Mr. Gordon leered at Luis’s almost naked body and pursed his lips. His eyes widened and he had to adjust his eyeglasses to focus. “It’s just that you should be more careful with your keys,” he said. “Nice young men like you have to be more aware these days. Why, anything could happen and you wouldn’t be prepared to get into your own building without a key. I worry about you sometimes.”
“Are you going to throw me out of the building now?” Luis asked, turning to the side and lowering the back of his briefs all the way so Mr. Gordon could see his entire ass.
Mr. Gordon pressed his palm to his throat and ran his tongue across his bottom lip. “It’s okay,” he said, waving his hand. “I was just in a bad mood this morning. You’re a good boy.”
Luis pulled up his briefs and spread his legs. He leaned back and grabbed his dick in a casual, unconscious way. While Mr. Gordon watched him, he moved his dick to the left, then to the right. “Thank you, Mr. Gordon,” he said, pouting. Then he blew Mr. Gordon a kiss and walked back into his apartment so he could get some sleep.
Chapter Two
When Jase Nicholas pulled off the Henry Hudson Parkway, the rear wheels of his extended cab pickup truck went up the curb and nearly clipped an older man walking a small dog.
The man jumped back just in time. He lifted his fist, waved it in the air, and shouted words Jase wouldn’t have used in private, let alone on a public street.
Jase slowed down and lowered his window to apologize. He wasn’t used to driving such a large truck, especially in the city. But when he looked back and smiled at the guy, the guy was still cursing at him. So he nodded and waved, then shrugged his shoulders and continued driving.
A few blocks away, not far from Riverside Park, he pulled into a garage and put the car in park. When he switched off the engine, he took a deep breath and rolled his eyes. At least he’d arrived there safely, without demolishing anyone or anything. He’d never been the most secure driver, and driving in Manhattan took more skill than he had.
Before he got out of the truck, he lowered the visor and looked into the vanity mirror. His eyebrows rose and he ran his palm down the back of his head. His sandy hair had been lightened with streaks of blond. His hair hadn’t been this short since high school. He’d always kept it long and parted in the middle without taking too much time to care what it looked like. And he’d always worn a full, heavy beard. For a second, Jase wondered who the clean-shaven, bleached-blond stranger in the vanity mirror was. The image staring back at him looked more like thirty than forty, and Jase wasn’t sure how he felt about this. In any event, the flamboyant hairstylist had been right. This new short haircut with a neat little turned up wave at the top of his head had taken years off him. And the blond streaks made him feel like a different person.
When he got out of the truck, he adjusted his black leather jacket and smoothed out his new jeans. The jeans were tight, with a low-rise waist that hugged his slender hips, only they kept riding up his legs and squeezing his balls. The black thong he was wearing beneath the jeans kept riding up the crack of his ass. The thong had to go. He could get used to wearing low-rise jeans. With time, he could learn to like the new short trendy haircut all the gay guys were wearing. He could even learn to tolerate driving his pickup in Manhattan. But he’d never get used to wearing the thong. If it came down to a choice, he’d rather not wear any underwear at all.
While he was leaning over and removing his suitcases from the back seat, the parking garage attendant walked up to him and said, “You need any help, dude?”
Jase pulled two suitcases and a shoulder bag out of the back seat and turned. The parking garage attendant was a lanky guy in his mid-twenties, with a shaved head and a patch of dark fuzz on the bottom of his chin. There were diamond studs in both his ears and his jeans were so baggy they fell below his waist and exposed the waistband of his printed boxer shorts.
Jase smiled. “I’m fine, thank you.”
The parking attendant looked him up and down. “Yes, you are,” he said, with one eyebrow raised and a half smile. When he moved his right arm, a tattoo of a cross on his large bicep jiggled up and down.
Jase blinked and leaned forward. “Pardon me,” he said.
“I like your jeans,” the attendant said. “They’re hot.” His voice was deep and soft. He had a slight accent, not too obvious.
“Ah well,” Jase said, adjusting his shoulder bag, “the keys are in the truck. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.” He knew the guy was coming on to him, but he wasn’t sure how to react. For a moment, he missed his long shaggy hair, his untrimmed overgrown beard, and his loose, rumpled chinos.
The parking attendant pursed his lips and stared between Jase’s legs. “Don’t worry about anything,” he said. “I’ll take good care of you.”
“Ah well, thanks,” Jase said, turning to leave. He wanted to get out of there and away from this guy as fast as he could.
“If you ever need anything,” the guy said, “just let me know.”
Jase lifted his arm without turning around, and waved. “I’ll do that,” he said.
When he was on the street and away from the garage entrance, he closed his eyes and exhaled. He had a feeling the parking attendant had been staring at his back the entire time.
Though he was flattered that such a young man would be interested in him, he was slightly annoyed at the way the guy had leered at him. If this was any indication of what his life was going to be like now that he was living in Manhattan, he wasn’t sure how long he’d last there.
* * * *
By the time he reached the font steps of his new apartment building, it was nearly noon.
The sun was shining on his shoulders and the black leather jacket he was wearing felt heavy and confining. He looked up at the building and stared at the tall front door, then forced his hand into his front pocket and pulled out a key.
But when he inserted the key into the lock, it wouldn’t turn. He jiggled it up and down and back and forth and nothing happened. It had been years since he’d been to one of these small apartment buildings that didn’t have doormen. He hesitated for a moment, then pushed a white button below the center mailbox a few times and waited. A moment later, the front door unlocked and he crossed into the vestibule and stared at the steps with his tongue pressed to his cheek. His apartment was on the fifth floor. He hadn’t actually thought about walking up and down five flights when he’d rented the place.