Needing To Forget

LEONARD:

Dropping my jacket on another couch, I sat on the glass table in front of Eric, taking in his radiant face.

It was still unbelievable how a man could be so beautiful. With naturally carved-sleek eyebrows, long lashes, full lips, and flawless cheeks…Eric could easily pass a woman. He did, clearly. Even as I had witnessed the thing between his legs, I still swore to myself that he was a woman.

When I thought of it, Bernard was the one who had fallen for the wrong gender. He was the gay one, not me. Because all I did was fall for the woman in front of me, while he fell for a woman… claiming she was a man.

Okay. I’m also becoming senseless.

I lifted my hand to his hair, brushing the fallen strands from his face. Though he kept it short, it was still long enough to give him a feminine edge.

He shifted at my touch, stretching and parting his lips slightly. The attraction came at once. The force—that pull to those lips…magnetised my reasoning. Before I could stop myself, I leaned in to kiss him.

“Food is here.”

I froze, eyes shut, as Tracey’s voice erupted, frustration and embarrassment clashing in me.

I stood to allow her space to set the tray on the table.

“Anything else, sir?” she asked after placing the dishes in their separate plates.

“Thank you, Tracey.”

“Then…it’s a good night.”

Just go home.

She stepped out but halted at the door.

I knew it.

“You know, sir,” she said. “You don’t owe anyone an explanation for whoever you choose to be with. I’m sure you already know that, but I just needed to say it.”

“Thank you, Tracey.”

“Good night, sir.”

“Don’t say it again,” I smiled.

“I mean it this time.”

She turned…but stopped again.

“What now?”

“There are cameras everywhere,” she smirked. “Just a quick reminder.”

What the hell? Cameras? A quick reminder? Like I was going to…?

But she was gone before I could defend myself.

Still having an appetite wasn’t the strange part. Eating while staring at Eric, replaying Tracey’s warning in my head like it was the thread holding me back from ruin—that was strange.

Tracey had always carried herself strictly despite being barely thirty. I wouldn’t call her a friend, but she was reliable…closer than most.

She was a hostess on the flight that brought me back home after years in the States. After the turbulence I thought would end me, she trembled so badly she spilt coffee on a passenger, who turned aggressive on her.

It was obvious she didn’t belong in that job. Too softhearted for the skies.

Two weeks after I took over the company and publicised an opening for a secretary, she submitted her application.

I shouldn’t have cared. I never cared about anyone. But Tracey’s shaking hands stayed etched in my mind. It wasn’t attraction—I knew that. It was responsibility. A need to save her.

Even with her air experience, her portfolio fell below the required standard, but I singled her out for immediate employment. Everyone was shocked, including her. I still remember her first day as my secretary; she came crying and promising to work diligently until she bore grey hair.

It’s been eight years. She has kept her word…working, improving, and giving me no reason to be tired of her.

She never knew about our first meeting. No one did. Back then, I was unknown. We simply grew bond, stripped of sentiment.

Except lately, she had turned into my mother, warning me like a child sneaking sweets. The irony? Her warning planted the very thought I now fought against.

I surrendered to sleep after my meal and the exhaustion of bearing the cameras on my mind. I dozed off on the couch across from Eric.

Then a dark shadow hovered over me. My eyes flashed open. Eric. He was leaning just a breath away.

“I was adjusting the cover on you,” he muttered, eyes wide, lips shuddering.

Those lips. Inches from mine.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered, stepping back with the blanket.

But I caught his wrist and pulled him down onto my lap. He dropped the blanket, shivering against me. Eyes closed, I pressed my forehead against his. “Lucia…” I breathed.

He exhaled nervously. “It’s Eric.”

“Lucia,” I repeated.

“Are...are you drunk?”

Drunk? No. I knew it was him. But I needed him to be Lucia one more time. Especially now.

“I miss you,” I whispered, my finger tracing his lips. He quivered.

“Leo…” he moaned softly into my touch.

It came earlier than expected, but the sound lit me alive. Still, I wanted him to understand something.

“I miss you…Lucia,” I said, praying he wouldn’t correct me.

I needed him. I wanted to taste him in the pretence of Lucia. That was the only way I could carry on.

“Leonard. I miss you too…”

The words barely escaped before I claimed his lips. The same electrifying wave drilled through me, rushing down to my cock. I hardened instantly.

His hand threaded into my hair, tugging hard as he kissed me back needily. His grip was both painful and soothing, his lips devouring me while pressure built below. I poked out of my pants, throbbing for mercy.

Moaning, he tore at my shirt, undoing my buttons in seconds. My chest went bare.

Ready for him.

Ready—despite the cameras.

Whatever. I wouldn’t be the first to do this in the office…Nathan would have been a star from his numerous clips. Moreover, I could order the footage wiped. This was my company. Tracey had forgotten that.

Eric’s mouth found my chest, lips enclosing around my nipple. Suckling. Licking. Spark raced through me. Multiple sensations. Internal aches…aching for more.

His tongue slid across my chest, to my neck, back to my lips. He brushed, then plunged his tongue into my mouth. Heat swallowed me whole.

I moaned, his tongue tangling with mine. And when his hand pinched my other nipple, I let out a deep groan, vibrating from the exciting sting. I shoved him closer, grinding my hardness against him.

He got the message. He knew what I craved for.

But instead of freeing my cock, going down on his knees and blowing my mind again, he took my hand and pressed it on his own hardness.

The moment shattered. Like it had never begun.

He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have reminded me.

I pushed him off, buttoning my shirt, my dick suddenly losing its bulge.

He saw it. His eyes dropped to my deflated cock, and his face crumbled into sobs.

“Leonard…”

“I’ll drop you off,” I muttered, walking out.

“Leonard,” he clung to me from behind. “Let’s try again. Please.”

I peeled his hands away and faced him. “Lucia is the one I want.”

“I’ll be Lucia. I will be anything for you.”

“Stop. This is the limit.”

I meant it this time. I admired his beauty, truly. I hardened for the illusion of Lucia, but the reality of Eric killed it.

“Leo, don’t discard me. I need you.”

“Don’t waste your feelings.”

“We can make it work. I’ll do anything. I’ll transition. I can be a real woman. I can.”

I scoffed. Shocked. “Are you insane? Why would you do that?”

“Because I love you…”

“Why not love some gay guy who already loves you? Bernard is crazy about you. You can build up with him.”

“Leo,” his voice hardened. “Do you not care about me?”

“Even if I did, I can’t be what you want.”

“I can be what you want. You don’t have to change. Let me make the sacrifices.”

Eric had gone mad. I couldn’t bear to watch.

I grabbed my jacket. “See yourself out.”

The truth? I was the insane one.

My cock chose, but my heart ached. I forced myself to think with lust, not love. Forced myself to be straight with my body, not gay with my heart.

If I gave in to my heart, I’d run back to him. But I didn’t want to. Bernard was one reason. And that cruel truth—hard for Lucia, soft for Eric—was another.

“Need company?”

A voice chimed beside me.

I turned to see a woman slip onto the stool next to mine. I had driven to a bar after abandoning Eric.

“Oh dear,” she hissed when our eyes met. “Leonard Hays.”

“What a bad market,” she snorted under her breath. I still heard her.

“How much?” I asked flatly.

“Call your waiter for the bills,” she said, sliding off.

“How much for a night?”

Her lashes fluttered. “A hundred,” she stammered.

“A million,” I countered. “Only if you can ease my aches.”