The small procession began moving and it never failed to make everyone on the street stop and stare, wondering which DC dignitary was being carted around. The hotel was only a few miles away. David waited, resisting looking at his phone or messages since lately they were bleak. The car door was opened and Deon, looking irresistible in his Christian Dior silk suit and black tie, climbed in. Deon appeared overwhelmed and said, “I thought when you say you have a car pick me up…” “Yes, well. Welcome to my life.” “How you can live so big?” Deon sat back as the car began to move. “It’s not always like this. Between the announcement of my bid to run for president, and the latest tweets to derail it, my Chief of Staff is paranoid.” “Should he be?” David sighed. “Who knows.” “America with its guns…too many crazy people.” “I’m not sure it’s what he’s afraid of. To be honest I don’t know what’s going on at the moment.” “We just forget everything and share a drink.” Deon put his hand on David’s knee. David met his blue eyes. “Yes. Those are my thoughts exactly.” He put his hand on top of Deon’s. Deon smiled and leaned for a kiss, one David did not expect. It was a sweet peck, but lit David on fire. He squeezed Deon’s hand tightly. “You’ll be a hard man to resist, my friend.” “Who are we resisting for?” David looked out of the window as they drove to a fancy restaurant where they could eat privately. “I don’t know.” David stared out of the tinted window. He felt Deon try to get his attention. David shook off his thoughts of work and turned in the leather seat to meet his eyes. “You and I,” Deon began touching his own chest and indicating David, “We do not make commitment. No. We are free men. Am I correct?” “Yes.” “Then…” Deon struggled with the words as if trying to translate first in his head. “So, where is worry from? They can no say we cheat. I have no lover, you have divorce. They can say nothing about men with men. I am out comfortable, you are out comfortable.” David nodded, loving staring at Deon. But he appreciated Deon as a man of the world, an intellectual, not just a pretty face. “What can they do? Hm?” Deon shrugged. “Adults, consenting, and a world where things change in so many good ways. Men can marry men, women can marry women…Life is good.” David reached behind Deon’s neck and drew him to his mouth. The kiss was electric and Deon’s whimpers were so sexy David fought to control himself. When the car stopped, so did he. He sat back and caught his breath. Deon stared at him with what appeared to be both a mixture of sexual desire and surprise. “I think you are man of so many textures.” “You mean layers?” David chuckled. “I hope.” The back door was opened for them. “Yes. Layer. What does texture mean?” David touched the fabric of Deon’s suit jacket. Deon blushed. “My English. I try well, but not always succeed.” “You do succeed.” David gestured for Deon to exit the car. As he did, David got a good look at his ass, and knew getting this man into bed was going to take tact, patience, and complete trust. They were shown to a dimly lit restaurant and several secret service-type bodyguards, were communicating through ear pieces as the two men entered and were shown to a private dining area in back. They were seated by a host, and offered Champagne and cocktails. David asked, as he unbuttoned his jacket, and sat down on a curved bench seat beside Deon, “Should I order us a bottle of Champagne?” “No.” Deon sat comfortably on the sofa-like cushions and thanked the host for the menu. “Strangely, someone brought a bottle to my room.” “Oh?” David tried not to be jealous. “An admirer?” “Yes. So it seems. You must get many. Yes?” David tried to take the comment without a reaction. “That’s very flattering. What would you like?” “A martini, or red wine? Is all good. I am not a picky drinker. Eater, oui, but, as long as the alcohol is of good quality…” He winked. David gestured to a serving staff member who was waiting for their order. “I would like a dirty martini. Two?” David asked Deon. “Yes. Perfect.” Deon nodded. A waiter placed Deon’s napkin on his lap as water was poured from bottles. Deon looked around at the staff, awaiting orders, as well as David’s personnel. “This is what you call a private evening?” David spotted Deon’s appraisal of the situation, reading his thoughts before he spoke them. “I couldn’t agree more.” He craned his finger to one of his own men. The man leaned down. “Can you guys give us some space? This is ridiculous. If Eric has an issue with it, he can speak to me…tomorrow. If I see any of you lurking, I’ll ask you to wait outside.” “Yes, sir.” The young man appeared conflicted, and David knew Eric, his Chief of Staff most likely said, ‘you lose sight of this man and you’ll be fired’. But Eric was not the man in charge. He was. Once his own security cleared out, Deon appeared less preoccupied. “Are you hungry?” David asked. “Yes, actually. I am.” Deon read the menu. Their martinis were brought to the table, and once they were set down, the server said, “May I make a few suggestions?” Deon immediately lowered the menu to listen. As a few fresh selections were noted, David stared at Deon’s profile, already imagining them naked and playing, but men like Deon, and for the sake of his own reputation, had to move carefully. But it didn’t stop his imagination from taking wing.
