Object of Desire by William J. Mann Read Free Book Online

loved him so much, I felt as if my whole body would explode, arms and legs strewn across the beach. I fucked him right there on the open sand, kissing him the whole time, our bodies entwined, two dogs in the surf. I finally understood what they meant when they talked about falling in love.
    â€œFuck!”
    I pulled out in time to whip off the condom and shoot ropes of semen across Ollie’s chest. Breathing heavily, I steadied myself with one hand on the bed, accidentally hitting the remote control. America’s Next Top Model suddenly flashed once again on the screen behind me.
    Ollie came himself then, a paltry dribble compared to my cannon shot. I was already out of bed, flicking off the TV, hunting for a towel in the bathroom.
    â€œThat was hot,” Ollie said as I returned, settling in beside him, pressing the towel against his chest.
    â€œA quickie,” I said. “Maybe we’ll go a bit longer in the morning.” I smiled. “I’m a little drunk. Three martinis tonight.”
    Ollie shrugged. “Didn’t affect the performance.”
    â€œThanks.”
    We were quiet, sitting shoulder to shoulder against the pillows. Outside the wind had picked up. The glass in the windows rattled almost imperceptibly, but I could hear it.
    I had begun to nod off when Ollie spoke again.
    â€œI’m getting a new job.”
    I opened my eyes and turned to face him.
    â€œI’m going to be the manager of Spencer’s Gifts,” he said. “It’s in the mall, too.”
    I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.
    â€œI figured Ritz Camera was pretty much a dead-end job, you know? How many people still take pictures on film to be developed? Even though we’ve started selling digital cameras and webcams and stuff, I really think I’ve gone as far there as I ever can. But people will always need to buy gifts, you know?”
    I nodded, closing my eyes again. Yes, people would always need to buy glow-in-the-dark posters of heavy metal bands and mugs made in the shape of women’s breasts.
    I felt immediately guilty for being judgmental. How different was I, really, from this kid? I’d never gone to college; I’d never had any great-paying job. But I was different from him. I’d had one very important thing that he didn’t have.
    Ambition.
    Even if it had almost killed me.
    We dozed off, but I woke up quickly; the lights were still on, and Ollie had slumped forward onto my chest. I gently moved him down into a more comfortable sleeping position and got up to switch off the lamp. Climbing back into bed beside him, I lay facing the ceiling, eyes wide open. Ollie began to snore, a nervous little whistle tickling my ear. I turned on my side, willing sleep to come. But even as I tried, I knew it was futile. I wasn’t going to fall asleep. Not here. Not tonight.
    I waited until Ollie’s snoring had reached a steady rhythm. Then I slipped out of the casita, padding naked past the swimming pool, the pungent fragrance of rosemary hanging in the dry night air. Through the glass sliders, I stepped into the dining room. The clock on the mantel was ticking off the seconds with a fierceness undetectable during the day. In the bathroom, I brushed my teeth and washed my hands and applied a hot, wet cloth to my cock. That would have to do for washing up after sex. I was exhausted. In our room, Frank was sound asleep. His own snoring was far deeper, far more profound than Ollie’s tremulous whistle. Pulling back the sheet, I climbed in beside him, pressing my chest against his back, my lips against the soft white fur on his shoulders. I snaked an arm around him. He stirred.
    â€œBaby,” he mumbled.
    â€œI’m here,” I told him.
    In moments, we were both asleep.

WEST HOLLYWOOD
    Twenty-One Years Earlier
    O ut of the hundred or so men gathered around me, I noticed him right away. He was an older guy, maybe even thirty. Well preserved for his