Spark & Stone - 1. Family-Friendly

Full summary:

The last thing fitness guru Heathcliff Stone needs is a babysitter, mainly because the one thing he hates more than his name - courtesy of his mom who, to this day, continues to be a Brontë obsessed reader - is for someone to try to control him.

When the most important company endorsing him sends over a preppy looking guy to keep him on a tight leash, his knee jerk reaction is to send the yuppie packing.

Yet, there is something that stops him from putting the figurative boot in the guy’s ass. Aidan Spark is exactly what the doctor ordered. Despite his stiff upper lip attitude, he’s cute as hell, with his big brown eyes, and a butt that should be in commercials for bubble gum.

So, Aidan wants him to be wholesome and suspend the string of hot encounters with equally hot guys, for the sake of selling protein shakes. Or, at least, pretend to. Well, the latter he can do. And in the meantime, he needs to find a way to get into the guy’s pants.

Chapter One - Family-Friendly

“Face it, Heathcliff. It’s a good deal.” Harry hurried to place the open folder under Heathcliff’s nose and then began patting his forehead with a pristine white handkerchief.

His agent was probably holding that close just because he sweated profusely regardless of weather and the conditioned air blasted through the hidden ceiling fans, he thought.

Heathcliff balanced the pen in his hand. Should he really sign? He had his freedom to consider. And what was with all this bullcrap about a ‘family-friendly image’? But the money was good, and he knew well that private lessons, no matter how overpriced, and social media followers, could not bring him where he wanted to be. His body, admired by millions, came with high maintenance. In other words, money.

So, yes, it was a good deal. He clicked the pen a few times, before writing down his name slowly, in calligraphic letters. Harry watched him from the side, perched on his toes, like a bald eagle waiting for a meal.

“Done.” Heathcliff slammed the pen flat on top of the document.

“And the NDA.” His agent hurried to push the pen away and fished another document from the bottom.

Heathcliff frowned. “What is this all about?” He asked, feeling irritated with the guy’s insistence.

“They want you to maintain a certain image ...” Harry trailed off.

“Family-friendly,” Heathcliff said, pursing his lips.

He took the piece of paper, trying to make sense of the legalese dancing on the page. There had to be a place in hell for lawyers or otherwise, divinity could not be possible.

“So, what do they want, exactly?” He demanded to know.

Heathcliff had an idea of what they wanted but he needed to hear it, loud and clear, from the man sweating through all his pores next to him. For the percentage Harry took with both grabby hands, Heathcliff felt no inclination to humor or pity him.

“Well?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Well,” Harry repeated after him, “it would serve if you, ahem, kept your ... um, encounters more out of the public eye?” he ended with a question mark.

Heathcliff shook his head. “So, do they have a problem with my sexuality?” He linked his fingers and placed his hands neatly in front of him.

After precisely two studied seconds, he turned to look Harry in the eye.

“No, no,” his agent waved both his plump hands, “not at all. Only that ... the notoriety ... also the nature of some, ahem, encounters of the kind ...”

“Come on, Harry,” Heathcliff smiled as he would have for a toothpaste ad, “this bad boy image draws followers by the ton.”

For this particular occasion, Heathcliff had opted for a more conservative looking suit, and he knew that his body looked good wearing anything. His short, blond beard had been trimmed to perfection. He had expected to meet someone from the company directly, but instead, his agent was playing the errand boy part. So, something had to give, and he wanted to know what.

“Yes, yes, that’s true.” Harry nodded enthusiastically. “But the company has a certain image to care for, as well. Come on, Heathcliff, you know you need this deal. This is how this business works. Your two million followers on social media mean nothing if you don’t monetize your fanbase. Everybody does it,” he said hurriedly.

Tell me about it, Heathcliff thought with an internal sigh. He was getting tired of marketing himself with no tangible results, except for a few celebrities willing to pay him a grand a day for the opportunity to train their over-tanned tushies to exhaustion. He was making good money, but not by far as much as he wanted to make.

The deal was good, indeed, and the sweaty piggy biding his time to rub his hands next to him was right, he thought for the umpteenth time since he had entered the room. Only that it came at a damn price.

“So am I supposed to keep from sex? Take a celibacy vow?” Heathcliff pressed the matter, partly because he wanted to see the other squirm a little more. “Live like a monk?”

“Oh, no.” Harry waved again. “But, you know, maybe if you kept your ... dealings a bit away from the tabloids’ spotlight ...”

“All right.” Heathcliff exhaled and rubbed his chin in thought. “Now, is there anything else in this NDA that I should know about?”

“Well, for starters, you should not tell anyone of its existence ... since it’s an NDA, after all. They would not like people to think that, ahem ...”

“They have something against a gay guy who’s not already married with children,” Heathcliff completed the stunted phrase his agent was trying to get out of his mouth.

“If you were, that would have made things a lot easier,” Harry joked, attempting a smile, and then deciding against it when Heathcliff set his piercing gaze on him.

Piercing blue eyes. A standard phrase tabloids loved to use when talking about him. Well, he hoped his eyes were piercing enough when he bored them into his helpless agent.

“Oh, so it’s okay to be gay as long as you’re a hetero-normative kind of gay.” Heathcliff enunciated every word, to make sure that the other understood the message.

“Well,” Harry shifted from one foot to the other, “I would not put it that way –”

“I would.” Heathcliff interrupted him. “You know, I have a feeling that all this gay marriage stuff is somewhat working against a gay way of life. You know, it’s not called the alternative lifestyle just because it sounds nice. It’s about freedom.” He began preaching, knowing well he was making the other uncomfortable like hell. “Freedom to have as many sex partners as you want without having imaginary regrets about not conforming to monogamy. Freedom to experiment. To live life to the fullest.” He opened his arms wide.

“I don’t disagree,” Harry hurried to say.

“I’m afraid that straight people agree with gay marriage just because they want to see us struggling to live by the same hypocritical and impossible standards that they have been carrying as a tight collar around their necks since the beginning of civilization,” he said, fighting a smile.

“Yes, I see ...” Harry began to fidget even more.

Heathcliff laughed and patted the man’s back. His agent sighed and relaxed a little.

“Come on, man, I’m just joking here. So, as long as I don’t make the tabloids’ headlines while selling these guys’ protein shakes, we’re good, right?”

“Yes.” His agent exhaled, suddenly relieved.

“All right, let me sign the damn NDA, and be done with it.” Heathcliff took the pen and scribbled down his name on the second document.

“Ah, wait,” Harry said. “There is something else.”

“What?” Heathcliff turned toward the man.

His irritation was starting to rear its head again.

“It’s in the NDA,” Harry said, somewhat reluctantly. “They will send someone to, ahem, assist you and keep an eye on you?” he added with a question mark and a purse of his lips, his head dipped into his shoulders, like he was waiting for something heavy to fall on his head.

“Keep an eye on me?” Heathcliff said slowly, adding the same question mark.

What could be the punishment for strangling his agent in a fit of annoyance? Harry was doing his best, but a babysitter?

“Yes,” Harry said apologetically. “Not all the time, mind you, and he will not interfere with your life, in general. But he will help you with photo shoots, ads, everything pertaining to campaigns and the like. Also, he’ll make sure that, ahem, the people you will choose to ... entertain won’t talk to tabloids.”

“What?!” Heathcliff frowned. “What the hell are these people? Gangsters? What the hell do you mean by that? Family-friendly my ass! What’s the name of that kind of family? The Sopranos?”

“No, no, no!” Harry hurried to appease him. “Nothing like that. He will just have your partners sign NDAs. No gangsters!” The man held his hands flat and upright to prove the solemnity of his words.

“Hmm.” Heathcliff’s eyes narrowed when he looked at the other. “Are you sure? Because if I see some Fat Tony knocking down my door just to check where my dick has been, we’re going to have a problem. Capisci?” he joked, unable to help himself.

Harry laughed this time. The man was way too tense. Maybe it was not a good idea to play with the guy’s blood pressure.

“Harry, you should look over the diet plan I sent you.” He pointed his finger at the guy.

“I did, I did,” Harry said quickly, averting his eyes.

Heathcliff sighed. He could understand the man. Keeping up with a diet and an exercise regimen wasn’t easy. That was why he chose to unwind by hooking up with the hottest guys he could get his hands on. Letting go of his only hobby was not precisely how he wanted to make a breach in the industry and start making real money.

He wasn’t a man all up for excess, but he liked his sexual encounters to be unrestricted, if he were to choose a term to describe them. Therefore, the idea of having some middle-aged straight man, most probably married for 12 years and with zero sex life, looking over his shoulder and shaking his head in disapproval was most unpalatable.

“I’m glad you signed, Heathcliff.” His agent chose to change the subject.

“Okay. But I will not give up on sex.” Heathcliff stared at Harry, keeping the signed documents under his palm, not allowing Harry to grab them just yet.

“No, no, that would be absurd,” the man said.

“Here you go then.” Heathcliff took the signed papers and handed them gallantly to his agent. “So when should I meet or expect this babysitter?”

“Oh, he will drop by your place sometime over the next few days if that is fine by you. I will give him your number so he can call you and announce his visit in advance.”

“Sure thing. Feel free to send him my schedule, too. This way, I think he’ll quickly find a way to bother me when I’m not supposed to be bothered,” he joked again.

“I will communicate him all the details,” Harry said. “Thank you for this, Heathcliff. We’re making headway, I’m telling you. Endorsements, deals, they’ll start to pour in now. So, you know, let’s just make it happen and keep these people happy.” The man put the signed documents into his suitcase.

Heathcliff smiled. “Of course.”

Well, it was a good deal, and that should have been enough incentive to keep his sexual trysts a bit away from the hot lights for now. After all, he was interested in getting pleasure out of them, and not publicity. Especially now, when that could count as bad and unwanted publicity.

***

Aidan Spark waited patiently as the phone rang. He already knew this was going to be difficult for more reasons than one. But, to begin with the obvious, the man wasn’t picking up.

Three times, four times, five times ... For lack of anything to do, he took a look at himself in the mirror. Squinting, he brushed some invisible lint off his lapel. With slow, meticulous moves, he straightened his tie and slicked back his hair a bit more. Appearance was crucial, and that was something Aidan knew well. Just the same as it was for the guy he was currently trying to contact.

It was the umpteenth time he was trying to reach Heathcliff Stone, without any success. He wondered whether the man was doing it on purpose. By all accounts, he seemed plenty active on his social media, so nothing should prevent the guy from picking up the phone.

Of course, he could try other channels than phoning the guy, but Aidan had been informed that he was to schedule the meeting in this manner, and he always did things by the book.

“Quite the insistent man you are,” the man finally answered without proper greeting.

“Hello, Mr. Stone,” Aidan said, using his usual professional tone. “I am Aidan Spark, with The Healthy Shakers.”

“You sound young,” the man interrupted him.

Aidan chose to ignore the rude statement. “I am calling to schedule our first meeting.”

What did being young have to do with anything? Aidan wanted to sigh, but he knew he had to keep his cool. Having to deal with the handsome, drool-worthy, sexy fitness guru Heathcliff Stone, was enough torment on its own.

“Come by, if you insist,” Heathcliff said. “I’m sure you know the address.”

“I would like to establish a day and an hour. Something that is convenient for you.”

“It’s Saturday. Come over.”

And just like that, the man cut the conversation, leaving Aidan to stare at the phone screen with a frown. Of course, Heathcliff Stone had to be an insufferable ass. Good looking people tended to be like that. It was no surprise that Heathcliff Stone was no exception to the rule.

What was he going to do? It was already two o’clock in the afternoon. A meeting over drinks was out of the question. Too early. Maybe just send a text with a dinner invitation? It was unlikely that a famous man like Heathcliff Stone wasn’t already booked.

It was unorthodox, but Aidan wasn’t about to let this guy weasel his way out of the deal he had struck with The Healthy Shakers. So he was going to pay the man a visit, and he was going to do it right away.

***

“Hey, that’s not exactly nice,” the man writhing under him teased, between one moan and one, very suggestive, roll of the eyes.

“Hmm?” Heathcliff said questioningly.

His date was worthy of walking down the catwalk. It was no wonder he wanted to make it into the fashion industry. His golden skin was flawless, and he had cheekbones that one could use to polish knives. Not to mention his amazing plump lips that Heathcliff had just earlier experienced wrapped around his cock. Driving himself over and over again inside that lithe body was going to yield results soon.

“Talking over the phone while we’re fucking?” The man pouted.

“He wasn’t going to let go if I didn’t pick up,” Heathcliff replied with a smile and pulled the guy close for a quick kiss on those luscious pouty lips.

“Who was that?”

“My new assistant,” Heathcliff said.

“And you just invited him over?”

“Aren’t you talking a little too much?” Heathcliff withdrew only to place the man on all fours.

The look from the back was amazing, too. He was going to use his contacts to see what he could do for the young model. What was his name again? Matt? Mitch? He had never been good with names. He needed to check his phone. Although he kept his occasional flings’ numbers in the phone memory for no longer than a few days, he was going to make an exception this time. He definitely wanted to meet this guy again.

While he appraised the slim arched back of his partner, his mind wandered to the voice over the phone. The guy had sounded young. So he wasn’t a middle-aged man, after all? Aidan Spark had sounded professional. Maybe he was just lucky enough to sound young.

Heathcliff was going to see the guy soon enough. After ignoring him on purpose all Friday, he wanted to put him to work, and have him on the move on Saturday. If the scumbags from The Healthy Shakers wished to make him dance to their tune, he was not going to make it easy for them. At least he could make Aidan Spark sweat a little.

“Ah, damn.” His partner moaned, and Heathcliff sped up.

It took them only a couple more minutes to come. Heathcliff was satisfied for now, but he definitely wanted seconds. The guy was a knockout between the sheets.

“Hey, I’m hitting the shower. Join me or shower later?” He asked the guy.

His partner just waved, clearly exhausted.

“Later.”

“Suit yourself.” Heathcliff shrugged.

***

Aidan pulled his car into the driveway, after checking the address a couple of times, to make sure he got it right. He climbed out of his car, took his briefcase and smoothed down a few imaginary wrinkles on his suit. When he deemed himself satisfactory, he walked to the door.

He pressed the button to ring the doorbell. There was no answer, so he pressed the button again, a bit annoyed.

“Come up,” a raspy voice finally answered, and he was finally buzzed in.

For his current status, Heathcliff Stone had a pretty nice looking house. Aidan took in the fancy, maybe a bit too square, design arrangements. His host was nowhere in sight.

His ear picked up something, and he blinked a couple of times, feeling intrigued. What were those sounds? Was someone in pain? Or …?

He could feel his cheeks warming up. Heathcliff Stone couldn’t be this uncouth. But, as his eyes traveled across the stairs leading to what was most probably the man’s open bedroom and den of pleasures, he was sure his hearing wasn’t playing tricks on him.

Sighing deeply, and making an effort to cool down a bit, he took the first step. After all, Aidan Spark was a professional, and Heathcliff Stone had to do a little better to impress him.

***

“Were you planning some threesome and you didn’t say?” His bed partner asked.

Heathcliff stared at the preppy looking guy at the top of the stairs. He could feel a grin coming up. Was that the babysitter? By all means, Aidan Spark couldn’t hold a candle to his current date, yet, as he looked at the guy, standing there, a small professional smile frozen on his lips, Heathcliff could only think that this was going to be a helluva lot fun.

Square down to a tee, Aidan looked taken out of some yuppie collection, spring-summer. His suit was neat, his light brown hair was slicked back, not one strand astray, and his warm eyes were examining his host inquisitively.

Holding the guy’s stare, Heathcliff placed an absent-minded peck on his bed partner’s ankle. Matt/Mitch was looking particularly good in that position, one leg hooked over Heathcliff’s broad shoulder, the other dropped and touching the floor.

Yet, right now, Heathcliff only had eyes on for his so-called babysitter. Yeah, the guy was cute. And, by the way he was standing there, obviously striving to keep from running away screaming, he was tickling him the right way.

So, a hand placed firmly on his partner’s hip, he began moving more amply. The babysitter seemed no less and no more disturbed.

Oh, the nerve, Heathcliff thought. Aidan Spark was checking his wristwatch with a small frown.

“Oh, yes, baby,” Heathcliff cooed, but he was still not looking at his partner.

“Hey.” Mitch/Matt slapped him over the chest, to draw his attention.

“Come here,” Heathcliff whispered seductively and pulled Matt/Mitch into a kiss.

Faking that he was closing his eyes, he continued to examine the newcomer through his dropped eyelashes. Matt ‘what was his name’ was moaning prettily while their lips and tongues were doing a sensual dance.

“Damn, fuck.” His partner dropped on his back as Heathcliff continued to fuck him harder and harder.

And Heathcliff locked eyes again with Aidan Spark, as he came into the rubber while fucking some guy whose name he was sure he was going to forget the moment the man was out the door, assuming he actually knew it in the first place.

“Hmm.” Heathcliff purred in satisfaction as he pulled out and removed the condom with expert moves. “What do you say?” He held the rubber so that his new guest could see the load he had just shot.

“It is commendable that you practice safe sex, Mr. Stone,” Aidan said in the same even, measured tone Heathcliff had heard over the phone.

Heathcliff wanted so much to mess with this guy. The fact that he looked like he was going to resist was just making things more exciting.

“Mr. Stone?” Matt/Mitch guffawed from the bed.

Heathcliff offered his hand to help the guy get up, and with a small playful smack on the man’s delicious rump, he pushed him in the direction of the bathroom.

“May I have your signature here?”

Heathcliff turned to look at his guest again. One moment out of sight, and Aidan was running amok, it seemed. Now he was taking some papers and a pen out of his briefcase. With practiced moves, he moved his case in the other hand and began walking toward Heathcliff’s partner.

“Please, if you don’t mind,” Aidan said charmingly.

Matt/Mitch looked over at Heathcliff, his mouth a bit slack.

“And what’s this supposed to mean?”

“It’s just something you must sign; it will be quick, I promise,” Aidan continued. “It’s just a confidentiality agreement.”

“Um, what?” The pretty boy who had just left Heathcliff’s bed was staring at the new guy, with an adorable expression of total confusion.

Ah, well, Matt/Mitch was a bit dumb, Heathcliff thought. But really beautiful, so it all evened out. There was, however, the question of what the new guest’s redeeming qualities were. Not that he wasn’t cute, but he had an attitude like his personality had been dry-cleaned along with his perfectly tailored clothes.

“It is just a formality,” Aidan said affably while placing the paper and the pen on the nightstand and gently manipulating the other guest to make him sign.

“What’s it for?” Matt/Mitch mumbled, but he was already taking the pen.

“As I said, a small formality. We just want to make sure that details of your encounter with Mr. Stone don’t attract the attention of the wrong kind of media.”

Heathcliff scoffed, amused, and walked to the bathroom to throw away the full condom, seeing that his babysitter was not at all interested in his conquests. By all means, the guy should have paid attention to him.

“All right,” the young man said and scribbled down his name.

“Thank you.” Aidan took the signed papers quickly and made them disappear into his briefcase.

The babysitter was young, all right, but he was behaving like a mother hen on a mission. Heathcliff felt his fingers itching, ready to tousle the man’s perfect slick hair, pull at his tie, and make him look disheveled and maybe, just maybe, a little less stiff.

“Let’s hit the shower, Mitch.” He pulled possessively at his recently out of bed partner, seeing how the two were looking at each other and smiling.

His babysitter was not supposed to get friendly with his date.

“Matt.” The soon to be fashion model grabbed his arm. “It’s Matt,” he insisted when Heathcliff looked at him with a frown.

“Right.” He flashed his signature grin at the guy, knowing that he would be forgiven. “I’m just teasing you.”

He planned on taking a long shower, to piss off his babysitter. Maybe even engage in a bit more naughty play, just to let Matt go with a long-lasting impression.

“I go first,” Matt said apologetically. “I need to be quick. I have to meet someone. Hey, do you know Reynolds? You know, from ...”

Heathcliff was just shaking and nodding his head automatically at the guy’s questions, all his attention grabbed by the other man in his home. Aidan Spark looked like he could not care less that he was interrupting. Ah, wait, he had invited the guy over.

He barely registered Matt leaving his side. His babysitter was standing, briefcase in hand, without moving. Aidan was looking at nothing in particular, his face schooled into a neutral expression. Heathcliff was wondering whether the man had some secret button he could push.

“So you were sent by The Healthy Shakers.”

“Yes,” came the prompt reply.

The man was averting his eyes.

“Well, you wanted to see me. How about being a little chattier than this?”

Heathcliff moved closer. He wanted to see those hazel eyes up close. A few very light freckles spread on the guy’s nose and the height of his cheeks. Definitely adorable. Not visible from afar, but if he got really close … the hazel eyes had speckles of green in them, too.

“Um, maybe we can talk once you ... put some clothes on, Mr. Stone?” The young man stole a quick glance at him.

Interesting. He was making Aidan nervous. Yet, just earlier, the guy had casually talked Matt into signing the damn confidentiality agreement, without batting an eyelash. Could it be that only Heathcliff’s naked body had that effect on the yuppie? Yeah, that was definitely interesting and worth exploring.

“I have no secrets,” Heathcliff joked, putting his hands up, just to prove his point.

“I’m afraid that is going to change,” the other replied.

“Oh.” Heathcliff smirked. “My family-friendly image, right?”

“Right,” Aidan said, and this time he looked straight into his host’s eyes.

Hmm, hot and cold. The guy was a bit of a puzzle. Or maybe he was faking it, Heathcliff thought. But who wasn’t?

“Hey, I’m going to hit the road.” Matt came back into the room, his hair damp from the shower.

The guy quickly picked up his clothes from the floor. In less than 30 seconds, he was back in his jeans and t-shirt in hand, he hurried to place a quick peck on Heathcliff’s cheek.

“Call me?” Matt said, with a small, fully-dimpled, smile.

“Sure,” Heathcliff replied.

His babysitter looked away as Heathcliff pulled Matt into a quick embrace and kissed him on the lips with an audible smack.

As soon as Matt was gone, Heathcliff decided that it was a good idea to follow the babysitter’s recommendation and put something on. He picked a pair of drawstring pants. While he dressed, he stole quick glances in the other’s direction, but it looked like Aidan was more interested in examining the design of the full-size mirror in the corner than in admiring his host, as he was supposed to.

“Here, I’m dressed. Happy now?” Heathcliff smiled.

Aidan pursed his lips while looking at him.

“Shall we proceed, then?”

“Let’s get downstairs.” Heathcliff gestured, and the guest took the hint to move immediately.

Heathcliff inhaled as the guy moved past him. Only a very faint scent of fresh smelling body lotion and shampoo. Something a bit too sweet, at least for a guy. No cologne.

“I can assure you I am on your side, Mr. Stone,” Aidan said while descending the stairs, with Heathcliff on his tail.

“Hmm, and what’s that supposed to mean?”

“There’s no need to sniff me to see if I’m friend or foe.”

Wow. Caught red-handed. So nothing went unnoticed by this guy, huh?

“I can assure you that it’s not why I … sniffed you.” Heathcliff chuckled.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really. I was actually checking for signs of arousal.”

A scoff was the only answer to that.

“Where can we sit? I don’t want to take up your Saturday, seeing what a busy man you are,” Aidan said instead of taking the bait.

“Oh, please, take up all of my time, if needed.” Heathcliff pointed his guest in the direction of the patio in the back. “As you can see, I freed my schedule for you.”

“Did you? I thought I was interrupting.”

“Nah, it’s nice to have an audience cheering at the finish line. Please, let me bring you something to drink.”

If Aidan felt affronted, he wasn’t showing it. With the same professionalism, he took out some papers from his briefcase and placed them on the rattan table. Heathcliff disappeared into the kitchen.

Whipping out the ingredients for a fortifying smoothie, he began preparing the drinks. Through the glass door, he took a bit more time to look at his guest.

Aidan Spark was cuteness incarnate in the shape and appearance of a yuppie. The way he was scrunching his nose – that cute freckled nose – was definitely not professional at all. He was obviously trying to rein in his emotions, but he was way too young to do that efficiently. Maybe fresh out of university? He couldn’t be older than 23-24.

He placed the two tall glasses on the table and took a seat across from his guest, hooking one leg over one arm of the chair and pulling the other under him.

“Are you trying to scare me here?” Heathcliff joked, as he gestured for the papers.

“No,” came the short reply. “Can you please tell me what this is?” The guy gestured at the green smoothie in front of him.

“A healthy drink, I can assure you. Wait, do you have any allergies? To coconut milk? Leafy greens, perhaps?” Heathcliff asked.

Aidan shook his head slowly but continued to look warily at the drink.

“No allergies. I would have liked a coffee, though,” Aidan said.

“I’m sorry. I don’t keep any such stimulants in the house,” Heathcliff replied promptly. “Give it a try.”

“I’m not sure …”

“Do you have something against smoothies or do you always insult your hosts like this?” Heathcliff decided to take the reins. “Come on. It will make you feel great.”

“Okay,” Aidan said reluctantly and put the straw in his mouth to sip at the drink.

The way the man’s lips wrapped around the straw was pure inspiration, Heathcliff thought.

“Wow, it’s a bit sweet!”

“Of course. I thought you would like something sweet. Only healthy stuff, though. Some berry mix and a touch of honey,” Heathcliff said with a smile.

“I thought all healthy drinks tasted like crap,” Aidan said in an apparent bout of honesty.

“And does your health-driven, family-friendly employer know that?” Heathcliff joked.

For a second, the guy looked fairly terrified.

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell on you.” Heathcliff dropped his voice low, and examined his guest with hooded eyes.

“Anyways,” Aidan said quickly, “let’s go over your schedule for next week, and see how we can accommodate the new obligations.”

“Ugh, you’re such a slave driver, aren’t you?” Heathcliff grinned.

“Excuse me?” Aidan looked at him, pursing his lips again.

“Did you just swallow a lemon? Because that look is not so good on you. It makes you look almost ten years older. You know, 25 or so.”

Aidan opened his mouth to say something but closed it without speaking. At least, he avoided pursing his lips again.

Aidan grimaced. “You’re insufferable.”

“Oh, really?” Heathcliff cooed.

Ah, so there was life in the cold fish, after all. It tickled Heathcliff in all the right places.

“Yes. Look, I’m not here to step on your toes. I’d appreciate if you didn’t step on mine, either. Mr. Stone,” Aidan added after a short pause.

“Why so formal? We’ll be in each other’s hair more than a married couple. Please, call me Heathcliff.”

“You’re so not a Heathcliff.” Aidan snorted.

So much fire, Heathcliff thought as he examined his guest with hooded eyes.

“And how should a Heathcliff be?” he asked, decided to play along and see where that would take him.

“Dark, brooding, handsome,” Aidan recited right away and looked at his host unabashedly.

“Seriously? Not even handsome?” Heathcliff feigned hurt.

“It gets leveled to the ground by your personality,” Aidan said right away.

Heathcliff began laughing.

“Okay, put me through the ordeal of scheduling my life.” He gestured for the guy to begin.

“Let’s see,” Aidan said. “Next week, we will have to do a photo shoot. At this point, we will just throw some ideas around, see what sticks.”

“Hmm.” Heathcliff decided to tease him a bit more. “Don’t you guys already have everything planned out? This doesn’t sound too professional.”

The yuppie opened his mouth, closed it, pursed, and then began to talk.

“We believe, at The Healthy Shakers, that the right way is the incremental way. You see, thinking up a solution and having it work from the get-go, is hardly realistic. But, by sequential increments …”

“Oh god.” Heathcliff groaned and rolled his eyes. “Save me the ‘our mission’ spiel, will you?”

Aidan Spark seemed a little taken aback by being interrupted like that. But, nonetheless, he didn’t let it drop.

“If you’re not interested in hearing the spiel, as you say, why are you questioning our methods?” he inquired.

Heathcliff liked a challenge. No, scratch that. He loved a challenge. And Aidan Spark looked like a good provider for that.

“Who’s ‘we’?” he asked, and leaned forward, looking around Aidan, like he was trying to identify some invisible companions.

“The company,” Aidan said, but his voice no longer seemed so sure.

Good. The guy wasn’t impossible to throw off balance. Heathcliff could feel a little happiness rising at the small victory.

“Okay. But I’m dealing with you,” Heathcliff pointed out. “Strangely enough, I haven’t met your boss or anyone representing the company.”

“I’m representing the company.” The young man tried to straighten in his chair, pulling at his suit jacket, seemingly hoping to arrange it into a defensive armor.

“You’re my babysitter,” Heathcliff said, shaking his head, and smiling. “I suppose neither of us is treated fairly, here, are we?”

Aidan frowned, squinted, looked away, and the corners of his lips dropped. All that made Heathcliff want to reach over the table and tousle the young man’s hair.

“Hey, drink your smoothie,” he said in a gentler tone. “It will make you feel better. And leave the schedule here. I’ll call you or drop a line if there’s anything in the way, okay?”

Aidan exhaled.

“Okay,” he murmured.

“All right, then I guess this meeting is over. I would not dream of taking up more of your Saturday,” Heathcliff said in a professional tone.

When they shook hands, Heathcliff kept the guy’s hand in his a little longer than necessary. Aidan Spark looked like he wanted to run away. Yet, in his beautiful eyes, there was something saying that he wanted to stay, too.

***

“Why am I doing this?” Aidan mumbled to himself as he dropped his head against the wheel, unwilling to climb out of his car and go home.

It wasn’t like he had a lot to do on Saturday. All his friends were currently engaged in the same project he was, which was climbing as high on the career ladder as they could while young, or else they were going to amount to nothing.

He could bet none of his friends were having the same problems he had right now, though.

Standing his ground in front of Heathcliff Stone had been no easy feat. The guy was a beast, no doubt. A sexy beast, of course. And the fact that Aidan was secretly jerking off to the dude in the little spare time he had at his disposal wasn’t helping. No, it definitely wasn’t.

TBC