Dial A Stud, Louis: Dial A Stud, #2

By J. A Melville

Harry….

My parents paid me to stay out of their lives,

Coming out of the closet was supposed to set me free.

It didn't.

My boyfriend had just dumped me,

It felt like no one wanted me.

I wanted to drown my sorrows,

But then I met him.

Or maybe it was more, that he found me.

They say opposites attract and Louis was my opposite,

Worldly. Confident. Older,

A man who had once loved to party.

The attraction was like nothing I'd ever experienced,

Powerful. Consuming. Insatiable.

But he came with secrets. Life changing secrets.

Secrets that could tear us apart,

Yet secrets that attracted me too.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. A Melville
• Release date: Jun 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386206842

Book preview

Chapter One

I t’s over between us . I’m sorry Harry, but I’ve found someone else. I need you to move out of the apartment within the month. You’re a great guy, just not for me. I’m sorry.

Just like that, my life had been thrown into chaos; with those few words, those few horrid words that changed everything. He’d taken what we had and discarded it, treating me and our relationship like garbage to be tossed out to the kerb.

It hurt knowing I meant so little, which was ironic really given I hadn’t loved Zach, but I knew I’d cared deeply for him. He was everything I wasn’t, but now he was gone. He didn’t want me. He’d found someone else and to add insult to injury, I had to move out of the apartment I’d shared with him for the last twelve months, with so little notice.

I sat at my solitary table in the night club, listening to the noise of the music and people talking, laughing, living their lives, while I nursed my drink, tears threatening to fall, and thought about how fucked up and empty mine had just become.

What the hell did I do with myself now? I had to find somewhere to live, that was going to be my priority; a nice little apartment for one? Just the thought of that brought another rush of tears to my eyes.

It wasn’t how I was going to pay for rent that was the problem. I just hated to live alone. I’d never been alone, since I lost my parents. It was nice to have someone else around to share time with, even if it was nothing more than watching a movie together or talking about our days. I liked to see a welcoming smile not a dark, empty apartment.

My thoughts turned to mum and dad and I snorted into my drink. My parents were the two people who were supposed to love me unconditionally, to support me, and to fucking be there for me. They weren’t dead. A lot of people made that assumption since I generally referred to them in the past tense on those rare moments that they rated a mention. No, they weren’t dead; it was simply that I was dead to them.

My mother was the classic society page woman. Well groomed, classy, elegant, the perfect wife to my arrogant, opinionated father. He was in politics; not even that high up the food chain of what I considered wastes of space, but he thought he was, and as such could not handle having a child like me.

The only acknowledgement they made of my existence was my monthly allowance. I think it was like payment for me to keep quiet, to basically disappear.

Given their attitude towards me, I was more than happy to do as they wished. I had nothing to do with them, and vice versa. It was an arrangement that worked well for all parties. I didn’t want anything to do with people who couldn’t accept me for what I was, and they were more than happy to forget I even existed, just so long as I did nothing to embarrass them. As long as I kept a low profile the money kept rolling in monthly. I never quite figured out if that was the bribe to keep me quiet and out of their lives, or whether my shameless acceptance of it somehow made me as disgusting and loathsome as them? Still, I didn’t entirely bludge off them; I chose not to exist by living off my allowance alone, I did work too.

I did some modelling work. Not much, just small stuff; mostly hand modelling of all things. Seems I was favoured for my long, slim fingers. Who would have guessed there’d be a market for hand models?

I lifted one hand, turning it from palm side up to the back, trying to see what the attraction was but it was just a hand to me, attached to the body of the man who’d just been dumped by his boyfriend.

My parents would be so proud. Not only could they not handle having a gay son; they would probably be mortified to find they had a gay son who had just been dumped by an up and coming graphics designer. The ultimate double slap in the face, I bet. I’m sure in their minds that meant they had a gay son who was also a loser. I’d been cast aside by someone who was going places, whereas I was little more than a glorified whore, flashing my body or in this case my hands, to the highest bidder.

Images of Zach’s face filled my head. He was so beautiful to me with his sandy blonde hair, grey/blue eyes and tall, athletic figure. He’d been mine for twelve months, but now he wasn’t, and in fact he belonged to someone else. When had that happened? When had I not been enough and he’d gone looking for more? Was it because I hadn’t loved him? I’d cared deeply for him and certainly had never wanted us to break up, but perhaps he’d known and he’d wanted more, he’d wanted someone who loved him? I’m sure if I’d just been given longer, I’d have come to love him. I obviously cared because this wouldn’t hurt so fucking much if I didn’t care.

I’d always been drawn to men like him. I liked to feel that muscle, to feel their strength as they held me, and when we made love I liked that I felt dominated, possessed and even owned by them. Perhaps it was because I was the polar opposite of them, tall, over six feet, but a much slimmer build; some might say more feminine. I had shoulder length brown hair, longer when it was wet; with enough natural curl it was a daily battle to control it. I usually got the shits with it constantly hanging over one eye because let’s face it, that look might be sexy, but fucking annoying for the person constantly dealing with it.

My redeeming features to me were my eyes, which were green. Some days they were green, some days hazel. It depended on the lighting and my mood I discovered. They tended towards a deeper shade of green when I was excited or emotional. Zach used to joke that my eyes were like a mood ring the way they changed colour to suit how I felt.

I had dimples too, which apparently were ‘adorable’ or so I’d been told before. Not adorable enough to keep Zach, obviously.

Ugh, stop thinking about him. I chastised myself, tipping another mouthful of vodka down my throat. I winced as the straight spirits burned as they went down, settling in my stomach, creating a warm kind of glow; a feeling that helped take the edge of the pain I felt over being dumped.

It was so hard though, and sitting alone in a place where I was surrounded by people all having a much better time than me, wasn’t helping my mood. Why the fuck I thought coming to a club alone was a good idea, I don’t know. Watching couples together, holding hands, hugging, some kissing, simply sharing that intimacy, and clearly displaying how the felt for one another only made me feel more alone, more unwanted and definitely unloved.

When another wave of tears filled my eyes, this time I didn’t make any effort to hold them back and let them make their slow progress down my face, before dripping from my chin onto the cheap veneer topped table. I don’t know how long I sat there, head bowed, letting my grief consume me, before I became aware that I was no longer alone.

Slowly my head lifted and I dashed at the tears with the palms of my hands before looking over at the person who had come to stand by my table.

The first thing I saw was a pair of strong thighs, covered by charcoal grey, expensive looking pants. I paused at that moment almost afraid to look higher. I’d always been a sucker for a fine looking man in a suit. There was just something about them; perhaps it was that confidence and sense of power they exuded, but when combined with a good physique I was reduced to putty.

I lifted my eyes higher until I reached a trim waist and found myself momentarily distracted by the black leather belt and highly polished buckle that threaded through those expensive grey pants. Above the belt was a very crisp blue shirt that didn’t appear to be creased in any way, so this man couldn’t have been wearing it all day, it was still way too fresh looking.

I continued up, intrigued now, over a matching charcoal jacket unbuttoned, to a tanned neck with a slim gold chain adorning it, visible where the shirt was open enough for me to see. Somewhere along the way Mr Crisp and Well Dressed had shed his tie. 

Partially curious but also nervous to see if the face would live up to the promises of this man’s body, I reluctantly raised my eyes the last short distance until I could see him.

When I did I gasped, a hand flying to my chest over my heart, as I felt it skip erratically at the sheer beauty of this creature standing before me.

He was tall that much was obvious. He was tanned, so he must spend time in the sun; clearly an outdoor kind of person. His hair was something between a dark, dirty kind of blonde and a light brown. It was streaked with paler strands of blonde but I wasn’t sure if it was natural bleaching from the sun or a clever hairdresser who had helped achieve that look.

It was his eyes that really captured my attention though. They were stunning; a shade of blue unlike anything I’d ever seen before. Dazzling in their intensity, they reminded me of the Caribbean Sea; so bright and sparkling. They were so startlingly blue they were mesmerising, and I found myself unable to look away.

He had a straight nose, a beautiful full bottom lip that was filled with sensual promise and my weakness, that few days’ growth. It was too much to be a five o’clock shadow but not enough to be a beard. It didn’t matter though. The overall effect of this man was simply breathtaking and I realised at that moment, I’d forgotten to breathe.

I looked at him mouth open, mind empty of everything but him. It was only when I saw his lips curve up in a smile that showed sparkling white teeth that I realised I’d been openly staring at this beautiful man. He was older than me, probably a good few years older. He had that look of a confident, professional person, all traits that sucked me in. He had a lot of presence; that something that would get him attention wherever he went I was sure. I didn’t normally hang around men much older than me, but this one was stunning.

Blushing under his semi amused stare I snapped my teeth together, relieved that I hadn’t totally destroyed my dignity by drooling down the front of myself.

Are you ok? I couldn’t help but notice your distress. I had to come and see if you were alright.

Oh god, his voice alone was enough to cause my heart to flutter and I nearly laughed at the effect he was having on me. So it was true? The heart really would flutter when in the presence of someone truly beautiful, someone that sparked that instant attraction and I was certainly drawn to this man with the handsome face, a body to die for and who was obviously sent to awaken all my fantasies with his well-groomed appearance.

Vaguely I was aware he’d said something else. I had no idea what and I didn’t care; I just wanted to hear him speak. His voice was so deep, smooth, and sensual; it was like pouring warm honey over me and I found myself gaping at him again.

Jesus, I had to get myself together. This was embarrassing and I was probably looking like a complete fool in front of him.

I...I’m ok, thank you. I...I just...I just...my boyfriend dumped me and I’m drowning my sorrows. Pathetic I know but I’m fine, thank you though. I finally got my mouth to work in co-ordination with my brain so I could answer him.

Shit I’m sorry. He must be a stupid bastard to give you up.

He’s found someone else so I wasn’t good enough obviously, so.... I stopped abruptly when his words finally sank in. What?

Mr Delicious smiled again. I said he must be a stupid bastard to give you up. He held out his hand to me. Forgive my manners. My name is Louis. It’s actually Louis Austin Thomas Easton but that’s too much of a mouthful for most. He grinned.

I took his hand, feeling his strong, warm fingers close around mine as he shook it. I stared up at him supposedly brain dead again as I couldn’t seem to respond to him other than to continue gawking in a kind of shocked, wonder. God I really was pathetic. Not only had I been dumped and chosen to sit alone in a club, probably looking every bit the loser I felt, this god had showed up at my table and probably thought I was a complete moron. Why he was even bothering to talk to me I had no idea. 

I studied his large hand with the square cut, perfectly manicured nails that still held mine, struggling to think of something to say that was clever or profound; anything really, other than sitting here gaping at him like a fish out of water.  As I took in every tiny detail of his hand, committing each short hair to memory that lightly dusted his wrist; something he’d just said finally penetrated the dazed fog in my head and I gave an unexpected bark of laughter.

Your name spells... I trailed off; suddenly worried I might offend him if I continued to voice what I was thinking.

Rather than looking offended he merely laughed, a delicious sound that made me shiver with delight. Believe me, I know. My parents obviously hated me. The funny thing is, it’s become a kind of challenge for me to prove that by name, is certainly not by nature. My initials might spell late but I abhor tardiness of any kind, so my family have inadvertently forced me to prove for the whole of my life, that I will never be late. It’s a lot of pressure, probably largely self-imposed, but that’s just me. He bent forward, those piercing blue eyes of his locking on mine. The only time I want to be late is when I’m fucking someone. I want him to come first, always. His voice; something in his tone as it deepened, sent pleasure spearing straight to my balls and I felt my cock begin to stir. I swear this man had the potential to control everything about me. I felt like a puppet and he was the one pulling my strings. I was powerless to do anything; so all-consuming was the aura that surrounded him.

When I looked up at him again, I could see his eyes had darkened as he stared down at me and I felt an answering response jolt through my body. He was definitely hinting at something sexual and although I didn’t generally sleep around or go for one night stands, I felt so rejected after Zach; I wanted affirmation that someone could actually want me and what better way to do it than to let this simply fine example of a man fuck me?

So, are you going to leave me to guess your name or will you tell me? Louis asked and I dragged my mind out of his bed and back to where we were in the night club.

Umm, yeah, sorry, sorry about that; my name is Harry, Harry West. I gave him a shaky smile. Would you like to sit with me?

Well I could, but what I would really like is to leave this place and take you somewhere that is not only quieter but where I can get to know you better. What do you think of that? He asked.

I looked up at him giving his words a chance to sink in. I didn’t normally go home with someone I’d only just met, but I was still feeling so raw, so exposed after being discarded by Zach.

This man standing before me was incredibly handsome. He was also impeccably dressed and I liked a well-dressed man, plus I couldn’t ignore the frisson of awareness I felt when I looked at him. Hell, who was I kidding? This was more than a frisson of awareness. This man only had to crook his finger and flash those amazing blue eyes at me and I would be putty in his hands. There was no denying it. I was definitely attracted to him.

I also liked how he was looking at me. He looked at me like I meant something, like he was interested in what I had to say. I liked the way all his attention was on me, that those brilliant blue eyes didn’t waver from mine in the slightest when I spoke. Maybe it wasn’t real, maybe he was just looking for the chance to get me into bed; I didn’t know for sure. All I knew was I wanted to go with him; I wanted him to make me forget the pain of being dumped, of being made to feel unwanted, unloved. I wanted him.

I would like that very much. I said quietly.

Louis’s face lit up with a warm smile. He held his hand out to me. Come with me then.

I slipped my hand into his and shivered ever so slightly when again he closed his fingers around mine and I felt the pull, that spark, that something he triggered in me when his skin touched mine. Unable to look away from him, I rose to my feet, letting him pull me gently until I stood beside him. I was tall, over six feet but I was pleased to see that Louis was also tall, just topping me by a couple of inches or so.

Wordlessly I followed him as he led me from the club and with each step my heart beat harder, faster, with a mix of both excitement and a little trepidation. I didn’t normally do this. I didn’t go home with strangers, but something about Louis just drew me to him. He was not like any man I’d ever met. He seemed confident, self-assured and going by the expensive suit he wore, he was either a wealthy man or at least financially comfortable.

My speculation over his financial status was pretty well confirmed when after walking through the club’s car park, he stopped beside a low slung convertible sports car.

It was silver, beautiful, something European I suspected, and suddenly nervous about what I was doing I deliberately stalled, needing to give myself time to come to grips with my decision to go with him. I could see the faint tremor in my hand when I reached out, running my fingers gently over the gleaming metallic paint of the car.

It’s beautiful. What is it? I asked, turning to him.

It’s an Audi R8 Spyder. Louis grinned. Do you want the top up or down? He reached out and ran his fingers through my hair taking me by surprise. With your hair, I think I would very much like to see it blowing around you as the wind whips through it.

I struggled to control the shiver that seemed to momentarily take over my body at his touch. This man was too much. I couldn’t think or function around him. All I could do was breathe in his intoxicating scent and feel him, and with his hands in my hair I had to bite hard on my lip to stop the groan that was rising in my throat. I could hold back my groan, but I couldn’t stop my cock from swelling even more until I felt the constriction of it pressed up against my jeans.

I almost winced. I was an advocate for skinny jeans on men and nearly lived in them, but they were not kind when it came to being aroused. They were tight anyway, hence the name skinny jeans, so they didn’t really allow for an erection but despite my discomfort I was painfully hard from the simplest of touches from Louis. If his touch in my hair had this effect, how the hell was I going to take his hands and mouth on other parts of my body?

He shifted his hands to the back of my head and gently applied pressure, forcing me to step towards him until our bodies were a mere hairs breadth from one another. This close to him I could smell his aftershave and some underlying scent that was probably the smell unique to him.

I breathed it in; watching as his head moved towards me, his eyes, those stunning eyes locked on mine and I could do little more than wait, my heart beginning a frantic thundering in my chest as I waited for his lips to touch mine.

When they finally did my body shook, a tremor running through me and my eyes closed. His lips were soft, so incredibly soft and when he pressed them more firmly to mine, the tip of his tongue skimming my full lower lip, I opened to him without hesitation.

His tongue slipped inside, brushing against mine, licking over it; demanding a response from me. He tasted like mint and something else. I wasn’t sure what and I didn’t care. He tasted wonderful to me; he was kissing me and that’s all that mattered right now. I didn’t really need any encouragement from him. I opened to him eagerly as we explored one another’s mouths our tongues touching. His kiss was confident, his lips firmly pressed to mine, whereas I was more tentative, happy to let him have the control.

I felt one of Louis’ hands leave my head and slide down my back until he reached my ass, cupping it and pulling me into him until I felt his erection against mine. I moaned, tilting my hips into him, our bodies rubbing and grinding, our cocks touching through the fabric of his charcoal pants and my skinny jeans.

I groaned, finally allowing myself to touch him, my hands gripping his arms, sliding up towards his shoulders, feeling the shifting of amazingly firm muscles under my palms. When I reached his hair I tunnelled my fingers through it, tugging gently on the incredibly soft and silky strands.

I heard another groan, from him this time but before I could drag him even closer to me he suddenly pulled away, stepping back, putting an unwanted space between us. He stood, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his lips dampened from me, parted as he sucked air into his lungs, his eyes now a darker shade of blue, his desire for me clearly evident in them. I couldn’t believe it. This god, this amazing looking man wanted me every bit as much as I wanted him. 

Will you come home with me? He asked his voice rough with his arousal and I didn’t even have to think about it. I didn’t know him, I’d never seen him before this evening, but there was no way in hell I could walk away. Even if it was only this one night I had to go with him; I had to be with him, just this once. 

Yes. I didn’t bother adding any more. There was no need.

He smiled, turning from me and pulling keys from his pocket. He unlocked the car and even opened the passenger door for me. I climbed into the low slung car, watching as he walked around to the driver’s side.

Once he too was in the car, he started it up and I smiled when I heard the throaty pitch of the engine. Louis looked over and grinned when he saw my face.

He slammed it into gear and with a squeal of tyres we left the car park, heading for his home and for me, the unknown.

Chapter Two

I’m not sure how long we drove before Louis turned the car into a long driveway. It was pitch black outside, the lights of surrounding homes nothing more than an isolated one or two in the distance. We were out of the city that much was obvious, and when he pulled up at a long building I could just see in the dark, I realised I could hear the sound of waves crashing against a cliff.

I wasn’t sure what suburb we were in but it was obvious this was an expensive piece of real estate he owned. The water sounded close, really close and when I lowered the window of the Audi so I could try and get a better look at our location, I could smell the distinctive salt in the air and even felt that fine ocean spray.

Louis hit some button on the dash of his car and the wide garage door before us began to lift. Once it had opened enough, he drove the Audi inside, lights throughout the large area automatically coming on, lighting everything up. I looked around, but there wasn’t much to see besides a couple more cars and some sleek looking motorbike.

When Louis opened his door and climbed from the car, I didn’t bother waiting to see if he would open mine for me, I quickly followed suit and clambered from the low seat, suddenly feeling a bit nervous.

He smiled at me, walking around the car, holding his hand towards me and I realised he was waiting to take mine. Returning his smile, I offered him my hand and felt the already familiar shiver through my body when his fingers closed around mine, squeezing them gently.

I followed him through the garage towards a door at one end and he released me long enough to turn a key in the lock on it, before taking my hand again and leading me into the house.

We stepped into a long hallway that appeared to run pretty well the length of the house. The floor was highly polished floorboards and the walls were painted cream, various paintings hanging on them down the right side, whereas to the left were doorways leading into what looked like bedrooms from what I could see.

I was reluctant to be too obvious looking around but when we passed a flight of stairs leading up to an upper level, my eyes rose to try and see what might be up there.

Louis kept going though and eventually we walked past an open plan kitchen that looked to be sleek, very modern, filled with state of the art appliances, all gleaming in the spotless room.

Finally he led me into the living room of the house and I gasped at the sheer beauty of it. It was large; beautifully decorated with a huge cream coloured modular lounge with various tables arranged around the room. To one side was a massive fireplace all enclosed in glass; beside that a huge flat screen TV and several rugs positioned around the lounge and room.

It was stunning, but what really got my attention was the floor to ceiling windows around the entire room. There were no walls; it was all glass, right around the whole space. The floors were more of the polished floorboards and even though it was dark, I still found myself drawn to the windows, trying to see what lay beyond.

Louis moved over to a panel on the wall, mounted into that one little strip of wall, that marked the change from the open plan kitchen to the living room, and pushed a couple of buttons. I watched as a series of lights came on outside, lighting up a huge timber deck that seemed to go on forever, reaching out over the cliff that the house was built on. I could see outdoor furniture on it, positioned to obviously take advantage of what I imagined would be stunning views in the daytime.

Just outside the windows where I stood was a swimming pool, cleverly recessed into the smaller area of decking to the side of the large deck. At one end of the pool was a huge mirror, mounted to the wall in such a way, I knew it would give the illusion that it was considerably larger than it really was.

I turned away from the pool, away from the water that sparkled under the spotlights that lit up the entire outdoor area, and saw Louis standing in the kitchen by a breakfast bar, his intense blue eyes fixed on me.

When he saw that he had my attention again he raised a couple of empty glasses in his hand. Can I get you a drink?

I wasn’t a huge drinker. Most of my drinking history consisted of my best friend and I sharing a bottle of wine together, while we talked about our lives and what was happening in them. Still being alone with this beautiful man had my stomach fluttering with nerves and I figured something alcoholic might get me to settle down a bit.

What have you got? I asked my voice a little hoarse for some reason.

Beer, wine, any spirits you might want, but I can make you something. He gave a fleeting smile. I used to be a bartender once upon a time, for a short time, until a better offer came along.

Can I have wine please? I waited for him to say something. Of course wine is not considered a very manly drink, or so my father loved to point out to me, as often as possible. I could hear the note of bitterness in my voice.

Your father hasn’t accepted that you’re gay I presume? Louis shot me a sympathetic look before turning to the huge double door stainless steel fridge.

I snorted. You could say that. He’s in politics, not that important really, but still enough that he wasn’t prepared to have a homosexual son. I’m paid to stay out of my parents’ lives but only as long as I don’t do anything to embarrass them. I turned away, staring out the windows, too lost in my memories to see anything beyond the glass.

I’m sorry Harry. No one deserves shit like that. Parents are supposed to support us and love us regardless. I guess I was lucky that my parents have always been very supportive. In fact they knew I was gay before I came out to them. They had sensed it, or at least my mother had. She was so relieved when I broke the news to them. She said she was pleased she didn’t have to pretend anymore that she didn’t know. My father wasn’t quite so observant but he was still very understanding. It’s crappy that your parents are the way they are.

He bent down, momentarily lost to me behind the kitchen bar. When he straightened, he had a bottle of white wine in his hand, the glass frosted from the cold of the fridge. He held it up to me.

This is a Tasmanian grown Chardonnay. Would you like to try it? I like to buy local wines. Keep the money in the state so to speak.

Yes please. I walked towards him, watching as he poured some wine into the two glasses he had sitting on the kitchen bench.

He passed one to me and indicated I should drink. I raised the glass, letting a small mouthful of the cool wine trickle down my throat. It was good and even from that one small sip, I felt slightly calmer. I just had to be careful now, that I didn’t drink too quickly in my efforts to hide how much this man affected me.

Come; let me show you more of the house. Louis waved for me to follow him and when I saw he hadn’t put his glass down, I too held onto mine.

We headed past the spacious kitchen and back down the hallway. One by one, he showed me three large bedrooms, all appointed with queen size beds and ultra-chic modern furniture. After he’d taken me to each room, he paused at the bottom of the stairs. I stopped next to him and looked up briefly, before turning to him again.

His eyes were fixed on me, a flash of something appearing in them before it was gone. He sucked in a deep breath, the movement causing his shirt to pull across his muscled chest, before he let the air out on a gusty sigh.

I think you know what I’m going to ask you. I know that just because I brought you here, it’s not a forgone conclusion that we will fuck, but I think that you know I want you. So I guess the question I have now is, will you come upstairs to my room? Of course I want to fuck you, but tonight I simply want to give you pleasure; I want to show you just how big a fool your ex was for letting you go. So, again I ask, will you come upstairs to my room?

I looked up at Louis, my heart fluttering erratically. This didn’t feel real. This had to be a dream. Was this seriously gorgeous man telling me that he wanted me?

I studied his face, my eyes moving over every single one of his perfect features, before finally focusing on those stunning blue irises. It was then that I saw it, that hint of uncertainty, a fleeting glimpse of insecurity. This was real, he did want this. He wanted me and I sure as hell wanted him. I had no idea what would happen beyond tonight. I didn’t know anything about this man other than the fact he was obviously a very wealthy man. None of that mattered right now. I knew exactly what I wanted.

Yes. I said, my voice little more than a whisper but Louis heard me and a huge smile lit up his face.

Slowly he bent towards me and his lips brushed over mine, just a brief touch, before he straightened again. He put out his free hand, the one not