Exclusive

When he finally stepped off the small boat that ran from the ship to shore, he immediately began searching for the familiar face. The sun was already setting and he cursed the bastard who had decided that he wanted a separate picture of each member of his party in front of the bow of the ship. Now Paul was later than usual getting off ship and it looked like Kitt had wandered off.

Hoisting his bag up onto his shoulder, Paul made his way to the closest Tropical Trams stop. He was in luck and one was just pulling up as he reached the covered bench. Hopping on the tram, he paid his fair and, too keyed up to sit, held the rail, tapping his foot as he watched the scenery pass by.

Joyboy was his favorite port of call. The island was beautiful, yes. But so were almost all the Caribbean islands. And yes, it was also an extended stop-over for his ship, allowing him more free time than any of the other ports did. But the real reason he was anxious to get to Joyboy was Kitt.

Gorgeous, sexy Kitt.

Kitt of the dark brown eyes and café au lait skin.

Paul grinned as he thought of his hot little number in this port. He remembered the first time he saw Kitt. He had been having a drink with a couple of other guys from his ship at the Plutonian Shores. It was a dark pub but was one of the few places he could get away from all the sun and sand. Living on a cruise ship could get quite tedious and he just wanted someplace quiet and un-beachy. Plutonian Shores always did the trick. And, usually, the oppressive darkness would make him start craving the light again, ready to go and take sun-filled photos of merry-makers, newly-weds, and families.

But that day, as he had sat with his friends, he’d dropped his cocktail napkin. When he had gone to pick it up, he’d bumped heads with someone else who had stooped to pick it up as well.

“Oh, hey, sorry,” Paul had said with a laugh, dramatically rubbing his head. He had looked up at the other man and actually stopped in his tracks.

“It’s all right. I saw it fall and I’m so used to picking things up, I didn’t even think about it.” The voice had had the lovely lilt of the island accent to it. But it was the dark eyes that had drawn Paul in. And then the man had smiled and Paul had known what he wanted.

“I’m Paul. I work on one of the cruise ships.” Paul had said, sticking out his hand.

“I’m Kitt.”

Kitt was a native islander, recently transplanted from one of the bigger ports of call. He had just turned twenty-two and was living on his own for the first time. He worked at the casino in the housekeeping department.

“But I really want to be a bartender. One of the bartenders is teaching me drinks on my break. He says I can make it big in tips,” Kitt had said with honest enthusiasm.

Paul had smiled as he sipped his drink. “I bet.” They had found their own table under a few lines from “The Fall of the House of Usher,” which were painted on the wall. “You’re really cute. The guys will be begging to give you a couple extra dollars.”

Kitt had grinned and raised his glass to Paul. “That’s why my friends all told me to come to Joyboy.”

“Joyboy?”

“It’s what the locals call this island. I had heard it before, but I didn’t understand why until I came here. They say that this is the place where Joyboy, god of rhythm, made all the immortals. They say that all the power and passion of them rolling around and making love created this island.”

“So Anteros is actually an island made of sex?” Paul had asked with a laugh.

“Well, there do seem to be a lot of seamen.” Kitt had replied playfully.

They had finished off their drinks not long after and Kitt had invited Paul back to his rented room. It had been a spectacular night.

The tram’s bell dinged, pulling Paul from his reverie and alerting him that he was only a five-minute walk from another night of fun.

Kitt lived in one of the few places on the small island that the tourists hadn’t found. The downtown area was made up of apartment buildings and houses with rooms for rent that held most of the local workers. The rich usually lived up in north Bayside, but the regular folk lived in Downtown, happy with their smaller neighborhood. In the off-season, it was filled with people laughing and throwing street parties. Kitt lived in his own apartment now, having gotten a job as a bartender in one of the smaller bars at the Three Aces. And just like everyone had predicted, he made amazing tips. Kitt knew how to flirt the money right out of the tourists’ pockets.

Paul took the pebbled cement steps up to a balcony walkway that led to Kitt’s apartment. He knocked on Kitt’s yellow-painted door, which complimented the bright green trim of the Kingston Apartments building. He waited a few moments and then knocked again a little louder. He briefly wondered if Kitt’s schedule had changed, but figured he would have heard something by email if it had.

Just as he was about to knock for the third time, he heard a sound from inside and then the door opened. Kitt stood in the narrow opening wearing an unbuttoned, green, short-sleeve shirt and cotton pants, which floated down around his hips. The hollow areas beneath his hipbones were displayed and Paul couldn’t wait to get his tongue in those grooves. Kitt’s shoulder-length, dreadlocked hair was pulled back from his face by a brown bandana, which matched the color of his pants. In other words, he was devastatingly sexy.

“Hey, baby! Sorry about being late!” Paul took a step closer and then realized that Kitt wasn’t smiling or stepping back to let him in. “Are you mad?”

Kitt looked at him with an eyebrow raised and his lips pursed. “No, I’m not mad. Why would I be mad?” he asked. “It’s not like we have an exclusive relationship or anything. It’s not like you need to call me when you’re late, right?”

Paul knew when he was on shaky ground, but this was so unexpected that he answered slowly. “Well, yeah. So… you letting me in or what?”

“No, I’m not. I’m busy right now.”

“Busy.” Paul wasn’t sure what to do with that. “You’re busy? Doing what? I haven’t been in town in three weeks. Whatever it is, it can wait, can’t it?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?” Kitt stepped back and opened the door wide.

Paul stepped forward with a frown on his face. There was another guy in there! Another guy who was obviously zipping himself back into his jeans.

“Jeremy, can you wait?” Kitt asked.

“Damn it! You didn’t tell me about him! I hate this drama.” Jeremy grabbed his shirt from the floor and angrily pulled it on.

“There ain’t no drama,” Kitt said lightly, leaning on the open door. “Paul only comes in every three weeks or so. I must have forgotten the day.” He shrugged.

“Bull! I just emailed you last night telling you I was coming in!” Paul hissed angrily as he stepped across the threshold.

Kitt shrugged. “I didn’t think I’d have to mark it on my calendar.”

“Look, man, he didn’t tell me anything about any regular deal you two had, all right?” Jeremy said angrily. He picked up his bag from the back of Kitt’s couch and walked toward the door where the other two stood.

“We don’t have any deal,” Kitt said, not bothering to move out of the way, forcing the other guy to squeeze past him.

Paul stood back and let him out.

“And he’s about as regular as a period. Aren’t you, Paul?” Kitt laughed.

“What the hell? If you didn’t want me coming over you could have told me!” Now Paul was angry. Not only was he losing a night of fun, but was being insulted!

“See? Drama. I don’t do drama.” Jeremy plodded down the stairway, his heavy steps reverberating across the landing.

Paul didn’t watch him go and instead focused on Kitt who was definitely blocking entrance into his apartment. The night was falling fast turning Kitt into a faceless silhouette against the light coming from inside his apartment.

“Welcome back to Anteros. Have a pleasant stay.” Kitt shut the door and Paul was left to stare at the yellow paint.

When the staircase lights buzzed to life a few seconds later, Paul shook his head and headed toward them, taking each step down with a thud.

He stood in the parking lot for a moment and then headed toward the wharf. He wasn’t really sure how he was feeling. He knew he wanted to kick someone’s ass, that’s for sure. What the hell was that?! He’d been gone for weeks. What the hell could he have done to deserve that kind of treatment? He had even emailed Kitt regularly! Sure, they weren’t exclusive; with his job that would just be trouble waiting to happen. But damn it, where the hell had this come from?

Paul was passing in front of the Paradise Cove Motel when he caught a familiar face in the glow of the giant margarita. He decided he wanted answers and crossed the street. The guy saw him coming and quickly took the cigarette from his mouth and held up both hands.

“Look, man, I said I didn’t know anything about you. I don’t want or need any of this, all right?”

Paul stopped a few feet away. The guy looked to be in his early thirties, around Paul’s own age. He wore a regular t-shirt and jeans and carried a backpack. He had blond hair that was cut close and gelled into a stylish mess. He was tall too, right about Paul’s own height of 5’11”. But whereas the guy was blond, Paul had longish brown hair. He thought it gave him a more artsy look and it seemed to go over well with the passengers.

“My name’s Paul. He never said anything at all about me?”

The guy shook his head. “No. Like I told you.”

“What’s your name again?” The guy shook his head again, so Paul added, “I’m not pissed at you. I’m just trying to figure out what the hell that was all about.”

The guy sighed and took a drag off his cigarette. He exhaled and said, “Jeremy.”

Paul remembered that Kitt had already called the guy by name. He nodded, as if thinking it over. “You know Kitt from work or something?” Paul asked.

“Yeah. I’m here doing some work. I’m an electrician. I’m hooking up new pool lights for the Aces. I kept seeing him at the bar. So I asked him out. He never said anything about you or anyone else.” He took another drag off his cigarette. “If you want to know what I think, I think he staged that whole thing. He kept saying no to me when I’d ask him out. Then all of a sudden he started flirting back yesterday. Then he said he’d go out with me today. I figured I’d just worn him down or something. But when you knocked on the door, he didn’t seem at all surprised, if you know what I mean.”

Paul leaned against the fence. “So he used me to get to you and you to get to me, huh?”

“I’d say so. Messed up.”

Paul nodded and they stood for a few minutes in companionable silence.

“Is he good?” Jeremy suddenly asked.

“Yeah.”

“Damn. I figured he was.”

Another moment passed.

“Well, I can tell you this. He plays the tourists and the barflies like a pro. He’s good at manipulating them.” Jeremy laughed. “Us, too, huh? I’d say you might be lucky in getting out of that mess. I hate drama.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that.” Paul looked up at the night sky.

“Well, early day tomorrow. And this night’s a bust. ’Night.” Jeremy stomped out his cigarette and headed into the motel parking lot toward one of the rooms.

The night was pretty quiet. Other than the sounds of the island fauna settling, Paul was left alone with the sand flies trying to bite him to death. He swatted at them for a bit until the sunset swarm had died down.

And then he stood up from the fence and headed back the way he had come.

He didn’t knock this time and instead opened the yellow door and walked in. Kitt stood up from a small table situated on a bare bit of linoleum euphemistically called the dining room floor and slammed down the phone he had obviously been talking on.

“How dare you—”

“You owe me an explanation!” Paul cut in. “What the hell was that, huh, Kitt? We just talked last night. Unless I made plans with someone else who was using your IM name, you can start by telling me what the hell all this was about!”

Kitt glared and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t have to tell you a thing. I decided to do something, someone, else and that’s all. And then you ran him out of here!”

“I did? But you didn’t seem all that sad to see him go, did you?”

“Get out! We’re not exclusive or anything.” Kitt’s accent had thickened slightly in his anger and ‘anything’ had come out ‘anyting’. He seemed to catch the slip and frowned harder. Kitt deliberately thickened his accent for the tourists, which earned him more tips and drink orders. But when he was off work, he liked to keep it out as much as possible. He had said something about wanting to be taken seriously and not as some naïve native. “Get out.”

“You know, you keep throwing that ‘non-exclusive thing’ in my face.” Paul turned and slammed the door closed. Hard. “You never had a problem with it before now.”

“I don’t have a problem with anything other than you in my house!”

“Well, if Jeremy is gone, then how about me? If you don’t have a problem with anything, what’s wrong with letting me fill in, huh?”

“Because I already had plenty tonight. Jeremy is nearly more than I could handle. So get out!”

Paul stopped and mimicked Kitt by crossing his own arms. “Really? Jeremy that good, huh? Funny, he seemed to not know if you were, though. He asked me just now while we were standing around talking. Now, either you are completely forgettable or you’re lying. Which is it, baby?”

Kitt was breathing hard as he continued to glare. “Get out!”

“Oh no. You started this. Now you are going to finish it.” Paul’s hands dropped down to his sides. “You never struck me as a coward. You don’t want me around anymore. Fine. But at least have the balls to say it.”

“Fine. You make me sick. You tink I am going to just wait around for you? I have men crawlin’ afta me! They dying to get wit me! Why should I bother wit some photomat flunky?!”

“Oh really?” Paul asked in a low tone.

“Yes! Fine! I didn’t have Jeremy! He just a flunky like you! I can do betta!”

“Decided to be a whore now? Selling your ass to the highest-paying john off the boat?”

“Get out!” Kitt grabbed the glass of water on the table beside him and threw it at Paul. It went a bit wide, but still succeeded in dousing Paul with enough water to piss him off.

“Son of a bitch! When did you get to be such a diva?!” Paul shouted and moved toward Kitt. He dodged to the side when a book came sailing at him. A damn book on drinks! “Knock it off—oomph!” The second book caught him in the gut.

Kitt had gone for another glass when Paul reached him and grabbed his arms. Kitt retaliated with a knee to the thigh and a stomp on Paul’s foot.

“God damn it!” Paul growled. He jerked Kitt hard, making the other man’s head snap back as he wrestled him to a stop.

But Kitt kept fighting. He got one arm loose and took a swing at Paul who was thankful Kitt had never learned how to fight. The punch glanced off his shoulder, but gave him the leverage to twist Kitt around and push him against the table. Kitt kicked back and connected with a shin.

“Damn it!” Paul angrily shoved Kitt’s face down onto the paper-cluttered surface. Paul was so angry, and so hurt both physically and emotionally, that he acted without a thought and brought his hand down hard on Kitt’s ass.

The sound of his hand slapping down and the two of them panting was all that could be heard after that. Kitt went completely still and Paul wasn’t sure what to do. He’d never hit another guy before. At least, not one that he was having intimate relations with. His parents had always taught him to respect his partners. True, they had been training him for a het relationship, but Paul still took it to heart. You don’t beat up on your lovers.

“Let me up,” Kitt said in an unsteady voice.

Taking a couple of breathes before responding, Paul said, “Are you done throwing a tantrum?”

“I wasn’t throwing a tantrum!” Kitt seethed, grabbing a pen and throwing it behind him.

It struck Paul dangerously close to his right eye.

“Ow, damn it!” And Paul again slapped Kitt’s ass. Harder that time.

In response, Kitt made an angry and frustrated growl of a shout and grabbed a handful of papers and threw them behind him as well. And again Paul smacked him. And again Kitt threw something.

“Fine! You want this?” Paul shouted and began walloping down on Kitt, smacking his ass hard. His anger and fervor increased and he yanked the cloth pants down to Kitt’s thighs, satisfied in a deeply primal way to be able to connect his bare hand to bare flesh.

Finally, the skin under his hand went from a warm brown to an angry red and Paul came to a stop. He panted, his hand still on Kitt’s hip, and tried to control himself.

“Paul….”

Paul looked up to the back of Kitt’s head. He’d just beaten the hell out of his lover’s ass. Now, not only had he lost Kitt, but he was probably going to end up with abuse charges and a night or more in jail.

“Paul… Please….”

“I’ll… I’ll let you up,” Paul said in a rough voice.

“No. No, just….” Kitt’s own voice wasn’t too steady. It sounded thick with tears, almost, and it made Paul feel like an even bigger jerk.

“Kitt, I’m sorry. I… I don’t know what came over me.” Paul slowly released his hold on the other man. “I… I guess I got jealous and then pissed-off angry.” He carefully put a soothing hand on the back of Kitt’s head. “I’m really sorry.” He leaned down a bit and was fully prepared to get punched in the face. But instead he saw Kitt’s brown eyes staring at him. There were indeed tears in them, but Kitt wasn’t making any attempt to stand up.

“Kitt?”

“Please….”

“What?”

Kitt suddenly grabbed Paul’s nearest hand and dragged it under his hips. And to his erection. Paul’s eyes went wide as his fingers wrapped around the hot length. Kitt kept staring at him.

“I need you,” he whispered.

“My god.” Paul hadn’t had his own flesh harden that fast in ten years.

“Please, Paul.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m… crap.” Paul swallowed hard, then leaned down and kissed Kitt. He pulled back and gave the flesh in his hand a couple of strokes that had Kitt lifting up off his heels like a cat in heat. “Crap,” Paul repeated in a whisper and searched the kitchen with his eyes. Ah ha! With another quick kiss, Paul took a few short steps to the small horseshoe-shaped counter and grabbed a bottle of vegetable oil. He already had it open and was working on his jeans by the time he had made the speedy trip back to Kitt.

“Hurry,” Kitt whimpered and again rose up, displaying himself.

The jeans hit his ankles and Paul didn’t worry about anything else after he had grabbed the foil packet out of his back pocket and nearly dumped half the bottle of oil on Kitt’s lower back. Paul set the bottle and condom down on the edge of the table and both of his hands went to work, spreading the oil between Kitt’s still-red cheeks.

“Damn, should have kissed and licked you,” Paul muttered as his first two fingers worked their way inside.

Kitt made a sound between a grunt and a moan and pushed back onto Paul’s fingers.

“Later… later,” he answered into his elbow. “Mmm… I’m ready. Come on….”

“Okay, okay.” Paul gave one more twist of his fingers and one more pull on his own shaft before ripping open the foil packet, rolling the latex on, and lining himself up with Kitt’s opening. He pushed in, watching himself spread Kitt’s muscles wide before disappearing with a panting moan from Kitt. Paul groaned and moved the rest of the way in. He pulled back halfway and then plunged in until his lower stomach was against Kitt’s buttocks. “Oh, god. You’re so hot, baby,” he breathed.

“More… Paul, more. Hard. Give it to me hard!”

“Are you sure—”

“Now!”

A flurry of papers flew at him and Paul did as commanded. He came nearly all the way out before ramming back in. He got a panting “yeah, like that!” and decided he had the green light.

The table inched closer and closer to the opposite wall with each hard thrust until it butted up against it. The sound of it hitting the wall accompanied Kitt’s increasingly loud encouragement. Kitt moaned and whimpered and cried and writhed on the table. It made Paul nearly go blind with excitement. He had no idea how he didn’t climax in seconds, but the need to push Kitt harder and harder had him grounded and focused on a goal.

“Paul! Oh god! Please!”

“Please what, baby? Ask nicely.”

Kitt’s fists slammed the table and then he seemed to struggle to find some sort of handhold, as if he were afraid of falling off. Which, of course, was impossible with the way Paul had him pinned. Paul wouldn’t be surprised if there would be lines of bruises across Kitt’s thighs in the morning.

“I need to come!” Kitt shouted.

“Do you? Do you need to?” Paul huffed. He was surprised with himself. He was typically the more aggressive of the two in bed. But he had never been this aggressive. In fact, if there was anything more than token resistance, he’d move on to the next conquest. But with Kitt, right here and now, he wanted to own him. He wanted to make Kitt know who was in charge. In fact, he wanted more than that.

“Yes, I need to!” Kitt cried out.

“Well, baby, I need an apology.”

Kitt tossed his head back and forth. “What? Paul, please!” He tried putting his hands underneath himself to get to his own cock, but Paul grabbed both wrists and pinned them to the table.

And even though it nearly killed him, Paul stopped moving and rested against Kitt’s struggling body, listening as Kitt let out a screech of frustration.

“I need an apology. You made me jealous by bringing another guy in here. Then you made me angry. You knew I was going to be here tonight, didn’t you?” He got no response so began to slowly pull out. “Answer me or I walk away right now and you finish yourself off.”

“Argh! Yeah, yeah, I knew!”

“Knew what?”

“That you’d be here!”

“And are you sorry?”

“Paul!”

“Are you sorry?” Paul demanded.

Kitt slammed his forehead down onto the table. “Yes! Yes, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“You’re killing me!” Kitt hissed. “I’m sorry for bringing another man here!”

“And what else are you sorry for?”

“I… I’m sorry for throwing things at you!”

“What else?”

Kitt slammed his head down again. “I don’t know! Paul, move! Let me touch myself!” His arms struggled to break the hold, but Paul wasn’t budging.

Paul waited until Kitt stopped moving and then quickly pulled a hand away and laid two stinging slaps on the raised backside.

“You lied to me,” Paul answered. “You lied to me and set me up for that little show you put on.”

“Yes,” Kitt moaned. He lifted up and back against Paul. “Yes, I did.”

Two more smacks were administered. “Are you sorry?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m sorry! Please, please, please, Paul!”

Paul grabbed hold of Kitt’s hip with his left hand and with his right found the leaking shaft underneath. Kitt cried out in relief when Paul started to stroke him. At the same time, Paul picked up speed and started ramming into him. “Oh, God! Paul, Paul! Now! I’m coming now!”

Paul tightened his hand down on Kitt’s flesh just enough to make Kitt nearly scream as he climaxed under the table and onto the floor. His entire body shook and shivered and Paul rode it out, never letting up on his pounding.

Kitt was panting as he rose up on his elbows and then stood, pressing his back against Paul’s chest. Reaching behind him, he squeezed Paul’s clenching butt cheeks.

“I’ve never been more turned on then when you bent me over this table and spanked me,” Kitt whispered. “It hurt so bad but felt so good. I deserved it and you gave it to me.”

And that was all it took to finish Paul off. He roughly shoved Kitt back down onto his elbows and rammed him two more times before pushing all the way in. He shuddered against Kitt, his whole body jerking spasmodically until he went completely boneless and fell on top of him. Paul was surprised he hadn’t ended up on the floor.

They both were breathing heavily and Paul thought about moving, but then decided his legs hadn’t solidified enough to use yet. After a few minutes, Kitt turned his head slowly and looked at Paul through a couple of his dreads.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I just wanted to know you cared.”

Paul smiled and kissed Kitt’s shoulder, which was still covered by a shirt. Looked like they were now exclusive.