Chapter One Leap of Faith

As I said earlier this month I thought about posting a blog story. This is Not a blog story but a sort of test. I'm not sure how often I should post or how long so I'm going to mess around and yall get to watch me fumble around.

I donated a story for an anthology that I have the rights back to. It's a fluffy story. My first attempt at contemporary and only around 8k. I'm going to expand this and fill all of the spaces in between and give it a nice sexy afterwards. :) Alas, I have a few stories to complete before and I didn't want this sitting on the shelf gathering dust if someone would like to read it.

The inspiration for the story was an image I had in my mind of a geeky guy waiting for an elevator wearing a pair of silver go-go boots and itty-bitty shorts. He is joined by a huge intimidating biker dude. What happened? Why are they there? Where do they end up? I hope you enjoy the little bit of fluff!

The schedule I have settled on is a post every other day starting today. :)

Copyright © 2013, Lexi Ander

A Leap of Faith

Blurb:
After building his business from scratch with his lover, Ben prepared to take the next step and marry Javier, the man he loved. How could he have known that being the surprise at Javier's bachelor party would change everything? Heartbroken and lost, a chance encounter with a kind stranger gives him a helping hand.

Dawson didn't realize giving Ben a place to stay for a couple of days would change his life or gain him a friend. He only wished Ben wanted more than friendship. A small misunderstanding makes Dawson realize he may have read Ben wrong. Does Dawson have time to correct his mistake before the past comes back and tries to take Ben from him?

Chapter One

 

Benjamin Hamilton squatted, hunched in the small confined box, for so long that sweat was running down his back. He estimated he'd been in the fake cake for five minutes or so but these things weren't made for a person's comfort. How had he thought this was a good idea for a surprise?

Oh, wait—it was Annie who'd talked him into doing this. His sister had picked out the outfit, if that is what you'd call the little bit of clothing he wore. He'd never seen so much glitter in his entire life. The sparkly stuff had gotten everywhere, and some of those places weren't remotely comfortable. His normally messy blond hair was carefully spiked, the tips bleached white. Annie had helped him with the eyeliner. Ben thought he resembled a raccoon but his sister swore his hazel eyes popped. He was sure that before he jumped out of the box that eyeliner would join the sweaty ooze of sparkly spackle and he'd appear truly hideous. Everything from his pits to his groin had been waxed, an experience he'd never put himself through again. Pain wasn't his forte and hair removal was painful no matter what anyone said.

How much longer did he have to wait before they rolled him into the bachelor party? In two days, Ben was marrying his fiancé and business partner, Javier Salvador. Five years ago, he and Javier started an advertising firm together. In that short time, the business had grown by leaps and bounds, making them very successful men.

Ben's family came from money but he wanted to make his own way. Even though his parents were dying to help him out, he steadfastly refused, despite Javier's worry they'd go belly-up in the beginning. Ben's stubbornness caused more than one fight with his lover but Ben was glad he'd stayed firm because now they were a successful independent firm.

Stable and profitable, the only thing left to complete his dreams was to marry his lover. Ben had proposed to Javier in front of family and friends at a private get-together at the home they'd built together in Malibu. Ben's parents were ecstatic. They adored Javier and treated him like a son.

Holding on to his patience as he waited, he pictured Javier's surprise. Ben imagined Javier with his suit jacket open, tie pulled loose, slouched tiredly in a chair. Javier would want to be home with him, and not drinking at a bachelor party, until Ben stepped out of the fake cake. Ben could see in his mind how his lover would run his hand through that silky black hair as lust-clouded eyes traveled down Ben's body. He anticipated lots of kissing, groping, and some very hot sex.

Recently, the wedding had caused tension between the two of them. Ben knew it didn't help that exhaustion from their hectic schedules had them falling to sleep as soon as they hit the bed. He missed the alone time with Javier, and he excitedly anticipated their two week honeymoon in the Caribbean. No work, no more planning, no more parties, only the two of them. The surprise would be the opportunity they needed to get a jumpstart on their honeymoon.

He braced himself to keep balanced in his squat position as the cake rolled down the hall of the hotel. The blare of music drowned out all other sounds. The knock on the roof signaled he'd arrived. His heart beat hard and fast as he counted down from twenty. He braced his feet, hit the switch, and carefully stood up. The switch released the walls of the cake, allowing them to fall outward as he stood up.

Words stuck to the tip of his tongue as confusion took over. The surprise he was going to shout stuck to the roof of his mouth. The scene that met Ben's eyes made him wonder briefly if he'd been delivered to the wrong room. He stood there in a pair of silver-sequined boy shorts and silver go-go boots. Covered in sweat and glitter, his skin now chilled outside the hot box, but that wasn't what had caused the goose bumps that peppered his body. His hazel green eyes slowly scanned the room with rising horror and trepidation.

This was unlike any bachelor party he'd ever gone to. Out of the multitude of faces, Ben recognized only a handful of people. There wasn't a body that wasn't actively engaged in a sex act. Men and some women writhed around on the furniture, the floor, any flat surface, and some vertical surfaces as well. He wondered dazedly why hotel management hadn't been called.

With a falling heart, Ben searched for his fiancé. Off in a corner, Javier had John Weis from purchasing over the back of the arm chair. Javier's golden brown skin appeared rich against John's pale complexion as Javier ate John's ass. Javier always balked at rimming Ben. He loved it when Ben indulged but refused to return the favor. Well—only with him because John, on the other hand, yelled like Javier was doing a damn fine job.

Ben's eyes began to burn and he noticed a fine tremble in his hand when he reached up to rub the back of his neck. He scanned the room, relieved he didn't see his best friend, Sam Nolan. He tried to block out the noises, ignore John's growing excitement as he spoke dirty words to Javier. Everywhere he turned there was sex, the potent smell of cum, the lurid sound of people engaged in fucking. Over all the activity he still heard John's whining, nasal voice prompt Javier to give him more, lick him deeper, to not stop. Ben blinked rapidly, struggling to draw a deep breath. His chest felt as if there were steel bands squeezing him and he knew he had to get out of there quickly. Ben started for the suite's double doors, struggling to control his emotions.

The door to another room opened and out walked Sam, bare-ass naked, carrying a box of condoms and a tube of lube. The pain of treachery bloomed in Ben's chest as Sam walked up behind Javier and palmed Javier's ass.

"I found them, babe. Here, stand up and I'll put it on for you," said Sam as he knelt behind Javier.

Dropping a kiss on the small of John's back, Javier stepped away. His erection pointed at Sam's face. Sam brushed sandy hair out of his eyes before he placed a condom in his mouth, and then expertly rolled the latex down Javier's shaft.

"Oh, yeah, babe, just like that," Javier started pumping in and out of Sam's mouth. "Yeah, you like taking my dick, suck me, suck me hard." Javier grabbed Sam's hair and actually started choking Sam on his cock.

Ben cringed but Sam seemed to eat up the rough handling.

"Javier, don't forget about me," John whined, wiggling his ass at Javier, which garnered him a stinging slap on the butt.

After pulling out of Sam's mouth, Javier added lube to his sheathed cock and John moaned aloud as Javier pushed inside him and started a slow steady rhythm. Sam hopped to his feet, rolling on his own condom. Javier paused as Sam gradually slid into him.

"God, babe, you're so fucking tight on my cock. I'll never get tired of the way you feel," Sam groaned loud and clear.

"Need you, Sam, need you to pound me with your fat cock. Don't stop, don't ever stop," Javier gasped as Sam set a hard, fast rhythm that shoved Javier into John.

Ben stood there frozen, watching as his life tumbled down around him. How long had Sam and Javier been lovers? How many employees had Javier fucked at the office? How many people who worked for him knew and either pitied his naiveté or laughed at his blind stupidity? How had he not noticed something had been going on? How could he not have picked up on the nuances between Javier and Sam? Was he that oblivious? His stomach rolled as he watched the two most important men in his life betray him.

Sam had been his best friend since childhood. They'd come out to their parents together. They'd shared everything, and it appeared, he'd been sharing Javier with Sam too. He felt inexplicably lost, set adrift, and he didn't know what he'd do. He trapped a ragged sob behind clenched teeth but it didn't stop the tears from falling.

"The stripper's here." Someone called from behind him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Good, have him come over here and put his cock in Javier's mouth," Sam called.

Ben's legs were rooted to the spot and refused to cooperate. He mind screamed for him to move, to hurry before anyone recognized him. He wanted to hide, to be invisible. All his dreams were gone, stolen, taken away by secrets and lies. Shouldn't he be mad? His mind said he should be but all he felt was a body-numbing chill that made his heart feel too large for his chest. He didn't want to be seen or talk to Javier right then. But at that moment, Sam glanced over his shoulder and the happy bliss drained from his face as he recognized Ben staring back at him.

Coolly, Ben turned and walked out the door. He strode on wooden legs down the hall to the elevator. Pressing the call button with more restraint than he felt, he watched the progress of the elevator in the numbers overhead. He wondered if it would be quicker if he used the stairs. Forty floors were too many to attempt at any other time, but now the need to leave nearly made him throw away caution.

A tall, dark-headed man who carried a heavy leather jacket and motorcycle helmet approached from the opposite direction. The guy's visual perusal reminded Ben of the ridiculous costume he wore. How did he ever think these sequined boy shorts would turn Javier on? Now he had nowhere to go with a muscular hunk walking toward him. The biceps on the guy would crack Ben's paper-pushing ass in half just by flexing. He watched the man from the corner of his eye. He never knew how people were going to react. A straight man wouldn't be caught dead in the outfit he wore. The last thing Ben needed was to get his ass handed to him if the guy was offended.

"Some party." The stranger placed the helmet under his arm.

He wasn't as tall as Ben had thought. They were about the same height, though the guy was wide, very wide, with much more shoulder width than Ben… and the most amazing crystal blue eyes.

"I guess you could say that. My fiancé appears to be fucking his way through our employees and my best friend is fucking my fiancé." Ben stopped breathing. Had he just blurted—yes he had.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

The man held his helmet out to Ben and he automatically accepted it. He didn't know why. Maybe it was the way the stranger didn't blink when Ben said his fiancé was a man. The guy pulled on his heavy motorcycle jacket.

"I guess the upside is you found out before you got hitched."

He rested the helmet against his stomach, attempting to hide his body while swallowing back his anguish. The elevator dinged and the doors silently slid open. The stranger motioned for Ben to enter first before following.

Ben heard his name being called and he couldn't help the way he flinched. Sam slammed his hand on the elevator door to keep it from closing. His chest was bare and sweaty, Sam's jeans hung loose on his lean hips.

"Ben, wait, let me explain."

He could only stare at his best friend. What did Sam think there was to discuss? There was no way he could misconstrue what had been going on.

"Look, I know what you… it's not what you think. If you give me a chance to explain, it's not all that bad. Really. We were going to… we needed time to… you were so… this can be worked out. Don't walk away right now. Come back and let's talk." Sam shoved his sandy-colored hair out of his face in frustration. Worry was stamped on his features as his lips trembled and his eyes turned liquid with unshed tears.

A bitter laugh escaped Ben and his vision clouded for a second with a watery haze. Sam stared at Ben with regret and hurt. It was an expression that always called to the protectiveness in Ben. Sam was like a brother to him, and in the past, he would've come to Sam's defense. Now it was the countenance of a man who'd taken something precious from him. He stepped forward and pushed Sam out of the elevator car, calmly stepped back and flipped off his stunned best—former best friend.

"I believe," the biker said, "that was a big fuck you." He leaned forward and pressed the 'close door' button before Sam responded.

"The name's Dawson Green." The biker took back his helmet, giving the attached glitter a raised eyebrow.

"Ben Hamilton." He crossed his arms over his chest, feeling completely naked again.

"Nice to meet you, Ben. Where you off to?" Dawson's voice was deep and calm.

What a good question because he didn't have a clue. He couldn't go to the house or his parents'. His sister's place was out of the question because he didn't have the energy to keep her from killing someone. Annie would have questions he didn't have answers to. Up until ten minutes ago, he thought he knew the course of his life, and that delusion had been shattered.

"I'm not sure," he replied.

"Well, I know you don't know me from Adam, but if you wanted to get away for a couple of days, I could drop you off at my cabin. It's about forty miles outside the city limits. Your call."

Ben knew he should decline. Dawson could be an axe murderer for all he knew.
With how he currently felt, he wouldn't fight back if someone tried to kill him. Ben regarded the man next to him. Dawson had chin-length, slightly wavy, dark brown hair and stunning blue eyes, a bold, straight nose, and full, plump lips. He'd noticed the biker had a couple of tattoos before they were covered up with the jacket. But Dawson's eyes—they were nice. He kept returning to and gazing into them. Dawson's stare didn't make him feel uncomfortable or awkward. There wasn't any judgment or pity, but warmth and the hint of possibly a new friendship. He had a feeling he'd need some new friends in the very near future.

Socially, Dawson was the exact opposite of Ben. Someone he wouldn't normally spend time with, and Ben wondered if that had been the problem. He came from money, went to expensive and prestigious schools. His friends were from families who associated with his parents. He had a preset social circle from birth and he'd never thought to venture outside of it. He had no reason to, until now. Maybe it was time to make a few changes, redefine a couple of things about himself and reset the course of his life. He'd do something unexpected and break out of the mold that up until now had defined him.

Contemplating on accepting help from a complete stranger was not a sane action. But the numbing ache in his chest and the burn in the back of his eyes reminded him that, at that moment, strangers were safer than the people he knew.

"I'd like to take you up on that offer, Dawson. I can pay for the…"

"No man, not necessary." Dawson waved off the offer.

"You can't mean to let me stay for free." Ben eyed Dawson with a little bit of suspicion.

"No, I had hoped you'd be willing to help me clear some of the property. It's a heavy duty job and I need an extra hand. I'd thought to handle the work myself, even though it would take longer, but you seem like you'd enjoy the distraction."

Ben agreed he needed a diversion. He wasn't out of shape and occasionally did some of his own landscaping. He didn't believe Dawson meant him harm, but then again he hadn't thought Javier was a lying-cheating-rat-bastard either. New pain bloomed in his chest as he remembered the fuck-fest. He needed to get away and he didn't care where. He'd call Annie and let her know where he would be and leave it at that. He'd trade a bed for manual labor for a couple of days and decide what he wanted to do next.

Ben pulled in a couple of calming breaths and glanced at Dawson. "I appreciate your offer and I'd love to help you out."

Ben watched Dawson hesitantly reach up and gently brush at an escaped tear on Ben's cheek. The elevator dinged, announcing their arrival on the ground floor and the biker withdrew his hand.

Clearing his throat, Ben asked, "Can you wait a second? I need to get my bag from the concierge's desk."

Ben ignored the stares and derisive sniggers as he approached the front desk. He pulled his ID out of this boy shorts and waited for his small duffle. Inside were his wallet, phone, and a change of clothes. As soon as he could get out of the silver-sequined outfit, he would burn it.

He followed Dawson out to the parking garage, and they walked to the far corner, to the largest motorcycle Ben had ever seen. The bike was massive with a red, fire-breathing dragon painted on the gas tank. Ben pulled his clothing out of the bag then quickly drew on his blue jeans over the ridiculous boy shorts, and added a long sleeved T-shirt. He barely kept from chucking the go-go boots across the garage, opting instead to shove them rather forcefully into the public trash can.

Dawson pulled a bundle out of his side bag and tossed it to Ben. "See if that fits. The wind is cold when you ride at night."

Ben eyed the beat-up leather jacket but it fit with room to spare. He pocketed his wallet and cell from the duffle before Dawson stowed it in the saddle bag. Ben stared at the screen of the phone. If he told his family what happened, that he and Javier were done, then there wouldn't be a way to take the news back. If he said nothing and kept tonight to himself, then what? Would he and Javier be able to work their relationship out privately, away from the prying eyes of public scrutiny? What would happen to his company? There were people who worked hard to make it successful. What would happen to them? He was supposed to get married in two days. The guest list was close to a thousand for the event. What would he tell them? What would they think?

Did he care?

With shaky hands he dialed Annie.

"Did it work?" she asked excitedly.

Ben froze. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure how long he'd stood there mute when someone took the phone from his hand.

"I'm sorry. Ben's a bit upset." Dawson watched him intently. "No. My name is Dawson Green. I'm an acquaintance of Ben's. It appears Javier has seriously fucked up and Ben needs some time away. I'm going to give you the address but I'd appreciate it if you didn't give it out." Ben felt like an idiot. A stranger was handling his affairs. "No, Annie, he's not okay," Dawson said.

Ben held out a hand, silently asking for the phone back. Dawson smiled. "Yes, Annie. You'll hunt me down and rip off my balls if Ben isn't safe. Got it. Here, Ben's ready to talk."

Ben took a breath and put the phone to his ear. "Hey, Annie."

"What did he do, Ben? Never mind, my imagination is supplying enough scenarios. Does Sam know?"

Ben swallowed and blinked back the tears. His silence was obviously enough of an explanation because Annie swore fluently on the other end of the line.

"What do you want me to do?"

Ben wiped at his eyes and sighed. "Nothing. I'm going to help Dawson for a couple of days. I'll call you back and let you know. Annie—I love you."

Dawson held out a half shell helmet to Ben as he sat straddling the fat boy. Ben climbed on behind the biker. He had never been on a motorcycle before. What was the appropriate protocol? Where did he put his hands? He didn't see any handle bars for him.

Dawson seemed to sense his dilemma and reached back for Ben's hands and placed them on his hips. "I don't bite, Ben. Riding a motorcycle is both freeing and intimate."

Ben nodded and jumped when Dawson started up the beast. He grasped Dawson's waistband tightly when they gradually accelerated. Once outside the garage and on the street, Dawson kicked up the speed, causing Ben to plaster himself onto Dawson's back, arms wrapped fully around the biker's waist.

The rumbling vibration, the wind, and the speed weren't like anything he'd experienced before. It pushed back his sorrow somewhat and he decided he'd never drive a car again. Rain or shine, this was how he'd go.