Betrayal - 1. Chapter 1

I'm not really a bad guy. You'll probably think that I am by the end of my story, but really, I'm not. I don't know if I can explain it. I can tell you that I love Christian. He had nothing to do with it. Those other men, that was just sex; with Christian it was always different.

Some people would say it's about power and control, but that's not the way it was with me. I had no power or control. I know that what I did was dangerous and stupid. I know that it was meaningless, but I had no power or control to stop it. Sex was my drug, and for me it was no different than a crystal addict looking for his next fix.

I suppose I knew that some day it would blow up in my face. I guess that I knew that the day would come when Christian would find out my secret; that I had this secret life. I just hoped it would be later rather than sooner. That I would get a few more weeks, months, years with him, because I really do love him. I know he will never believe me, but I do.

I met Christian seven years ago at a bookstore. Pretty corny place to pick up guys, but hey, I've pick them up in stranger places than that, believe me. I was in the GLBT section when I spotted him. He looked to be around nineteen or twenty, tall and lean; not too muscular, but not any flab either. He wore his dark hair longer back then. His hair is almost curly when it's long; I think that’s why he keeps it so short now, so he doesn’t have to fight the natural waves.

So there he was looking over the section of gay fiction and I saw him and melted. How was I to know what a ride he would take me on? Hell, I just thought we’d have hot sex and I'd never see him again. How was I to know he'd wrap my heart around his dick and I'd be chasing after him for the next seven years?

I walked up behind him. "Dennis Cooper's new one is good."

He gave me a glance over his shoulder, "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I didn't move, letting him feel the heat of my body behind him.

He reached out and pulled the book I suggested from the shelf. "Maybe I'll give it a try." He paused then turned to face me, "I'm Christian."

Like a cared what his name was. "Dylan," I said. I guess for some guys it makes it all seem less dirty, to know the name of the guy they’re going to fuck, for me it never mattered.

I could feel the charge in the air between us; he had to have noticed it too. "Follow me," I said and turned to lead him into the restroom.

"Wait," he said, touching my shoulder.

I turned back to him, arching an eyebrow.

"Let’s go have coffee or something first."

Now right there is where I should have known something was amiss. See, with any other guy I would have laughed and either walked away, or took hold of his arm and pulled him to me for a proper kiss. Then either he would have come with me in the washroom... pun intended, or I would have left him standing there wondering what he had missed.

But I didn't do either of those things. Instead we went to the coffee shop and talked. Had a conversation. We didn't even fuck that day; in fact it was almost a week before we finally did the nasty.

He has these damn eyes. They are so blue you'd swear they were glass, or maybe contacts, you know, the colored ones; but they're for real. Looking into those blue eyes framed in that mop of brown curls, well shit, I would have followed him anywhere.

So we drank our lattes and talked about our lives, books, music, boring stuff and finally he said he had to go and slipped me his phone number. "Call me if you're interested in getting to know me, but I don't do one nighters, so if that's all you want then you can toss this when I walk out the door." He smiled as he said it, but I knew he was totally serious; just like I knew that I would call him tomorrow and ask him to have dinner with me. Again, I should have realized what that meant, but I just looked at him and saw a challenge, one I wanted to conquer. I had no intention of seeing him once I'd fucked him, or so I told myself, but hey, we all tell ourselves little lies, right?

What Christian didn't know, and what he probably should have known, for his own good, is that as soon as he walked out the door I shoved his number in my pocket and went back over the GLBT section, picked up the cutest guy I saw there and fucked him senseless in the washroom. See I have no power over it. It controls me; my life revolves around where I will get my next fix, my next conquest, my next meaningless fuck.

Poor Christian, he should have taken one look at me and run.

"I really didn't think you would call," Christian confessed to me over sushi the following night.

"Yeah? Why's that?" I challenged.

"I don't know, you just seem like the hit and run type," he countered.

I shrugged, hating that he could read me so well. "Not always." Where did that come from? I am the hit and run type, why did I want him to believe otherwise?

"So tell me more about yourself," I said, wanting to get the subject off me.

"Well, I'm 24, just graduated from college and moved to the city to start a new job."

"As a software engineer?"

"Ah, so you were paying attention yesterday," he chuckled. "Now, it's your turn, tell me about you, Dylan."

"Well, I'm thirty-four and I’ve lived in the city all my life." I went on to tell him about my job in marketing and my life in general, carefully leaving out the part about habitually picking up strange men and fucking them into oblivion.

We had a great time together that evening. After dinner we went to the theatre and caught a movie. I expected him to come home with me that night and I have to admit I was a bit confused by his refusal, but also intrigued. I had never had to work for it, never had anyone I was willing to work to get. The whole experience was new to me.

Okay, now I sound like a total ass. Sure I had had boyfriends before, but nothing serious and no one since college. All that was just kid stuff. This was different, only I didn't realize it yet. I was still telling myself that once I had him in my bed that would be the end of it.

I drove him back to his apartment that night after he turned down my offer to come home with me. When I pulled up in front of his building he turned to me and said, "Dylan, I'm not going to invite you up. I hope you're not too disappointed. I really enjoyed tonight, and I," he paused, "I like you. I want to try to do this right. I don't want to fuck things up by falling into bed too quickly. Is that okay?"

I think that was when it happened, when he captured my heart completely. No one had ever said anything like that to me before. I mean sure there were guys that wanted to hook up again after we had had a good romp, but Christian was more interested in me than my dick.

My mouth suddenly went dry. "I... Um..." I stuttered. "Yeah, I guess that would be okay, you know, to wait."

He smiled at me then and leaned in, pressing his mouth to mine. It was our first kiss and I can still remember just how his lips felt, so soft and warm. Then he pulled away. "Call me," he whispered and was out of the car, walking up the path to his building.

I drove straight to the baths after leaving there and ended up fucking some tall dark haired beauty, or at least that’s how I remember it now. He might have been blond, or short, who knows, they all get jumbled together. One thing I do remember about that night, when I came, I closed my eyes and I saw Christian's face.

I spent the next week wining and dining Christian. We, or rather I, fell into a pattern. A typical day would be going to work, grabbing someone for a quickie at lunch, then going back to work for the afternoon. I would spend the evening with Christian, taking him out to eat, then to a movie, or a club. After I drove him back to his apartment where he would kiss me good night, I would head to the baths, or back to the club and grab the first cutie I could find. I’d pretend he was Christian while I let him blow me, or rammed my cock into his sweet little ass.

Don't get me wrong. I was enjoying the time I spent with Christian. We hit it off great; we had so much in common and never seemed to run out of things to say.

I have to admit that I had more 'encounters' than usual that week. I told myself it was all the pent up frustration over not having Christian in my bed, but we all know that an addict can rationalize anything when it comes to his addiction. I know I have an extremely active libido, but this was a bit much even for me.

I was almost surprised on our sixth date when I pulled up in front of Christian's apartment and he invited me in. I also realized that I wasn't too sure I wanted to go through with it. I mean, I really liked the guy, and what's more, he really liked me. Once we had sex, it was like he would know me, know my truth and then not like me anymore. Things had been so good between us; I didn't want to mess it up. Guys like him don't date guys like me, not if they know the truth about us.

Then Christian leaned over and kissed me. After that I got out of the car and followed him in. This had been what I had been working so hard for, after all.

We walked into his apartment and he closed the door behind us. I was suddenly nervous. Now that had to be a first; I can't ever remember being nervous before sex before. Maybe my very first time, I don't really don't remember that, but standing there with Christian, I was nervous.

He smiled so sweetly at me then, and took my hand, leading me into the bedroom. Once in there he pulled me to him and began kissing me as he took off my clothes. All my fears drained away and I was swept up in the moment.

We made love for hours that night. Another sign that things were amiss. My usual encounters would seldom last more than half an hour; wham, bam, thank you sir. With Christian I took my time, enjoying the feeling of his body responding to mine. We fell asleep that night in each other’s arms and when I awoke the next morning I watched him sleep. I almost didn't want him to open his eyes; to see me in the morning like this. I feared that in the daylight he would see the truth, that he would see me for what I was and tell me this had been a mistake. But when his blue eyes blinked sleepily at me I saw only trust in them.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey."

"Want some coffee?"

I chuckled, "Yeah."

I watched as he got out of bed and padded naked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where I could hear him turning on the coffee maker. A few moments later I heard water running from the bathroom. He stuck his head in the bedroom doorway. "Want to come share a shower with me?"

Once under the spray of the warm water, Christian began kissing me. Before I realized what I was doing I was on my knees sucking him off. Again the warning bells went off. You see, although I have never had any complaints, I am not usually too concerned with the other guys' pleasure. They are there to please me, for my enjoyment; but here I was on my knees in Christian's shower, listening to his moans as I brought him to a climax.

He pulled me to my feet, kissing me breathlessly. "My turn," he whispered before going down on me and making quick work of my dick.

"Mmm, you taste good," he said as he stood back up and kissed me.

Then Christian pulled back and looked at me. His blue eyes staring into mine as though they were searching for something.

"What?" I finally asked.

"You scare me," he whispered.

"I do? Why?"

"Because you're too good to be true. I keep waiting for the psycho killer to emerge."

I chuckled, damn he was good. "Well, I haven't killed anyone in ages," I tried to joke.

He smiled at me, then grew serious again. "You better not be fucking with me."

I leaned in and kissed him, "I'm not." And the thing is, I really wasn't. I realized that I had no intention of letting him get away; I realized that I wanted him in my life. That for the first time I wanted to give up all those other guys; for the first time I thought it might even be possible for me to be monogamous. For the first time in ages I had met someone that made me want to be a better person.

"Let’s go have some of that coffee."