plik

Published by Accent Press Ltd – 2011

ISBN 9781908192516

The right of Elizabeth Coldwell to be identified as the

author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with

the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

The story contained within this book is a work of fiction.

Names and characters are the product of the author‟s

imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or

dead, is entirely coincidental.

transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,

electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying,

recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the

publishers: Xcite Books, Suite 11769, 2nd Floor, 145-157 St

John Street, London EC1V 4PY

Also by Elizabeth Coldwell

Chapter One

They started fighting somewhere past  Lincoln, Nebraska.
Alfie  was  surprised  it  hadn‟t  happened  sooner.  Being
cooped  up  in  a  car  with  Brad  Taylor  for  the  best  part  of
two  days  would  try  the  patience  of  a  saint,  and  if  there
was one thing Alfie lacked, it was patience.

But he‟d known that when he‟d accepted Brad‟s offer

of a ride. He‟d been watching the campus notice board as
the  end  of  term  approached,  hoping  someone  would  be
offering  a  lift  all  the  way  to  California,  in  return  for
company  and  a  contribution  towards  the  gas  money.  It
was  the  only  way  he  was  going  to  get  there,  after  he‟d
checked how much it would cost to travel by Greyhound
bus  and  realised  his  overstretched  credit  card  wasn‟t
going to go even halfway towards meeting the cost. He‟d
thought  about  asking  his  parents  if  they  could  lend  him
the  money,  but  they  hadn‟t  wanted  him  to  study  in  the
States  in  the  first  place,  preferring  to  keep  him  closer  to
home. They‟d relented only because Alfie had convinced
them he‟d be able to support himself; if he e-mailed them
now  to  tell  them  he  was  broke  they‟d  be  less  than
sympathetic, he was sure.

Staying in Boston over the summer vacation would

have been the simplest – and cheapest – option, but part
of his reason for choosing an American university was to
travel and see the rest of the country outside term time.

His  plan  was  to  make  his  way  to  San  Francisco,  a  city
he‟d  always  wanted  to  visit.  There,  he‟d  fix  himself  up
with  a  job  tending  bar  or  waiting  tables,  something  that
would  leave  him  time  to  explore  Haight-Ashbury  and
Alcatraz, but it would all fall apart if he couldn‟t sort out
his transport.

„Why don‟t you try hitching a ride?‟ his roommate,

Lyle, had suggested. „Lots of truckers use that route.‟

Alfie considered the idea for only a few seconds before

dismissing it. He‟d seen too many films where some
hapless hitchhiker ended up being chopped into tiny bits
by a masked maniac and, fiction or not, it wasn‟t a risk he
wanted to run.

Just when he‟d resigned himself to spending his

summer  on  the  east  coast,  maybe  trying  to  find  work  in
one  of  the  tourist  spots  like  Cape  Cod  or  Martha‟s
Vineyard,  the  handwritten  note  appeared  on  the  notice
board.  Someone  was  looking  for  a  travelling  companion
to  San  Francisco.  He  tapped  the  number  into  his  mobile
phone with trembling fingers.

„Hey, you‟ve reached Brad,‟ came the voice on the

other end of the phone.

„Hi, I‟m ringing about your note. The ride to San

Francisco?‟

„Sure, man. Hey, you got in there quick. I only just put

the note up …‟

And that was how Alfie hooked up with Brad Taylor.

Two  days  later,  he  turned  up  at  Brad‟s  dorm.  His
travelling  companion  was  waiting  for  him  outside,
standing  by  a  battered  Chevy.  As  soon  as  he  saw  him,
Alfie  knew  instinctively  they  weren‟t  going  to  get  on.
After all, what would a tanned, blond jock with a gridiron
helmet  topping  the  towering  pile  of  luggage  on  his  back
seat  have  in  common  with  a  quiet,  bespectacled  English

science nerd? But Alfie stuck out his hand to receive a
bone-crushing handshake in return, vowing to make the
most of the situation.

At first, things weren‟t too bad. Brad didn‟t expect

Alfie  to  do  much  of  the  talking,  preferring  instead  to
discuss  his  buddies  on  the  football  team,  the  keg  parties
they  threw  at  weekends  and  his  cheerleader  girlfriend,
Kelly,  who  apparently  liked  nothing  better  than  to  be
down  on  her  knees,  sucking  Brad‟s  cock.  This  non-stop
barrage  of  conversation  was  accompanied  by  soft  rock
ballads  belting  out  on  the  car  stereo.  Alfie  would  have
preferred silence and the chance to get his head down and
sleep  as  the  monotonous  miles  went  by,  but  with  Brad
there was very little chance of that.

Things changed for the worse after they broke the

journey  outside  Lincoln.  Brad  needed  to  stretch  his  legs
and take a leak, so they pulled into a truck stop for a late
lunch.  Making  themselves  comfortable  in  a  booth  by  the
window, they were able to watch the comings and goings
as  they  tucked  into  the  day‟s  blue  plate  special,  chicken
Tetrazzini.

While Brad flirted with the pretty blonde waitress who

kept refilling their coffee cups, Alfie went to use the rest
room. There were two stalls in the men‟s room. The door
of the first was ajar, but when he pushed it further open he
quickly  realised  it  wasn‟t  unoccupied.  He  caught  a
glimpse  of  two  men,  the  older  dark  and  thickset,  the
younger more slightly built, with a shaven head. Both had
their  pants  round  their  ankles.  The  older  man  had  his
companion  bent  over  the  cistern  and  though  Alfie
couldn‟t  see  exactly  what  he  was  doing,  the  thrusting
movements  of  his  arse  –  and  the  little  moans  and  gasps
the  shaven-headed  guy  was  giving  in  response  –  were
unmistakable.

Torn between backing away quietly before the men

became aware of his presence and lingering to get a better
look,  Alfie  felt  his  cock  stiffening  in  his  boxers.  The
scene  was  so  reminiscent  of  all  his  filthiest  fantasies  of
public  sex  –  fantasies  he  knew  he‟d  never  dare  make
reality – and it reminded him of just how long it had been
since  he‟d  got  laid.  Being  gay  wasn‟t  the  issue;  on
campus  no  one  batted  an  eyelid,  no  matter  what  your
sexuality.  Rather,  he‟d  got  so  caught  up  in  studying  and
keeping  up  his  grades  that  he‟d  almost  forgotten  what  it
was  like  to  lie  between  crumpled  sheets  with  someone,
mouths locked together in a long, passion-filled kiss while
hands grasped cocks, stroking and teasing …

The younger man grunted, muttering something about

wanting  it  deeper.  Someone  called  out  in  the  corridor
beyond  the  rest  rooms,  bringing  Alfie  back  to  his  senses
and reminding him he ought  to be  getting  back to where
Brad was waiting for him.

He scurried back to the booth.
„You took your time,‟ Brad said, not unpleasantly,

throwing down enough bills to pay for his share of the
meal.

„Sorry about that. My stomach‟s playing up,‟ Alfie

lied. „Shall we go?‟

Out on the road again, it was somehow easier for Alfie

to  ignore  Brad‟s  constant  prattle  and  limited  taste  in
music.  He  half-dozed,  losing  himself  in  a  fantasy  where
he was back in the men‟s room, spying on the strangers as
they fucked. Only this time, the thickset man glanced over
and  saw  him  watching,  and  before  Alfie  could  retreat  to
the  safety  of  the  corridor,  the  two  men  had  grabbed  him
and  hauled  him  into  the  stall.  Telling  him  they‟d  show
him  what  happened  to  peeping  Toms,  Thickset  held  him
steady  while  his  shaven-headed  friend  undid  Alfie‟s  belt

and zip,  yanking down his jeans and underwear to reveal
his  cock,  already  surging  strongly  upwards.  The  next
thing  he  knew,  his  hands  were  fastened  behind  his  back
with  his  own  belt  and  he  was  being  urged  down  to  his
knees,  to  lick  and  suck  the  two  hard  dicks  that  were
presented  to  his  more  than  willing  lips.  And  once  those
two  fat  shafts  were  nice  and  wet,  glistening  in  the
fluorescent  light  of  the  bathroom  stall,  they‟d  bend  him
over so they could take it in turns to ream his arse ...

The sound of a horn blaring and the car veering

sharply across the highway roused Alfie from his erotic
reverie.

„What the hell‟s going on?‟ he asked, as Brad yelled

and cursed at an open-topped convertible speeding away
from them into the distance.

„Fucking driver cut me off, man,‟ Brad responded,

putting his foot down on the accelerator. „Didn‟t get his
licence plate, but when I catch up with him …‟

„Hey, don‟t be silly. We‟ll never catch him, and what‟s

going to happen if we do?‟ Alfie had visions of Brad
hauling the driver out of his car and dishing out a beating
by way of a lesson. He wasn‟t sure he wanted to be any
part of that kind of behaviour. For the first time, he
noticed Brad was clutching a beer bottle in one hand. „Are
you drinking?‟

„So what if I am? Jesus, don‟t be such a pussy, Alfie.‟
„But what if the cops stop us? You could lose your

licence.‟

Brad shot him a smug grin. „Relax. My old man‟s a

cop. He was based in Omaha for years before we moved
out to Frisco. They‟ll still remember Joe Taylor. All I
have to do is say the word, no way anyone‟s writing me a
ticket.‟

„Well, I still think you should slow down and …‟ Alfie

looked ahead to see they‟d meandered into the wrong
lane, and a huge articulated truck was bearing down on
them. „Keep your eyes on the fucking road!‟

Just in time, Brad became aware of the impending

danger, swerving out of the truck‟s path. „Now, that
wouldn‟t have happened if you hadn‟t started busting my
chops.‟

„Me!‟ Alfie was indignant. „How is any of this my

fault? I‟m not the one who‟s trying to get us taken out by
an eighteen-wheeler.‟

„Well, if you don‟t like the way I drive, maybe you

should just get out of the car.‟ Brad brought the car to an
abrupt halt at the side of the road, glaring at Alfie. „That
wasn‟t a suggestion. Get out. Find someone else to give
you a ride.‟

Before Alfie knew what was happening, Brad was out

of the driver‟s side and coming round to open the
passenger door. He reached in, popped the release on
Alfie‟s seat belt and hauled Alfie bodily out of the car.

At last, Alfie‟s patience with his boorish, self-satisfied

travelling  companion  snapped,  and  he  flung  himself  at
Brad, scuffling with him in the roadside dirt. A swinging
fist connected, and he was pleased to see it cut Brad‟s lip,
a  thin  trickle  of  blood  appearing  at  the  corner  of  his
mouth. In retaliation, Brad set about him with a series of
sharp  blows.  One  caught  his  nose,  and  now  he,  too,  was
bleeding. A vicious punch to his gut sent him sprawling to
the ground, winded and helpless.

„So long, Alfie. See you around,‟ Brad sneered, before

getting back in the car and locking the doors from the
inside.

„Hey, what about my stuff? You‟ve still got my bag!‟

Alfie called, rising gingerly to his feet, but the engine was
already revving, Brad pulling out on to the road without a

backward glance.

Alfie watched the car disappear into the distance, the

air  shimmering  around  it  as  it  faded  from  view,  almost
unable  to  believe  what  had  happened.  He‟d  been  left
stranded in  the middle of nowhere, with  only the clothes
he  stood  up  in.  There  hadn‟t  been  much  in  the  bag  he‟d
stowed in the trunk of Brad‟s Chevy, but he needed those
things.  At  least  he  had  his  phone.  Maybe  Brad  was
already regretting his hastiness and could be persuaded to
turn round. Alfie was willing to offer whatever grovelling
apology it took, if only Brad would come back to collect
him.

But when he hauled his phone out of his pocket, it was

to discover he‟d neglected to charge it up before leaving
Boston, and now the damn thing was dead. The only thing
he  could  do  was  start  walking,  and  hope  he  reached
civilisation  fairly  shortly.  According  to  his  watch,  it  was
almost  an  hour  since  they‟d  left  the  truck  stop.  Lincoln
was too far back down the road; he had to press on.

Forced to overcome his reluctance to hitch a ride, he

stuck  out  a  thumb  whenever  a  vehicle  passed,  but  no
driver  seemed  to  want  to  slow  down  for  a  dazed  and
bloodied  youth  who  stumbled  along  at  the  side  of  the
road.

No one could begin to grasp just how vast a continent

America  was  until  they  tried  to  walk  across  it  with  only
the  vaguest  idea  of  where  they  were  going.  Alfie  lost  all
track of how long he‟d been walking, or how many miles
he‟d  covered.  He  was  aware  only  of  a  raging  thirst,  and
the  need  to  stop  and  get  some  rest.  Once,  he  thought  he
caught  the  shape  of  a  police  patrol  car  coming  towards
him.  Should  he  flag  it  down,  explain  his  predicament?
What  if  the  officer  who  stopped  wasn‟t  sympathetic?
He‟d heard there were still vagrancy laws in force in some

states.  The  last  thing  he  wanted  to  do  was  get  himself
arrested.  Though  if  they  threw  him  in  jail  at  least  he‟d
have  a  roof  over  his  head  for  the  night,  he  thought
bitterly.

Night fell, and the temperature began to drop sharply.

Dressed in only a thin cotton T-shirt and jeans, his jacket
still  in  Brad‟s  car,  Alfie  could  barely  stop  himself
shivering. At last, his feet blistered and every joint aching,
he spotted buildings up ahead. Almost too weary to reach
them,  he  pressed  on  with  the  last  of  his  strength.  The
town, such as it was, consisted of a cluster of half-a-dozen
streets  dominated  by  a  small,  white-painted  wooden
church  that  stood  a  little  way  up  a  low  hillside.  A  sign
stood at its limits. “WELCOME TO PARADISE”.

„If this is Paradise, I‟d hate to think what Hell looks

like,‟ Alfie muttered to himself, and staggered into the
town in search of someone who could help him.

Chapter Two

Ray  had  already  shut  the  diner  for  the  night  when  he
heard the banging on the door. „We‟re closed!‟ he yelled,
pausing  in  the  act  of  emptying  the  cash  register.  His
opening  hours  were  clearly  stated  on  a  sign  in  the
window;  if  anyone  wanted  a  meal  outside  those  hours,
there was the all-night place over in Aurora, five minutes‟
drive down the road.

Whoever was outside was persistent, he‟d give them

that. Eventually, he went  to  see just who wasn‟t capable
of taking of a hint. Expecting some impatient stoner with
a  bad  case  of  the  munchies  and  no  idea  of  the  time,  he
was  instead  greeted  by  a  bedraggled  boy  who  couldn‟t
have been more than 20, dressed in a T-shirt that had once
been white but  was  now stained with  dirt  and sweat.  His
dark hair was tangled, and dried blood had crusted around
his nose. Desperation glittered in his brown eyes, shielded
by small, wire-framed glasses.

Had he been in a car wreck? Ray didn‟t remember

hearing sirens, but that could just mean no one had called
911 yet.

„Do you have a phone I can use?‟ The stranger spoke

with an English accent, which really threw Ray for a loop.

„Sure. Come in. Who do you need to call? Ambulance?

Fire service? Anyone else hurt?‟ Words tumbled from
Ray‟s mouth despite his attempts to remain calm. If the

boy was injured and disorientated, it was important not to
spook him further.

„No, it‟s nothing like that. My phone died and I …‟ He

swayed on his feet, as though he might faint. Ray ushered
him inside, guided him to the nearest seat and went to get
him a glass of tap water.

The boy swallowed it down in greedy gulps, looking a

little brighter by the time he‟d finished his drink. „Thanks
very much.‟

„No problem.‟ Ray said. „And now I think it‟s time for

some introductions. I‟m Ray Rendell. Why don‟t you tell
me your name and give me some idea of what this is all
about?‟

„It‟s Alfie – Alfie Crane. And it‟s a long story. I was

supposed to be driving to San Francisco with …‟ He
paused.

„A friend? A girlfriend?‟ Ray prompted.
„No, nothing like that. Just some guy I know. Well, I

don‟t really know him. I just agreed to split the gas money
with him. But we had a fight and he drove off without me.
He took my stuff. Not intentionally, I don‟t think, but he
didn‟t give me a chance to get it out of the car. I‟ve been
walking ever since.‟ He gave a sour little laugh. „It‟s all a
bit of a mess, really.‟

„And where‟s home, Alfie? Is there someone who

could come and collect you?‟

Alfie shook his head. „You probably guessed from the

accent I‟m not exactly a native. My parents are in
London. I‟m studying in Boston, but there‟s no one there
who can help. My roommate‟s in Europe and I – well, I
don‟t really have too many friends over here, to be honest.
That‟s why I was sharing a car with a complete stranger.
As far as I can see, I‟m stuck here. No offence, Ray. I‟m
sure this is a really nice town, but …‟

Ray was never sure what impulse drove him to make

the offer. He told himself afterwards it was just a friendly
gesture  –  anyone  with  a  shred  of  decency  could  see  the
boy  was  in  a  predicament  he  couldn‟t  get  out  of  without
help. But it was something stronger, something that made
him  want  to  keep  the  boy  around  for  a  while  and  get  to
know him better.

„You know, you couldn‟t have turned up at a better

time.  I‟m  looking  for  someone  to  help  me  out  in  the
diner.‟ His previous bus boy, Duane, had walked out the
week  before.  He  was  moving  to  Lincoln  with  his
girlfriend.  It  was  always  the  same.  Anyone  with  any
ambition  –  in  this  case,  Lindsay,  Duane‟s  girlfriend,
who‟d  been  an  honour  student  at  her  high  school  in
Aurora  –  quickly  realised  there  were  no  real  career
opportunities in Paradise and left the town as soon as they
could. „And I‟ve got a guest room I‟m not using, so that
solves  the  problem  of  where  to  stay.  Otherwise,  I  could
give  you  a  lift  down  to  Aurora.  You  should  be  able  to
pick up a bus from there. But don‟t make a decision just
yet. Let me get you something to eat.‟

„Oh, don‟t go to any trouble on my account,‟ Alfie

said, even though he still looked as though he might pass
out from hunger.

„Hey, it‟s no trouble to whip up an omelette.‟
Within a couple of minutes, Ray was whisking

seasoned  eggs  in  a  bowl,  and  pouring  the  mixture  into  a
hot  skillet.  He  was  glad  of  the  excuse  to  keep  busy.
Beneath  the  blood  and  grime,  Alfie  was  the  most
attractive  man  he‟d  seen  in  a  long  time,  and  he  was
uncomfortably aware of a growing hard-on in his pants. In
the  days  before  he‟d  moved  back  to  Paradise  to  run  the
diner  when  his  father  grew  too  ill  to  manage,  his  then
boyfriend,  Rick,  a  college  psychology  professor  who

prided  himself  on  being  able  to  see  through  anyone‟s
façade, had claimed Ray was attracted to  “broken birds”
who needed the love of a good man to make them whole
again.  Rick  had  turned  out  to  be  a  grade-A  jerk,  which
was  why  they  hadn‟t  been  together  too  long,  but  Ray
couldn‟t help wondering if he might have a point. Was he
responding  to  Alfie‟s  vulnerability?  After  all,  he  had  no
idea whether the boy  was gay or straight,  and he wasn‟t
about to start asking intrusive questions.
Putting the thought out of his mind, he rolled up the light,
fluffy omelette and garnished it with fresh parsley before
putting it on a plate. He set it in front of Alfie, along with
a soda from the refrigerator. ‘Bon Appétit,‟ he said with a
grin. For the first time since he‟d almost fallen into the
diner, Alfie cracked a smile in response.

He took a bite of the omelette, then another. „This is

delicious. Thanks, Ray. And yes, I‟d be happy to work
here, if you don‟t mind.‟

„Mind? I‟m delighted.‟ Ray sat back and watched Alfie

clear his plate, trying not to think of him as anything other
than his latest employee.

Once Alfie had finished his meal, Ray took him upstairs.
„This is your room,‟ he said, pushing open the door. „I‟ll
need to make up the bed. The bathroom‟s next door, so
why don‟t you take a shower?‟

„Is that a polite way of telling me I stink?‟ Alfie

sounded much more upbeat than he had at any time since
they‟d first met, but Ray knew a good meal and a show of
kindness could lift anyone‟s spirits.

„There‟s plenty of hot water. Oh, and if you want to

leave your clothes in the laundry bin, I‟ll hunt out
something that should fit you. I‟ll see you in the
morning.‟

Ray cracked the window in the spare room, letting in

the cool  night  air to  banish  any lingering stuffiness,  then
went to get sheets from the linen closet. As he passed the
bathroom,  through  the  door  he  could  hear  the  sound  of
Alfie  singing  to  himself.  He  was  off-key,  but  Ray  could
have listened to him for quite a while. He couldn‟t shake
the  image  of  what  Alfie  might  look  like  behind  the  thin,
transparent  shower  curtain,  lathering  up  his  naked  body
with  Ray‟s  favourite  Ivory  soap.  He  imagined  the  water
beating down on Alfie‟s skin, foam trailing down over his
chest  and  flat  belly.  Maybe  he‟d  spend  a  while  soaping
his  cock,  putting  more  into  the  stroking  motion  as  it
thickened  and  swelled,  until  all  thoughts  of  cleaning
himself had been forgotten in favour of jacking himself to
a swift, powerful climax.

The image stayed with Ray as he lay in bed. Unable to

sleep, he  found his  own  hand straying down to  grasp  his
shaft. Instantly, his cock stirred into life, and he knew he
wouldn‟t  be  able  to  stop  touching  himself  till  he  came.
There  was  a  tube  of  hand  cream  on  his  night  stand,  kept
there for the express purpose of greasing himself up when
he masturbated, and he squeezed a walnut-sized blob into
his palm.

He pictured Alfie, naked and dripping wet, pulling

aside the shower curtain, beckoning him into the cramped
stall.  They  would  fall  into  an  embrace,  lips  locked
together,  and  they  would  explore  each  other‟s  body,
getting  to  know  its  lines  and  angles,  the  firmness  of  butt
cheeks, the thickness of thighs. Alfie‟s hand would reach
down to grab Ray‟s cock, his eyes widening as the size of
it became apparent. With frantic strokes, each would jerk
the other, Alfie‟s free hand cupping Ray‟s hanging balls,
Ray‟s  middle  finger  worming  up  into  Alfie‟s  tight
arsehole.  All  too  soon,  their  cocks  would  erupt,  creamy

spunk shooting out to be washed away by the steadily
pounding water. At the moment they climaxed in his
fantasy, Ray shot his load in reality, biting the back of his
hand so as not to wake Alfie with his ecstatic cries.

As he drifted into a satisfied sleep, Ray told himself

firmly his attraction to Alfie had to remain the stuff of
dreams. Life would be less complicated that way.

Chapter Three

When Alfie woke late the following morning, it took him
a few moments to remember where he was. Gradually,
memories flooded back: the fight with Brad; the long,
exhausting trek till he reached Paradise; Ray‟s unexpected
hospitality.

Fresh clothes lay at the bottom of the bed, where Ray

had  left  them  while  Alfie  was  in  the  shower.  As
requested,  he‟d  thrown  the  things  he‟d  been  wearing  in
the laundry bin to be washed, though he doubted anything
could be done for his socks, tattered and blood-stained as
they  were.  His  cut  and  blistered  feet  were  still  sore,  but
otherwise  he  felt  refreshed  by  nearly  12  hours  of
unbroken, dreamless sleep.

The T-shirt he‟d been given to wear didn‟t fit too

badly, but the jeans needed belting tightly and turning up
at the bottom so he wouldn‟t trip over the hems. Looking
at  his  reflection  in  the  mirror  as  he  brushed  his  hair,  he
couldn‟t  help  noticing  the  bruises  on  his  left  cheek,
mottled  purple  and  blue.  He  only  hoped  he‟d  left  Brad
with a similar reminder of their coming to blows.

A sharp knock on the bedroom door distracted Alfie

from thoughts of what he‟d like to do to Brad if he ever
got his hands on him again.

„Hey, you decent in there?‟ Ray called.
„Sure. Come in.‟

Ray entered the room, carrying a box of Band-Aids

and a tube of antiseptic cream. „Thought you might need
these.‟

He’s seen my socks and knows my feet are ripped to

shreds,  Alfie  thought,  taking  the  medical  supplies  with
mumbled  words  of  gratitude.  Why  did  the  diner  owner‟s
repeated  shows  of  generosity  leave  him  feeling  so
flustered? He liked to think if the positions were reversed,
he‟d be doing all he could do help someone so obviously
in need, but even so …

„When you‟ve had breakfast, I‟ll take you through

what your duties in the diner will involve, then when the
place gets quiet mid-morning, we‟ll go over to the general
store and sort you out with some new clothes to replace
the stuff you lost.‟

„OK.‟ The suggestion reminded Alfie he really needed

to find some way of getting his possessions back. „Erm,
you wouldn‟t happen to have a phone charger I could
borrow, would you?‟

„There‟s a phone in the hall any time you need to use

it, Alfie.‟

„Thanks, but I only have the number of the guy who‟s

got my bag in the memory of my phone. I need to charge
it up so I can get in touch with him.‟

Ray nodded. „I‟ll ask around. One of the customers is

bound to have what you need.‟

Did that mean Ray didn‟t own a cell phone? Alfie

wondered, as the man left the room. How did he manage?
Alfie  couldn‟t  do  without  the  convenience  of  having  a
phone  with  him  wherever  he  went.  Though  it  wasn‟t
much  use  to  him  at  the  moment,  he  thought  ruefully,
glancing  over  to  where  it  lay  on  the  nightstand,  battery
dead.

Once he‟d applied cream to the cuts on his feet and

covered  them  with  strips  of  plaster,  he  shrugged  on  his
boots and made his way downstairs to the diner. Ray was
standing  at  the  grill,  frying  strips  of  bacon  and  sausage
patties.  The  smell  set  Alfie‟s  stomach  growling  with
hunger.

„Help yourself to coffee,‟ Ray said, gesturing to where

a  jug  sat  on  the  hotplate.  He  slipped  rashers  of  bacon
between  two  thick  slices  of  wholewheat  bread,  and
handed  the  sandwich  to  Alfie,  who  wolfed  it  down  in
quick, greedy bites as Ray explained what he expected of
him.

„It‟s simple, really. I need you to clear tables, wash the

dishes, refill coffee cups if the waitress is busy …‟

Alfie nodded. He knew the general duties of a bus boy.

It was the kind of work he‟d been hoping to find when he
reached San Francisco. „No problem.‟ Reaching for the
apron that hung on a hook by the sink, he asked, „Where
do you want me to start?‟

„First things first.‟ Ray led him out into the body of the

diner, towards a mumsy-looking woman in a pale blue
uniform, a little white hat perched jauntily on her washed-
out blonde hair. „I want you to meet Mae.‟

The waitress was on her way back to the counter, a

stack of dirty plates cradled in the crook of her arms. She
smiled at Ray and Alfie, crows‟ feet appearing in the
corners of her blue eyes. „So you‟re Alfie. Ray was telling
me you‟re the answer to his prayers.‟

Alfie blushed, wondering exactly what she had been

told. „Oh, I don‟t know about that …‟

„Well, he said he was praying for someone to come

along and take the bus boy job, and suddenly, there you
were.‟ Mae gave Alfie‟s shoulders an affectionate squeeze
with her free hand. „So how d‟you like our little town?‟

„To be honest, I‟ve not seen that much of it.‟

„Oh, I‟m sure you‟ll love it when you do. If there‟s one

thing you can say about Paradise, it‟s that the folks here
are real friendly. Isn‟t that right, Ray?‟

Ray said nothing, just nodded, but as the morning

progressed,  it  grew  obvious  to  Alfie  there  was  a  truth  in
Mae‟s  words.  The  diner  was  never  particularly  busy  at
any  one  time,  so  there  was  no  pressure  for  customers  to
eat  up  and  get  out,  unlike  a  couple  of  the  popular  spots
Alfie  used  in  Boston.  Mae  had  a  smile  for  everyone,  a
wisecrack  or  two  as  she  refilled  their  coffee  cups,  but  it
was noticeable how many of the people who ate there also
took  time  to  chat  with  Ray,  and  ask  after  his  health,  or
discuss  some  story  they‟d  heard  on  the  news  that
morning. In return, Ray had time for all of them, pausing
in the act of slicing pie or filling a sandwich to talk about
this and that.

A couple of times, Mae popped into the kitchen, where

Alfie was up to his elbows in soapy water, washing
dishes. She took down a small, screw-topped jar from a
high shelf and pushed crumpled dollar bills into it.

„This is the tip jar, honey. At the end of the week, we

count it out and divide it up between us,‟ she explained,
leaving him in no doubt that he was included in “us”.
„Folks here aren‟t just friendly, they‟re generous, too.‟

As Ray had predicted, trade slackened off mid-

morning. Closing the diner, telling Mae to take a cigarette
break as they‟d be back in 20 minutes, he led Alfie down
the main street to the general store.

Despite everything Mae had said, Alfie found Paradise

no  more  prepossessing  in  daylight  than  he  had  the  night
before.  The  place  had  a  run-down  air,  as  though  it  had
seen better days, with shabby, faded store fronts and deep
potholes  in  the  road.  He  couldn‟t  help  wondering  why
Ray continued to live here, when he could have taken his

culinary skills and made a decent living in a bigger town.
From  what  he  could  see,  there  were  no  ties  holding  the
man  here,  no  partner,  no  children.  However  friendly  the
people  were,  Alfie  failed  to  see  any  real  attraction  the
town might hold.

„Here we go.‟ Ray pushed open the door of the general

store.  The  place  was  gloomy  inside,  like  Alfie  imagined
Aladdin‟s  cave  might  look,  with  goods  piled  higgledy-
piggledy  and  rakes,  watering  cans  and  other  implements
hanging from the ceiling, posing a danger to anyone much
over six foot tall. Ray seemed to know where to find what
they needed in this cluttered treasure trove, pointing Alfie
to  the racks of men‟s clothing in  a corner at  the back of
the store.

Within a couple of minutes, Alfie had picked out a pair

of  jeans  in  his  size,  along  with  three  pairs  of  socks  and
three  of  underwear  from  the  store‟s  limited  selection.
Instead of the loose boxers he usually favoured, he‟d had
to  choose  tight-fitting  white  briefs.  He  caught  Ray
looking  at  him  as  he  picked  them  out.  An  image  flashed
into  his  mind.  He  saw  himself  standing  in  Ray‟s  guest
room wearing nothing but a pair of those briefs, his cock
hard  and  all  too  prominent  where  the  cotton  material
clung to it. Under Ray‟s watchful gaze, he would slowly
peel  down  his  underwear,  before  taking  himself  in  hand
and  stroking  up  and  down  the  rigid,  aching  length.  Or
maybe  those  pants  were  coming  off  because  he‟d
committed  some  misdemeanour,  like  accidentally
knocking  a  pile  of  plates  from  the  counter  and  smashing
them,  and  now  he  was  going  to  pay  for  his  clumsiness
with a bare-bottomed spanking over Ray‟s lap …

Now, where had that thought come from? Perhaps it

had something to do with Ray‟s look, his demeanour. The
thick sprinkling of grey in his dark hair, the steely centre

Alfie  was  sure  lurked  beneath  his  warm  and  welcoming
exterior, the little streak of hidden ruthlessness. How else
could he make a going concern of his diner in a town that,
as  the sign on its  outskirts  proclaimed, had just over two
hundred  residents  if  he  didn‟t  have  a  head  for  business?
Watching  Ray  as  he  turned  a  carousel  holding  slightly
dog-eared paperback books, Alfie decided the man was a
definite DILF. Standing for “dad I‟d like to fuck”, it was a
term  some  of  the  guys  on  campus  bandied  around  when
they  talked  about  older  men  they  found  hot.  One  of  the
bars  in  Boston‟s  upmarket  Back  Bay  area  was  supposed
to be a magnet for that kind of man, and the younger guys
who  were  attracted  to  them,  but  Alfie  had  never  set  foot
there. Somehow, he‟d always felt like a fish out of water
on  the  club  scene,  even  though  his  English  accent  and
studious  appearance  made  him  a  magnet  for  those  men
who didn‟t go for muscle-bound gym bunnies.

Deep down, he knew he wouldn‟t be having any of

these  fantasies  if  he  wasn‟t  convinced  that,  even  though
he hadn‟t said as much, Ray was gay. But was it any real
surprise if Ray chose to  be secretive about his sexuality?
In a one-horse town like this, where everyone was bound
to  know everyone else‟s business,  how wise would  it be
to do otherwise?

Conscious of the need to get back to the diner, Alfie

scooped up disposable razors, a toothbrush and deodorant
and took them over to the counter along with his selection
of clothing. The clerk smiled at him, ringing up the total
on his register. „That‟ll be $52 all told.‟

Alfie fished his wallet out of the back pocket of his

borrowed  jeans.  He  wasn‟t  certain  quite  how  much  cash
he  had  on  him,  but  it  wasn‟t  close  to  the  necessary
amount,  and  he  doubted  very  much  the  store  took  credit
cards.

Ray must have noticed his dilemma, as he came up to

the counter and told Alfie, „Don‟t worry, I‟ll get these.
You can pay me back out of your wages at the end of the
week.‟

„Thanks, Ray, if you‟re sure.‟
„Don‟t worry about it.‟ Ray‟s smile was broad as he

ran  a  hand  through  his  salt-and-pepper  hair,  sending  a
sharp pang of desire down to Alfie‟s loins. Undoubtedly a
DILF,  he  thought,  using  the  brown  paper  bag  his
purchases  had  been  stacked  in  to  hide  his  growing
erection. And my boss, and the man who‟s taken me into
his home. So undoubtedly off-limits, too.

As the week passed, and Alfie settled into the comfortable
routine  of  working  in  the  diner,  it  became  increasingly
difficult  to  deny the effect  being  around Ray was  having
on  him.  They  would  pass  in  the  hall  on  the  way  to  and
from  the  bathroom  in  the  morning,  Ray  usually  in  a  T-
shirt  and  shorts.  The  morning  he  emerged  from  the
bathroom  with  nothing  but  a  towel  wrapped  round  his
waist, Alfie  yearned to  push  him up against the wall and
kiss him, fumbling with the knot in the towel till it slipped
to the floor, revealing Ray‟s glorious nakedness.

This isn‟t like me at all, Alfie thought, locking himself

in  the  bathroom  and  fighting  the  urge  to  reach  for  his
stiffening cock. Sure, he‟d had his infatuations in the past,
but they‟d all been for guys his own age, like Mike in his
A-level  maths  class,  with  the  stunning  blue  eyes  and
deliciously lopsided grin, or Tim, who lived on the same
floor  in  his  dorm  and  liked  to  kick  a  football  around  on
the  grass  outside,  shirtless  in  the  summer  sunshine.
Falling  for  someone  like  Ray,  in  his  late  30s,  with
responsibilities that went way beyond making sure he got
his term papers in on time, was a strange new experience,

and one he wasn‟t entirely sure how to deal with. All he
could do, he supposed, was enjoy the feelings while they
lasted,  even  if  he  wasn‟t  going  to  act  on  them.  Soon
enough  he‟d  be  on  his  way  out  of  town,  and  the
extraordinary  tale  of  how  he  found  himself  stranded  in
Paradise would simply be something to amuse his friends
the next time he saw them.

If Brad didn‟t share the details with them first, of

course. When Alfie‟s phone had finally been charged up,
with  the  help  of  a  customer  in  the  diner  that  first
afternoon,  there‟d  been  a  voicemail  message  from  Brad
waiting for him. „Hi, Alfie. Your bag‟s in my trunk. Call
me when you get to San Francisco and I‟ll hand it over. If
not,  I‟ll  see  you  back  at  campus.‟  No  apology  for
throwing him out of the car and driving off, no attempt to
find  out  whether  he  was  all  right,  but  Alfie  supposed  it
was as much as he could expect, under the circumstances.
At  least  Brad  hadn‟t  tossed  the  bag  once  he‟d  found  it,
leaving it to rot by the side of Interstate 80.

It didn‟t help that, a couple of times during the course

of the week, Alfie looked round when Ray was busy at
the grill and made unexpected eye contact with the man.
The looks he received in return made him believe, if only
for a moment, that his feelings were reciprocated.

When Ray finally closed the diner late on the Friday

night,  Alfie was  expecting to  toss  his  dirty  clothes  in  the
washer  and  retire  to  bed,  ready  for  an  early  start  the
following  morning.  Instead,  Ray  said,  „I  have  a  Friday
tradition I‟d like you to be a part of. I crack a brew, make
some popcorn and watch a cheesy movie on TV. You up
for a spot of that?‟

„Sounds great,‟ Alfie admitted, relishing the thought of

kicking back and relaxing with a cold beer for once.

While Alfie pulled off his boots and made himself

comfortable on the couch, Ray disappeared into the small
kitchenette. The sound of cupboards opening and closing
was followed by a series of sharp popping noises, as Ray
heated up the corn kernels. A couple of minutes later, he
came into the living room carrying a tray with two bottles
of light beer and a bowl of butter-smothered popcorn.
Setting the tray down on the coffee table, he took up a
spot on the other end of the couch to Alfie.

„OK, let‟s see what we have.‟ Turning on the TV, Ray

flicked through the channels till he found the opening
credits of a Fifties monster movie. „Perfect.‟

The film featured an army of giant crabs laying waste

to  a  small  town  that  looked  pretty  much  how  Paradise
must  have  done  before  people  started  moving  away  in
search of better prospects. The acting was hammy and the
special  effects  laughable,  and  when  Ray  started  pointing
out  the  holes  in  the  plot  and  mocking  the  terrible
dialogue,  Alfie  couldn‟t  help  joining  in.  He  couldn‟t
remember when he‟d last had such a good time.

During a break for commercials, Ray got up to fetch

more beer. Alfie couldn‟t be sure, but when Ray settled
himself back on the couch, he seemed to be sitting a little
closer than he had before. As Ray moved to reach for the
remote control, seeking to turn up the volume on the TV,
their legs pressed together. Alfie seemed to feel the heat
of Ray‟s thigh burning him even through his jeans, and he
fought against the desire to prolong that brief moment of
contact.

Eyes glued to the screen, where a bikini-clad woman

was  about  to  be  devoured  by  the  cheapest  model
crustacean  in  motion  picture  history,  Alfie  reached  for
more  popcorn.  Dipping  his  fingers  into  the  bowl,  they
grazed  against  Ray‟s.  This  time,  the  contact  –  and  the
electricity that surged through Alfie in its wake – couldn‟t

be  ignored.  Ray‟s  thumb  brushed  over  Alfie‟s  palm  in  a
subtle but unmistakeable caress. Languid warmth flooded
his  body,  rushing  to  his  groin.  He  was  hard  in  moments,
his cock trapped almost  painfully in the tight confines of
his jeans.

Now the film was forgotten, the bathing beauty

abandoned  to  her  fate,  as  the  two  men  withdrew  their
hands from the popcorn bowl. Ray raised Alfie‟s fingers
to  his  lips,  licking  the  butter  off  each  one  in  turn.  Alfie
moaned,  wishing  it  was  his  dick  engulfed  in  the  wet
furnace of Ray‟s mouth.

„Should we be doing this?‟ Alfie asked, remembering

his determination not to get involved with his employer.

„Probably not,‟ Ray replied, but he didn‟t stop sucking

Alfie‟s fingers, smacking his lips with relish. He reached
for  Alfie‟s  fly,  popping  the  buttons  open  in  rapid
succession. Alfie made no attempt to stop Ray as his hand
curled  round  his  stiff,  overheated  shaft,  pulling  it  out  so
he  could  wrap  his  lips  round  it.  The  seduction  was  so
fluid,  so  assured  Ray  must  have  done  this  before,  but
Alfie wasn‟t bothered about the man‟s past, or who might
have been part of it. All that mattered was the feel of his
mouth,  slowly  inching  its  way  down  his  length,  tongue
swirling and teasing.

Alfie sprawled back against the couch cushions,

flinging out a hand and knocking the bowl from the table
as he did. Popcorn scattered across the floor, but the china
bowl didn‟t break. Both men ignored the noise and the
mess, lost in the pursuit of pleasure.

Ray let Alfie‟s cock drop from his lips. „Got to see you

naked,‟  he  murmured.  Crouching  over  Alfie‟s  supine
body,  he  yanked  down  his  jeans  and  underwear  in  the
same  movement.  His  T-shirt  was  next,  leaving  him  in
nothing  but  his  thick  white  socks.  Alfie  expected  Ray  to

undress himself in turn, but instead, Ray just began to toy
with his cock once more, leaving him feeling somehow
vulnerable but harder and more turned on than before.

„Please, suck me again. Your mouth feels so good.‟ It

wasn‟t like Alfie to be so vocal in his desires, to beg for
what he wanted, but he‟d never been with anyone who
affected him the way Ray did.

Ray grinned. „Since you ask so nicely …‟ The point of

his  tongue  circled  Alfie‟s  helmet,  lapping  at  the  juice
seeping  from  its  tip.  His  hand  tugged  Alfie‟s  foreskin
steadily back and forth. „I‟ve never been with a man who
wasn‟t  cut  before,‟  he  observed,  „but  then  I  never  had  a
cute English boy naked on my couch before.‟

With that, his mouth plunged down again, taking as

much  of  Alfie‟s  length  as  it  could.  Buried  in  the  wet
recesses  of  Ray‟s  throat,  Alfie  could  only  moan  as  a
skilful combination of hand and mouth worked on him in
tandem. Eyes closed, head thrown back against the arm of
the couch, he drifted on a sea of bliss, pulled this way and
that  by  Ray‟s  sucking  lips  and  steadily  wanking  fingers.
Every  so  often,  Ray  would  take  time  to  caress  Alfie‟s
tight  balls,  rolling  them  delicately  between  his  slender
fingers.

„God, that‟s amazing,‟ Alfie moaned, wishing this

treatment would never stop. It was so long since he‟d
been the focus of such sustained erotic attention he‟d
almost forgotten how good it felt.

Ray broke off to suck his middle finger, getting it

slippery-wet. When his mouth clamped on to Alfie‟s cock
again,  and  that  slick  finger  rubbed  at  the  entrance  of
Alfie‟s  arse,  the  combination  of  sensations  was
overwhelming.  Gasping  and  panting,  back  arching
upwards,  he  writhed  against  the  couch.  Spunk  surged
from his balls, gushing into Ray‟s mouth. The force of his

climax was explosive, fuelled by his pent-up lust and
longing, and when he opened his eyes, it was to see Ray
wiping a trickle of come from the side of his mouth.

„I‟m sorry.‟ Alfie wriggled into a sitting position. „It –

it‟s been a while.‟

„Don‟t worry about it.‟ Ray‟s tone was one of wry

amusement. „But if you want to make up for your – er –
enthusiasm, maybe you could return the favour?‟

It was a request Alfie couldn‟t wait to fulfil. But first

he had to get Ray as naked as he was. Making short work
of undoing Ray‟s belt and zip, he soon had his jeans down
to  his  ankles. Ray‟s cockhead poked rudely from  the fly
opening of his shorts, demanding to be sucked. While Ray
pulled off his T-shirt, revealing a chest sprinkled with hair
considerably  blacker  than  that  on  his  head,  Alfie  tugged
Ray‟s  shorts  off,  getting  his  first  real  look  at  his  lover‟s
dick.  Easily  as  long  as  his  own  and  rather  thicker,  it  felt
good in his hand, hot and alive. If an uncircumcised cock
was  a  novelty  for  Ray,  Alfie  was  equally  unused  to
playing with a cut length. It would need more lubrication
than his own, for a start, but his fingers were still greasy
with the butter from the popcorn, and that did the trick in
the absence of anything else.

Ray certainly seemed to be enjoying it, as Alfie‟s hand

shuttled up and down his length, slowly at first then with
growing  confidence.  Touching  was  good,  but  tasting
would  be  even  better.  Setting  his  glasses  down  on  the
coffee  table,  Alfie  took  the  blunt  head  of  Ray‟s  cock
between  his  lips  and  started  to  suck.  In  response,  Ray
groaned, low in his throat.

Mouth full of salty, buttered cock-flesh, Alfie glanced

up to see Ray‟s eyelids had fluttered shut and he was
playing with his own nipple, twisting the hard bud
between his fingertips.

„Oh, yeah, Alfie, just like that. Don‟t stop.‟
Alfie‟s free hand clutched at Ray‟s firm arse cheek.

Whatever  the  man  did  to  keep  in  shape,  it  certainly
worked. He had a leaner body and a tauter backside than
many of the guys Alfie saw in the college dorm showers.
And Ray‟s cock was so wonderfully responsive, seeming
to  grow  even  more  in  Alfie‟s  mouth  as  his  finger  traced
down  the  seam  of  his  ball  sac,  heading  for  the  secret,
sensitive place between that and Ray‟s arsehole.

Ray‟s breathing was growing harsher, his hips bucking

forward,  seeking  to  bury  more  of  his  cock  in  Alfie‟s
throat.  „Can‟t  hold  back. Going to  come.‟  Barely had he
forced the words  out  than Alfie‟s mouth was filling with
come,  its  briny  flavour  bitter  against  his  taste  buds.  If
anything, Ray‟s load was more copious than his own, and
he simply couldn‟t swallow it all fast enough. Admitting
defeat, he let Ray‟s cock slip from his lips, the last of the
man‟s spunk spattering against his bare chest.

Almost before he knew what was happening, Ray was

pulling  him  up  into  an  embrace.  They  kissed,  holding
each  other  tightly,  as  if  they  could  never  bear  to  let  go.
Alfie  tasted  himself  on  Ray‟s  lips,  sharp  and  savoury.
Coming up for air at last, he looked to see whether there
was any hint of regret in Ray‟s expression, but saw only
satisfaction.

Ray looked round at the spilled popcorn and muddle of

discarded clothes on the carpet. He seemed about to start
picking some of it up, then shook his head. „That can wait
till the morning,‟ he declared. „Come on, Alfie, let‟s go to
bed.‟

Chapter Four

Dawn  was  breaking,  the  light  grey  and  cold,  when  Ray
woke. For  a moment,  he wondered why he wasn‟t alone
in  his  bed,  as  he  had  been  every  other  night  since  he‟d
moved back to Paradise. Slowly, recollections of the night
before  came  back  to  him.  He  and  Alfie  had  sucked  each
other‟s cock in the living room, before making their way
up  here.  He‟d  expected  they  would  just  fall  asleep  once
they  slipped  between  the  crisply  laundered  sheets,  but
their desire for each other had proved too strong. Ray had
found  his  erection  reviving  with  a  speed  he  thought  had
deserted  him  when  he  turned  30,  and  the  prospect  of
fucking Alfie‟s taut young arse had proved impossible to
resist.

Amazingly, the condoms buried in his nightstand

drawer  hadn‟t  yet  reached  their  best-by  date,  and  he
skinned  one  on  in  double-quick  time  while  Alfie  lay
expectantly  on  the  bed,  watching  with  the  slightly
unfocused  expression of a short-sighted man  who wasn‟t
wearing his glasses.

Ray took a while lubricating Alfie‟s arsehole, making

sure  he  was  able  to  take  a  couple  of  fingers  without
discomfort  before  replacing  them  with  his  cock.  They‟d
made love face to face, Ray‟s big body straddling Alfie‟s,
eyes  locked  together  as  he  pumped  slowly  in  and  out  of
the  boy‟s  arse.  That  had  been  exquisite  on  its  own,  but

when Alfie had looked up at him and murmured, „Tie me
to the bed rail, please,‟ he‟d thought he might come on the
spot. He had no idea where the request had come from,
what strange fantasy was playing out in Alfie‟s head, but
he‟d been only too happy to comply.

He‟d only ever had one lover who was into kinky play,

and that was years ago, before he‟d met Rick the jerk. Jeff
had  been  into  role-play  games.  It  had  been  fun  at  first,
pretending  Jeff  was  a  burglar  who‟d  broken  into  Ray‟s
home.  Mostly  the  game  ended  with  Ray  being
“overpowered”  and  tied  up  so  Jeff  could  fuck  his  arse,
though  on  a  couple  of  occasions  the  roles  had  been
reversed,  with  Jeff  finding  himself  bound  and  helpless.
When Jeff had suggested bringing a knife into their play,
so he could hold it to Ray‟s throat – or, worse, his balls –
as  he  tied  him  up  and  had  his  way  with  him,  Ray  had
called an abrupt halt to their games, and their relationship.
That was a kink too far, a plunge into dark and dangerous
waters, and he didn‟t want to be involved with a man who
found  someone  else‟s  fear  an  aphrodisiac.  But  Alfie  –
Alfie looked as though he would be more than happy with
a little tie and tease, and Ray had no qualms about using
the cord of his dressing gown to fasten the boy‟s wrists to
the bed rail. The added thrill that came from having Alfie
in  restraint,  of  hearing  his  throaty,  ecstatic  cries  as  he
writhed  in  his  bonds,  made  him  thrust  his  cock  deeper
into  Alfie‟s  clutching  arse,  shooting  his  load  into  the
condom.  He  couldn‟t  remember  when  he‟d  last  come
twice  in  a  night,  or  when  he‟d  been  happier  to  hold  his
lover in his arms as he gently drifted off to sleep.

So why, when he‟d enjoyed every minute of what

they‟d  done  together,  was  his  overwhelming  emotion  as
he  looked  at  Alfie,  face  half-buried  in  the  pillow  and
slumbering  peacefully,  one  of  guilt?  It  was  stupid,  he

knew.  He  couldn‟t  claim  he‟d  taken  advantage  of  his
young employee, as Alfie had wanted it every bit as much
as  he  had,  so  why  did  he  feel  he‟d  done  something
wrong? Was it the age difference? Or did it have more to
do  with  his  fears  of  what  would  happen  if  some  of  the
other residents of Paradise found out he was gay?

He needed to get out of the house, to clear his head and

try to decide where things went from here. Quietly, so as
not to wake Alfie, he took the jeans and sweater that were
slung over the back of a chair and slipped into them. His
boots  were  downstairs,  where  he‟d  left  them  last  night.
With  a last,  lingering  look  at  the  gorgeous,  naked  planes
of  Alfie‟s  back  and  the  top  curve  of  his  arse,  exposed
where he‟d flung the sheets back in his sleep, he crept out
of the bedroom and down the stairs.

The morning air was fresh, and Ray breathed in great

lungfuls as he stood on the step, deciding where to go.
There was only one place he‟d find the peace he sought.
Almost on automatic pilot, he turned in the direction of St
Francis‟ Church, heading beyond the town limits.

So early on a Saturday morning, there was no one

around to watch his progress. Fists buried deep in the
pockets of his jacket, he strode forward, still churning
over the events of the previous night in his mind.

Paradise Cemetery was about a mile beyond the edge

of town, surrounded by fields of waving corn. When he‟d
been  at  elementary  school,  he‟d  always  believed  these
fields  gave  Nebraska  its  nickname,  “the  Cornhusker
State”. It was only later he‟d learned the name came from
the  University  of  Nebraska‟s  sports  teams.  Another
illusion shattered. Maybe they should have called it “the
Shattered  Illusion  State”.  It  wouldn‟t  have  been  any  less
appropriate.

Still, the land was fertile here, good for growing, and at

this  time  of  year  the  ears  of  corn  stood  taller  than  Ray,
planted in  neat  rows  stretching out  to  the horizon.  It  was
such  a  familiar  sight,  he  didn‟t  pay  it  any  attention.  His
sole  focus  was  reaching  the  cemetery,  and  one  grave  in
particular.

He‟d buried his father three years earlier, in a plot that

had  been  in  the  Rendell  family  for  a  couple  of  hundred
years. His mother had been here for the best part of thirty
years,  killed  in  a  traffic  accident  while  Ray  was  in  the
third  grade.  Ray  had  never  cared  for  tracing  his  family
tree. He didn‟t really need to. Generation after generation
of  Rendell  had  barely  strayed  beyond  the  limits  of
Paradise.  He  was  the  first  to  leave  for  the  big  city,  and
even  then  circumstances  had  brought  him  back  here,
unable to escape the town‟s pervasive influence.

The plot was overgrown, the last bunch of flowers he‟d

left  here  rotted  away  almost  to  nothing.  It  reminded  him
how long it had been since he‟d last paid the grave a visit.
Now  he  really  did  have  something  to  feel  guilty  about.
Making  a  mental  note  to  come  back  later  with  fresh
flowers, he cleared his throat.

„Hi, Dad. I‟m sorry it‟s been a while. I wanted to talk

to you because I‟ve got something on my mind.‟ Knowing
there  was  no  one  around  to  overhear  him,  to  judge  him,
Ray  launched  into  his  speech,  trying  to  make  sense  of
everything  that  nagged  at  him.  „You  see,  I‟ve  met
someone.  Someone  who  just  kind  of  wandered  into  my
life by accident, but  – well, I don‟t think I‟ve ever fallen
for anyone so  hard or so fast  before. And the problem is
they‟re only 20, and I‟m not sure if I‟m really comfortable
with that kind of age gap.‟

Something rustled in the bushes close by. Startled, Ray

looked round, only to see a rabbit scampering between the
graves, its tail flashing white as it hopped away. He

laughed, a little ashamed of himself for being spooked by
the animal, then he turned back to the grave.

Taking a deep breath, he traced his father‟s name on

the headstone. „Actually, Dad, that‟s not the real problem.
It  doesn‟t  really  have  anything  to  do  with  them,  I  don‟t
think. You see, I‟m so aware that all the time I‟m taking
about this person as “them”, because I‟ve never been able
to admit to you that my lovers have all been men. I wish
I‟d  had  the  guts  to  say  this  to  you  while  you  were  still
here,  Dad,  but  I  was  always  afraid  of  your  reaction.‟  A
lump  rose  to  his  throat,  and  he  choked  the  words  out
around it. „I didn‟t want you to hate me, or think less of
me because I‟m gay. Oh, Dad, I‟m so sorry we never had
this conversation while you were alive …‟

Ray didn‟t attempt to stem the tears that fell from his

eyes,  on  to  the  soft  grass  covering  the  grave.  His  sobs
were brief and bitter, but once they‟d passed, he rose from
the  graveside  feeling  as  though  a  burden  had  been  lifted
just a little way. Simply confessing his feelings out loud,
even  though  his  father  wasn‟t  around  to  hear  them,  had
made  a  difference.  It  wasn‟t  the  solution  to  all  his
problems, but it was a start.

Glancing at his watch, he realised he should be

heading back to town. There were customers to serve –
and, he thought guiltily, Alfie, more than likely
wondering where the hell he‟d disappeared to.

Alfie stretched out, slowly surfacing from sleep. He
patted the bed at the side of him, but instead of the warm
body he expected to encounter, he felt only crumpled bed
linen. Where was Ray? Surely he hadn‟t dreamed what
had happened last night?

The slight, pleasurable soreness in his arse told him

otherwise, as did the terrycloth dressing gown cord, still

looped round the bed rail where it had been left once Ray
had untied him.

He‟d never had sex like it. For once, he‟d finally

gained the courage to ask for something more than just a
simple  fuck.  The  moment  Ray  had  fastened  the  cord
round  his  wrists,  securing  him  in  place  so  he  could
plunder his arse, he‟d felt as though he was coming home.
For so long, he‟d had fantasies where he was bound and
being  made  to  pleasure  another  man,  or  been  tied,
helpless,  as  a  hard  cock  thrust  into  his  willing  mouth  or
his arsehole over and over. Until last night, he‟d never felt
comfortable  about  confessing  those  fantasies  to  anyone.
Ray  –  older,  more  experienced,  more  sensitive  to  his
needs  than  guys  of  his  own  age  –  had  been  the  first  one
he‟d  trusted  enough  to  blurt  out  his  desires.  Trusted
enough  to  think  this  could  be  the  start  of  a  beautiful
romance.

At least, he‟d thought he could trust him. Looking at

the  empty  space  beside  him,  it  seemed  Ray  was  having
second  thoughts.  When  he‟d  asked  Ray  whether  they
should  be  getting  involved,  he‟d  expressed  his  doubts.
Those appeared to have been overcome the moment Ray‟s
warm  mouth  closed  round  Alfie‟s  cock.  But  obviously
they‟d surfaced again with a vengeance. What else could
explain the man‟s absence?

Alfie heaved himself out of bed and went to the

bathroom,  needing  to  empty  his  bladder.  His  elation  was
ebbing  away, replaced by  a  growing sense of hurt. He‟d
made  himself  vulnerable  last  night,  shown  Ray  a  side  of
himself he usually kept hidden, and where had it got him?

If he‟d had anywhere else to go, he‟d have told Ray he

was really sorry, but he couldn‟t carry on working in the
diner any more. He must have earned enough to pay for
the items the man had bought him in the general store,

plus  a  little  on  top,  but  nowhere  like  what  he  needed  to
get  out  to  the  west  coast  and  find  Brad.  He  supposed  he
could  try hitching his  way to  San Francisco, but  the idea
still made him uneasy. Effectively, he was stuck here.

Still stewing on his dilemma, he was startled to hear a

door  slamming  somewhere  below  him.  Clutching  a  hand
towel  in  front  of  him,  he  went  out  into  the  hall,  looking
down  over  the  banister  rail  to  see  where  the  noise  had
come from.

To his surprise, he saw Ray standing by the front door,

taking off his jacket. There was a high colour in Ray‟s
cheeks and he seemed a little out of breath, as though he‟d
walked some distance at high speed.

„Morning, Alfie!‟ Ray called up the stairs, sounding

more cheerful than Alfie would‟ve expected, given the
circumstances. „It‟s really beautiful out there.‟

He beckoned to Alfie to join him. Thoroughly

confused, Alfie padded downstairs, wishing he‟d taken a
moment to tie the towel round him securely. As it was, he
felt acutely conscious that he was as good as naked, while
Ray was fully dressed.

„Is everything OK?‟ Alfie asked. „Only when I woke

up and you weren‟t there, I …‟

„Everything‟s fine, Alfie. I just needed time to sort a

few things out.‟ Ray pulled Alfie to him. „We‟ve got a
busy day today.‟

Caught in Ray‟s strong embrace, Alfie found there

were so many questions still buzzing round his brain. Just
where had Ray been? What did he need to sort out? And
where did it leave them?

That last question was partially answered as Ray‟s

warm  lips  pressed  against  his  own.  The  kiss  was  hard,
demanding,  Ray  seeking  to  claim  Alfie‟s  mouth  for  his
own.  Without  thinking,  Alfie  wrapped  his  arms  round

Ray‟s neck, the towel falling to the floor in the process.

When Ray finally broke the kiss, he stepped back a

pace  to  admire  Alfie‟s  naked  body,  eyes  drawn  to  the
cock that stood proudly  at  full  mast.  Alfie blushed at  the
strength  of  his  response,  but  made  no  attempt  to  cover
himself.

„Oh, what a sight that is.‟ Ray‟s lips curled in a slow

smile. „If only I could have you working like that in the
diner. Just an apron to cover that big, hard dick and your
arse bare to the world as you moved between the
tables …‟

The thought set Alfie‟s cock twitching. The rude little

fantasies  Ray  weaved  were  so  in  tune  with  his  own.
Games  of  public  exposure,  none  of  them  possible  in  the
real  world,  but  designed  to  keep  him  hard  and  on  edge
throughout the day.

Ray grabbed Alfie‟s erection, hand moving nimbly

along its length. „How would you like that, Alfie? Naked
and at my beck and call, on display to all our
customers …‟

Alfie couldn‟t keep up with Ray‟s mood swings. One

minute the man was  creeping out of bed before dawn, as
though he was ashamed of what they‟d done together, the
next he was playing with his cock, bringing him to a point
where  his  climax  was  only  a  couple  of  hot,  breathless
moments  away.  A  last  turn  of  his  fingers,  concentrating
on the sweet spot just below Alfie‟s cockhead, and spunk
was jetting out over Ray‟s fist.

Slumped against the wall, Alfie was almost mortified

at how quickly Ray had drawn a climax from him,
evidence of how much he loved being teased and
tormented by the man‟s dirty words and clever fingers.

„Mmm, so sweet.‟ Ray licked the come from the back

of his hand, then fixed Alfie with a stern look. „Go get

dressed. We‟ll be opening in a few minutes.‟

Alfie scrambled up the stairs, knowing he needed to

have  a  serious  talk  with  Ray  about  where  he  stood.  He
knew he could very easily fall for the diner owner like he
never had for any other man, lust and growing friendship
turning to  love. But  what  was  the use in  loving someone
who  appeared  to  have  so  many  secrets?  Never  mind  that
when  September  rolled  round,  Alfie  would  have  to  be
back in Boston for the start of the fall term. Wherever his
future lay, it wasn‟t in Paradise with Ray, and there was
no point thinking otherwise.

Chapter Five

Ray busied himself with the breakfast orders, trying not to
let his gaze linger on Alfie as he bustled in and out of the
diner‟s kitchen. He hadn‟t planned on jerking the lad off
in the hall when he‟d returned from the cemetery. Indeed,
he‟d been prepared to outline a little of why he‟d slipped
out  of  the  bed  they‟d  shared  so  early,  and  where  he‟d
gone.  But  then  he‟d  seen  Alfie,  hair  tousled  from  sleep,
using  that  silly  hand  towel  to  conceal  his  hard-on,  and
been  unable  to  resist  the  opportunity  to  kiss  and  caress
him.  Alfie  was  so  willing  to  please,  and  just  a  bit  naïve
when  it  came  to  love  and  life,  needing  an  older  man  to
show him the way. Ray could almost hear Rick the jerk‟s
voice in the back of his mind. „There you go, needing to
fix him again.‟ He ignored it.

Alfie had woken something in him he‟d thought lost

when  he  moved  back  to  Paradise,  where  caring  for  his
ailing father and making sure the diner stayed in business
took  priority  over  everything  else.  Now,  with  his  father
long since dead and buried and the diner as successful as
it  could  be,  given  the  town‟s  ageing,  dwindling
population,  maybe it was  time he  finally  started  thinking
about his own needs. But people talked, and the last thing
Ray  wanted  was  to  be  the  subject  of  unwelcome,  even
vicious tittle-tattle amongst the townsfolk.

Mae had noticed a change in him as soon as she‟d

walked through the door. „You seem pretty perky today,
Ray,‟ she‟d said, hanging up her coat. „If I didn‟t know
better, I‟d reckon you got laid last night.‟

„Just went for a walk and got some fresh Nebraska air

in  my  lungs,  Mae,  that‟s  all,‟  Ray  replied,  fighting  the
urge to confess that he‟d had an incredible time between
the  sheets.  Would  he  have  been  more  willing  to  admit
what  he‟d  done  if  he‟d  spent  the  night  with  a  woman?
He‟d known Mae for long enough to be sure she wouldn‟t
look at him any differently if she was aware of the truth,
but still something held him back.

„Well, whatever you‟re up to, it looks like it‟s doing

you some good.‟

Ray said nothing. Fucking Alfie would definitely do

him good. Keeping him as his dirty little secret was a
different matter.

The diner was busier than usual that morning. A yard

sale was being held over at St Francis‟, to raise money for
church  funds,  and  it  seemed  most  of  the  organisers  had
popped  in  for  coffee  and  pancakes  before  the  hard  work
of  selling  all  the  donations  began.  Ray  watched  them,
chattering  and  laughing  in  loud,  high  voices  as  they
tucked  into  their  food,  dissecting  the  marriage  of  some
woman  they  all  knew.  Experience  had  taught  him  that
strong religious belief didn‟t necessarily equate to holding
narrow-minded  views  about  others‟  lifestyles  and
sexuality, but he‟d have admitted his feelings for Alfie to
almost anyone in Paradise before he shared them with the
gossips in the booth by the window.

As Mae was occupied taking orders, Alfie went over to

refill  the  cups  of  the  church  crowd.  Ray  couldn‟t  fail  to
notice  how  they  cast  appreciative  glances  at  the  way  the
boy‟s jeans outlined his small, tight arse, and looked up at
him  under  lowered  eyelashes  as  he  poured  them  more

coffee. Flirt all you want, ladies, he thought, grinning to
himself. You don’t know it, but you haven’t got a chance
in hell.

„Honey.‟ Mae‟s voice was a purr in Ray‟s ear, startling

him back to awareness. „Hiring Alfie was the best thing
you ever did …‟

For a moment, he thought she‟d worked out the truth

of the relationship between them, and wondered what
he‟d done to give himself away.

„Everyone loves that cute English accent of his. I tell

you,  we‟re  going  to  need  a  bigger  tip  jar.‟  She  pulled  a
handful of bills from her uniform pocket and added them
to  those  already  stuffed  into  the  jar.  With  a  wink,  she
picked  up  the  plates  bearing  a  Western  omelette  and  an
order  of  eggs  Benedict  that  waited  on  the  counter  and
went to take them to the young couple in the corner booth.

The diner always shut at two on weekends. When Ray
closed up that Saturday, he was tempted to drag Alfie up
to the bedroom and pick up where they‟d left off the night
before, but he fought the urge. There would be time
enough for that later.

„When I was talking to the ladies from the church,‟

Alfie said, as they wandered through to the living room,
„they suggested we go over there and take a look at what
they‟re selling.‟

„Money burning a hole in your pocket, hey?‟ Ray

asked,  grinning  widely.  Mae  had  shared  out  the  contents
of the tip jar, and even accounting for the money he owed
out of his wages for his replacement wardrobe, Alfie had
appeared delighted at finally having a little cash to spend.
„There‟s  no  point.  All  the  good  stuff  will  have  gone  by
now. Unless  you really want to treat  yourself to a box of
Marley Jenkins‟ hard candies. They taste a lot better than

they look, apparently.‟

Alfie shook his head. „I‟d just like to talk a walk,

really. I haven‟t seen too much of the town since I got
here.‟

„You‟ve pretty much seen all that‟s worth seeing,

Alfie. Paradise isn‟t the most exciting of towns.‟

„So why do you stay here? You‟re such a good cook,

you could sell the diner, move away and open another one
just about anywhere.‟

Ray didn‟t really want to have this conversation, not

right  now,  but  Alfie  was  persistent.  Finally,  he  admitted,
„I tried some of that. The moving away part, at least. But I
had to come back. My old man got sick, needed someone
to take care of him. That‟s when I made a promise to him,
to  keep  the  diner  going  after  he  died.  He  worked  for  so
many  years  in  the  place,  took  so  much  pride  in  it,  I  just
couldn‟t let all that hard work go to waste. And if I tried
to sell it now, who‟d buy it?‟ He sighed. „There‟s so little
to  keep  people  here.  If  things  keep  going  the  way  they
are,  in  another  ten,  twenty  years‟  time,  there  won‟t  be  a
Paradise any longer.‟

Alfie didn‟t reply. Ray supposed there wasn‟t much he

could say, after a speech like that. Knowing he needed to
do something to lighten the mood, he snatched his keys
up from the coffee table. „But you‟re right. We need to
get out, do something. Let‟s go for a long walk, work up
an appetite, and tonight I‟ll cook you spaghetti with some
of my world-famous marinara sauce.‟

Despite his disparaging comments about the yard sale,

Ray  found  himself  taking  Alfie  over  to  the  church.  The
event was coming to a close, and as he‟d predicted, there
was very little left to be sold. Most of what remained was
stuff  he‟d  never  have  a  use  for.  He  couldn‟t  see  himself
toting  golf  clubs,  or  needing  a  baby  carriage  or  camping

equipment.  Though  as  he  looked  at  the  two-man  tent,  he
couldn‟t  help  thinking  about  pitching  it  in  the  wildlife
park  over  at  Kirkpatrick  Basin,  lying  in  the  long  grass
with Alfie and looking up at the stars. So close to nature,
they‟d  be  compelled  to  give  in  to  their  animal  urges,
fucking  and  sucking  each  other  till  they  howled  out  like
coyotes,  their  passionate  cries  swallowed  up  by  the  vast
emptiness of the night sky.

„Penny for them,‟ Alfie murmured, coming up behind

Ray.

„You ever been camping?‟ Ray asked, still holding one

of the tent poles.

„A long time ago, when I was at school. We went up to

the highlands of Scotland. It rained for three days straight
and I got covered in midge bites. Let‟s just say I only
tried it the once.‟

„Well, how do you fancy trying it again? I was

thinking we could drive out into the countryside, light a
fire, get back to nature …‟ His fingers skittered back and
forth along the pole, the gesture unmistakably sexual.

Alfie grinned. „What happened to the world-famous

spaghetti sauce?‟

„Ah, I didn‟t tell you. I also make world-famous

s‟mores.‟

From the baffled look on his face, Alfie clearly didn‟t

have a clue what a s‟more was. Ray smiled to himself as
he handed over ten dollars to pay for the tent.
Enlightening the boy was going to be so much fun.

The Kirkpatrick Basin area, less than ten miles down the
interstate from Paradise, had been developed over the past
decade as a wetland area for wild birds. In the spring, it
was a magnet for migrating ducks and snow geese as they
returned north, but in the high summer months there were

fewer birds and fewer overnight visitors. Ray filled Alfie
in on the history of the area as he loaded his newly-
acquired tent, along with all the other bits and pieces they
would need for a night‟s camping into the back of his
pick-up truck.

As they made the short drive out to the reserve, Alfie

realised he must have passed the spot on his long, arduous
trek from where Brad had dumped him. He didn‟t
remember it at all. He‟d done his best to blot that whole
day from his memory. But if he hadn‟t fought with Brad,
he‟d never have found himself banging on the door of
Ray‟s diner, never taken the first, faltering steps on what
could prove to be the path to something really special …

What was he thinking? He had to stop regarding his

relationship with Ray as anything more than a summer
fling, assuming it even progressed that far. Anything else
was far too complicated, not to mention unlikely.

Parking the truck in the car park at the entrance to the

reserve,  they  followed  a  trail  out  into  the  low-lying
grasslands. A notice in the car park informed them of the
permitted  behaviour  once  they  were  on  Nebraska  Game
and  Parks  Commission  land.  There  were  no  restrictions
when  it  came  to  pitching  their  tent,  but  they  could  only
light  a  fire  in  the  fireplaces  provided.  Alfie  had  no  idea
whether wildfires were common in the area, but it seemed
like a sensible enough precaution.

It didn‟t take them long to find a suitable site, in a

sheltered hollow, and between them they set about putting
up the tent. Dusk was falling, and it seemed to Alfie they
could be the only two people left in the world, such was
the sense of solitude around them. Only the occasional cry
of a night bird broke the stillness.

Ray set about constructing and lighting their fire, using

kindling and firelighters he‟d picked up at the general

store. Alfie realised that once Ray got an idea in his head,
he  pursued  it  with  single-minded  thoroughness.  He
supposed that had helped with everything he‟d had to do
on  his  return  to  Paradise.  When  he‟d  been  talking  about
his  father‟s  illness,  and  his  promise  to  keep  the  diner
open,  Alfie  had  sensed  there‟d  been  more  to  the  story,
something Ray wasn‟t yet willing to reveal. Perhaps it had
something  to  do  with  his  reluctance  to  admit  his  true
sexuality to the world. All Alfie knew was that Ray would
talk about it in his own sweet time.

Along with everything else they needed, Ray had

brought a small wicker hamper. He opened it to reveal,
among other things, a vacuum flask. „Fancy a drink? I
made some Irish coffee before we left.‟

He poured a generous amount into a plastic mug, and

handed it to Alfie. The coffee had been liberally laced
with whiskey, and as Alfie took a sip he felt it warming
him all the way to his belly.

„OK, so let‟s get those s‟mores on the go,‟ Ray

announced, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

A s‟more, Alfie quickly learned, consisted of a

marshmallow  toasted  over  the  fire  till  it  melted,  before
being  sandwiched,  along  with  a  square  of  chocolate,
between  two  Graham  crackers,  the  American  equivalent
of  digestive  biscuits.  They  were  messy  to  make,  but
delicious to eat, and there was something almost hypnotic
about  staring  into  the  fire,  watching  the  marshmallow
slowly turn molten on the point of a stick.

„I told you this would be fun.‟ Ray‟s eyes shone in the

light from the campfire. He divided the last of the coffee
between his own mug and Alfie‟s. „You having a good
time, Alfie?‟

„I can‟t remember the last time I had a better one,‟

Alfie admitted. Saturdays back in Boston, he‟d usually be

cooped  up  in  his  room,  studying,  oblivious  to  the  fact
everyone  around  him  was  partying.  Sometimes  he‟d  find
himself being dragged out for a couple of beers, or to see
one  of  the  many  covers  bands  that  played  the  local  bar
circuit. Never would he have imagined he‟d find himself
spending  Saturday  night  on  a  wild  bird  reserve,  eating
sticky campfire treats with a gorgeous older man.

Alfie drained his mug, wishing there was more of the

wickedly alcoholic  coffee.  It  was  making him feel  loose,
relaxed,  ready  for  almost  anything.  Flopping  back  in  the
grass,  he  gazed up at  the star-strewn sky. The only thing
that  would  make  this  moment  better  was  having  Ray‟s
body twined with his.

„It‟s so beautiful here,‟ he murmured. „Come and join

me, Ray. Come and look at the stars.‟

„So when did the bus boy start giving his boss the

orders?‟ Ray set  down the stick he‟d been using to  toast
the marshmallows.  He came over to  Alfie, but didn‟t lie
down  beside  him,  as  Alfie  had  hoped.  „Don‟t  you  know
who‟s in charge around here?‟

„You are – sir.‟ Alfie added the last word with a

hiccupping  giggle.  Whatever  game  Ray  had  decided  to
play, he was more than willing to be part of it. His mind
raced  back  to  the  night  before,  when  Ray  had  responded
to  his  need  to  be  tied  up  and  taken.  If  his  boss  had
suddenly  decided  to  adopt  the  dominant  role  again,  he
wasn‟t complaining.

„I‟m glad to hear it. And just so we‟re both sure of the

fact, you‟re going to demonstrate how good you are at
doing what you‟re told. Stand up, Alfie.‟

As if on automatic pilot, Alfie rose to his feet.
„It‟s a warm night, isn‟t it?
Alfie nodded. The June temperature, even in the small

hours, didn‟t seem to dip much below 20 degrees

Centigrade here, so they hadn‟t needed to bring anything
in the way of warm clothing, or a heavy sleeping bag.

„So warm,‟ Ray continued, „that I don‟t really think

you need any of your clothes, do you? So why don‟t you
take them off?‟

Did Ray really expect him to undress just like that?

They might have been out in the middle of nowhere, but
there was still the possibility of midnight hikers, come to
enjoy this beautiful summer‟s night. But even as Alfie‟s
mind pondered the chances of discovery, his fingers were
undoing the laces of his boots. He kicked them off, along
with his socks, bare toes wriggling in delight at the feel of
the soft grass beneath them.

Turning to his jeans, he unbuckled his belt, popped the

fly buttons. Ray said nothing as he took them off, just
watched him with a mixture of satisfaction and raw
desire. His expression seemed to suggest he‟d never for a
moment doubted Alfie would obey his instructions.

Alfie‟s T-shirt followed the rest of his clothes, ending

in a pile by his feet. He stood before Ray in nothing but
the tight white briefs he‟d bought at the general store. His
cock was already uncoiling as best it could in the
restricting cotton, seeking its freedom.

„Underwear, too,‟ Ray demanded. „Show me

everything you‟ve got.‟

The words sent a strong jolt of excitement to Alfie‟s

cock. Conscious that Ray‟s gaze had sunk to the level of
his crotch, he eased down his briefs, his dick bobbing up
over the waistband, eager for attention.

Despite his embarrassment at having to strip, Alfie was

revelling in the feel of the warm night air against his bare
skin. For reasons he couldn‟t explain, he seemed to feel
every sensation all the more keenly because he wore not a
stitch while Ray hadn‟t so much as unbuttoned his shirt.

Was swimming permitted here? He strove to remember

all the prohibitions on the official notice in the car park.
The night was just perfect for skinny-dipping, and they‟d
passed a lake a few hundred yards back down the trail.
Maybe Ray would let him–

The next command made him forget all about the

possibility of a refreshing swim. „Hands on your head and
turn round slowly. I want to see that cute arse of yours.‟

If anyone stumbled across them now, there‟d be no

doubting there was  a deep sexual  undercurrent  to  events.
A  boy  stripping  off  for  a  refreshing  dip  was  one  thing.
That  same  boy,  standing  submissively  in  a  posture
designed  to  display  his  hard,  yearning  cock  and  firm
backside, was something else entirely.

Alfie turned in a lazy pirouette, giving Ray plenty of

time to feast on the sight of his naked charms.

„Very good,‟ Ray said at length. He reached for his zip.

The metallic rasp as he tugged it down was the loudest
sound in the hollow.

Alfie‟s mouth watered at the prospect of seeing Ray‟s

hefty cock once more. He‟d be doing more than look at it
before the night was out, that was certain, but for now his
eyes were fixed on the smooth, cut length as Ray freed it
from his pants. Just as hard as Alfie‟s own, beads of
precome shone at its tip. He longed to lick them off, just
as he longed to devour every last drop of Ray‟s come.

„Come over here, Alfie. Show me just how good you

are with your mouth.‟

Alfie dropped to his knees, crawling through the grass

to where Ray stood waiting. The ticklish blades felt like
thousands of tiny fingers brushing against his skin,
stimulating his sensitive nerve-endings.

Ray‟s jeans and underwear were bunched at his ankles,

his cock jutting out from beneath the tails of his plaid

shirt.  On  another  man,  the  effect  might  have  been
comical, but to Alfie‟s eyes Ray looked magnificent, cool
and  in  total  control  of  the  situation.  He  took  a  firm  grip
around  the  base  of  Ray‟s  shaft,  breathing  in  the  hot,
musky scent  of his  crotch as  his  face nuzzled close to  it.
Closing  his  eyes,  he  plunged  his  mouth  down  on  to  the
steely length, swallowing as much of it as he could.

His lover must have been expecting a more subtle

approach,  because  he  gasped  in  surprise  at  the  feel  of
being immediately buried in Alfie‟s throat. But for Alfie,
last  night  had  been  about  slow,  tender  caresses,  gentle
licks  and  a  gradual  exploration  of  Ray‟s  body.  Tonight,
roused to wildness by his surroundings, he was putting on
a  more  primitive,  urgent  performance.  His  head  bobbed
furiously, spit drooling from the corners of his mouth and
trickling down towards Ray‟s balls. As he sucked, his fist
shuttled  up  and  down,  increasing  the  level  of  sensation
Ray must be feeling.

His own cock was almost painfully hard, demanding to

be stroked, but even without being told, Alfie knew Ray‟s
pleasure came first. Only when the other man had reached
orgasm would he be allowed his own release. Maybe not
even then.

Thoughts of having his own gratification delayed till a

moment  of  Ray‟s  choosing  spurred  Alfie  on  to  suck
harder,  faster.  Remembering  what  had  been  done  to  him
the  night  before,  and  the  shattering  effect  it  had  on  him,
he  ran  a  finger  over  Ray‟s  arsehole,  seeking  to  enter  by
the back door.

„Oh, God, yeah! That‟s it.‟ Ray lost all semblance of

control, his hips bucking, pushing even more of his cock
between Alfie‟s lips. Alfie held still, letting Ray fuck his
mouth until, with a roar loud enough to startle the birds
from the trees, he shot his load. When he pulled out, spent

and gasping, Alfie took hold of his shaft once more,
lovingly licking it clean.

„Thank you.‟ No longer the stern master, Ray helped

Alfie to his feet. Pins and needles prickled in his legs as
Ray held him tight. Their lips met, the kiss deep and
tender, Ray‟s mouth tasting of whiskey and chocolate.

If only we could stay like this forever, Alfie thought,

breaking the kiss to stare into Ray‟s hazel eyes. Holding
each other, loving each other. Never having to get back to
the real world.

It was a nice dream, but one he knew could never

become reality. Still, it felt good to rest his head against
Ray‟s chest for a long moment, feeling the other man‟s
heart beating in time with his own.

„Maybe we should do something about this, huh?‟ As

Ray spoke, he caught hold of Alfie‟s cock. His touch, the
teasing tone of his voice, made Alfie‟s senses come alive
again. All it took was for Ray‟s fingers to start skating
back and forth, tugging Alfie‟s foreskin over the hard
core, to have him whimpering with need.

„Please, sir.‟ Now there was no joking around when

Alfie used the term, just pure longing. „Please make me
come.‟

„Make you?‟ Ray chuckled, never varying the slow,

steady  pace  with  which  he  was  wanking  Alfie‟s  dick.  „I
don‟t  know  about  that.  Maybe  I‟ll  allow  you.  Or  maybe
I‟ll just fasten you to a tree and leave you there all night,
cock  hard  and  aching.  How  would  you  like  that,  huh?
Wanting so badly to come, and knowing you couldn‟t do
one damn thing to make it happen …‟

„Whatever you want, sir.‟ Alfie was so close to the

edge, knowing only a few more strokes would have him
spilling his seed over Ray‟s fist.

„Maybe some hiker would find you there, bound and

helpless. Oh, he‟d think about setting you free. You‟d beg
him so nicely. But maybe he wouldn‟t be able to resist
dropping to his knees, taking your cock in his mouth. Just
think of it, Alfie, a complete stranger sucking you off.
And when he‟d done that, he‟d untie you, spin you round
and fuck your tight little arse …‟

Alfie groaned, lost in the fantasy Ray was spinning.

Just at the moment when he knew he couldn‟t hold back
any longer, Ray stopped wanking him. He slumped to his
knees, choking back his disappointment at being denied
the orgasm he craved.

Fishing deep in the wicker hamper, Ray brought out a

condom and anal lube. With a grin, he asked, „What is it
the Boy Scouts say? “Be prepared”?‟

Fucking bareback would be more appropriate to the

feeling of being at one with nature, but Alfie appreciated
Ray‟s  concern  for  his  safety.  Sprawled  in  the  grass,  he
watched  Ray  rip  open  the  little  foil  packet,  rolling  the
condom  down  over  an  erection  that  had  already  revived.
He  shivered  with  anticipation  at  the  thought  of  that  big,
sheathed cock sliding up his hole.

Something cool and sticky trickled down the crack of

his arse. Lube, and plenty of it. A finger pressed at the
entrance to his arse, working in just a little way. Even that
intrusion was enough to have Alfie humping against the
ground, excited beyond measure.

The finger pushed in to the second knuckle. „Does that

feel good?‟ Ray asked.

„Yes, sir, but it‟ll feel better when your cock takes its

place.‟  Alfie‟s  cheekiness  earned  him  a  sharp  swat  on
both  buttocks.  He  groaned,  already  on  the  verge  of
coming.  Thinking  of  complicated  chemical  formulas
helped  to  quell  the  sensation,  though  it  was  hard  to
concentrate  on  anything  but  the  feel  of  Ray‟s  probing

finger. It was swiftly joined by another, its passage eased
by the lube and the gradual loosening of his tight ring.

When the fingers withdrew, Alfie heard Ray shuffling

into place behind him. A moment‟s pause, as though Ray
was contemplating the sight of him, arse raised and ready
to be penetrated, then that thick, condom-covered cock
was easing into him. Inch by inch, he felt himself being
filled with hot, solid man-flesh.

„Get ready for the fuck of your life.‟ Ray gave him a

moment to become used to the feel of the cock in his arse,
then started to thrust. Alfie knew that as Ray had already
come once, he‟d be able to keep going for quite a while.
He, on the other hand, was sure it wouldn‟t take more
than a minute before he was shooting his load into the
grass.

Reaching for Alfie‟s wrists, Ray brought them

together, pinning them in the small of his back. For Alfie,
it mimicked the sensation of being in restraint, keeping
him in place as his lover pounded ruthlessly into his arse.

Ray murmured something close to his ear. Lost in his

pre-orgasmic daze, Alfie couldn‟t be sure, but it sounded
like, „I‟ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.‟

„Fuck me,‟ Alfie begged. „Make me yours. Now and

forever.‟  The  words  slipped  out  before  he  could  stop
them,  laying  his  emotions  bare.  If  Ray  said  anything  in
response,  he  didn‟t  hear  it.  His  cock  was  spewing  come
over  the  ground  beneath  him,  spasms  of  pure  ecstasy
causing his arse to clench around Ray‟s length.

Somehow, Ray kept going, defying the pressure that

should have milked the come from his balls. He continued
thrusting for a good couple of minutes before, with a final
hard thrust, he filled Alfie‟s arse with his spunk.

Too exhausted to do anything but lay where he was,

Alfie sighed as Ray kissed a long, slow trail down the

length of his back. „Thank you,‟ he said at length. „For
tonight. For everything.‟

Ray flopped on to his back beside him. „This is crazy.‟
Alfie half-rose in alarm, expecting to hear some

comment about the impossibility of their being together.
„What is? I think it‟s pretty much perfect.‟

„I mean, we carry that tent all this way, we spend half

an hour putting the damn thing up. And for what? I don‟t
know about you, but I‟m quite happy to lie here all night.‟

„Me, too.‟
Alfie snuggled into the crook of Ray‟s arm. There was

so much he wanted to add, the words „I love you‟
hovering close to his lips. But Ray‟s breathing had slowed
and in moments he was snoring gently. Naked beneath the
glittering canopy of stars, Alfie closed his eyes and joined
his lover in sleep.

Chapter Six

They  only  just  made  it  back  to  Paradise  before  the  first
customers arrived at the diner the following morning. Ray
could have stayed out in the country all day, walking the
birding  trail  with  Alfie,  pausing  every  so  often  to  share
long, hot kisses with the boy. But there were breakfasts to
be served, townsfolk to be kept fed. Not for the first time,
Ray  wished  he  could  shrug  off  the  burden  of
responsibility  that  came  with  running  such  a  vital
business. But as he‟d said to Alfie, if he wasn‟t prepared
to run the diner, who was?

Besides, throwing himself into his work might not be

such  a  bad  thing.  It  would  help  prevent  him  thinking
about  what  would happen when Alfie had to  leave town.
Last night, under the stars, they‟d made a real connection,
so  deep  it  was  almost  frightening.  This  was  nothing  like
what he‟d had with Rick, or Jeff; it felt an awful lot like
love. He could no longer deny the strength of his feelings,
and  that  made  it  all  the  harder  to  pretend  to  the  world
Alfie  was  nothing  more  than  the  boy  who  cleared  tables
and mopped the diner floor.

Despite  his  misgivings,  and  the  strain  of  keeping  his
relationship  with  Alfie  a secret,  life settled into  a pattern
as the weeks went by. By day, the job of running the diner
kept  him busy, and at  night  he tutored Alfie in  the art of

obedience.  He  quickly  established  the  boy  wasn‟t  much
into  pain,  beyond  the  occasional  light  spanking  on  his
bare  arse,  but  he  loved  to  be  ordered  around.  Nothing
seemed to get Alfie hotter than having to be naked while
he  remained  fully  dressed,  and  he  delighted  in  weaving
stories where Alfie was kept in the nude at all times, even
being displayed to others in that state.

Alfie never tired of sucking Ray‟s cock, or having his

tight, responsive arsehole played with. He reacted eagerly
to each new experience, letting Ray guide him in his
willing submission. If only it didn‟t have to come to an
end.

Still, there was enough time left to introduce Alfie to a

few new  games before he went  back to  college.  Ray had
gone  on  line  one  night  while  Alfie  was  sleeping,  and
ordered some goods from a sex toy website who promised
fast,  discreet  delivery.  He‟d  chosen  a  slim  jelly  dildo,
specially  designed  for  anal  penetration,  and  a  string  of
silicone  love  beads.  He  couldn‟t  wait  to  grease  those  up
and slide them into Alfie‟s arse, only to pull them out at
the moment he came …

Ray was still thinking about all the fun they were

going to have with those toys when the bells over the
diner door jangled. He glanced at the clock. A couple of
minutes to eight.

„We‟re closed,‟ he called out. It had been a slow night,

and he‟d already sent Mae home. Alfie was mopping the
floor of the rest rooms, before starting on the main body
of the diner. The last customer had left almost half an
hour ago. Now here was someone wanting service just as
he was about to shut the place for the night.

„I don‟t think so.‟ The voice was low, carrying an edge

of menace.

Ray looked over to the doorway. He prided himself on

knowing everyone in Paradise, but he didn‟t recognise the
man who stood there wearing a shabby camo pattern
jacket, a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes.

The stranger pushed the door to, sliding shut the bolt at

the  top  and  turning  the  sign  to  “CLOSED”.  His
movements  were  twitchy,  repetitive,  as  though  he  was
high  on  something.  As  he  moved  closer,  Ray  realised  he
was clutching a gun in his left hand.

Cold fear skittered down his spine, followed by a rush

of sickly heat. Had the man been watching the diner,
waiting till it was empty? „What do you want?‟ he asked.

„All the money in the register,‟ the stranger demanded,

waving the gun in Ray‟s direction. „Just give it to me nice
and slowly, you won‟t get hurt.‟

Ray knew better than to argue with him, ringing up “no

sale” on the register and watching the drawer spring open.
He‟d  always  thought  he‟d  fight  back  if  he  was  robbed,
rather than meekly handing over his hard-earned takings.
The  reality  of  the  situation  was  starkly  different.  They
couldn‟t  have  taken  more  than  $300  today,  and  the
rational part of his mind told him it was a stupidly small
amount  to  risk  getting  shot  over.  If  the  man  was  in  need
of  money  to  pay  for  his  next  fix,  that  should  more  than
cover it.

He placed the bills on the counter, constantly aware of

the gun barrel only inches from his chest. For all he knew,
the thing wasn‟t even loaded, but he couldn‟t take the
risk.

„There you go, that‟s everything,‟ he said, watching the

thief scoop up the cash and stuff it into his jacket pocket.
He was doing his best to remember every detail of the
man‟s face – the pinched cheeks, the sparse moustache
over his thin top lip – so he could give the police the best
description he could when he reported the robbery.

At that moment, there was a clattering noise from

somewhere  at  the  back  of  the  diner.  Alfie,  kicking  the
metal mop bucket across the floor, no doubt. Don’t come
any closer,  Ray wanted  to  call out.  Don’t  put  yourself  in
any  kind  of  danger.  He  tried  to  gesture  to  Alfie  to  stay
where he was, and not draw any attention to himself.

The robber misinterpreted Ray‟s surreptitious arm

wave. He fixed Ray with cold, dead eyes. „What the fuck
are you playing at, man? You sending someone to call the
cops?‟

„No, nothing like that. I swear.‟
The robber‟s trigger finger flexed. Ray heard a bang,

felt pain blossom in his left leg. He staggered backwards,
howling out in shock and agony. Clutching at the edge of
the counter, he fought to keep a grip of consciousness.
The last thing he saw was Alfie, racing towards the
gunman, then the world around him went black.

Alfie stepped out of the men‟s room, mentally crossing
the chore off his list. He needed to let Ray know the paper
dispenser needed refilling, and they were running low on
soap in the women‟s room. Surprised to see Ray taking an
order from a customer after the diner had officially
closed, it took him a moment to work out what was wrong
with the picture. People popping in for a late snack didn‟t
usually do so holding a gun. The diner was being robbed.

What should he do? He set down the bucket,

wondering if he could reach into his jeans pocket for his
phone and call the police without alerting the robber. Ray
shot him an anxious glance at the sound, waving his hand
at knee level as though to let him know he had the
situation under control.

Which was when everything went crazy. A shot rang

out, impossibly loud to Alfie‟s ears. Ray‟s cry was high-

pitched, anguished, as he lost his grip on the counter top
and fell to the ground.

Torn between looking after the welfare of his lover and

doing  something  about  the  man  who‟d  shot  him,  Alfie
didn‟t  think  twice.  Heedless  of  his  own  safety,  of  the
possibility  of  there  being  more  bullets  in  the  gun,  he
hurled the mop bucket at the robber. It caught him full on
the  side  of  the  head,  and  he  took  a  couple  of  stumbling
steps,  dropping  the  gun  in  the  process.  Alfie  raced  over,
kicking it out of the man‟s grasp as he sought to retrieve
it.

Mimicking the stance he‟d seen in so many action

films,  legs  wide  apart  and  both  hands  clutching  the  gun,
Alfie  pointed  it  straight  at  the  robber.  „Get  up,
motherfucker!‟  The  line  sounded  faintly  ridiculous
delivered in a Home Counties accent, he knew that, but it
seemed to have the desired effect. The man scrambled to
his  feet,  all  his  cocky  bravado  melting  away  now  Alfie
held the gun.

Gesturing with the barrel, inwardly terrified of

shooting  the  man  by  mistake,  Alfie  ordered  him  over  to
the  diner‟s  cold  store.  Pushing  the  snivelling  robber
inside,  he  shut  the  door,  placing  a  chair  under  the  door
handle to make sure it couldn‟t be opened from the inside.

Checking Ray, he quickly ascertained he was

unconscious, his pulse weak but steady. Only then did he
call 911.

The 20 minutes Alfie spent waiting for the paramedics

to  arrive  were  the  longest  of  his  life.  He  still  couldn‟t
quite believe he‟d been able to overpower the robber, his
giddy euphoria mixed with the delayed shock of being in
a  life-threatening  situation.  He  wrapped  his  apron  round
Ray‟s  thigh,  making  an  improvised  tourniquet  to  try  to
stem  the flow of blood  from the bullet  wound. Crouched

by Ray‟s side, he talked to his lover in a voice that choked
with tears, telling him everything was going to be all
right.

„Please don‟t die,‟ Alfie begged. „I love you so much. I

couldn‟t bear to lose you.‟

Ray‟s eyelids fluttered in response. He didn‟t open his

eyes, but Alfie was convinced he could hear every word.

„Stay with me,‟ he said, keeping a tight hold of Ray‟s

hand, aware of the need to do all he could to keep him
losing consciousness once more. „Help‟ll be here soon, I
promise.‟

When the paramedics finally banged on the door of the

diner, Alfie could hardly bear to tear himself away from
Ray‟s side to let them in. They must have known from his
anxious looks as they made Ray comfortable on a gurney,
ready for the journey down to the hospital in Aurora, his
need for reassurance that Ray was going to be all right,
that the man was more than just his boss. But they didn‟t
make any judgement.

Neither did the two uniformed policemen who arrived

a couple of minutes later to take his statement and bundle
the chilly and confused thief into the back of their patrol
car.

„That was a brave thing you did,‟ the older of the two

policemen told Alfie. „Stupid, too. You could have got
yourself killed.‟

„I know,‟ Alfie replied, „but I‟d do anything for him.‟
The utter conviction in his voice couldn‟t fail to let the

cop know just how he felt about Ray. He only hoped his
actions wouldn‟t have been in vain.

Epilogue

Late afternoon sun streamed in through Ray‟s bedroom
window. On the road outside, a car cruised by, windows
down and its radio blasting out slow-paced country rock.

Just another lazy Sunday in Paradise, Alfie thought,

pausing in the act of trailing kisses along Ray‟s lightly-
furred pecs. Ray‟s nipple stood up hard, the tiny bud
almost demanding to feel Alfie‟s tongue swirling over it.

It was just over a week since Ray had been discharged

from the hospital. They‟d kept him in for a couple of days
after  the  attempted  robbery.  He‟d  needed  only  minor
surgery,  but  he‟d  lost  a  lot  of  blood,  the  surgeon  who
performed  the  operation  explained,  the  bullet  having
nicked  an  artery  on  its  passage  through  his  leg.  If  Alfie
hadn‟t  been  there  to  put  pressure  on  the  wound,  the
outcome could have been a lot worse.

Alfie spent an anxious, sleepless night waiting for the

surgeon  to  come  and  inform  him  how  the  operation  had
gone.  Somehow,  he  still  found  the  presence  of  mind  to
ring Mae and tell her about the attempted robbery. „We‟ll
have to close the diner till Ray‟s up and around again,‟ he
said.  „I‟m  sorry,  but  there‟s  no  way  I  can  handle  the
cooking duties without him. I can just about boil an egg,
but that‟s all.‟

Within half an hour, Mae rang back. She‟d made a few

phone calls, letting people know Ray was in hospital.

Luanne  Wilkins,  who‟d  organised  the  church  yard  sale,
had immediately offered to help out in the diner kitchen in
his  absence.  If  she  had  commitments,  then  someone  else
would surely step in. Now Alfie began to see another side
of  small  town  life:  the  way  people  rallied  round  when  a
member  of  the  community  was  in  trouble;  the  warm-
hearted spirit of friends and neighbours.

The most unexpected side effect of the shooting, and

Alfie‟s battle with the robber, was the arrival of a stream
of  diners  from  out  of  town,  who‟d  seen  the  story  on  the
local  news  and  wanted  to  visit  the  place  for  themselves.
Several of them insisted on having their photo taken with
“the  young  English  hero”,  as  the  news  report  had
described  Alfie.  He  was  slightly  uncomfortable  with  all
the  attention,  but  Mae  told  him  to  enjoy  it,  and  all  the
good wishes that came with it.

When Ray came back to work, he was amazed by the

diner‟s  new-found  fame,  but  delighted  when  so many  of
these  curious  customers  vowed  to  return,  won  over  by
Mae‟s  unforced  friendliness  and  the  quality  of  his
cooking. From struggling to keep the diner afloat, he was
enjoying business like he‟d never known.

„Who‟d have thought the summer would turn out like

this?‟ Alfie said, half to himself, resuming his oral
exploration of Ray‟s chest.

Ray rolled on to his side, Alfie snuggling up against

him so they lay together face to face. „Well, I could‟ve
lived without the getting shot part, but hey, even that has
its compensations …‟ He reached down to take hold of
Alfie‟s swollen cock, making it harden even further with
his sure touch. „I could really get used to being waited on
hand and foot.‟

He‟d be happy to do it to, Alfie wanted to tell him, if

only he wasn‟t haunted by the looming spectre of his

return to  Boston. Instead, he planted a deepening kiss on
Ray‟s lips, relaxing into the delicious  sensation  of being
tugged and teased by his lover. Grasping Ray‟s cock, his
own  fingers  began  to  move  in  the  same  rhythm,  a  slow,
deft dance of mutual masturbation.

Sweaty, urgent sex had its place, and Alfie knew he

could never tire of feeling Ray‟s cock buried deep in his
arse. But sometimes languorous caresses were just as
good, and until Ray‟s leg was properly healed, it didn‟t
hurt to take things easy.

His fist moved smoothly up and down Ray‟s length,

his  fingers  giving  a  little  twist  on  every  upstroke.  From
experience,  he‟d  learned  that  was  one  of  Ray‟s  very
favourite  touches,  something  guaranteed  to  have  him
writhing  against  the  sheet.  In  return,  Ray  gave  his  balls
the  lightest  of  squeezes,  sending  sensations  through  his
body that seemed to spread out from the root of his cock.

Every now and then they paused to plant a kiss on the

other‟s  lips  or  cheek  or  eyelids.  They  were  breathing
faster now, gazing into each other‟s eyes, lost in the thrill
of  giving  and  receiving  pleasure.  The  room  smelled  of
their musky excitement, a scent that roused Alfie to even
greater heights  of bliss.  Try as  he could  to  hold  back the
moment  of release, when Ray  stepped up the pace of his
hard,  pumping  strokes,  he  let  out  a  groan,  feeling  his
come jet out to land on the bedcovers bedside him.

The sight of Alfie, head thrown back in ecstasy as he

surrendered to his orgasm, was clearly too much for Ray.
He came moments after, every bit as powerfully as Alfie,
before flopping on to his back, grinning with satisfaction.

Long moments passed when neither of them spoke.

Alfie felt as though he was floating back into his body
from a great height, slowly recovering all his faculties.

„So what am I going to do when you leave?‟ Ray said

as they cuddled together, making Alfie realise he hadn‟t
been able to deflect him from the conversation about their
future. „I really wish you didn‟t have to, you know.‟

„So do I,‟ Alfie admitted, „but I don‟t have a choice. I

have to go back to Boston, and you have to stay here.‟

„I don‟t know about that.‟ Ray propped himself up on

one elbow. „I‟ve been doing some serious thinking about
what I‟m going to do with the diner.‟

Alfie couldn‟t keep the shocked expression from

crossing his face. „But I thought you said you wouldn‟t
sell the place because no one would want to buy it?‟

„That was before it was on every news bulletin from

here to Lincoln, before hordes of tourists were queuing up
to eat there. The Paradise Diner is famous now, Alfie, like
it or not, and if I‟m not here to run it I‟m sure there‟s
someone else who‟d take it on.‟

„So where would you go?‟
„I don‟t know.‟ Ray‟s smile was sly. „The idea of

opening a little place in Boston sounds good, you know?‟

„But why?‟ Alfie‟s heart hammered in his chest at the

thought of Ray moving to be near him.

„Because when I was lying there with a bullet in my

leg, not knowing whether I was going to bleed to death on
the diner floor, I heard every word you said. How you
didn‟t want to lose me, how you loved me … And though
I couldn‟t say those words back at the time, I wanted to.
I‟ve wanted to every day since, but something kept
holding me back.‟

„It‟s all right,‟ Alfie reassured him. „You don‟t have to

say them.‟

„Look at me, Alfie. I couldn‟t admit to my old man that

I was gay until long after he was dead. I couldn‟t admit it
to anyone in town because I was scared of how they‟d
treat me if they knew. And now I can‟t tell you that I love

you like I‟ve never loved anyone else when you‟re lying
in my arms. What kind of man am I?‟

„The most wonderful man I‟ve ever met.‟ If this was

the time for laying cards on the table, Alfie was prepared
to be as honest as he could. Whatever it took to carve out
the best future he and Ray could have together. „And if
you only love me half as much as I love you, that‟s more
than good enough for me.‟

„Oh, Alfie.‟ Ray pulled him close, into the most secure

of embraces. „From the night you stumbled into the diner
I was worried I might be trying to fix you, and all the time
I was the one who needed fixing. Well, the truth is I love
you with all my heart, and I just don‟t care who knows it
any more …‟

Suddenly, the prospect of returning to college didn‟t

seem  so bad, not  when Ray was  intent  on joining him in
the  city,  making  some  kind  of  commitment  to  him.
Whatever  the  sign  at  the  city  limits  might  say,  paradise
was where  you found it. And Alfie knew in that moment
he couldn‟t have wished to find it anywhere but in Ray‟s
arms.

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