Chapter 2

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"Excuse me a minute," Brian said, getting up from his chair to make his way to the restroom. He was entertaining a client in one of Pittsburgh's nicest restaurants and the half bottle of wine he'd consumed was playing havoc with his bladder. Hoping to sign the account before the meal was over, he pushed open the door to the well-appointed bathroom and walked over to one of the urinals. Glancing to his side, he was surprised to see the blond from Pendleton's party the month before.

Justin's eyes registered similar surprise as they landed on Brian's. "Hey," he said with a small smile.

"Hey," Brian responded in kind. "Fancy meeting you here."

Justin dragged his eyes away to look straight ahead as he relieved himself. "Everyone has to eat," he said simply.

Brian smirked. "I'm surprised Prescott let's you out of his sight long enough to take a piss," he teased.

Justin blushed a bit and hastily zipped his dress pants. "Nice seeing you again," he murmured as he moved past the other man toward the sinks. By the time Brian finished and turned, the blond had already washed his hands and left the room.

"Yeah, you too," he muttered.

As he made his way back to the table where his client waited, Brian's hazel eyes casually scanned the restaurant looking for the blond. When he finally spotted him, he understood the man's reaction to his harmless teasing. He wasn't with Pendleton, but another man, older than Brian and fairly well to do if the clothes he wore were any indication. When he saw the older man reach across the table and take Justin's hand, he looked away, unsure why the innocent gesture had bothered him so much. As he reached his table, he pushed the blond from his mind and concentrated on the task at hand.

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During the next three weeks, it seemed as though Brian saw Justin Taylor everywhere. One night it was at Popagano's with a wealthy real estate magnate, and then it was at the Silver Pagoda with a lawyer Brian recognized as being with Pittsburgh's top firm. Upon seeing him with yet another older man at the bank where he dealt, Brian was starting to get pissed. The fucking kid seemed to get around more than Brian did. At the root of his annoyance was the fact that he couldn't seem to get the blond man out of his mind, even when he wasn't seeing him at every turn. Every time their eyes met, Brian could see that same spark of interest before Justin would quickly look away. It was an unusual feeling for Brian, knowing he wanted something and not having the opportunity to act on it. He realized one probably hinged on the other. He likely wanted the blond more because he hadn't had the opportunity to have him.

And Brian planned on solving that particular dilemma the first chance he got.

Fate seemed to be smiling on Brian when that chance presented itself on his own turf of all places. Until that time, he'd only seen Justin when out with clients or at stuffy business functions. It took him a moment to realize what he was seeing when the blond walked into Babylon a week or so after their last chance meeting.

He watched the younger man walk up to the bar and order a drink. While he'd always looked good in formal wear and dress clothes, the man was absolutely hot in a tight blue tee and jeans that molded themselves to his ample butt. He surveyed his prey from the other end of the bar, oblivious to whatever Mikey was whining about as he watched the object of his recent obsession slam back a couple of shots of tequila before turning to survey the dance floor.

Brian continued the discreet surveillance as the blond zeroed in on a hot dark-haired man on the dance floor and moved in for the kill, capturing the attention of not only his target, but most of the men within view. As Justin began to dance, he seemed to lose himself in the music and Brian watched, transfixed as he moved his hips enticingly to the seductive beat.

"So, what would you do, Brian?" Michael was asking. "Brian?"

Brian turned to his best friend and flashed his trademark smirk. "Hold that thought," he said before making his way through the throng on the dance floor.

Justin had his eyes closed when Brian reached the dancing couple. One glare and the would-be trick backed off without a word. Brian took his place, dancing with the oblivious blond man and slipping his arms around the trim waist.

"Mmm," Justin moaned as Brian pulled him closer, grinding their hardening dicks together.

When he threw his head back, Brian couldn't resist leaning in to taste the creamy skin at his neck.

"Backroom," Brian murmured in his ear.

Justin opened his eyes halfway to reply, then wide as he realized who he'd be replying to. "Brian?"

"In the flesh," Brian smirked. "And you're about to feel every inch." He took the young man by the wrist and started pulling him toward the backroom. Just before they entered the darkened hallway, Justin pulled back.

"No," he said quietly. "I don't want…"

Brian felt his anger building as the younger man's voice trailed off. "What?" he demanded quietly. "I'm not old enough? Not rich enough?"

A brief flash of pain registered in the blue eyes before he turned and pushed his way through the crowd toward the door.

"Good fucking riddance," Brian muttered under his breath. A moment later, he grabbed a hot looking man with dark hair and eyes and led his new, willing conquest into the backroom to work off the frustration.

As he pushed into the pliant body, he closed his eyes and immediately pictured the blond, much to his annoyance. In an effort to rid his mind of the elusive young man, he concentrated all his efforts on the one he was fucking.

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Cynthia was used to Brian's attitude, but he'd been even more difficult to get along with in the past two months. After snapping at her for the third time that morning, she decided to take a more direct approach. Knocking on his door, she waited for him to call her in before taking a deep breath and entering the lion's den.

"Well?" he asked impatiently.

"What the hell crawled up your ass and died?" she asked, getting straight to the point. "You've practically taken my head off three times in as many hours."

"You don't like the working conditions; you know where the door is."

"Fine," she snapped. "Good luck finding someone else to put up with your bullshit."

She stood her ground, knowing that both of their threats were empty ones. Finally, he sighed. "It's that fucking Justin Taylor," he muttered miserably.

"From the jewelry store launch?" she asked, confused.

Brian nodded, "And every other society function in this fucking town. Not to mention every restaurant I go into."

"You have a stalker?" she asked with a grin, taking a seat in front of his desk. "Do tell."

He glared at her. "He's not a fucking stalker. Every time I see him he's with a different guy. All of them older and all of them rich. He's a fucking spoiled rich brat who only dates men who can lavish the same kind of money on him that daddy does."

"He seemed nice enough," she said with a small shrug. As his words sunk in, she frowned. "You tried to date him?"

"You like your paycheck?" he shot back. "I don't fucking date; you know that."

"Then why does it bother you?" she asked, genuinely confused.

He thought about that for a moment and thought an honest answer was warranted. "I wanted to fuck him," he replied arrogantly.

"Ahhh," she nodded as understanding dawned. "He is hot, no doubt about that."

"And I haven't had him yet," Brian smirked. "Not a lot of hot men I can say that about in this city."

She shrugged. "So fuck him. What's the big deal?"

"Apparently he's too good for a backroom fuck," he sneered. "He thinks his ass is worth a $300 dollar meal first."

"So invite him out to dinner and then take him back to your place. Get it out of your system."

"Were you here for the 'I don't date' part of this little discussion?" he asked sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes. "All I know is, it's obviously making you even less charming than usual. Do what you have to do and get it over with. Either that or forget him."

Brian had already tried that. Forgetting him didn't seem to be a viable option, though he was sure that would change after he'd managed to snag the ass he'd become so obsessed with. "I'll get it over with," he replied absently. "And I'll do it without permanent damage to my credit card."

"Well, then," she said, getting to her feet. "I hope it works out ... and soon." With that, she turned and left the office.

Brian found himself hoping the same thing.

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As Brian donned his tux, he couldn't help thinking about the last time he'd worn it. It had been the first night he'd seen Justin and he hadn't been able to get the blond out of his head since. He'd been angry the night Justin had turned him down at Babylon and had tried to drown it in an endless parade of tricks through the backroom, but all he'd ended up doing was wearing himself out before heading back to the loft with the frustrating blond's memory still planted deep in his mind.

Since then, he'd resigned himself to the fact that it wasn't going away anytime soon. He was sure he'd get another chance and when he did, he planned on doing it right. By the time he was finished seducing the blond, the kid wouldn't know what hit him. He'd be begging for Brian's cock before the night was out and Brian would finally be able to put the whole frustrating mess behind him.

As he headed out the door of the loft, he hoped that time came sooner rather than later.

While he detested the formal functions, he never lost sight of the fact that many a useful contact had been made during just such occasions. He didn't really care how much money the senator raised for her campaign. All he knew was that Pittsburgh's most influential people would be there. A $5,000 donation was nothing compared to the millions he could make on one account alone.

He played the part of the rising young executive to the max, charming wives of potential clients and impressing their husbands with his knowledge of their business. Brian Kinney always did his homework, after all. By the time dinner was about to be served, he'd already lined up two meetings and had high hopes for at least three more. As he made his way toward his assigned seat at one of the tastefully decorated tables, he caught sight of familiar shock of blond hair. "Fuck," he muttered to himself. Justin was just entering the ballroom with yet another man, one Brian didn't recognize but who was obviously as wealthy as the others and just as old. Didn't the kid ever go out with anyone his own age?

"He gets around, doesn't he?"

Brian turned to see Marty Ryder standing beside him, also watching Justin with the other man. Turning back to where the blond was smiling up at his companion, Brian grumbled, "Fucking kid thinks the A-list is his own personal toy box."

Marty chuckled. "From what I've seen, maybe he's got it right. None of his toys seem to be complaining, though."

Brian watched the way the older man looked down at his young companion. No, he wasn't complaining a bit.