. That’s what you pay me for. And you let me work from home. Blah, blah, blah …’ Lucky, he thought, that they were also friends.
He could tell she was trying to keep her cool. Chance played the pity card. ‘Look. That monstrous tree dropped another limb. I have no power and I have to go deal with the electric guy.’
‘Oh. But Chance later can you just …’
‘Text me!’ he yelled and hung up on her. The doorbell had just bing-bonged and his heart was going erratic in sympathy.
‘Now we deal with the electric guy,’ Chance said to Elvis. Elvis just snorted again. ‘And I’ll have to buy Becca a whole damn basket of Ruby’s gluten free pecan muffins. To make it up to her.’ His phone buzzed in his pocket and he knew it was the text he had requested, OK, demanded. He promised her, mentally, that he’d do her bidding cheerily for the rest of the week. Surely she’d forgive him.
The doorbell dinged again and Chance put a hand to his heart to still it. ‘Mister Impatient,’ he muttered, taking a deep breath. Then he tugged the door open to find tall, bald and surly standing there. And his heart promptly resumed its erratic state. ‘Hi there.’
‘Hello, sir. I’ve gotten your line reattached.’ The guy stepped up onto the door sill and Chance took a step back instinctively.
‘Thanks. It’s really become a pain in the ass,’ he blurted.
May he what? Chance thought for a moment and then he nodded. ‘Oh, of course. Come in Mr …’
‘Mr Todd. It’s really hot out there.’
‘No, it’s just Todd.’
‘Oh. Right. Todd. Can I get you a soda or some water?’
The guy looked torn which was comical, it was only a drink. Then again, Chance didn’t know Sunshine Gas and Electric’s policy on fraternizing with the clients. And what if he lost his mind and his manners and just kissed this guy? Begged him to do things he knew, just by looking at him, that he could do. What was the policy on that?
‘I’d love a soda if you have one.’
‘I have a ton. Come on in. This is Elvis.’
The fat wiener dog yawned and lay his head down on the hardwood floor. He looked very unimpressed. Elvis was the Zen-like calm to Chance’s fidgety nerves.
‘Elvis,’ Todd said and followed Chance into the kitchen, his work boots leaving fine bits of grit on the floor. Somehow that grit was sexy, at least Chance thought so. Chance poured him a soda with extra ice and handed it over. He watched transfixed as Todd’s throat bobbed once, twice, three times and the soda was gone. It begged the question what else could that mouth and throat do?
Chance cleared his throat, blushing like a whore in church. ‘That tree is a nightmare. And I know you can’t do anything about it legally, but my God, I’m ready to go over there with an axe and just start doing my Paul Bunyan routine.’
Todd’s stern face broke into a crooked grin and Chance felt his heart turn over in his chest. He also felt his cock spring to life in his pants. He started running through his list of errands and chores for Becca. No use embarrassing himself in front of the help by getting a raging hard-on over a smile. Big bald Daddy was probably straight or taken or just not interested in the likes of skinny, pale, blond Chance.
‘I’d like to see that. If you crack and go all caveman on it, let me know.’
Chance saw his opportunity and said, ‘And how would I do that? Call SGE and report myself as a crazed neighbour with an axe.’
Todd fished in his coveralls and pulled out a business card. ‘You could. Or you could just call me and save yourself some time.’
Chance’s cock became more demanding. Jesus. This man up close was a dream. Big, imposing and bald as Mr Clean. He smelled like summer air and hot tar and man. He smelled like fantasy sex and salty kisses and carnival rides. Chance had to force himself to stop sniffing. Even Elvis was staring at him. Their fingers brushed for an instant and his skin tingled with mild electric zings and pops.
‘I could do that.’
‘Good. Now about that tree.’
‘What about it?’
‘Well, it’s dangerous, but not so dangerous.’
‘What the hell does that mean?’ Chance stared out at the towering oak. Once majestic and gorgeous now it was dry and gnarled and ugly. A tree from a Halloween movie or a horror flick.
‘It means it’s dead. So it is definitely a bad thing. But the limbs it’s dropping currently are pretty dry rotted and eaten out by bugs. They weigh nothing. I was tossing them like kindling. Now I did break a rule …’ Todd broke off and stared at the toe of his work boot.
Somehow the small boy gesture made Chance that much more smitten. ‘How so?’
‘I tied the one really treacherous branch to the asshole’s chimney.’
Chance blinked and snorted out laughter. ‘You did what? Why?’
‘Because he has to know how dangerous that thing is and I guess since he isn’t living there to deal with it, it’s no big deal. It could really do some damage, that big one. So if it does some serious damage, it’ll do some serous damage for him.’
‘Gosh,’ Chance said, cringing at his goofy school boy choice of words. ‘I hope you don’t get in trouble.’
Todd took a sudden step in, crowding Chance. Chance liked it. His heart raced and his hands shook just enough to give him a jolt of want and arousal. ‘Gosh, we’re told to secure locations like that to the best of our ability. If the homeowner isn’t living up to his responsibility, we aren’t required to remove the tree but we can secure it, cut it, top it even.’
Chance swallowed hard. At the word top he had a vivid pornographic mental flash of this big, bald man tying him to a bed and spanking him until he babbled. Then fucking him slow and sweet until he wept with his release. He shook his head. ‘Top?’
‘Chop the top right off. But that’s extremely rare that they let us do that and even if I could, I don’t have a crew today. Plus, I’m hoping jack wipe, over there, will man up and take responsibility.’
Chance snorted again. ‘You clearly have never met Mr MacGruder. He’d eat his own toenails before he’d pay for something he could get someone else to pay for on his behalf.’
‘We’ll see. But I wanted you to know because the main branch. The big one that has heft is angled so that it’s most likely, barring a huge windy storm, going to come down on your fence out there.’
Chance watched Todd’s lips move. Heard how he said bigun instead of big one. Watched how his sunburned skin crinkled in certain spots when he smiled. And he almost leaned in and kissed him. But Todd leaned in fast and surprised him so much he gasped like a girl on a soap opera. His cheeks flooded with colour again and he bit his lip.
‘OK,’ was the only thing he could think to say.
‘I’m telling you so that you can get help if you need it. And so you don’t go too near that thing or, perish the thought, stand under it. This is thunderstorm season. It could drop chunks at any time.
He’d moved his weathered face in closer until Chance felt sure he might have a heart attack. ‘OK,’ he said again.
Todd flipped his sunglasses up on his head and his eyes were startling blue. Cool and nearly translucent like water. ‘Good. I’d hate to see you get hurt, pretty boy.’
‘Pretty boy?’ he stammered. Chance considered himself a lot of things, pretty wasn’t one.
‘Yeah, to me you are. You look like getting clocked with a branch might dent you. Break you even.’
There it was – another pornographic flash of being whipped. His body bowing under his new lover. His face a contortion of pain and pleasure. And then the mounting from behind. Fucking like animals. Kissing and sucking and biting and … ‘I doubt it,’ he said, trying to sound brave and strong.
‘I don’t doubt it,’ Todd said and pushed a finger to his bottom lip. Chance stilled, tried to breathe. ‘I’d kiss you but you could sue me,’ Todd said and turned on his work boots and crossed the room in three big strides.
He turned, Chance still staring, moving slow, dumbfounded. ‘Remember, Pretty Boy. Just call to report for repair.’
He shut the door when he left, his boots banging across the cracked concrete front porch.
‘Aren’t you going to ask me out? Kiss me? Do fucking something about this?’ Chance touched a finger to his hard cock. But no one was there to hear him.