Stepbrothers: Colton & Blake (MM Romance) E-Book

H.G. Ellis

• Herausgeber: H.G. Ellis
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

After his father disowns him, Colton is desperate, afraid he'll end up on the street until his stepbrother takes him in. Now Blake is a stepbrother and a roommate wrapped up in one hot, bossy package. Colton doesn't know how he is going to cope.
Blake is offering him shelter and support when no one else will. Every other person in Colton's life is afraid of crossing his powerful, homophobic father. But not Blake. He's strong willed and confident. Colton couldn't stand his arrogance until Blake is the only one who reaches out to help him without expecting anything in return. 
Blake is smart, always rational, except when it comes to his stepbrother. His father's abuse has left Colton with serious insecurity issues. As Blake helps Colton gain some self-confidence, they both give in to their feelings. But Blake is straight. He can't have feelings for Colton.
Will a threat from Colton's father drive them apart before they can admit their true feelings?

Leseprobe

Stepbrothers: Colton & Blake (MM Romance)

By H.G. Ellis

Copyright © 2021 H.G. Ellis

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this publication may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the author or publisher, except in the case of brief quotations used in reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. All characters and events depicted are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All characters engaging in sexual acts are eighteen years or older.

Any person depicted is a model.

This novel contains material intended for mature readers.

Stepbrothers: Colton & Blake

MM Romance

H.G. Ellis

Chapter 1

The text from Linda, my father's assistant, only told me to come see him immediately with no hint about the reason. I came straight to my father's house, and now I'm trying not to hyperventilate as I'm pacing the hallway outside his office.

I know not to expect anything good. My best guess is that he wants to make sure I apply to college so I can start next fall. I already took a year off so I could get up my courage to go, and that made my father furious.

He wants me to go to his alma matter. With the tons of money he and my grandfather have donated to the college, I'm sure I would be accepted. But I won't be going there. I don't want preferential treatment and I don't want to follow in his footsteps. I'm nauseous just thinking about how angry my father is going to be when I tell him.

When I walk into his office, his first words to me are, "Colton, I've been hearing rumors."

This isn't about college. It's much, much worse.

My heart almost stops and my whole being fills with dread. All the dark colors and hulking furniture in my father's office start to close in. I struggle just to keep breathing.

I barely hear my father as he says, "I'm going to ask you if that rumor is true, and I want to hear only one answer."

No. I can't deny it. I won't. "I'm gay," I tell my father.

That's the last thing, the only thing I get to tell him. His face goes pale then bright red, and he bellows at me to get out, that I'm no longer his son.

I hear him through blood rushing in my ears. Feeling numb, I walk out of his office then out of the house. The bright sunshine of midmorning assaults my eyes, making me feel disoriented.

I just got disowned by my father. It shouldn't be a surprise. Ever since I realized I was gay, I expected something like this.

That doesn't mean that it isn't a shock. I feel heavy with a dull pain as I get a ride, but I'll be home soon, at my mom's house.

Going up to the front door of my mom's place, my eye is drawn to the steeply angled roofline of the huge, modern house. The house was chosen by Mom and her new husband, Victor Alcott. To them it was like buying a piece of modern art they could live in.

To me the house seems kind of stark with all those sharp lines, but it's a lot more homey than my father's traditional mansion. That's because my mom knows how to make a house a home, and my father definitely doesn't.

He only knows how to punish and terrify. I should feel relieved that I won't have to live in fear of what he'll do when he found out I'm gay, but I only feel numb.

I'm about to put my key in the big front door of Mom's house, but it opens before I have a chance to unlock it. It's my stepfather, and he gives me a pained smile as he says, "Please wait out here, Colton. Your mother wants to have a word with you."

He shuts the door in my face, and I stare at it then up at the windows above. The windows in front are two stories high, reflecting the bright sunlight. The early spring sunshine seems warm, but waiting out here on the front step I'm starting to feel a chill that cuts through the sun's rays and makes me shiver.

Why was I left out here to wait like a deliveryman? Isn't this my home?

When my mother and stepfather got married and bought this house, Mom told me I would always be welcome here, always have a place in her new family and in her new home. But since I've been told to wait out here on the doorstep, I just don't know any more.

My father just found out I was gay, but my mother has known for a while. She supported me but also warned me not to come out to my father no matter what, that the consequences could be dire.

I wasn't the one who told him though. He already knew and was trying to force me back in the closet. I can still see his eyes turn from angry to cold and unfeeling as he watched me leave. He was always angry and disapproving, but he's supposed to be my father. But I guess he isn't any more.

Still feeling the pain of being disowned, I hear the door start to open. I'm now facing my mom, and right next to her, I see a single packed bag.

Mom's eyes are red. Her lips tremble as she picks up the bag and then places it just outside the threshold.

She steps back like she doesn't want to be within arm's length of me. My eyes question her, but I say nothing. My throat feels painfully tight and my chest hurts. This is so much worse than facing my father's wrath. This is like the ground opening up under my feet.

When my mom finally speaks, her voice shakes so I can hardly understand her. "Your father said one bag only. Your clothes and nothing else. And I'll need the key." She puts out her hand. "Sorry, sweetie. You know how he is."

I do know. Though my parents have been divorced for years, my father is not someone my mother can afford to cross. My father's influence and power go beyond his wealth. There aren't many people who don't fear him. But for my mother to do this. To turn me away.

"I understand," I lie and hand her the key. I don't understand anything. All I know is that despite the pain in my heart, I won't cry.

I was outed and now I have nothing. As far as my father is concerned, I don't exist. He stopped having a son the moment he found out I was gay, but I didn't think my mother would turn her back on me.

I look at her. My mom's face is crumpling with regret. Tears are dropping from her eyes, green just like mine. "This will... get better. It will. Just hang in there. I love you. I'm sorry." She hiccups the words then shuts the door.

Staring at it, I take a shaky breath. Two blows one after the other, my father then my mother. I'm dazed like I really was punched, and I stagger as I step away from the door. The car I took here already drove off. Not expecting to get kicked out, I didn't ask the driver to wait.

Just as well. I have a feeling my credit cards won't work much longer, and I hardly have any cash on me. I can't afford to pay for rides, so I pick up the bag my mother packed for me and I start walking.

I get my phone out to text Gail, my best friend, only to find out that my phone doesn't have service. I can't send texts or make calls. How did the service get cut off so fast? It might have been cut off for a while, and I didn't notice. I was too out of it to check it.

I'm only a few steps from the house. I go back until I pick up the wi-fi signal. I email Gail and some of my other friends to let them know what happened.

Lingering there for a few minutes, I wait for replies. Nothing. That's weird. Patrick is always very prompt with replies, and under the circumstances, I expect Gail to answer quickly too.

I try to FaceTime with them, but none of my friends answer. They're busy, I guess.

I can't wait here, so I start walking again. It looks like I'll have to make Coffee & Crumb my first stop for the free wi-fi. That's my favorite coffee place, and I might even run into some of my friends there.

I won't be buying myself a coffee like I usually do. Until now I never even thought about the price of anything. A coffee was nothing.

I've been living the life of a rich kid. I was dragging my feet when it came to starting college, and I suddenly realize I might not get to go at all. How would I pay for it?

I'll need to get a job just to survive, but I have no experience or skills. And when I make a mistake or feel judged, I freeze up. I've had that problem since I was a kid. It was an issue at school, but it makes getting a job a nightmare.

How am I supposed to get through a job interview? I'm feeling lightheaded just thinking about it so I stop dwelling on it.

The only useful thing I've been able to do is volunteer work that doesn't involve any heavy responsibilities. It makes me feel pathetic, but now it means I might not be able to hold down a job even if I can get one.

First I'll need a place to stay, but I hope I can crash with one of my friends for a little while at least. That's one reason I have to get in touch with them, but I'm also desperate to see some friendly faces. Having Mom turn me away, I feel this crushing loneliness. Seeing my friends will make things better.

Arriving in front of the coffee shop, I see I'm in luck. Patrick is in there. Gail might be my best friend, but Patrick is my oldest friend. I smile as I see him through the window, his phone in one hand, a big cup of coffee in the other.

While I'm thinking how I would kill for a cup of coffee twice that big, I see that I'm connected to the wi-fi. Before going in, I check my email real quick. Still no replies. I look up. There's Patrick staring at his phone. Why didn't he reply to me?

As I'm frowning at him through the coffee shop window, he sees me. Jumping to his feet, he almost spills his coffee. Confused, I watch him hurry out.

He comes through the coffee shop doors, and I go up to him. The smile freezes on my face when I see that Patrick looks panicked. He's backing away, his hands up like he needs to defend himself from me.

"Patrick? What..."

"I can't talk. I have.... things going on. And you know, good luck and everything."

I don't let him walk away. We've been friends since we were kids. He can't just walk away from me. "What the hell is going on?"

"Go make up with your old man, straighten things out," Patrick says and looks around like he doesn't want to be seen talking to me.

"You mean go back in the closet?" I say bitterly.

"If that's what it takes," he says before rushing off.

I look after him in disbelief as he hurries down the sidewalk then disappears from sight. Why am I so surprised by this? Even my own mother was too afraid of my father to let me in the door of her house.

It's still a blow. I keep staring in the direction where Patrick went though he's long gone. Then I look at my phone. No replies. Not a one.

Still, I have to find someone who is on my side. Since I can't get in touch with Gail, I have to catch her as she's going to her job at the boutique.

I head there, and I only have to wait for a little bit before I see her. She sighs when she spots me and shakes her head. "You screwed up, honey. You really screwed up."

"Why didn't you answer my email?" I ask, desperate to hear any excuse, for her to tell me she's still my friend no matter what.

"You're persona non grata, honey. Your dad put out the word that no one is to help you in any way. Just talking to you I'm risking my future. You know I want to be in high fashion. Your dad can tank my career, not to mention that he can ruin my parents. I can't." She shakes her head. "I have to go. I'm sorry. You're on your own. Your best bet is to get out of town, get away from your father and anyone he knows." She starts to walk away then turns back briefly. "And don't even think of asking my mom for help."

She walks away just like Patrick did and I'm stunned. Her mom runs the charity I used to work for, and now I know even she won't help me. My dad cut me off from any kind of help. How much does he hate me?

I'm walking through town and not even looking to run into any of my friends when I see Simone. I'm not as close with her as I am with either Gail or Patrick. Or was. But at least she gives me about three minutes of her time before a pedicure, and her advice is a little bit different from either Patrick's or Gail's.

"You and I both know you'd have trouble doing any kind of job. Find yourself a sugar daddy, sugar," she tells me. I stare at her in disbelief, but she already has someone in mind. "Edmund Hutchins has been asking around about you. He said to pass on a message to go see him at his office. He is a silver fox. But even if he wasn't, any port in the storm."

I hadn't thought of Hutchins, but I'm sure he isn't interested in me like that. Even so, it might be worth it to go and see him. He is a longtime friend of the family, and if he wants to see me, that means he isn't afraid of my father. He might be able to help me get a job.

If Hutchins can't help me, I don't know what I'm going to do. My only option will be to go somewhere where my father can't ruin my life.

When I go to the offices of Hutchins' consulting firm, I have to wait until he gets out of some high level meeting before I can see him. The wait makes me anxious, but I try not to fidget.

To my relief, when he comes into the reception area, he looks happy to see me. He greets me with a hug and tells me, "Sorry to hear about your troubles. I'll take you to lunch and we'll talk."

He doesn't even wait for me to agree, just whisks me outside and to Miguelina's. The smell of food hits me like a punch to the gut and I remember that I haven't eaten since last night.

The first thing I ask Hutchins is about the rumor my father heard. "Where did my father hear about me being gay?"

"The wife of one of his executives saw you coming out of the movie theater with someone, said it looked like you were on a date with him," Hutchins tells me.

"Oh. It was a date. It didn't go anywhere," I say thinking how that one meaningless date imploded my whole life.

I knew I was taking a chance going out with guys, but I didn't think everyone I know would turn their backs on me. Not everyone has though. I am here sitting across from Edmund Hutchins, noticing that he is a silver fox just like Simone said. He is dressed impeccably, and he obviously takes excellent care of himself. His looks aren't what interests me though.

From all the times I've seen him with my father, I remember that he never kissed up to him like other people do. Hutchins had a strong connection to my grandfather, maybe that has something to do with it.

Whatever his reason for not being intimidated by my father, I'm grateful for it. I tell him what happened straight out and warn him, "My father has put out the word that no one is to help me."

"That hardly applies to me," Hutchins says with a chuckle. "Now order something hearty for lunch. You look pale."

"I'm kind of a wreck. I'm not sure I can eat anything. Sorry," I tell him.

"Something light then. You can start with a soup and see how you feel," he advises.

After he puts in the order for both of us, I ask him, "If you're not worried about my father retaliating against you, do you think you can help me get a job. I don't have any skills though. None."

"A job?" Hutchins shakes his head dismissively then leans across the table and smiles at me. "I have something much better in mind for you than some dreary, entry level job."

His meaning isn't clear. It could be that Hutchins knows about my problem and doesn't want to stake his reputation on getting me a job when he knows I'll only embarrass him. But my mind flashes back to what Simone said. Was she right?

Chapter 2

I take another good look at Hutchins. He is dressed in a perfectly fitted gray suit that shows off his trim body. His hair is steely gray and wavy, his voice smooth, his manners refined. He's soft spoken too. Sometimes I can't believe he's even acquainted with my father, who only knows how to growl and glare and has never heard of the word please.

My father knows his own power and wants everyone else to know it and not forget it for even one minute. Hutchins smiles and uses his silky smooth voice even on the waitress as she brings the soup. You would think he was the one working for tips.

Actually she's a lot better off than I am. She has a job and knows how to do it. I would probably drop every dish I touched. I get nervous whenever I feel pressure to do things right. If I screw up, I stop dead, too afraid to make another mistake, and I become useless.

When I decided to take a year off before college and I tried to get some job experience, I blew all my interviews. The jobs I was lucky to get, I got fired from in record time. After that, I gave up and decided to just do volunteer work at Gail's mother's charity. Mostly I helped with paperwork and managed not to screw up too bad. Now I bet I can't even use her as a reference.

Hutchins is my last hope—if he can help me get a job and I manage to keep it. But the way he's talking, I'm starting to get worried.

Hutchins has been a family friend since forever so I felt at ease with him until now. I don't want to assume anything though. He's being nicer to me than anyone else and treating me to lunch. I'm too on edge to eat and just have a few spoonfuls of soup to be polite.

"You really don't have an appetite, you poor thing," Hutchins says to me then he touches my hand lightly. "But don't worry. I'm here and I can take good care of you. You just have to let me." His smile is seductive, his hand warm, but I just go cold inside.

I can't believe what's happening. The way he's acting, it's clear he isn't afraid of my father at all. He must know where a few bodies are buried.

But it's incredibly unsettling to find out that Hutchins thinks of me in that way. And the worst thing is he has me thinking seriously about his offer. I'm not fit for any job, and I know I can't survive on the street. Maybe this kind of arrangement is the best I can hope for.

Taking a steadying breath, I try to find out more. "What exactly...? I mean..." I don't know how to talk about this. It's so crazy, but Hutchins doesn't wait for me to formulate an actual question.

"The way your father is, we can't be brazen about it and invite his wrath," he says but he seems more amused than afraid. He must have something really big on my father. "I'll set you up in a little place in a brownstone not too far from here, and I'll visit you there. You'll be my little indulgence."

His smile is almost predatory and it makes me shiver. What am I doing? Can I actually say yes to something like this when I've hardly done anything with any guy?

"You have that deer in the headlights look," Hutchins says and his smile turns more kind. "I don't blame you. I did spring this on you, and you've already had to deal with so much." Reaching across the table, he takes my hand. "This is what we'll do. First, I have to get back to the office. Irons in the fire and all that. I'll be done by six. That's when you and me will meet up. Just come by my office. And if you decide to turn me down, take this." He slips something into my hand and I see it's cash. "Buy yourself a ticket to the west coast. The northwest is your best bet. You should disappear. No contact with anyone, no social media. If you live like you don't exist, your father won't have any reason to bother you."

As a chill passes through me, I stare at the money then at him. Hutchins smiles at me then pays the bill, leaves a generous tip and leaves me too freaked out to even be able to get up from the table for several minutes.

After I leave the restaurant, I don't know where to go. Aimless walking just makes me feel more lightheaded after not eating, so I sit by the Swan Park fountain and freeze my ass off.

A walk through the park chills me even more so I head to a retro diner where one of my nannies used to take me for lunch when I was little. She loved the oldies you could play on an old jukebox, and when I was a kid, I loved them too.

Right now it's the lull between lunch and dinner, and the place isn't too crowded, so I manage to grab a booth by the window. Being there is comforting though I only order coffee. I don't want to waste money on food I probably can't eat.

They have free wi-fi too, but it doesn't do me much good. No emails from anyone. I never got into social media. It made me feel weird, too exposed and like a hypocrite since I was in the closet all this time. But my friends' accounts are oddly quiet. I guess it would be worse to see them chattering as usual.

Maybe they really are spooked. It makes me realize just how scary my father is. His power has never been this real to me until now. I never experienced his wrath in this way before.

All my nannies were deathly afraid of him. Each of them disappeared from my life. They were just gone, no goodbye. Mom would make some excuse for why they had to leave. Most often she said they left to be with their families.

Losing them so suddenly when I was little, I was always scared and sad. That was my first taste of my father's wrath turning on people around me. I was terrified that he could even make my mom go away.

Sitting in this diner, thinking about my mother just makes me feel sick inside. I can't stay here any more. Plus the place is filling up and I don't want to take up a booth when I don't plan to eat.

I get up and suddenly find myself face to face with Blake, my stepbrother.

Where the hell did he come from? I only saw him at exactly two family dinners since we met at our parents' wedding.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him while noticing his blue eyes and chestnut brown hair and beard. He's incredibly good looking. Strong and fit, he's the opposite of me. I'm skinny with dirty blond hair and green eyes. My eyes sometimes get noticed, but the rest of me is nothing special.

That doesn't matter to Blake. He's straight as can be.

He's serious and smart too. Though his whole family is involved with the classical music world in some way, Blake is studying for a degree in architecture.

But he still hasn't said why he's here. His college isn't that far from here. I expect him to say he's just grabbing lunch between classes, but he looks mad as he sighs and tells me, "Sit back down. I'm sick of running all over town looking for you."

He takes a seat in the booth and I sit across from him, but I'm confused. We never had much to do with each other except politely ignoring one another at family dinners.

At our parents wedding, he was so arrogant, glaring at me while I was talking to his younger sister, Zoe. She is my age but she's a violin prodigy. When Zoe mentioned that she had been staying in a lot of hotel rooms while performing. I jokingly asked her, "Alone?"

She laughed but Blake looked like he wanted to strangle me for trying to smear her good name or something. He gave me a cold shoulder after that, like I was the scum of the earth.

The harsh looks he sent my way only made him look hotter, and he's looking at me the same way now. I try not to notice how gorgeous he is. He's wearing a loose fitting jacket, but nothing can hide that he has an amazing body.

I try to tell myself that Blake isn't my type, but he's everybody's type. Chiseled features, stern, blue eyes... To stop admiring him, I look down.

"How did you find me?" I ask him while fiddling with a sugar packet.

"You mentioned this place to Zoe," Blake says.

I kind of remember that, but that doesn't answer the big question. "Why were you looking for me?"

"Why do you think? Didn't you just get kicked out of your house? I'm here to make sure you don't end up on the street." He eyes me with contempt like he knows I can't handle myself. "You have someplace to stay? Well, do you?" he demands.

Oh, God, he's insufferable. This is why I never had much to do with him. He's always like that, gruff and unpleasant. But he did just say he was making sure I had a place to go. That's more than any of my friends have done.

I can't admit the truth to him of all people though. "A friend is putting me up," I tell him.

Blake narrows his incredible blue eyes at me like he's suspicious. He should be. The only friend I could be talking about is Hutchins, and the last thing I want is for Blake to find out that I'm probably going to say yes to his offer to be a kept man.

"Did my mom ask you to check up on me?" I wonder.

He starts to shake his head then stops himself and says, "She was worried."

Now it's my turn to be suspicious. I think about what might have happened, how Blake found out about me getting kicked out. It would have been his dad who told him, not my mom. I try asking him about that. "Did your father ask you to check up on me?"

"They're both worried," he says but this time I'm sure he is being evasive.

"I'm thinking that you're not a good liar," I tell him. "Neither one of them put you up to this."

He doesn't confirm it, but he doesn't deny that I'm right either. The thing is, I didn't want to be right. I wanted to believe that my mom asked him to make sure I was all right. It hurts to know that she didn't.

That doesn't explain what he's doing here. He can't possibly care what happens to me. Still, he goes back to questioning me. "So who is this friend you're staying with?"

"No one you know," I tell him.

"Your mother should know where you're staying," he says to try and pry a name out of me or to make me admit I'm lying.

But I'm not lying. If I agree to what Hutchins proposed then I'm telling Blake the truth and nothing but. Putting on a confident act, I lean back and stare right at him. "I'm seeing someone. He'll be giving me a place to stay."

That's it. I just made my decision. No trip out of town. I'm staying right here, right under my father's nose, where I'm not wanted.

Chapter 3

I leave Blake sitting at the diner and go to the public library to waste some time. I pick out an art book to flip through as my mind swirls. Do I really have to say yes to Hutchins?

Being in the library reminds me of school. All the drawings I was afraid to show my teachers when I was little. Never speaking up in class. How bad my grades were because I would freeze up when taking tests.

My father would get so angry, scream at me, call me stupid and worthless. Finally he had enough of screaming at me. He made a phone call to the school.

Suddenly my grades improved. No matter how many answers I left blank, I got a good grade. I remember the funny looks my teachers gave me.

Those undeserved grades made me feel sick. But I'm no different now. I still can't stand on my own two feet.

While I'm feeling sorry for myself, I notice that a homeless lady is napping at one of the tables in the back of the library. How long have I been homeless, a couple of hours?

I feel for the money Hutchins gave me. I never counted it, just stuck it in my pocket. Now I get out the money without even looking then casually stroll over to the bookshelf next to that homeless lady. When I see her waking up, I drop the bills next to her.

"Excuse me, ma'am. Did you lose something?" I ask while pointing at the money.

She blinks at me blearily then looks down. When she looks back at me, her eyes have turned sharp and I'm afraid I offended her with my clumsy ploy.

"I'm always losing things. Money is always just falling out of my pockets," she says and picks up the bills. Then she grins at me. Her teeth look terrible, but I'm relieved at the smile.

I nod and move on, find more books to look at while I pass the time and try not to think about what I'm getting myself into with Hutchins. For some reason I keep picturing how Blake would look at me if he knew what I was doing.

At six, I'm back in the lobby of Hutchins' office. Though I'm feeling queasy, I'm pushing ahead with this decision anyway. The receptionist tells me that Hutchins is running late and hands me a big, manila envelope.

My hands feel sweaty as I take it and open it. Inside of the envelope, I find a new phone that actually has service. Hutchins works fast.

Holding a working phone in my hand, I get depressed thinking how there's no one I want to call. Then suddenly I get a call.

The unfamiliar ring tone startles me and nearly makes me drop the phone. When I answer, I'm not surprise to hear Hutchins' voice on the other end.

"I know I said I'd be done with work, but there was a slight snag," he says with a sigh. "I'll make it up to you. I'd like you to go ahead without me. There is a car in front to take you to the place I promised you. And my friend, Lance Dobbs, will show you the place. He lives next door. Sorry about the change of plans."

"It's no problem," I tell him and try not to sound too relieved.

An executive car drives me to a quieter part of town, a street lined with big, shady old trees and expensive brownstones. The car stops in front of one of them.

Once I get out, the driver doesn't wait and I'm left to stand alone on the sidewalk. I could just start walking, not go up to the door of the brownstone, but I think back to telling Blake I had everything figured out when I didn't.

I'm not an arrogant, take-charge guy like him, but I didn't want him to know that. I also didn't want to be wandering around alone, with nowhere to go, so now I'm here, the only place where I'm wanted.

That thought gives me a push and I go up a set of marble stairs to a mahogany door. This is where I'm supposed to stop first so that friend of Hutchins' can take me to my own place.

After ringing the bell and waiting, I start to think no one is going to answer and I'll have an excuse to bail. Then a big guy opens the door. In his thirties or early forties, blond and kind of beefy, he has the look of a former athlete. Leaning heavily against the doorframe, he doesn't look friendly.

"I'm Colton," I tell him.

He blinks at me like the name doesn't mean anything to him, but then his eyes focus on me. "Right. Hutch's new boy," he says and I cringe, but that is who I am. Now this guy smiles as he looks me up and down. "I'm Lance Dobbs. I guess we'll be neighbors. Let me get the key and I'll take you over."

He seems unsteady as he walks away then he's back, jingling a set of keys. Judging from the way he sways as he leads the way next door, he's pretty drunk. I guess that doesn't matter since he's just supposed to open a door for me. He does stumble over a step but recovers. If he had fallen backward, he would have crushed me. Dobbs is built like he might have once played football, and it turns out he did.

"Just college ball," he says but I can tell he's proud of it. He tells me about it instead of opening the door of the brownstone next to his.

I'm not listening closely. I'm wondering about this place where Hutchins wants me to live. I start to ask Dobbs, "Is this place... I mean, did other guys...?" Not sure how to put it, I trail off.

"Oh, you want to know if Hutch stashes all his boy toys up here. He does. He usually wants them close so he can pop in for some lunchtime stress relief or whatever. But that doesn't mean you aren't special." Dobbs is tilting his head to one side and smirking at me as we just stand there in front of the door. To get him to let me in so he can leave, I glance at the door. He takes the hint and unlocks it.

It's so dark in there with all the shades drawn. I can't see a thing. Dobbs stays right behind as I grope for the light switch.

"The light switch is right there." Dobbs points to one side.

I step further in, fumble for the light switch. As soon as I turn it on, he's on me. He has me in a bear hug as the door slams shut behind us. I curse and try to shake him off but can't.

His hot, boozy breath is on my neck as I struggle but can't free myself. In a panic, I start to yell for him to let me go, but all he does is grind into me from behind.

Feeling his hard dick, I twist to one side and try to slam him into the wall. I use all my strength, but it doesn't work. He's too strong. My struggle becomes frantic but it's no use.

He's starting to push me down to the floor, bringing me to my knees with his weight. On the floor under him, I'm still yelling, still fighting, when the front door bangs open behind us.

Dobbs legs are in the way, the door hits him and he yells. Seeing my chance, I try to scramble away. He's too heavy on top of me, but then his weight is suddenly gone.