Page 12 of Need to Know

“I heard him; he was shouting ‘Heil’ as he ran at you with a fucking knife.”

“He wasn’t saying Heil, the German word. He was calling Hale. H.A.L.E. That’s…my birth name, Nathan Hale. Linden’s my stage name,” he explained sheepishly.

“Oh, I never knew that. Is your real name common knowledge?”

“No, that’s what’s freaking me out. I changed my name twelve years ago after my dad died. I needed a clean slate, away from…well everything.”

“Then how did that guy know your real name and why did he want to injure you? Have you been getting death threats? Do you have another stalker?” Concerns tumbled into my brain. I recalled that five years ago Nate had been very public about his need to take legal action against a fan named Kat Shamalov, who was the daughter of a Russian oligarch. It was a big story in the press at the time. The young woman was adamant that she and Nate were destined to be together. The fact he’s gay and married was irrelevant to her. She’d shown up at premières in all kinds of disguises to try and get photographed beside him. She’d sent letters and used underwear to his home because she believed her intimate scent would awaken lustful feelings in her victim. She trailed him when he’d go for a jog in Central Park. She followed him to LA when he stayed at his Palisades home, and turned up at charity events, it was scary stuff.

Nate’s shoulders sagged. “No, I haven’t gotten any threats. I don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on. I can’t handle this. I just want to sleep for a year,” he sighed dejectedly.

“Fuck mate, take a load off, sit, eat, it’ll make you feel better,” I suggested. Nate seemed to shudder out of his fugue state. He eased down beside me on the grey velvet couch, and sighed again, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He stared at his cheeseburger.

“Jack, someone wanted to hurt me.”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry mate, he’s in jail, and you’ll be home tomorrow,” I pacified. I didn’t know what else to do to comfort him.

“Jack,” Nate said, a tremor in his voice. I swallowed my mouthful and turned to meet his cerulean eyes. I put the burger down, “Mate, you’ve got to eat someth—“ I didn’t get to finish my sentence because in a swift, seamless move, Nate slid his hand to cradle the nape of my neck and, oh, his skin on my skin lit me up like a firecracker. It felt like a world exploding touch, and before I could blink, he’d pulled me forward to crush his lips against mine. Yes, yes, yes. As if his mouth was a key, I opened for him and he sighed out a groan that sounded something like “Finally!” Nate tasted of minty toothpaste, and I was all burger and fries. He moaned appreciatively at my taste. My greasy fingers clasped his stubble rough cheeks as we ate at each other, the desire we’d both kept in check for a whole fucking year finally unleashed. He eased me back to lie on the soft velvet couch and then moved his bulk on top of me. I’d dreamed of this, longed for it. The planets had finally aligned, along with our bodies.

Nate and I had played out romantic clinches, smooching on the couch, the floor, in bed, on a beach, in a closet, and in a car, always choreographed, always surrounded by our film crew and intimacy co-ordinator. After filming hours of intimate scenes, less than ten minutes passed the edit and appeared in the movie. But alone, here and now, there was no one to stop us, no one preventing me from letting go, from groaning wantonly at how good Nate tasted, no one to stop me grabbing his muscled arse with both hands and pulling him in roughly to grind against my hardening length. Nate’s weigh on me was familiar, so god damn familiar. Nothing could stop us exploring each other’s mouths, faces, and throats with fevered nips, licks, and kisses. I was burning up from the inside as Nate ground his firm body against me like he was on a mission. He had a great cock, perfectly average in length, but good and thick. I wanted it in my mouth, and thrust into other places too. There was no one to stop us…no one…well, apart from me and my bloody annoying conscience. After a few exquisite minutes of grinding and devouring one another I put my hands to Nate’s chest and gently eased him up. We were both gasping for air, our lips puffy, pupils blown wide, lust drunk.

“Stop mate, stop,” I gasped overwhelmed by the power in our shared passion. That was the best kiss of my life, but this was madness. It was the wrong time, but, maybe with the right guy? Thinking with the brain not throbbing hotly at my groin, I decided that, right now, no matter how horny we both were, Nate was too vulnerable. He was still married, and even if his relationship was on the rocks, he’s not the kind of man who would break his marriage vows, they meant too much to him. Nate needed me more as a friend than as a lover. I’m not a revenge fuck, or a rebound guy. I wanted Nate, my god, how I wanted him, but if we slept together and Nate regretted it, our friendship could be damaged. I was sure that, soberly, neither of us wanted that.

“What…what was that for?” I asked, sprawled on the couch, thoroughly dazed by the maelstrom of our kiss. Nate sat up. He ran a hand through his mussed-up hair, and licked his lips like he wanted to consume that final taste of me. The sight of it went straight to my aching balls. He reached for the bottle of water and took a long swallow. Yes, that was a good choice. I sat up straightened my clothes and grabbed my water.

“It was a thank you…for saving my life…for always having my back,” he said. I’d never heard him so lust wrecked before.

“You’ve nothing to thank me for. And, let’s be honest babe, that wasn’t a friend thank you, was it?” We both remained silent for a stretched-out moment, lost in our own heads before Nate spoke.

“I’ve never told anyone this—” he began in a sullen, sexy rasp, “—but, in the eleven years I’ve known Erik, I’d say I’ve been drunk maybe…a handful of times—usually when we’re out together and he has expectations. It doesn’t matter what kind of day I’ve had; Erik expects and I’ve gotta step to it like a puppy. Sometimes we’re at one of those faux philanthropy galas; you know the kind, where the rich pretend they’re charitable. I don’t know anyone, and the people think they know me…as if I’m one of them. I’ve never been like them. Erik’s in his element with his elite friends and seems to forget I exist. I’m not a clingy partner; I do my best to support him with everything he does,” Nate rambled. I had no idea where this was going, but I was alert and listening.

“Do you know what Erik does when I’m a little tipsy, a bit out of it?” Nate asked rhetorically, “He’ll give me this look, like a disappointed high school principal. Then he’ll get one of his employees to put me in a cab and I just go along with it. The doorman for our building ensures I get into our penthouse safely. But Erik doesn’t come home with me, doesn’t look out for me, doesn’t check I got home safe, or ensure I’m not choking on my vomit. He shuts down and then ignores me…it goes on for days after. I’ve gotten drunk on purpose a time or two because I know it annoys the hell out of him and he’ll be gone for a while,” Nate admitted.

Wow, Nate and Erik’s relationship was way more fucked-up and toxic than I ever could have imagined.

“He’ll happily get shit-faced with his rich Russian bros, and fucking Oliver Roux, but I’m not allowed to do it,” Nate sighed. “I’m so angry with him. We waited for so fucking long, and fought so hard for the right to get married. But, no matter a person’s gender or their orientation, people are just…people. They’re messy and complicated. They lie, betray, disappoint…” Nate trailed off mournfully. I said nothing, giving Nate his space. A minute later he added,

“I’ve been holding on to a fantasy to save face. I guess I liked being the gay marriage poster boy a little too much.” He let out a deep groan. “What a fucking joke! It’s not as if I can even get it up for him anymore. No wonder he looked elsewhere.”

Oh boy, this was…dark, and way too much information. Nate deserved so much more than that lying piece of shit husband. I was a little shocked to hear him say that he couldn’t get hard for Erik anymore, because I’d felt the evidence of his prowess grinding against my thigh…Nate was certainly hard for me!

“I’m so sorry, mate. You’re dealing with a lot of shit and you must be stressed out,“ I consoled.

Nate held his hand up to silence me. “It’s okay Jack. I know, I know, I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he said with such a weight of sadness and shame in his tone that I wanted to shake him and tell him, No, no, no, don’t be ashamed, do it the fuck again. “I crossed a line. That wasn’t fair on you,” he continued. “I’ve been faithful to Erik for eleven years. I’ve always tried to do the right thing, the honest thing…it’s just…our mutual attraction took me by surprise. I…I wanted to kiss you for real, just one time…so I knew what it was like. I was selfish this one time. I took something for me, y’know.” Nate turned to me then and I blazed from head to toe when his eyes met mine.

“It wasn’t like kissing you on set;” he admitted, his cheeks flushed to an adorable rosy pink, “It was way hotter!”

Yes, it really was. And now that I’d tasted Nate’s true kiss and felt his beautiful hard cock grinding against mine instead of the prosthetic dongs we used on set, I didn’t know what to do with myself. His overwhelming kiss unleashed an effervescent rush of lust and longing in me. Was I supposed to forget the thrill of holding his firm backside as he urgently moved against me? Was I supposed to forget the taste of him, the sounds he made?

“I get it, okay,” I said softly, avoiding his eye contact, because looking into those soulful blue eyes while he was in pain would wreck me. “Please, don’t feel ashamed. I hope you got what you needed. It was a great kiss, the best. We’re all good,” I said keeping my voice calm and seemingly unaffected from being mown down by a hurricane of desire. I was an actor after all; playing pretend was my thing. Nate was off the hook; we were friends and would remain only friends.

Nate’s knee was jiggling nervously. I dared to reach out and squeeze his knee to still him. “I don’t know what to do Jack…about Erik,” he admitted pitifully. “A day ago, I thought I was married for the long haul, and now, I don’t know anything anymore.”

I thought for a long, ponderous moment before I said, “I suppose you have to ask yourself, are you the sort of person who can forgive him? Can you forgive all of the infidelity? Do you want to work on your marriage…and does he?”

Nate ran his fingers through his hair and let out a heavy sigh. “Hmmm, yeah, that’s food for thought,” he said wanly.

“And speaking of food, the burgers really good,” I added, plucking a chip and popping it into my mouth. “Eat something, and then I’ll help you pack. You’ve got to be at the airport by five.”