Climb to Top

"Climb To The Top" Copyright 1998 by Mathis B. Rogers

This is a Gay Adult Story. It was written by me in 1998. If you are not of age in your country, then it is against the law for you to read this story. This is pure fiction, and none of the characters or places are real. Any resemblance of such is purely coincidental. Any comments or constructive criticism is welcome. Send them via email to Mathis B. Rogers mathis@mathisbrogers.com

Climb to the Top

By

Mathis B. Rogers

Copyright 1998

"Look, Victor, I said I'm not going to do it and that's final. If they're not happy with what I've been doing for them, then you can get someone else."

"Calm down, Rex," Victor said. "I understand how you feel, but the public wants to see you do it."

Rex placed his large hands on the desk and leaned across it, bringing his handsome face within an inch of Victor's. "I said, no," he said, firmly. He straightened up and turned abruptly toward me. He stopped and looked at me for a moment. I melted under the gaze of those beautiful blue eyes. I was thankful that the fire that blazed in them wasn't directed towards me. At six-foot three-inches tall and two-hundred ten pounds of pure muscle, Rex Edwards was not someone you wanted mad at you. "Let's get out of here, Cliff," he said. He placed his hand on my shoulder, spun me around and pushed me toward the door.

The sky was overcast and there was a cold north wind blowing as Rex pushed the door open and we stepped out onto the side walk. "I'm so fucking pissed, Cliff," he said, opening the passenger door of his blue and silver Trans Am convertible for me. "I can't believe he asked me to do that."

I waited for him to get in the car and didn't say anything. "Shit," he said, starting the car, "it looks like it's going to snow."

"It's supposed to," I said. He pulled out into the street and glanced over at me. "You're awful quiet," he said. "You want me to do it, too, don't you?"

"No," I replied. "Of course not. Not without me anyway and you know I wouldn't do it either."

"Then what's wrong, Cliff?"

I sighed and looked out the window. Most of the leaves had already fallen off the trees. It had been a beautiful fall, but it was over. We were expecting our first snow that night. Rex pulled over and stopped. He placed his warm strong hand over mine and I looked down at it.

"Come on, honey," he said, tenderly. "What's wrong?"

I sighed and melted into those pools of blue. I couldn't hide anything from him and I couldn't lie to him. "Michael called this afternoon," I said, softly.

"That's normal," he said with a shrug. "He's your agent-slash-manager, it's his job."

"Some one leaked it to the press that I'm gay and my lover is a porn star," I replied, reluctantly.

"I ain't no fucking porn star," he replied, hotly.

"I know that, sweetheart," I said. "You're a model, but you do pose nude for magazines and other things."

"And now that Victor wants me to do the fuck-flick, it would it true if I did," he said.

"Yes, it would," I agreed.

He took a deep breath and looked out the window as a police car slowed to see if we were okay. We both smiled at the officer and waved. He drove on.

"Well, I know one thing, sweetheart," Rex said, gently rubbing my hand. "I am not going to fuck anyone but you and we're not going to do that in front of a camera."

I smiled and leaned over and kissed him. "Neither am I," I said. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Cliff," he said. He put the car in gear and we headed home.

"There's one more thing that Michael said that you need to know," I reluctantly added as he drove.

"What's that?"

"Michael scheduled a tour for me. I leave Friday. It's a three-state tour and I'll be gone for a month."

The flames that flickered in Rex's eyes blazed brighter as he stabbed the button that opened the gate to our three- bedroom brick home. "He thinks that if you stay here and I go on the road, the media will concentrate on the tour instead of my private life. Then when I get back we can try to keep a low profile and get back together."

"I see," he said as the gate closed behind us.

"Makes me wonder if Victor is the shit-head who leaked that little tid-bit of info to the press. He's known all along that I won't cheat on you. Maybe he thinks that if you have to leave me because of your career, then I'll do the fuck-flick for him."

"I hope he's not that shallow," I said, opening the car door.

"He'll do anything to turn a buck, babe," Rex said, unlocking the door. Even though he had parked in the garage and no one could get into the garage without the opener, we added to the security of the house by locking the garage door, just in case. I had too much musical equipment in one of the spare bedrooms to risk any one breaking in.

"I guess so," I replied as Rex punched in the security system code. "What are you going to do, babe?" he asked, handing me his black leather jacket.

I hung it up in the closet with mine. "I don't know. I've done concerts out of town before, but never have done a tour before. Part of me is excited, but the part of me that you hold in your heart doesn't want to go."

"I don't want you to go, either," he replied. "But I'm not going to stand in your way.

"Are you going to use Garland's bus again?"

I sat down in the living room on the plush blue-velvet couch and removed my shoes. Rex sat down next to me and pulled me into his arms. I rested my head on his strong chest and rubbed his leg. "Yes. He bought it for us."

"Good. I like that bus," he said. "However, I am going to go check it out, myself this time. We don't want it breaking down again. It didn't make it back from Chesterville last month and I had to come get you, remember?"

"I know, sweetheart. Gary checked it out last time before we left Chesterville. It was just the water pump. It wasn't that big of a deal. But I appreciated you bringing the water pump and getting me. We didn't have any other problems with it until then, either. I would appreciate you looking it over, though," I said, running my hand up his stomach to his chest.

"I'm sorry, hon," he said, softly. "I just don't want to be without you for a full month. It's bad enough when I have to go out on a shoot over a weekend and you can't come with me. But for a whole month?"

"I know. I agree. I wish you could come along and be my body guard or something," I said. "But Michael thinks we should try to keep the public from seeing us together as much as possible until the media cools down. Also, since there's a double in the bedroom that I'll use, we wouldn't be able to sleep together without the guys knowing it. I don't think you'd like sleeping in the bedroom with me sleeping on the couch in the living area, either. I know I wouldn't."

"No, I damn sure wouldn't like that. And you're right. It's just that I have to sit around with a boner for so long in front of the camera, that I'm ready to get you to release it by the time I get home. Shit, the other day Victor wanted a shot of me squirting and I had to jerk off for the camera. I couldn't even cum. Standing around in front of people all day has gotten so tedious that you're the only one who can make me cum any more. Luckily he doesn't want cum shots very often."

I unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and smiled. I never had any trouble making him cum for me. "You'd better not be letting anyone else try to get you to cum," I said.

"Don't worry, babe," he said, softly. "Benny offered to help me, but I wouldn't let him."

"Have you considered that maybe you need to stop posing for a while?"

His deep sexy chuckle echoed through the room. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? That way only you could see me nude."

I kissed him on the lips and smiled at him. "I love you. I don't care who sees you, as long as I am the only one who gets you."

He smiled and kissed me again. "Shit, honey, you're making me horny," he whispered.

"I can fix that," I said. I unbuttoned his shirt and ran my hands through the soft, thick black hair on his muscular chest and stomach.

"Mm, that feels good, babe," he whispered.

The phone rang the moment I unbuttoned his jeans. "Shit," he sighed. "Who could that be?"

I picked up the cordless that sat on the end table and looked at the Caller-id display on the handset. "Who else?" I punched the 'talk' button and said, "Yes, Michael?"

"What'd he say?" Michael asked, hopefully.

"As if he had a choice," I replied.

"I know, Cliff," Michael said. "I wouldn't even consider it if your career wasn't at stake. Look, you've got one album out. The only song we've released as a single on it, is number forty on the charts. Twenty new artists have come out in the past two months, you were number eighteen. Your competition is making it harder to push you than usual.

"I hate to say this, Cliff," he continued, "but the country music business still isn't ready for a gay guy. If they find out you're gay, we might as well pack it in. If you were doing pop or rock, we could probably get away with it, but not with country."

Michael had just reached through the phone and yanked my heart out of my chest. Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them back. "I see. So, since someone leaked it to the press that I am gay and have a porn star for a lover, then I might as well start packing," I said.

Michael took a deep breath. "Not yet, Cliff," he said, tenderly. "I did find out that it was a tabloid, not a real paper. I also got a copy of it. It's got a photo of you and Rex - Preston - going in the back door of the Plaza. But, besides wearing a pair of leather pants and leather vest and holding the door open for you, there's nothing to indicate that you are lovers or that you were doing anything out of the ordinary there. I think I can persuade everyone that he's just your body guard and you were going in the back door to avoid a crowd at the front.

"I will advise you, Cliff," he continued, "what ever you do, don't kiss him anywhere anyone can see you. If you can't see anyone, that doesn't mean they can't see you with a high-powered lens."

"Yes, sir," I replied. "I did kiss him in the car out on the street this afternoon."

"Oh, shit. And you don't know if anyone saw you or not, do you?"

"No. A police officer had just driven by, but we didn't see anyone else around. But I wasn't looking for anyone, either."

"What were you doing at the Plaza when this was taken?" he asked.

"Stallion Studios rents the penthouse there for photo shoots," I explained. "He would have been doing a shoot. Since he's got to stay boned for so long, I go with him occasionally to keep him up."

"You haven't done anything with him in front of a camera, have you?" he asked, worriedly.

"No. I don't touch him while I'm there and I stay out from in front of the cameras, too. I also keep my clothes on. I just make facial expressions that make him horny. I do kiss him on the lips occasionally, though."

"That's good. Have you ever gone there for any other reason?"

"Nope. They do have a nice restaurant, but we've never eaten there together."

"What time would this photo have been taken?"

"Probably around one," I replied.

"Good. You have eaten there for lunch, now," he said. "You and your body guard, Preston Townsen, had lunch at the Plaza that day."

"Okay. Sounds good to me," I replied. Preston Townsen was the stage name that Rex used. Victor was the only person at Stallion Studios who knew his real name, and, except when they were alone or with me, he always called him Preston.

I heard a page turn. "Uh oh. It looks like we do have another problem that might prevent me from getting away with that story," he said.

"What's that?"

"Here's another photo on the next page of you on stage. Next to it, there's a photo of Rex with his shirt off. He's got his back turned a little bit to the camera and there's a nice shot of his hip. It's pretty obvious by this photo he's not wearing anything at all. I've seen this photo in the portfolio you showed me. I've also seen it on the Internet. It's going to be difficult to fight this one, Cliff. However this still does not prove you're lovers. Just that your body guard is a male model."

I walked over to the patio doors and looked out into the back yard as it began to snow. "Would that be so bad?" I asked. "I could just fire him and get on with my life."

"True, but how would you explain it when you were seen in public with him later?" Michael asked. "'Cause I know that you're not going to give Rex up for this. You'd be stupid to, Cliff. You love each other too much for that. Even if your relationship were just physical, I'd probably say you would be stupid to give up that body, too. But I know there's more to your relationship than just sex."

"That's true," I agreed.

"But," he continued, slyly.

"But what?" I asked, nervously, when he paused.

"What if we did convince the public that he was just your body guard and not your lover, but we didn't deny that he was a former porn star? How many girls would show up at your concerts just to get a glimpse of him? Maybe even an autographed photo of him nude?"

"Well, if you're going to do that," I said, hoping that he was joking, "why not just forget me and he can do a show instead?"

"I didn't think you'd go for it," he admitted. "But the bright side would be that you could sleep with him nights and he could guard your body the way you need him to."

I glanced over at Rex and chuckled. I hadn't seen him go to the kitchen to get the beer he now sipped on. Stretched out on the couch, he watched me with a worried expression on his handsome face. I made a pass at him and blew him a kiss. He intercepted it and sent it back. "I like that idea," I said into the phone. "Let me talk to him and I'll see what he thinks we should do."

"Okay. Get back to me as soon as you can. I'm waiting for the editor of this rag to call me back. I need to have something to tell him before he does."

"Thanks, Mike," I said, softly. "I'm sorry this happened."

"Well, I'm surprised it hasn't happen before now, Clifford," he replied, using the name he knew I hated, since I had used the name he hated, "especially since we've got a few straight women singers out there who are more butch than you are."

"I love you too, Michael," I replied, sarcastically. "I'll talk to you later. And don't forget when you talk to the editor, his name is Preston Townsen, not Rex Edwards."

"I won't," he promised.

I sighed and pressed the 'off' button. I set the phone on the coffee table and lay down between Rex's legs on the couch. Placing my head on his warm hairy chest, I closed my eyes and listened to his strong heartbeat as I played with the soft hair on his chest and explained what Michael had said.

"Shit," he breathed when I finished. "I'd love more than anything to be your body guard and go with you, but there's no way that I'm going to take that chance. What if your band members talked to the press? If we slept together on the bus, it'd be difficult to keep them from knowing it. Right now none of them know we're lovers, do they?"

"Not that I know of," I replied. "You're hardly ever here when they come over to practice and I keep the bedroom door closed when they're here. That time you were on the bus, they enjoyed having you there and we didn't let on that we were anything but friends. I haven't told them I'm gay, either. I only told Michael because I went to college with him and he's known I'm gay all along. We've always been friends and I chose him for my agent because he is one." I didn't really want to have any secrets from Rex, but I hadn't told him that I had slept with Michael a few times in college.

"Well, babe," Rex said, rubbing my arm, "why don't you just tell him to tell the tabloid that I am your roommate and we are just friends? I have never done a fuck-flick before and I'm always alone in all the photos that Stallion Studios has shot. I'm even alone in the jerk-off video I made last month. I don't say anything to the camera that would make any viewer think I was talking to a man, either. Unless someone has seen us kissing or holding hands, no one has a leg to stand on."

"I know that, Rex," I said. "I'll see if Michael can get them to buy it."

Sighing, I watched Rex's Trans Am disappear around the corner. I took a deep breath and looked around. I thought I saw someone dart behind the corner of the building. It had been a week since Michael had called. The tabloid had printed a follow-up story, but there was no proof that anyone would buy the lie we had spread. We had said that we were just friends, who happened to be roommates. We had brought a camera crew in to show them where we lived. All of my things were moved into the guest room. By the time the crew got there, it looked as though I lived in that room.

There were only three more days before my band and I hit the road for our tri-state tour. We had received a foot of snow over the past week and since I didn't care for driving in the snow, Rex was driving me everywhere. We made sure never to touch when we were not in the privacy of our own home. We even made sure that we didn't open the curtains unless one of us wasn't home. We couldn't risk anyone seeing us kiss or hug each other.

Michael smiled at me when I walked into the studio. "This is going to be the last rehearsal," he said. "We'd better make it the best."

"Why?" I asked. "I thought we were going to get to practice tomorrow and Thursday, too."

"Come on, Cliff," Bryan, the guitarist said, "we've got some things to take care of if we're going to be on the road for a whole month."

"Yeah, we don't all have a roommate who's going to be staying at our house while we're gone, so we have to get some one to keep an eye on things for us," Tommy, the drummer said.

"And," Michael added, "we couldn't book the studio for the next two days, either. Another group had it booked before we knew we were going to do this."

"Well, okay," I reluctantly agreed. "Although we could meet at my place, but that's okay. We'll be fine."

I glanced over at Gary as he sat down in front of his keyboard. "How's the bus, Gary?" I asked. "Rex wants to check it out before we leave, if you don't mind."

"I haven't looked at it yet," he admitted. "I talked to Garland yesterday. He said he was going to take it to the shop to have the oil changed and everything done to it. I'll look at it tomorrow and you can have Rex check it out before we leave Friday."

"Thank you," I said.

Garland Daniels was our bus driver, but I had a feeling that what he knew about cars you could put on the head of a pin with lots of room left over and I knew less about them than he did.

I was thankful that Gary Jones, our keyboardist - since it wasn't just a piano he played - owned his own garage and, although he didn't work on buses, he did know his way around underneath the hood of a vehicle.

Tommy Walters, our drummer, was a lot more rock and roll than country, but he was Garland's cousin. He had talked Garland into buying the bus for us. Tommy wore his blond hair shaved along the edges above his ears and long in the back. He had threatened to do a pink and blue Mohawk once, but I told him he'd be out of a job if he did.

Bryan Perkins, our guitarist, was all country. I loved the way he filled out his tight jeans and he always wore a black cowboy hat and boots. If I had had the nerve, I would have tried hooking up with him when the band got together, but, since I was the reason they got to be a band, I didn't chance anything. I knew that without them, I wouldn't be number forty on the country charts. Actually, I wouldn't even be on the country charts without them.

"I know we've pretty well gotten the schedule made out," Tommy spoke up after we had been practicing for about an hour, "but I think it'd be cool if we started with "Moonbeams in Your Eyes" instead of "Silver Streaks."

"Of course you would, shit-head," Bryan teased. "You wrote it."

Tommy had been heartbroken when they had released "Silver Streaks" as a single instead of his "Moonbeams in Your Eyes." I had tried to convince him that since they had made his song the last one on the second side of the LP and the last cut of the CD, that everyone would finish the LP and CD and his song would stay on their minds. He didn't buy it. Of course, I didn't care which song was where, since I hadn't written any of them. I had, however, wanted to release "Touch the Moment" as the first single because it was my favorite song on the album.

Tommy had been the only member of the band who had written any of the songs. Michael had found other writers for the other songs we had used.

I picked up the sheet music for the last song we were going to rehearse and turned toward the booth. I could see Michael sitting next to the sound man, Charlie. Towering over Michael stood the man I was head over heels in love with. I had sang "Touch the Moment" to him several times, but never with anyone else around. Now was my chance, but I couldn't let anyone notice the way I looked at him. With Michael and Charlie looking at me, I couldn't sing it to Rex now, either.

The music began. I took a deep breath and waited for my cue. There was no need to read the paper in front of me, I knew it by heart, but with other people around, I had to make sure I didn't mess up. There were no second chances when you were standing in front of a crowd of three or four- hundred admiring fans who had paid six dollars a ticket to see you. If you screwed up once, they'd never pay to see you again, nor would they buy the album.

"Heartaches are gone now," I began when Tommy reached my cue. "Life has started anew, for me and for you..."

I tried not to look at the sheet music while I sang. I kept my eyes on Rex as much as I could with out making it obvious to Charlie that I was singing to Rex. I really wasn't worried about Michael noticing.

Coming to the end of the song, I looked through the glass into Rex's eyes and concluded, letting the love I had for him roll from my heart as I sang, "Love has wrapped us in its arms. Love has given us all it's lucky charms. The moment you find it you will know. You've got to reach out and touch it, reach out and grab it and don't let go. You've got to touch the moment. You've got to touch the moment." Bryan and Gary joined in for harmony as I repeated, "you've got to touch the moment," for the third and final time.

It was difficult to see much through the glass that separated us from the sound room, but I could see a glint of a big smile from Rex. "Oh, shit, Cliff," Charlie said through the microphone when the music stopped. "That's the best you've done so far with that song. Since I happened to be recording when you did that one, I think I'll see if I can persuade Michael here to let you release it as your second single off this album. We won't even have to re- record it."

"I'd like that," I replied as Bryan whooped, "All right!"

The band packed up their instruments and left, leaving Rex, Michael, Charlie and me in the sound room. "I appreciate you letting us use the sound room, Charlie," I said.

"My pleasure," Charlie said. "I'll send this tape out to have it pressed Monday if you'll let me."

"Go for it," Michael replied, giving me a 'you're in big trouble, buster', look.

"Thanks, Michael," I said, tenderly. Charlie stayed in the sound room and we headed out into the hallway to the front door.

Michael glanced at Rex and said, "Rex, Clifford and I have to talk about some of the things that are going to be happening in the next month. Why don't I take him to the office with me? I'll take him home, too."

"Well, okay, but I wish you had called me before I came over, I could have saved a trip."

"I'm sorry, Rex," he said. "I didn't think about it until just now."

"Oh, I thought I saw someone outside slip around the corner right after you left, Rex," I said. "Be careful going home."

"Okay, you be careful, too, Michael," Rex said. No one was in the hallway with us and there were no windows. No one could see us. Rex leaned over and kissed me on the lips. "I love you," he whispered. "Michael, if you want me to pick him up, just call me."

"Thanks, but I'll drop him off," Michael said. He didn't mention the kiss.

We rode in silence towards Michael's office building. A few blocks before we reached it, he swung the car to the left and cut through an alley. He just missed hitting a dumpster and pulling out in front of someone when he headed back east on the street he came out on.

"What are you doing?" I demanded as he cut down another alley and headed back west.

"We're being followed, it looks like," he said, turning into the parking lot of another office building. He circled the building and we headed south on another street.

"Good, we lost them," he said, looking in the rear-view mirror.

"Great," I said with a sigh. "What's to stop them from picking us back up at your office?" I wanted to know.

"We're going to my house," he replied.

Whoever had been following us either found us and stayed well hidden, or they didn't find us, because we didn't see anyone when Michael drove into the security gates at his apartment complex.

He parked in the covered garage and led me to the elevator that would take us to his fifth-floor apartment.

I sunk into the over-stuffed brown leather couch and slipped off my shoes. "Okay, Michael, what's going on?" I asked as he handed me a glass of Sprite.

He sat down on the coffee table in front of me. "I can't believe you sang that song to Rex with everyone there," he said.

"No one noticed but you and him," I replied. "I don't think you would have if you didn't know."

"That's not the point and you know it, Cliff," he replied. "It doesn't matter if anyone around can tell how you look at him or not. The boys in the band wouldn't know a queen if one walked up to them and kissed them on the lips, but out in the real world, they aren't as blind as the boys are. You have got to stop showing your emotions for Rex when you're in public or you're going to get read!"

I set my soda on a coaster on the end table and placed my hands on his thighs and leaned forward. Our faces were only an inch apart. "Are you sure you're not just jealous, Michael?" I asked, seductively.

He took a deep breath and leaned back. "Fuck yeah, I'm jealous, Cliff," he replied. "I'd love to have Rex's big dick up my ass every night. But that's beside the point. If you want to be a country singer, you've got to make sure no one finds out that you do get to have his dick up yours every night."

I leaned back, stunned. I was thinking Michael was jealous because Rex had me, not because I had Rex. In the two years that I had known Michael, he had never even mentioned wanting to be topped. He was BI-sexual with a heavy leaning toward straight. He had only screwed me twice and I had sucked him off a dozen times or so. I understood that because of his leaning toward straight that we could be nothing more than fuck-buddies. That's why we hadn't screwed around very much. I was not into one-night stands and I didn't care to have sex unless it was with someone I was deeply in love with, that was also in love with me.

I looked into Michael's brown eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry, Michael," I said. "I guess I don't have what it takes to make it as a star. I've been out of the closet since high school. I just don't see me going back in."

He nodded. "I understand that, sweetheart. My question is, how strong are you? Can you take what they're going to do to you when they find out?"

I looked down at my hands. I didn't want to answer that question. I had a feeling I knew what they would do to me and I didn't want that, either. "Okay, fine," I said with a sigh. I had been dreaming of being a singer since I was in the choir in high school. I had also been looking for the love that I had found in Rex, since high school. I had a choice to make. A choice I wasn't looking forward to.

I didn't say anything to Michael until I opened the car door and got out. "Thank you for bringing me home, Michael," I said. "I'll see you Friday morning. Are you coming on the bus with us?"

"No. I've got things to do here. I'll be at the concert in Portland Saturday night, though. I can't guarantee that I'll be in Melbourne for Tuesday night's concert, but I will make Thursday's gig in Terrence.

"Oh, and I hate to do this, Cliff," he said as I got out of the car, "but tell Rex he shouldn't attend any of the concerts. I know he might be able to stay out of the spot light, but it's too risky."

"Okay," I replied, sadly.

I closed the car door and went into the house. I closed the door and locked it. After hanging my coat in the closet, I took my shoes off and walked into the living room. Rex was sitting in the recliner watching TV. "Hi, honey," I said, softly.

I walked over and sat down in his lap. I kissed him on the lips, then lay my head on his shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you, too, babe," he said. "What's the matter?"

"Michael says I have a choice, I can be a star or your lover, but not both."

"I see," he said. He rubbed my arm, tenderly. "I love you, Cliff," he said. "I can't imagine going back to living without you, but I won't stand in your way of your dreams either. You've never once hinted that you didn't want me showing everyone my dick, so I'm not going to stop you from singing." Rex pushed me away and got up and walked over to the patio doors. "You go on your tour and I'll be moved out by the time you get back."

I sighed and got up. "No, you won't," I said. I took his hand and pulled him around to face me.

"I will go on this tour. When I get back we will be lovers. If the public finds out, then they find out," I reached up and brushed a stray hair off of Rex's forehead. "I will not hide in the closet, Rex. If you don't want me, then that is a different story." Rex placed his hand on my hip and pulled me closer to him. "I know that my sexuality isn't going to effect you as far as your work goes. I have thought this over," I said, placing my finger over his lips before he could protest. "I love you. You are more important to me than singing. If I can't have you, then singing isn't worth anything. If I can't sing for anyone else in this world, I can at least sing for you."

He smiled down at me. I was only five-foot-seven inches tall. Towering over me, he leaned down and kissed me on my lips. "You can sing for me any time you want to, sweetheart," he whispered. "I love you so much."

He leaned back a little and frowned. "Are you sure that you are willing to give up your singing career for me?"

"If I have to," I replied.

Rex wrapped his warm strong arms around me and we kissed. "I love you so much," he repeated. He picked me up and carried me into our bedroom.

Much to Michael's dismay, Rex dropped me off in front of his office Friday morning. Rex had gone to the garage to check out the bus the night before, so he wouldn't have to do it that morning. Everything appeared to be in working order.

We had somehow managed to get everything I needed for the month away, together, but we had spent every spare moment we had had the last two days, in bed. My ass was sore and Rex didn't think he would be able to get a boner again until I got back. Which was fine with me, but I knew he had to be at the penthouse at the Plaza Saturday morning for a photo shoot. I couldn't believe how many backdrops and poses they could come up with for him.

Even though I had told Rex what Michael had said about not showing up at any of the concerts, he did tell me he was going to show up at one of them, but he wouldn't tell me which one. He also said that he didn't know if we would be able to get together, so it'd be best if I didn't get my hopes up.

There were several reporters at the office when we arrived that morning, so Rex and I kept our distance, but we did act like "just friends" would. Michael scowled at me for bringing Rex, but he steered me toward the camera crew. I had rehearsed what I was to say.

"Hello, Mr. Richmond," an attractive lady said, holding the microphone at her side so what she said wasn't picked up by it. "I'm Candice Stevenson with KKRL, channel fifteen news. Do you mind doing a quick interview for us?"

I was surprised that she asked. I thought Michael had this all set up already. "Not at all," I replied, although I really did, but it was too late to turn back now.

"Thank you. I'll get us ready," she said and turned back to the camera. "This is Candice Stevenson reporting live from in front of Baldwin Agents and Managers office building," she said into the microphone. The red light on the camera was on. "Cliff Richmond, has joined me and he is getting ready to leave on his first tri-state tour. Mr. Richmond," she said, turning to me, "how do you feel about this tour?"

"Very excited," I replied, honestly, more to her than to the camera. "I am, however, as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs."

"I am sure," she replied, grinning.

"Now, Mr. Richmond, what do you think about the article that was put in the tabloid, 'The Weekly Reporter'? The one that suggested you are gay and that your lover is a porn star?"

I had not been briefed by Michael as to how to answer that question. She was not supposed to ask it. Instead of letting Michael whisk me away, since we were live, I smiled and replied, "I have been watching the news for several years now. I'm twenty-eight, so tabloids and TV have been around since before my time. I learned a long time ago, Ms. Stevenson, that if everyone believes everything that reporters like you and the tabloids report, that this world would be a lot worse off than it is. I am happy to report that Preston Townsen and I are friends and even though he likes to stand around in front of cameras without any clothes on, he's a real nice guy. He also gets paid big bucks to do it, so don't knock it until you've tried it.

"However," I continued before she could say anything, "don't bother looking for any pictures of me out there. I keep my clothes on when I'm in front of the camera. I also keep the curtains closed so peeping toms can't get any freebies.

"Now, if you will excuse me, Ms. Stevenson," I continued, again so that she couldn't get another word in, "I have a bus to catch. You can contact Michael here at Baldwin Agents and Managers to find out where we'll be on this tour. We will be looking forward to seeing you when we get to your town."

I smiled politely and turned to go. She thanked me as I walked off and continued talking to the camera. She did not get a chance to ask me the questions she was supposed to, but I had covered the important things and had made it obvious as to how any viewers could find out where we'd be. I thought I had side-stepped the gay issue pretty good, even if I did say so myself.

As Tommy and Garland got onto the bus, Rex gave me a manly hug and said, "Be careful, buddy. Keep your cell phone on and I'll call you every now and then."

"Okay. You be careful, too," I said. "And don't try to cook anything. I don't want to come home to a burned down house."

"Okay. I'll eat out," he promised.

I could tell he wanted to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss him, but the cameras were rolling. He had taken a chance on hugging me. He turned to Bryan and said, "I hope you have a good trip, Bryan."

"Thanks, Rex. We're excited about it, too."

"I bet." Glancing at a news camera, Rex gave Bryan the same manly hug he had given me and whispered, "You take care of Cliff for me, okay?"

"Be glad to," Bryan replied, grinning at me. "I wouldn't want the fans to attack him or anything."

"Maybe you should come along and be his body guard," Gary said. "Last time we were on a trip out of town, he had to call you to come get us when the water pump broke. We also had to fight off a bunch of girls in the parking lot last time, too."

"If memory serves," I said, "you and Bryan weren't doing much fighting off."

Bryan blushed. He had enjoyed that a little too much, I thought. "Well, maybe I'd better stay here," Rex said. "I've got some work to do next week and if something happens to the bus, I won't be able to help much if I can't go get parts. At least with me here, Cliff can call me and I can bring whatever you need. Like I did with the water pump."

"That did make it nice," Gary agreed.

Garland had the bus warmed up by the time we boarded. Michael followed me into my bedroom. Garland and Tommy would share one bedroom, which had bunk beds in it. Gary and Bryan would share the other bedroom, which also had bunk beds. My room was the same size theirs was, but it was a little more cramped since there was a double bed in it instead of the bunk beds. I had wanted to get bunk beds, but the bus was designed so that if the star were married, there would be room for the star's spouse. Of course, it was a moot-point because my spouse couldn't join me on the trip.

Across the hall from my room was the bathroom, which didn't have a tub, just a shower. At the back of the bus was a nice little kitchen which had a table and six chairs in the corner. At the front of the bus, across from Garland and Tommy's room and in front of the bathroom, was the living area. If we sat in the living area, we were able to talk to Garland while he drove, so he didn't feel left out. I had discovered that we usually hung out in the kitchen, though, while we were on the bus. He didn't seem to mind. There was plenty of room on the bus for six people to live comfortably for several days as long as they didn't mind sharing one bathroom.

We had used the bus several times in the past year, but we had never had to spend the night on it before. We always played within an hour or two from home so we were always home between midnight and two in the morning.

In the six months Rex and I had been together, Rex had only joined us on the bus once. He had hit it off pretty well with the guys. We had pretended to be 'just friends' and had not had any problems. The guys liked him. This had not been the first time that either Gary or Bryan had suggested he come along to be my body guard, but he had never taken them up on their offer except for that one time.

Michael closed my bedroom door as I started unpacking my suitcase into the little dresser in the corner. I glanced over at him as he lay down on my bed. "You did a good job side-swiping Candice's question. I'm proud of you," he said. "Now, why did you bring Rex?" he demanded. "Are you going to give up all this for him?"

I smiled and shook my head. "I don't think so," I replied. "I am not going to give him up so you can have him, that's for sure."

Michael rolled his eyes at me and sat up. "Honey, you don't think that I wanted you to stop seeing him so that I could have him, do you?"

I shrugged. "You'd never mentioned wanting to be topped before," I replied.

I put the last of my clothes up and leaned over with my face next to his. "And why do you keep calling me honey?"

He looked at my lips and licked his own. "I'm sorry, Cliff," he said. "I shouldn't be doing this. I just miss screwing around with you, that's all. But I am serious that your career could be in jeopardy if you come out."

"I understand that," I replied.

I placed my hand on his cheek. "I love you as a friend, Michael," I said. "You never wanted to go any further than fuck-buddies, so that's all we could be. And that's over now. I found a lover. I want to be your friend and your client, but if it's going to be a problem for you, then I'll find someone else."

He sighed. "No, it's not. I want to be your friend, too, Cliff," he said.

"Good." I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Now you'd better get off here or you're going to be in Portland before you know it. And the only place for you to sleep is out on the couch or in here with me and I'm not going to suck your dick because I'm only sucking Rex's now."

He stood up. "Okay, Cliff," he said. "I'll see you in Portland tomorrow night. Be sure to call me when you get there, or if you have any problems."

"I will," I promised.

He opened the door and I followed him out.

I hung onto the rail that separated the living area from the front door and watched Michael go into the building. Rex was sitting in his Trans Am. To my surprise, the media had not bothered him. Rex sat there for a moment while he watched the bus pull out. Where I stood, he couldn't see me.

"You okay?" Bryan asked, softly.

"Yeah," I replied. "I'm just not looking forward to being on the road for a whole month. I'm excited about the tour, but would like to be home every night."

"Yeah, that would be nice," he replied. "Come on, let's go see if we can entertain ourselves until we get to Portland. We should be there by morning. I'm surprised that Garland said he's going to drive all night. We ought to make him a pot of coffee."

"Good idea," I agreed.

I followed Bryan toward the kitchen. When we walked by Tommy and Garland's room, I was not surprised to see that Tommy had removed his shoes and was lying on the top bunk. He had his headphones on and we could hear his head-banger music blasting away at his ear drums. I was surprised he wasn't already deaf at the young age of twenty-four. He was playing imaginary drums and slinging his head back and forth. I shook my head and closed his door.

"Oh, good," Bryan said when he stepped into the kitchen. "Gary's already got coffee on."

"Yeah. Garland's going to need it and it looks like we're going to drive right into some snow," Gary said. He was already sitting at the table.

"Great," I said with a sigh. I sat down next to Gary and Bryan sat next to me.

"Well, Cliff, wanna practice some since it's been two days since you got any?" Gary asked.

"Only if you want to," I replied. "But didn't we pack the instruments in the luggage compartment?"

"I kept my standard guitar out," Bryan replied. "I figured you might want to practice or just sing some, since there's not going to be much else to do."

"Good idea," I agreed.

Bryan left the room. Gary leaned back and stretched, running his finger tips through the thick black hair on the sides of his head above his ears and yawned. "Shit, Cliff," he said, reaching down and grabbing his crotch and squeezing it through his tight, black jeans, "it's going to be a long hard month."

I couldn't believe he had done that in front of me. "Yeah, I know," I replied.

"At least you have a room to yourself so you can jerk off when you want to. I've got to share with Bryan and that shower wouldn't hold up for a good long slow jerk off.

"Since Tommy's sharing with Garland, he'll get to any time he wants to, too, since Garland will be driving while we sleep. Bryan and I are going to have it really bad."

I grinned. "I tell you what, Gary," I said, "I'll let you and Bryan take turns sleeping in my room when you're horny. I'll sleep in the bunk of the person sleeping in my room. Just make sure you don't mess up my sheets. We won't be able to wash but once a week, if that often and I damn sure don't want to sleep in your cum when it's my turn."

He returned my grin and leaned forward, letting his arm brush against mine. I wished then that it had been warm enough that we could have worn short-sleeved shirts. "You would do that, wouldn't you?" he asked, seriously.

"Of course," I replied, with a shrug. I had to keep from telling him that if I Rex wasn't my lover, I would be glad to help him and Bryan out all the time.

"Well," he said, leaning back again, "I guess we'd better not. I like to beat off every night when I go to bed, so that wouldn't work."

"Just sit on the toilet," I replied as the coffee pot gurgled, indicating it was through. "That's what I did when I was sharing a bedroom with my brother and didn't want to do it in the shower."

"Good idea," Gary said, getting up and crossing to the coffee maker. He poured himself a cup as Bryan came back in carrying his standard guitar.

"Mm, that smells good," Bryan said. "Let me get a cup of that, too, then we'll start practicing."

He lay his guitar on the table. The bus was designed so that we could hit small bumps or turn corners and the passengers would never know it. Because of this stabilizing system, we would be able to walk around while the bus was sitting still, masturbate, or actually fuck someone, without rocking the bus. We could even get on and off the bus without disrupting anything. The only way to jar it would be to run into something.

"I'll take a cup to Garland," I volunteered.

When I reached the front of the bus, I was surprised to see that we were driving into snow. "Are you going to be able to see well enough?" I asked, worriedly.

"Yeah. It's not that bad, yet," Garland replied, taking the cup I offered him. "The road's not slick either. I'll let you know if there's any problem."

"Okay. Be careful," I said. "We're going to practice some in the kitchen."

"Great. If your voice doesn't carry enough for me to hear you up here, I might turn on the intercom, but I really need to keep an ear to the radio."

"No problem. I think I'd rather you listen to the radio, too," I admitted.

"Thanks for the coffee. I'll buzz you if I need more."

"Okay." I returned to the kitchen. Bryan was strumming his guitar and Gary was humming along with him.

"It's snowing," I said, sitting back down.

"Great," Gary said with a sigh. "Is Garland okay with it?"

"So far," I replied.

We sang several of the songs we were going to play for the tour. Tommy wasn't needed since he played the drums but didn't sing background. "Of course this will all sound better when we have our equipment set up," Gary said, standing up.

"Yeah, it will," I agreed.

"I'll be right back, I gotta piss," Gary said.

"Hey, guys?" Garland's voice came over the intercom as Gary disappeared into the hallway.

"Yeah?" Bryan asked.

"We're in Clear Lake. Do you want to stop here for lunch, or keep going for a while?"

I looked at my watch. I couldn't believe it was noon already. We'd been on the road for four hours.

"Why don't we stop so Garland can have a break?" Bryan suggested.

"Good idea. I'm hungry, too," I admitted.

"So am I," Garland said.

"Okay, we'll stop," Bryan said.

I went down the hall and opened Tommy's door. There was no need to bother knocking, as loud as he played his music, he wouldn't hear me anyway. But the tape was turned off and he wasn't wearing the headphones. He sat at the little desk in his room writing in a spiral notebook. He jumped when I said, "You hungry?"

"Yeah, sure, dude," he replied. He put up his notebook.

"Whatcha writing?" I asked, hoping it was another song that we would be able to record.

"I figured that since this is our first tour," he said, standing up, "I'd keep a journal of it."

"That's a good idea," I agreed.

Garland pulled into the parking lot of a Mom and Pop restaurant. We walked in and found a table in the back of the room that was actually big enough for the five of us to sit at. I was thankful that even though several people eyed the bus as they walked by and looked around to see who might be on it when they entered the restaurant, no one came over to see who we were. I had been adamant about not having my name painted on the outside of the bus, even though Tommy had thought it would be "cool". Since I had not yet made a music video, no one seemed to recognize me. This, thankfully, could only mean the people in the restaurant with us hadn't read 'The Weekly Reporter' the last couple of weeks.

The waitress refilled my glass of iced-tea and smiled politely at me as our song, "Silver Streaks" was announced on the radio, which was playing softly in the back ground. "Oh, I love this song," she said. I smiled and bit my tongue to keep from saying, "thank you." Tommy beamed but didn't say anything either. "I just think it's awful that they're saying the singer is gay. I can't believe it."

"Have you ever seen him?" I asked as Tommy frowned at me. I noticed Gary and Bryan exchange worried looks, but they didn't say anything. Tommy apparently had not heard about this. I wasn't sure if the others had or not. Of course, he never listened to anything but his head-banger tapes, so he wouldn't know what the news was saying.

"I went to a concert he had in Chesterville a few months ago," she replied; I did not correct her that it had been only the month before. "I had to sit at the back and wasn't able to see him very well, but I'd know him if he walked in. I've got his CD and it's got a real good picture of him on it. Don't tell my boyfriend, but if Cliff walked in here, I'd jump his bones."

"What's your favorite song on the album?" I asked. I was thankful that she was so wrapped up in what she was talking about that she didn't recognize me. I definitely didn't want her jumping my bones. Of course, I was wearing a black cowboy hat in the photo on the album and they had doctored it up to look like I had a tan. Even Rex had said it didn't look much like me. He said that if he didn't know me, he wouldn't believe it was me either. "Well, I do love them all," she said, pouring more tea for Garland, "but I would have to say my favorite is 'Moonbeams in My Eyes.'"

Tommy beamed again but he kept his mouth shut. "Yeah, that is a good one," I agreed.

Another customer came in and she excused herself to go seat him. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Maybe we'd better get out of here," Gary suggested, softly.

"Not yet," I said. "She might get suspicious if we leave without finishing our meal. We'll just be careful not to talk about anything that might make something click and Garland can pay us out. We can wait until we get back on the bus to use the rest room."

"Good idea," Bryan agreed.

Since we didn't want Sharon to know who we were, we were limited as to what we could discuss, so we basically ate in silence. I caught Tommy looking at me a couple of times, but he always quickly diverted his eyes when I caught him. I was getting worried that he might cause trouble in the future.

After we finished eating, Garland went up to the cash register and the rest of us made our break for the bus. Michael had given Garland a business credit card so that he could pay for everything while we were on the road and the bills would go directly to Michael. This kept the band members and me from having to carry large amounts of cash or our own credit cards. However, Garland did have to turn in all the receipts when we returned from our trips and if there was anything on the receipts that Michael felt was not a business expense, he would take it out of the check of the person it was purchased for. So far, this had worked without any problems.

"Oh, I'll be right there, guys," Tommy said as we started out the door. "I want to get some gum."

It was snowing again so we rushed to the bus. We stomped the snow off our feet and I went to my room and hung up my heavy coat. By the time I got back into the living area, Bryan had taken his coat and shoes off and was sitting on the couch watching TV. The bus had a small satellite dish on the roof, but we hardly ever watched TV while we were on the bus. Since we were going to be on the road for a month, I figured we'd be watching it more frequently.

"It's not supposed to let up until in the morning," Bryan said. He had tuned in a national news network and they were giving the news. Since the dish was a satellite, we couldn't get The Weather Channel.

"Looks like it's going to stick with us all the way to Portland, too," Gary observed, sitting down in the recliner. I sat down next to Bryan on the couch.

"Maybe you'd better call for road conditions, Cliff," Bryan suggested.

The bus had a mobile phone and a CB Radio and I had my personal cellular phone with me, too. "Garland will be keeping in touch with truck drivers out on the road via the CB Radio," I replied. "There's really no need for us to call the highway department."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Gary agreed.

"Damn, it's too fucking cold out there," Tommy said as he climbed on board.

"I know it," Garland agreed. "I hope the roads are okay."

Tommy glanced at me as he walked through the living area to his room. I thought I caught a glimpse of something stuck underneath his coat, but he kept it hidden and closed the door to his room.

Garland removed his coat and hung it across the rail that separated the living area from the stairs off the bus. "You guys ready to go?" he asked.

"Whenever you are," I replied.

He sat down in the driver's seat and picked up the mic to the CB. After talking to a few truck drivers, he got up and went to the bathroom. All of the drivers he had spoken to said the road from Clear Lake to Stillwater was clear at the present time. It would take us six hours to get to Stillwater. From there we could get worried about the road into Portland. It was a nine-hour drive from Stillwater to Portland, but there was only one freeway to take. If we kept to the schedule that Garland had made out, we would arrive in Portland at three o'clock the next morning. Whether we could keep to this schedule or not, of course, depended on the road conditions and the channel we were watching said it was snowing in the entire tri-state area. Everywhere we were going to be playing.

After we got back on the road, Gary found an old movie on TV. We watched it but Tommy stayed in his room. Tommy and I had never gotten real close and since he was into rock and roll, he wasn't very close to Gary and Bryan either. The only reason he was our drummer, besides the fact he was an excellent drummer, was because he had gone to Baldwin Agents and Managers and hired Michael to be his agent. He wanted to be a drummer, but didn't have a band. Michael had already been hired by Gary and Bryan, who were friends from college, and I came along looking for a band so he put the four of us together. When we needed the bus, Tommy had come to the rescue with his cousin, Garland. Although Gary, Bryan, Garland and I got along quite well and had basically become friends, Tommy kept to himself most of the time. Occasionally he'd sit up front with Garland, but not very often. The most time we ever spent together was when we were working on the song he had written. I had hoped that me deciding to put his song on our album would bring us closer, but it hadn't.

"Do you realize that we're going to get back from this tour the day before Thanksgiving?" Bryan asked as the movie went off.

I sat up and stretched. "Now that you mention, it, yeah," I said. "I hadn't thought about it before now."

"You want to practice some, Cliff?" Gary asked.

"If you want to," I replied. "It might be a good idea."

"I'll get my standard," Bryan offered and went into their room to get the guitar.

"I'll get the coffee started," Gary volunteered. "We can play in the kitchen."

"You go ahead," I said, "I'll be right there. I want to see if Tommy wants to join us."

"Good idea," Bryan agreed. He and Gary went to the kitchen and I opened the door to Tommy's room. I expected he'd have his head-banger music going and wouldn't be able to hear me knock, so I didn't bother.

Tommy lay on the top bunk. He had scooted down to the end of the bed and his legs spread wide. He had placed his sock feet on the wall above the end of the bed. His shirt was unbuttoned and he was nude from the waist down, except for his white socks. He had his hard rod in his hand and was stroking it frantically. I had never seen any of the guys nude or without shirts on. Although I had always thought Tommy was boyishly cute, I never considered what he would look like nude. Of course I had fantasized about what Gary and Bryan looked like nude, but never Tommy or Garland.

Although it was difficult to see with his hand wrapped around it, I guessed he was about seven inches long and pretty thick. His slender body had a dusting of light blonde peach fuzz all over his chest and stomach and his legs, too. If I didn't know for a fact that he was twenty- four, I would have sworn he wasn't more than seventeen.

I could only stare at Tommy. His green eyes met mine. He closed his eyes just a little and, parting his mouth ever so slightly, he moaned and blasted a stream of white cream across his chest and stomach, which hit him in the chin.

"Sorry," I said, softly and closed the door.

"Is he going to join us?" Gary asked as I sat down at the table next to him.

"He's kind of busy," I replied. I was thankful he nor Bryan asked what Tommy was doing.

We practiced for some time before Tommy came into the room. He had changed shirts and had on a pair of jeans. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down across from me as though I hadn't caught him masturbating half an hour before.

The road remained passable and we made it to Stillwater on schedule. Garland pulled into a truck stop in Stillwater. "Anyone up for dinner?" he asked. We were all sitting in the living area watching the news. Tommy was sitting in his room with the door open, writing in his journal.

I wasn't in the mood to go into another restaurant, but I was getting hungry. It had been six hours since lunch. "I'm starving," Gary said.

"Me, too," Bryan said.

"Yeah, dude," Tommy said, grabbing his coat and coming out of the bedroom.

"Garland, would you mind just bringing me a club sandwich when you get done?" I asked. "I'm not in the mood to sit and worry about whether anyone's going to recognize me or not."

"Sure. Anything else?"

"No, that will be enough."

Bryan stepped into his bedroom and got Gary and his coats. Putting his on, Bryan said, "Maybe you ought to get off the bus, Cliff. You're going to be bouncing off the walls before the end of this trip if you stay on it."

"I'll be fine," I replied. "I might take a shower and get a nap so I can sit up and keep Garland company through the night." I didn't mention that I was hoping that Rex would call and wanted to be alone when he did.

After taking a quick shower, I had just crawled into bed and covered up when my bedroom door opened. I looked up. Tommy stood there with a sack in his hand. "I brought your dinner," he said, softly.

"Thanks," I said, sitting up in bed. I kept the sheet and blanket over my mid-section and he set the sack on the top of my dresser.

He pulled something out from under his coat and held it out for me to see. It was the first copy of "The Weekly Reporter". "This is true, isn't it?" he asked, softly. "You're gay and Rex is your lover, isn't he?"

I started to say no and explain the retraction interview, but he said, "I can tell. I can see the way you two look at each other when you think you're just being friends. I could tell by the way you watched me jerk off this afternoon. I know because my best friend was gay, too."

I thought Tommy was going to cry. "What do you mean, was?" I asked, timidly. I didn't want to hear that he had died of AIDS or something.

"When I found out that Billy was gay," he said, "I couldn't believe it. I said some things that I shouldn't have. I haven't heard from him since."

"I see," I said. "Are you willing to be friends with him again?"

"I don't think I could handle it," Tommy admitted. "I know he is in love with me."

"What is this going to do to our relationship?" I asked. "I'm not in love with you. You're not my type."

"But Rex is, right?"

I smiled. "Between you and me, yes. And so are Bryan and Gary."

"I thought so," he said. "I don't know yet," he added. "I won't quit or rag on you, that's for sure. I enjoy being in the band, even if it's not my kind of music."

"The only reason that I didn't knock this afternoon is because you usually have your head-banging music on and you can't hear anyone knock," I said.

"Actually," he said. "It kind of turned me on a little more to have someone watching me get off. It'd have been hotter if it had been a woman instead of you, though. No offense.

"Do you think that Rex might be able to get me in with Stallion Studios?" he asked. "I'd like to try it out."

"I can ask him," I offered. "But Michael will probably throw a fit."

"I'll worry about Mike. Thanks, dude. And I'll keep the door locked when I'm beatin' my meat from now on."

"Good idea. And don't ever let Michael hear you call him Mike, either. He'll call you Thomas."

Tommy grinned. "Yeah, he does.

"Well, I'll let you get some sleep and I'll talk to you later," he added, stepping out the door.

"Thanks again for bringing me dinner," I said.

"Anytime, dude," he said and closed the door.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I lay back down as my cellular phone rang. "Hello?" I asked, hopefully, as I answered it. Although I hoped it would be Rex, it could have been either of my parents or my brother. They all three had this number. Michael would have called me on the bus' mobile phone, but I didn't expect to hear from him. He would wait for my call when we reached Portland, unless something important came up.

"Hey, baby, how's it going?" Rex's deep sexy voice came through the ear piece, sending a warm tingling feeling through my body.

"All right, I guess," I replied. "Just missing you."

"I miss you too, sweetheart. Where are you?"

"Lying here naked in bed, wishing your big dick was up my ass."

"Mm, baby, you're going to make me horny talking like that," he said.

"I'm trying," I replied with a grin that I wished he could see.

"Hey," he said, worriedly, "you're not getting sick are you? It's only six-thirty. What are you doing in bed?"

"No. I just took a shower and laid down for a nap. We're in Stillwater at a truck stop. The guys are having dinner. Tommy just brought me a club sandwich. I thought I'd get a nap so I could stay up with Garland and keep him company through the night."

"That's sweet of you, babe," Rex said.

"I haven't gotten any sleep yet, since Tommy came in. I think I'll eat first."

"Tommy didn't see you nude, did he?" he asked. I could detect a hint of jealousy in his voice, one that actually surprised me. After all, he did pose nude for cameras, why should it bother him if one of my band members saw me nude?

"No. It's snowing pretty hard here now," I said, looking out the window over my bed. "I'm covered up. I did catch him jerking off earlier, though. I thought he'd have his head-banging music on his head phones and I was going to ask him if he wanted to join us to rehears some, even though his drums are packed. So I opened the door and he came a moment later."

"Oh, really? Maybe I should have gone with you," Rex said. "I don't want you getting horny over those guys. I know you wouldn't mind getting into Gary and Bryan's pants, but never thought you'd go for Tommy."

"He's got a nice dick," I admitted. "But don't worry, darling," I said before he could say anything about my comment. "I like my men with hairy chests. He doesn't have any fur."

"Great," he said with a sigh, "and Bryan has a hairy chest, too. Not only that, I told him to take good care of you."

"How do you know Bryan has a hairy chest?" I asked. Even though we had been together as a band for a year, I had not seen any of them without a shirt on before.

"The time I went with you on the bus," he replied, "you were in the bedroom changing after the show and he came out of his room with just his jeans on to go to the bathroom. I was sitting in the living room with Gary."

"Oh," I said. "Well, I wouldn't mind getting him," I admitted, "but you're all I need."

"I'm having faith in you, babe, that you won't give in and sleep with either Bryan or Gary," he said, and added, "or both."

"Don't be silly, sweetheart," I said. "You're the only man in this world for me and you know it."

"And you're the only one in this universe for me, babe," he said, tenderly.

"I love you so much, Rex," I said, softly. "I wish you were here."

"So do I, Cliff," he replied. "I guess we'd really better get off here before your battery runs down and you run out of minutes. Recharge your battery and I'll call you tomorrow night after the concert to see how it went."

"Okay. I love you," I said.

"I love you, too, babe."

"Oh, Rex?"

"Yeah?"

"Tommy wants to know if you'll help him get on at Stallion Studios. He also knows about us. He said he could tell by the way we look at each other that the tabloid article is true."

"Oh, no," Rex sighed.

"He said he wouldn't rag on us or quit, but would like to try out as a model."

"Tell him I'd be glad to take him in to get a portfolio made. That, unfortunately, is all the pull I'll have. His body and looks is what's going to make it work for him."

"Okay. Thanks, hon," I said. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

After plugging my cell phone into the charger, I put my robe on and closed the black-out drapes on the window above the bed. I opened the door and picked up the sack that Tommy had brought me. I carried it into the kitchen and was just pouring myself a glass of iced tea when the bus door opened and the others returned. I sat down at the table and began to eat as Garland put the bus in gear and we started off. I was surprised he didn't wait to check road conditions or use the rest room.

"Hey, Cliff," Bryan said, walking in from the hallway. He had taken his coat and shoes off.

"Hi. How was dinner?" I asked.

He poured himself a cup of coffee and put it in the microwave to heat it up. "Rotten," he replied.

"What happened? This sandwich is good."

"The food was great," he said, sitting down next to me at the table. He didn't have to explain what had happened. He reeked of cigarette smoke. I heard the water start in the shower as he added, "The place didn't have a non-smoking section. Gary's taking a shower now and I'm going to get one in when he's done. Garland wanted to take one, too, but, right before we left, some redneck truck driver came over to see who the 'rich dudes were that owned the cool bus.' Luckily, Tommy had already gotten your orders and come back on the bus, so he didn't get any of the second hand smoke and he wasn't there to hear the guy ask that question. However, the guy had seen Tommy leave earlier and made a comment about his long hair. Well, before we could tell him it was none of his fucking business, another guy smarted off that that 'long-hair' looked like the drummer for Cliff Richmond, the new country singer. And the bus looked like Richmond's bus. He had been in Clear Lake this morning and saw the interview of our departure on the morning news."

"Great," I said with a sigh.

"So, everyone wanted to come out to the bus to meet you. We high-tailed it out of there as fast as we could." He got up and opened the blinds over the sink. "Doesn't look like anyone's following us," he said. He closed the blinds and took his cup out of the microwave.

I was thankful that if the guy had said anything about the article or the comment the news reporter had made about me being gay, Bryan didn't mention it.

"You'd better put those clothes in a trash bag and tie them up," I said, "or they'll make all your other clothes and the whole bus, stink, too. Gary and Garland will need to do that, too."

"Yeah. You're right," Bryan agreed as Gary turned the water off in the shower.

Bryan sat back down. A moment later, the bathroom door opened. Gary stepped into the kitchen wearing only a towel around his muscular waist. Since I had not seen him without a shirt before, I was surprised at how muscular he was. His hard bronzed body was void of hair except for a small trail of black hair that ran from the base of his navel downward, disappearing underneath the towel. He held his clothes wadded up in his hand. "It's all yours, Bryan," he said.

I got up and got a large plastic trash bag out of the cabinet. "Here, Gary," I said. "Put those in here so they won't stink up the bus."

Gary stuffed his clothes into the bag. Bryan took off his shirt and put it into the bag, too. Rex had been right, Bryan did have a nice hairy chest. His brown hair was evenly dispersed over his muscular body. To my surprise, and delight, he removed his jeans and put them in the bag also. He stood before Gary and me in only his white cotton underwear, that didn't leave much to the imagination, and said, "There, we'll put Garland's clothes in there, too. Sunday morning after the concert, we can find a Laundromat and get them washed."

"Good idea," Gary agreed. He took the bag from me and carried it into his room. Bryan went into the bathroom and closed the door. I rinsed out the coffee pot and started making some fresh coffee, then I sat back down to finish eating.

A few minutes later, Gary returned. He had put on his robe.

"Mm, thanks for making coffee, Cliff," he said, sitting down in the chair Bryan had vacated. I always found it interesting that he and Bryan always sat next to me instead of across from me. Tommy and Garland would sit across from me.

"You're welcome," I replied and took a sip of tea.

"How's the sandwich?" Gary asked.

"It's great," I replied. "Bryan said it's a good thing I wasn't in the restaurant, but at least it's good they knew who I am."

"Yeah, that's true," he agreed.

I finished my sandwich and got up to put the paper bag in the trash can underneath the sink as the coffee pot gurgled, indicating it was ready. After taking a cup out of the cabinet, I filled it up for Gary and bumped into him as I turned around. It sloshed, but I managed to keep it from spilling or burning either of us. "I got this for you," I said.

"Oh, thanks. You didn't have to," he said, taking the cup from me.

"Well, I was up," I said, with a shrug. I looked up into his blue eyes and he smiled.

"Thanks," he said, tenderly.

I got another cup out of the cabinet and filled it up while he sat back down at the table. "I'll run this up to Garland," I said as Bryan turned off the water in the shower. "I'll be right back."

"Okay."

Darkness lay out before us. The headlights of the bus hardly lit up the dark pavement ahead. The windshield wipers fought frantically against the white flakes that smashed into it as the snow continued to fall. "Can you see okay?" I asked.

"Yeah. It's not too bad from here," Garland said.

"I got you some coffee. Bryan just got out of the shower. Do you want to pull over and take one, too?"

Garland took the cup I handed him and grinned up at me. "Are you saying I stink?" he teased.

"I haven't smelled of you yet," I retorted, "but Bryan and Gary did."

Garland took a sip of coffee and set the cup in the cup holder in the dash beside him. "There's a rest stop about half a mile up the road," he said. "I'll pull in there and get a quick shower."

"Okay," I said. "I'm going to stay up with you tonight. I was going to get a nap but didn't get a chance to. I think you'll need the company more than I'll need sleep, though."

"Well, now, Cliff, I don't mind you staying up and keeping me company, but you've got to get your rest for the show tomorrow night. If you get too tired, you're going to screw up your songs and that's not good."

"I'll be fine," I promised. "We'll get to Portland in the morning around three or four. I'll get plenty of sleep before we have to get the equipment unloaded and start rehearsing."

Garland pulled into the rest area and stopped close to the on-ramp on the other end. There were three trucks parked behind us, but we were out of their way if they decided to leave before we did.

"Okay, I'll get a shower and get us back on the road," he said, standing up. I stepped back and followed him down the hall.

Unlike Gary, Bryan and Tommy, Garland was heavy-set. He didn't workout like the others did, but he enjoyed his coffee and donuts. He was in his mid-thirties. His dishwater blond hair was curly and unruly, so he usually wore a baseball cap supporting the Houston Astro's, to keep it all in one place. I didn't consider him ugly at all, but he wasn't my type. He did have a nice smile and his blue eyes laughed most of the time. Even though he was only thirty-five, I felt he was molded from the original Santa Claus. Had he a beard and mustache, he would have been St. Nick.

Garland was the oldest of us. Tommy, was the youngest at twenty-four, Bryan was a healthy twenty-nine, Gary had just turned thirty and I was right in the middle of twenty- eight.

"We can put your clothes in a trash bag so they won't stink up the bus," I said.

"Good idea," he said. "I've got one."

He went into his and Tommy's room and I went back to the kitchen. Bryan sat at the table on the other side of where I had been sitting, sipping a cup of coffee. He, too, was wearing his robe.

"We stopped?" Bryan asked.

"Yeah. Garland wants to take a shower and get the smoke off."

"He'll feel better," Bryan said. "Did you get a nap?" he asked, leaning forward and letting his arm brush against mine as he stirred his coffee.

"No. I took a shower then Tommy brought my sandwich. Rex called before I ate. When I started eating you came back so I haven't had a chance."

"Don't let us keep you up, Cliff," Gary said.

I smiled at him as Tommy walked in the room. "Don't worry, you're not," I replied.

"Yo, dudes," Tommy said. "Is that fresh coffee I smell?"

"Yep," Gary replied.

I had to smile. If I didn't know better I'd think Tommy was on drugs. He had suggested that we do a community concert for 'A Drug Free America' a few months after we had gotten together. It had been the best thing for our career that we had done to date. I knew he was very intelligent and was a wonderful writer as well as drummer, but he insisted on wearing his yellow-blonde hair down to the middle of his back. I hadn't seen any tattoos on him, but wouldn't be surprised if he had one somewhere that I hadn't seen. I was also surprised that he didn't wear any earrings, or a nose ring, for that matter, and he hardly ever said anything without saying 'dude' or 'cool'. Even though Tommy was into rock, I was thankful that Michael had put us together. He was a fantastic drummer.

Tommy had on a pair of baggy faded blue jeans so low that I was afraid he'd trip over the legs of them, or they'd fall off. We could see the top of his white boxer shorts.

He straddled a chair across from me and sat down with his coffee cup. "Thanks, dude," he said to nobody in particular.

I assumed he was thanking the person who made the coffee, so I replied, "You're welcome."

He nodded.

"So what are we going to do the rest of the evening?" Gary wanted to know as Garland turned the water off in the shower.

I looked at the clock on the microwave. "It's almost eight o'clock," I said. "There might be a good movie on tonight."

Bryan leaned back in his chair, his leg brushed against mine under the table. My body tingled at his touch. I sat up in my chair a little and looked down at my tea, fighting the urge to rest my hand on his leg. "I'm not in the mood to watch TV," Bryan said, "but whatever you guys want to do."

"I've got some cards," Tommy said.

It surprised me that he was actually offering to do something that would require him to spend time with us. It must have surprised the others too, because they both said, in unison, "Okay."

Tommy hopped up and rushed down the hall to his room. I got up to get some more ice for my tea.

While Garland continued on the route to Portland in the driving snow, the four of us sat at the kitchen table playing black jack, spades, hearts and yes, even go-fish. After Gary had slaughtered us at every game except go-fish, which Tommy won the most games of, we declared Gary the card-playing champion and Bryan stretched and said, "Shit, it's ten o'clock. I'm beat. I think I'm going to hit the sack."

"Yeah, me too," Gary agreed. "Good night, guys."

"Good night," I said. "I'm going to stay up for a while with Garland, I'll see you in the morning."

"Don't stay up too long," Bryan said. "You've got to be fresh for the concert tomorrow night."

"Yes, Mother," I replied with a grin.

Bryan smiled and winked at me and went down the hall to his room. Tommy hung around a little nervously while I made a fresh pot of coffee. "Thanks for playing with us tonight, Tommy. I really enjoyed having you in here. I think the guys did, too."

"Any time, dude," he said. He glanced nervously at the door to the hall and whispered. "You haven't heard from Rex yet, have you?" We had been together all evening, so Tommy knew he hadn't called since we started playing cards.

"Yes. He called right after you brought my dinner," I replied. He had gone to his room to eat and listen to his head-banging music, so he hadn't heard my phone ring. "He said that he'd be happy to help you get a portfolio made."

"Cool," Tommy said with a big grin. "Thanks, dude."

"My pleasure," I replied.

"Good night, Cliff. I appreciate it," he said.

"Any time, dude," I replied. He grinned at me and went down the hall to his room.

When the coffee finished, I poured Garland a cup. I really didn't need any more tea, but I made myself another glass anyway. "Thanks, Cliff," Garland said, taking the cup I offered him. I took his old cup and set it on the floor next to the wall that separated the living room from the stairs off the bus.

"When did it stop snowing?" I asked, sitting down on the top step.

"About an hour ago. I don't think it stopped, we just ran out from under it. I just talked to a few truckers and the road is clear the rest of the way to Portland. It hasn't started snowing there, yet, but they're expecting it about an hour after we get there."

"Great," I replied. "I'm glad we'll beat it there. I hope it doesn't hinder anyone from coming to the concert. It'd be pretty bad if we were the only ones to show up for it."

"Really, huh?"

I turned with my back to the wall. I couldn't see out the window and the bus didn't have a window in the bottom of the door, so I could see nothing from where I sat. "I was surprised that Michael planned this tour so fast," Garland said. "It looks like he might have wanted to get us out of town or something."

I didn't want to lie to Garland, but I couldn't tell him the truth, either, so I said, "He actually did. He figured that since our single is only at forty on the charts, that it would be a good idea to get us out in the middle of the public. He figured if we did it before Thanksgiving, we might be able to get more sales for the day after Thanksgiving rush."

"And since we'll be getting home the day before Thanksgiving, that will put the cameras at the office when we get there and you'll still be fresh on everyone's mind," he added with a grin.

"Yeah. I hope it works," I admitted.

"I do, too. Actually, I figured it was to get you away from Rex. That little publicity stunt in 'The Weekly Reporter' wasn't something you needed right now, or ever for that matter."

I hadn't known that he knew about that. I worried that maybe Tommy had shown him the article, but didn't ask. "Yeah, I know," I admitted.

"You guys are really good, Cliff. I'm proud to be your driver."

"I'm proud to have you as our driver. And thanks again for getting the bus for us." That was a relief, I knew that he didn't mind.

"My pleasure," he said. "If it weren't for Tommy being my favorite cousin, I wouldn't have let him talk me into it. You may not know this about Tommy, Cliff," he said, "but as long as we're keeping each other's secrets here, please don't tell him because he doesn't know, but he was an unwanted accident."

"Oh, really?" I asked, surprised. I couldn't believe that his parents didn't want him, but he never did discuss them and I had only met them once.

"Yeah. Actually, he thinks that Tamra is his sister, but in fact, she's his real mother. She was fifteen when he was born, so her parents took him as theirs and have raised him as Tamra's brother instead of son."

"Oh, man, that's not good," I said.

"I started teaming up with him when he was little. At first it was because I felt sorry for him, but after I got to know him, I really fell in love with him. He's a great kid. I've actually become more of a father to him than his grandpa is."

"Where's his dad?" I asked.

"Who knows?" Garland replied with a shrug. "Tamra was fucking every guy in school, she doesn't even know who the father is."

"Poor guy," I said, softly.

"Yeah. He's always noticed a distance between him and his family and he's always suspected that it's because he is fifteen years younger than Tamra, Because of that, he does think he was an accident, but he hasn't really put his finger on the fact that he was unwanted. I've tried to keep him from finding that out, because, in my book, he's very wanted. I think that's why he keeps to himself with you guys, too. It's hard for him to socialize."

"I understand that. He did play cards with us this evening and we had a great time."

"That's good," he replied. "Maybe he's finally coming out of his shell. He'd better if we're going to survive being cooped up on this bus for a month."

"Yeah, it's going to be interesting," I agreed.

He laughed and I noticed he slowed down. "Why don't you go get to bed, Cliff?" he asked, pulling over to the edge of the road. "I've gotta take a dump and then get back on the road. I'll be fine here, you go get some sleep."

"Are you sure?" I asked, getting up.

"Yeah. I'll be fine. And remember, it's our secret."

"Yeah, sure. No problem."

I went to my room, closed the door and lay down. It was the first night in a long time that I wasn't going to be sleeping with Rex. The last weekend that he had been gone out of town for a photo shoot, had been over a month before and I hadn't slept at all that night. I didn't think I'd get any sleep this night either.

But I must have dozed off sometime, because the next thing I knew, I rolled over and looked at the digital travel alarm on the night stand. It was five o'clock in the morning. I had left my black-out drapes closed so the room was pitch black except for the red glow of the clock. I got up and slipped my robe on and stepped into the hallway. I could tell we weren't moving. I went to the bathroom, then went through the living room to the front of the bus. Garland had parked in the parking lot of the concert hall we would be playing at, underneath a street lamp. The bus was fairly well lit up. I had no idea what time we had arrived, but I figured it had been an hour or two. It appeared to have just started snowing.

The door to Garland and Tommy's room was closed. I stepped by Bryan and Gary's open door. They had left their black-out drapes open, but the blinds were closed. The glow from the street light came through and lit up the room well enough for me to see, but they couldn't see me where I was standing. If I had left my black-out drapes open, they could have.

I could see well enough to make out Bryan lying on the bottom bunk and Gary on the top bunk. Bryan rolled over onto his back. "Gary?" he whispered. "Gary, are you asleep?"

Bryan pushed the cover back a little. I could tell he was wearing a pair of white boxer shorts. As I watched, he pushed the top of them down and out popped his hard member. I almost gasped. I knew that he had to have a big dick. It was the same size as Rex's nine-inch rod. Bryan moaned softly as he began to slowly stroke his hard rod. After a few moments, Gary rolled over on his back and moaned. "Bryan, you jerking off or something, buddy? The bed's moving like you are."

"Yeah," Bryan replied, softly. "Sorry to wake you up." I noticed he didn't stop.

"I told Cliff earlier it was going to be a long hard month," Gary said.

"What'd he say?"

"He said that you and I could take turns using his room and he'd trade beds with whoever was jerking off in his."

Bryan chuckled. "Yeah, he'd do that, too, wouldn't he?"

"Yeah. He sure would."

"Gary?" Bryan asked, softly.

"Yeah?"

"You think that article in the rag is true about him and Rex?"

"Shit yeah. Can't you tell by the way they look at each other all the time?"

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Bryan admitted as Gary pushed his cover back. He wasn't wearing anything. His rod was about eight inches long and pretty thick. From where I stood, I could tell that the trail of black hair, ran from the base of his navel into his thick, soft, bush. He wrapped his hand around his hard rod and started stroking it, too.

I couldn't believe that I was standing there watching these two hunks jerk off. It took every muscle in my body to keep from going in there and helping them get off. Although I really wanted to join them, I had to restrain myself because Rex was waiting for me at home.

"Bryan?" Gary asked. They were still talking so softly that I had to strain to hear them.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Have you ever done it with a guy before?"

"Yeah, a few times in high school. The guy who taught me how to jerk off wanted to suck my cock once, so I let him. Then I sucked his to see what it was like. I didn't care too much for it at first, but after I got the hang of it, I found out that I'd rather have a guy suck my dick than a chick. You?"

"Nah. I haven't. Never even thought about it, really."

They stroked in silence for a few minutes, moaning occasionally.

"Bryan?" Gary asked again.

"Yeah?"

"Would you fuck Cliff?"

"Oh, yeah. If he wasn't doing Rex, I would. But Rex is a monster and I wouldn't want to be on his bad side. What about you? Would you fuck Cliff?"

"In a heartbeat," Gary replied to my surprise.

"Yeah, me, too," Bryan said.

"Oh, shit, I'm cumming," Gary gasped.

"Me, too," Bryan gasped, also. As I watched the two of them speed up, my own organ screamed for attention underneath the soft material of my robe.

"Oh, shit, I wish I could stick this up Cliff's tight little ass," Gary moaned as he blasted a stream of creamy white across his bronzed chest and stomach.

Bryan reached over and grabbed a sock he'd left laying beside the bed and gasped as he squirted his cream onto the sock. "Yeah, that'd be nice, buddy," he said. "But I really wonder how tight his ass would be. Have you seen those pictures of Rex? He's gotta be the same size I am and that's nine inches and five inches thick."

"Ouch," Gary cringed. "I'm surprised Cliff doesn't hobble around all the time, then. No, I haven't seen any pics of Rex."

"I got some off the Internet after the story came out," Bryan replied.

"Maybe Cliff's the top in their relationship," Gary suggested.

"I kinda doubt that," Bryan replied as Gary swung his feet off the edge of the bunk and hopped down. I dashed into my room and quickly closed the door as I heard Gary pass by on his way to the bathroom. I was thankful the doors were quiet.

I slipped my robe off and crawled into bed. I was surprised that even though I had just witnessed Gary and Bryan masturbating, and Tommy earlier that day, it was still Rex's handsome face that I saw as I slowly began to stroke my throbbing five-inch boner. However, I was so hot that it only took a couple of moments before I blasted my own load across my smooth, slender chest.

I grabbed a couple of facial tissues and cleaned up my mess, then I rolled over on my side and went to sleep, dreaming of the man who waited for me back at home.

"Mm, what smells so good?" Gary asked.

I turned around and smiled at up at him. He had dressed in a pair of jeans and a pull-over sweater. "Pancakes," I replied. "I thought it would be better to eat on the bus than try to find a restaurant close by. It's still snowing and I don't know what time we got here," I said, honestly.

"I guess that means you got some sleep last night," he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Yeah. Garland sent me to bed about midnight," I replied. "How many pancakes do you want?"

"Three, I guess," he replied as Bryan came into the kitchen.

"You know, I've been thinking," Gary said, handing Bryan a cup.

"Uh, oh, we're in trouble now," Bryan teased.

Gary ignored him and sat down at the table, leaving Bryan to pour his own cup of coffee. "Why don't we start off with 'Moonbeams in Your Eyes' tonight? It really would mean a lot to Tommy."

"All we'd have to do is switch it and 'Silver Streaks'," I agreed. "That sounds like a good idea to me." His comment made me wonder if he had over-heard what Garland had told me in confidence the night before, but we had spoken so softly that I couldn't see how he could have. Even though they had left the door open, Tommy's room was between their room and where we had been. If Tommy hadn't heard, they surely couldn't have.

"Have you called Michael yet?" Bryan wanted to know.

"Not yet. I was going to wait until after we ate. Give him time to get his first cup of coffee."

I made up about twenty-five pancakes and set them on the table and let everyone help themselves. Tommy came in a little later and joined us, but Garland was still asleep.

"Do we have to call someone to get in the building?" Tommy asked, pouring syrup on his four pancakes.

"Yeah. I'll do that after I talk to Michael," I replied.

To my surprise, Bryan and Gary volunteered to do the dishes while I called Michael and Mr. Dawson, the gentlemen who had the key to let us into the concert hall. It wouldn't take us more than ten minutes to unload the equipment and get it set up, but we did want to spend the afternoon rehearsing. Our performance was scheduled for seven o'clock that evening, but we had to get used to the acoustics and their sound system. We only had Tommy's drums, Gary's keyboard and Bryan's guitar. The keyboard and guitar shared two large speakers which our microphones also hooked up to, but those speakers weren't enough power to supply the entire concert hall. We had to hook up our sound system to theirs and sometimes that was a bit tricky. Luckily, this time, we didn't have any problems getting connected.

A little before noon, Garland came in. He had slept all morning. "It's snowing guys," he said. "I went to a burger joint to get you some lunch, you wanna get on the bus and eat, or eat in here?"

Mr. Dawson had left us alone a few hours before, so it was just the five of us. He had said that a security guard would be there after noon, since people would get wind of us being in town by then. So far, we hadn't been bothered. "Let's eat on the bus," I suggested. "We don't want to make a mess here, do we?"

"No," everyone agreed.

"What time did we get here, Garland?" I asked, before taking a bite of my cheese burger.

"About three-thirty, or so," he replied and took a bite of his burger.

"These are good, dude," Tommy said with his mouth full. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, dude," Garland replied grinning at his cousin. "Don't talk with your mouth full."

"Yes, sir," he replied, quietly and took a drink.

We spent the remainder of the meal mostly in silence so Tommy nor the rest of us would get in trouble for talking with our mouths full. However, Tommy did get a chance to tell Garland that we had switched the order we would sing "Moonbeams in Your Eyes" and "Silver Streaks." His boyishly cute face beamed and his green eyes sparkled as he looked at me.

"That's great," Garland said, frowning at me. "I'm just curious if it's a good idea though."

"Why not?" Tommy asked. His face clouded and he frowned at his cousin.

"Well, it's just that most of the first song that you guys ever sing isn't heard because you always come out on stage singing while the crowd is roaring. Half of the first song is over by the time they quiet down enough to hear the words."

I could see the hurt in Tommy's eyes but he knew it was true. I usually stayed off stage and they'd bring up the curtain, if there was one, and either Michael or someone from the concert hall, would introduce me. The crowd would go wild while the band started playing and I would start singing as I ran out onto the stage.

"I hadn't thought of that either," Gary admitted, softly.

"I have an idea," I said. "Since this place doesn't have a curtain, why don't we all come out on stage together when I'm introduced? You guys can start playing 'Moonbeams in Your Eyes' but I won't start singing until the crowd quiets down. Then I will introduce the song as having been written by our drummer, Tommy, and I hope they enjoy it, and you can start playing it from the beginning and I'll come in on cue."

Tommy looked hopefully from Garland to Bryan to Gary. "It should work," Gary agreed.

"Won't hurt to try," Garland said. "If it doesn't, you can do something else next stop."

"I don't see why it wouldn't work," I said.

"Thanks, Cliff," Tommy said. "I hope it does."

"So do I," Gary said.

"Thank you, Garland," I said, clearing the table when we were finished eating. "Did you have any problems getting to the burger joint?"

"No. It's across the street. I just walked over there."

The snow was still falling gently when we stepped off the bus and headed back toward the stage door. "If this keeps up," Bryan said, brushing against my arm as we walked, "everyone might be snowed out tonight."

"I hope not," I replied.

We spent the remainder of the afternoon rehearsing our entry and the songs we were going to sing. Garland was in the control room taking care of the lighting and making sure that we weren't getting any feedback from the sound system. When I turned toward my right to ask Bryan to start over on a song, I noticed Michael standing in the wings watching us. I didn't know how long he had been there, none of us had noticed him there before.

"Hi, Michael. Come on in," I said.

He smiled and shook his head. "You're doing fine, keep going."

I had the guys start over and sang it again, being sure to keep my eyes on where the audience would be sitting and not to keep them in one place long enough to lock eyes with any one in the audience.

When I finished I said, "Thanks guys. Let's take a break."

Michael met me out on stage as I walked toward him. "We've sold three hundred tickets, Cliff," he said.

"But?" I asked. I could hear something in his tone.

"It's still snowing. I was afraid I wasn't going to get a flight in. I did find out when I landed that if it doesn't stop by the time the concert is over, I'm going to be going on to Melbourne on the bus with you. If we can get out of town. Otherwise, we'll all be stuck here on the bus until it lets up."

"Oh, no," I said with a sigh.

"Well, don't worry about it right now, Cliff," Michael said. He leaned over and whispered, "I'll sleep on the couch if I have to stay."

"Thanks, Michael," I replied.

The snow did not let up all afternoon. We continued our rehearsal until five, then we headed out to the bus. The snow was ankle deep. Except for Garland and Michael, we all took a shower and sat around in our robes while we waited for the crowd to arrive. We were all too nervous to eat, but the guys drank coffee and I sipped my tea as we watched a news channel that was covering the local weather.

A few minutes before six, Garland got up and started the bus. It was getting cold and we needed to keep the battery charged to keep everything working.

At six-fifteen Mr. Dawson knocked on the door to let us know that the crowd was starting to arrive. We were surprised that it had finally stopped snowing. Michael left with Mr. Dawson to handle the publicity for the news crew that had shown up.

"Are you going to sit in the wings and watch, Garland?" Bryan asked.

"Yeah. The sound and lights are set up. They've got someone to watch them."

"I guess we'd better get dressed then," I said, getting up.

I went into my room to put on the outfit I had chosen to wear for this concert. It was a pair of tight blue-jeans and a blue denim shirt. I would be wearing the black cowboy hat. Actually, I noticed as I looked into the mirror to tie the black string tie, it was the same outfit I had worn on the album cover.

I almost bumped into Bryan as I stepped out of my room. He was just coming out of his. He ran his eyes approvingly over me and smiled. "Woa, look at you. Looking good there, Cliff."

"Thanks," I replied, returning his smile. He had on a pair of black jeans that fit him so snug that I doubted if he had put on any underwear. His large bulge was tucked down the left side of his leg. It would be considered a hard on for a normal person, but since I knew how big he was, I knew it wasn't. He also wore a black western shirt and the same type of tie I had on and a black felt hat.

I glanced over at Tommy's door, which was closed. "Bryan," I whispered, looking down at his cock, I had to strain to keep from rubbing his bulge as I asked, "are you wearing underwear?"

He grinned and I melted into his blue eyes. "No," he replied. "It looks good, doesn't it?"

I blushed and he put his arm on my shoulder and pushed me toward the door. "Let's get going," he said and Gary followed us toward the front of the bus.

Gary and Tommy were also dressed in black, but they didn't fill out their jeans as well as Bryan did. I had been surprised that Tommy had agreed to dress like Gary and Bryan, but he hadn't objected at all.

"Now remember," I said, nervously, "when Mr. Dawson introduces me, you follow me out."

"Yes, Cliff, we've been over it a million times," Bryan said, placing his hand on my shoulder. "Relax. We'll be fine."

I glanced out from behind the wall. The room was packed. It appeared that all three-hundred ticket-holders had shown up. I took a deep breath and waited. Mr. Dawson stood next to me and asked, "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," I admitted. I wiped my hands on my jeans and picked up my microphone.

He turned on the microphone he held in his hand. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said into the mic. "Welcome to Portland on this snowy night. Thank you for coming out. Now, the moment you've all been waiting for. Please put your hands together and make welcome," Mr. Dawson paused for a moment for the crowd to settle down a little bit, "Cliff Richmond!"

I dashed out onto the stage, turning the microphone on as I went. The crowd went wild. The guys, as I called the band members, were right behind me. As I waved and thanked everyone, Bryan picked up his guitar and slung the strap over his head. Tommy picked up his drumsticks and sat down at the drums and Gary sat down at his keyboard. I had always wanted them to come up with a name, but they had always just wanted to be called the Cliff Richmond band.

I gave the cue and the band started playing. "Thank you," I said into the microphone. "We really are grateful for you getting out in the cold tonight. We're going to do something a little different tonight," I said and the crowd grew quiet. "First of all, I'd like to introduce the band." I turned to look at Bryan. He didn't stop playing. "On guitar, we have Bryan Perkins. And yes, girls, he's single and available."

Bryan blushed and paused to wave as the crowd cheered.

"On keyboard," I continued, turning to Gary, "we have Gary Jones. And he's single and available, too." The crowd cheered and Gary waved, but didn't stand up.

"And last, but defiantly not least, we have Tommy Walters on drums."

Tommy stood up and bowed. "I'm available, too, girls," he said into his microphone.

"I wouldn't have left you out, Tommy," I said.

"The first song we're going to do tonight is one that Tommy wrote for our first album. It's called, 'Moonbeams in Your Eyes'. We hope you enjoy it as much as we do."

The guys started over on the song and I waited for my cue from Gary. I knew that Rex wouldn't be there, so I didn't look for him as I scanned the audience. Not letting my eyes rest on any face, but appearing to sing to each person I looked at, I let the song roll from my lips.

The crowd was mesmerized during the song. I knew Tommy was beaming from ear to ear, but I didn't have a moment to glance back at him. When the song ended, they cheered louder than I'd ever heard an audience cheer. I prompted Tommy to stand up and take a bow and he continued to beam even after he had sat back down and began the next song.

During the next song, I noticed a guy sitting in the front row fidget when I let my eyes breeze over him. I didn't want to mess up, so I continued with the song. I glanced at him again later and he scowled at me. I was starting to get nervous, but couldn't let on.

After the fourth song, I held my hand up for the guys to play for a second and I dashed over to where Michael stood in the wings. I turned the mic off and, with my back to the audience, said, "Michael, don't let him see you look, but there's a guy in the front row wearing a red shirt. He's got blonde hair and a mustache. Keep an eye on him. I think he might cause trouble."

Michael handed me a glass of ice water, which I gulped down, since I had to have a good excuse to be over there, without the man in the red shirt knowing I was ratting on him. "Okay. We'll watch him," he promised.

I didn't know why, but I had a feeling that Michael should have had security escort him out. Ignoring my intuition, I returned to the stage and made sure not to even look in the guys direction for the next two sets. I was thankful that there were several security guards hanging around in the wings and close to the front of the stage. Until now, security had never been an issue as far as I was concerned. Of course, every time we held a concert there were ample security guards, supplied by a company in the places we played, and hired by Michael.

Since Bryan and Gary were good singers, I had picked out a special song for this trip that let them join me in a trio. In this song, I sang first tenor and Bryan and Gary traded off between bass, baritone bass and harmony with their deep, sexy voices. I turned around and stepped back so that I would be standing between them, for the song. They weren't playing at the moment and the crowd had just calmed down a bit after our last song. The guy in the red shirt stood up and held something up. "Hey, everyone!" he shouted. His voice was deep enough that it carried well through the concert hall. Michael nodded to a security guard who started toward the guy. "I've got a photo here of Cliff kissing his 'just friends' roommate!" Before the guard could reach him, he handed it to a person in the row behind him.

A murmur spread through the concert hall as the guard grabbed the guy and started dragging him toward the side door. "They're all a bunch of faggots!" the guy yelled.

I took a deep breath and looked at Michael.

Someone else in the audience started a chant, "Faggot! Faggot! Let's get the faggots!"

The entire audience began to move toward the aisles and continued to chant as they made their way toward the stage. The security guards tried to stop them, but it was no use. "Let's get the fuck out of here," Bryan said. He unplugged his guitar and we headed toward the stage door. Garland had made a dash to the bus when the chant started, so he had the door open and the bus running. Leaving our equipment, except for Tommy's drumsticks and Bryan's guitar, we managed to get on the bus before the mob reached the stage.

It was still snowing and the road was getting slick, but Garland managed to get the bus on the road. I stood in the kitchen watching out the back window to see if anyone bothered following us. The crowd poured out the stage door just as we sped off, and, some actually started running toward the front parking lot. I hoped no one actually followed us.

The news crew had been at the front of the building, so they could get the peoples' reactions as they were leaving when the show was over, but they had also had a camera in the left wing, across from where Michael had stood, so they could get some clips of the audience's reactions and some of our songs to show on the news later, also.

The concert hall disappeared in the distance and I turned around to go back to the living room, where everyone else waited. Michael stood in the door to the kitchen. "Anyone coming?" he asked, softly.

I couldn't look him in the eye. "Not yet," I replied.

"Oh, shit!" we heard Tommy exclaim from the living room.

I didn't want to go see what he was upset about, but I had to know. Michael and I dashed down the hall to the living room.

Tommy stood at the door of his room, Bryan and Gary sat on the couch. Michael sat down on the recliner and I stood next to Tommy.

"This is Sheila Wells with KPRT TV in Portland, Kansas," the reporter I had seen earlier at the concert hall, said. "We are in front of the Mayberry Concert Hall, where just moments ago, Cliff Richmond and his band were on stage performing. One of the members of the audience stood up and informed everyone that he had a photo of Richmond kissing his roommate, Stallion Studios nude male model, Preston Townsen.

"The entire audience began a chant and made their way to the stage." The scene switched to an inside shot as she spoke. The camera that had been in the left wing had recorded everything. Us rushing out the door and the crowd getting up on stage and smashing the equipment that we had left behind. We knew that it would have been us if we hadn't gotten out of there when we did.

No one on the bus breathed a word as Sheila continued. "You may recall that it was reported a few weeks ago in the tabloid, 'The Weekly Reporter', that Richmond is gay and that he and Townsen are lovers. However, Richmond did a follow-up story the next week stating they were just friends.

"We just received word," she continued, as Tommy crossed over and sat down on the floor next to Michael, "that the man who started this riot is Marshall Atkins of Portland. He has been arrested and charged with starting a riot and destruction of property."

The scene switched back to Sheila. "I have here a copy of the photo that Atkins showed to the audience. It is from today's issue of 'The Weekly Reporter.'"

To add to my dismay the scene switched to the photo. It had been taken at the penthouse. Rex nor I had known that the photo was taken. It was right before a photo shoot. I was dressed, but Rex only had on a tan bikini. We had been kissing to get him erect for the shoot. It had worked. Now, thanks to KPRT and the national news station, CNTV, which was broadcasting to the world via satellite, the world knew about it.

"Fuck," Michael breathed. "Garland, take us home. The tour's off."

"Yes, sir," he replied.

"Cliff Richmond is scheduled for a one month, tri-state tour," Sheila continued. "Tonight was the first performance on the tour. Since his equipment has been destroyed by the rioters, there is doubt that he will keep this schedule."

She stepped over a little and Mr. Dawson came into the view of the camera. Beside him stood another man that I didn't know. "I am here with Mr. Alfred Dawson. He is the manager of the Mayberry Concert Hall," she said. "Mr. Dawson, do you have anything to say?"

"Yes, Sheila, I do," he said. "I am very ashamed to live in a town that would turn against such a great singer, or anyone, who is gay, so violently. What he does behind closed doors is no one's business but his and who he's doing it with. It makes me sad because I know there must be other gay people here in Portland who cannot be themselves in public for fear that people like those here tonight might do the same thing to them that they tried to do to Cliff Richmond and his band."

The other man stepped forward and leaned over to speak into the microphone. "I am Peter Myers," he said. "I am the Mayor of Portland. And, if Richmond or any of his band members or his manager are watching tonight, I would like to express my humble apologies. I, too, am ashamed of the people of Portland and their actions. I will make sure that you are reimbursed for the damage done to your equipment."

Mr. Dawson added, "You will also be receiving a check for the entire amount of all the tickets we sold tonight. We will not be withholding our service fee."

"And the tax payers of Portland will be glad to know that they will be paying for the remodeling from the damage made to the concert hall as well as your equipment," the Mayor added.

"He can't do that," Bryan said.

"Maybe not, but it'll make everyone think before they act, next time," Gary said.

"Well, we're not going to let there be a next time," I said. "Michael will find you guys a new lead singer, or you can sing for yourselves. Bryan and Gary are good enough, they can do it. I'll go home to Rex and we'll stay out of the spotlight."

I didn't wait for an answer, I went into my room and closed the door. I removed my clothes and had just lay down on the bed when my cell phone rang.

"Hello?" I reluctantly answered it. I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone and it would be two hours before Rex called.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Rex's deep voice reached my ear and a warm feeling spread through my body.

I knew he cared and really did love me. I wished he had been there to hold me the way I needed him to, right then. "No," I replied.

I didn't want to explain what had happened. Luckily, I didn't have to. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said. "I just saw the news. I wish I was there. What are you going to do?"

"Michael's on the bus with us," I said. "We're on our way home."

"I'm pretty sure it was Victor who leaked this to the rag," Rex said, hotly. "I'm going to go over to his house in a little bit and smash his fucking face in."

"Calm down, Rex," I said, sternly. "I don't want you to do anything you'll regret." I got up and moved the curtain back to look out, it was still snowing. "Rex," I said, softly, "I want you to meet me at the office when we get there. If you smash his face in, you'll be in jail and I won't get to hold you when I see you again." Fighting back the tears, I squeaked, "And I need to hold you."

"Okay, baby," he said, tenderly. "I'll be good. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Thank you, Rex," I said, crawling back into bed. I was always afraid that his temper would get him into trouble. I was thankful that he hadn't been there during the riot. He would have tried to fend off the mob while we loaded up our equipment. "I'll be fine. I love you, Rex," I said, pulling the cover back over me. "I can't wait to feel your big strong arms around me, again."

"I can't either, babe," he said. "You get some sleep and I'll see you tomorrow. Call me when you get to Rockdale, and I'll meet you at the office."

"Okay. Thanks, Rex."

"I love you, baby," he said, softly.

"I love you, too, Rex."

I sighed and hung up. Rockdale was only three miles from Timber Creek, where we lived. That would give him time to get to the office before we did. If there were any reporters, he could grab my suitcase and whisk me away before anyone knew what happened.

I'm not sure how long I slept, but it must have been quite a while before I felt the bed move and awoke with a start. I had left the black-out drapes closed so the room was pitch black except for the red glow from the digital travel alarm. It read ten-thirty.

A warm hand touched my hip underneath the cover and started slowly up my side. "Michael, stop," I whispered, grabbing the hand and pushing it away. "You promised you'd sleep on the couch."

His warm lips kissed me on the cheek as I rolled over onto my back. My bare chest pressed against his warm, hard, hairy chest and I could feel his hard cock press against my leg as I turned to face him. "I'm not Michael," Bryan whispered and kissed me full on the lips.

I gasped and tried to push him away. He was so hot and he tasted so good. I could feel his hard rod pressing against my leg and I could tell he really was the same size as Rex.

"No, Bryan," I whispered. "I can't."

"Yes, you can. Rex told me to take care of you, remember?" he asked and kissed me again, so I couldn't answer.

"This is not what he meant," I replied, pushing him away again.

"So you're fucking Michael, too, huh?" he asked, pressing his body against me and nuzzling my neck.

"That was before I met Rex," I replied.

He rolled over onto his back, reached up and turned the light on. He was totally erect. To my dismay, so was I.

"I almost got killed tonight because of you and Rex, Cliff," Bryan said, wrapping his hand around his large organ. He slowly began to stroke it. "You need to make up for that by sucking my dick and letting me fuck your ass, baby."

I sighed and ran my hand over his hard, hairy chest. I leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. "I love Rex," I said. "I can't sleep with you."

"Who said anything about sleeping?" he asked, softly. He let go of his cock and pulled me down against him and kissed me on the lips again. I tried to pull away, but he held me closer.

I finally pulled away and turned to get off the bed, but landed right in Gary's warm, strong arms. "Hi," he said, softly. I hadn't heard the door open or close. Again, these doors were quiet. The odd thing was, I hadn't felt the bed move when he lay down next to me.

Gary grinned at me. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked and lowered his head and kissed me on the lips. I couldn't stop him. My body trembled as Bryan ran his hand over my asshole. He had found some lube in the night stand and was applying it to my rose bud.

My own cock screamed for attention as I broke the kiss with Gary. I glanced down at his swollen rod. Without uttering a word, I leaned down and kissed his belly button, then slowly kissed my way down the soft trail of black hair to his pubic region, moving his eight-inch rod out of the way with my hand. Meanwhile, Bryan raised up a little and pressed his hard rod deep into my asshole. I glanced up as I took Gary all the way into my mouth and pressed my nose into his soft black bush. Gary and Bryan kissed deep and passionately as they both enjoyed my orifices.

"Oh, fuck yeah," Bryan gasped, slamming his hard rod deep inside me. "His ass is great."

"So's his mouth," Gary replied and they kissed again.

The door flew open with a bang. "What the fuck's going on here?" Rex demanded, barging into the room. He was dressed in the skimpy tan bikini briefs he had worn in the photo that was in 'The Weekly Reporter'.

I gasped and jolted awake, sitting up. I was alone in the room. It was still pitch black, since the black-out drapes were closed. I looked at the red glow of the clock. It was twelve-fifty-four a.m.

Sighing, I got up, slipped my robe on and stepped out into the hallway. The bus was dark. The door to Bryan and Gary's room was closed as was the door to Tommy and Garland's room. I walked quietly down the hallway to the living area. The bus was moving, but Michael wasn't on the couch. I guessed he must have taken Garland's bed instead of the couch. I went to the bathroom then into the kitchen and made a fresh pot of coffee. I figured Garland would need it by now, we'd been on the road almost six hours and I didn't know if he'd had a break or not. Because we were in a hurry to get home, I figured he hadn't.

Pouring a cup of coffee when the first cup was made, I carried it to the front of the bus. "Here you go," I said, softly. To my surprise, Michael was at the wheel instead of Garland.

"Thanks, Cliff," Michael said, taking it.

"Michael, what are you doing driving?" I asked, stunned. I didn't think Garland would let anyone drive the bus.

He took a sip of coffee and placed the cup in the cup holder. "If I drive the rest of the way to Stillwater," he explained, "then Garland can make it all the way in to Timber Creek without stopping. That will get us back to the office by noon."

I sat down on the top step. He glanced down at me and I sighed. "I'm really sorry about this, Michael," I said, softly. "I guess everyone's pretty pissed at me, huh?"

He glared out the window for a moment, then picked up the coffee cup again. "No one's said anything, actually," he replied. "They all went to bed after you did.

"When was that photo taken?" he asked.

"A couple of months ago," I replied. "We didn't know it had been taken.

"Rex saw the news," I explained. "He thinks that Victor, his boss at Stallion Studios, released all this to the tabloid because he wants Rex to do a fuck-flick and he won't do it since we're together. Rex is under the impress that Victor thinks if my career is in jeopardy, we will break up and then he'll do the flick. Which he wouldn't just to spite Victor, but we're not going to break up anyway, so if my career has ended, then it's over and Victor only ruined our lives for nothing. Maybe Rex will quit, though."

"Well, we don't know for sure that your career has ended, Cliff," Michael said, to my surprise. However, I knew it had. There was no way I was going to stand on stage again in front of a group of people who could turn on me in an instant. "I'll make a few phone calls Monday morning to find out what we're going to do."

"You'd better just call everyone on the tour and cancel, Michael," I said.

He chuckled and took a sip of coffee. I loved his deep sexy chuckle. It was times like this that I wished he had been willing to be more than just fuck-buddies. Times like this, I really loved him. "You're forgetting how the public is, Cliff," he said. "This might just be the publicity we need to send your record sales soaring and your song to the top of the charts."

"Yeah, right," I replied with a snort.

"Don't be so negative, babe," he said, softly.

I stood up and stretched. The moon was shining and I could see the road had been cleared. If there was any ice on the road, it wasn't bothering us. "I'm not being negative, Michael," I said. "I just don't want to risk having a mob like that come at me again. I wouldn't blame the guys if they never speak to me again, either."

"Hopefully, they won't turn against you, Cliff," he said, slowing down.

"Do you need some more coffee?" I asked as he pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. "I'll get you some."

"No. I need to piss," he said. He stood up and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against him. "I do love you, Cliff," he whispered.

I melted into his arms. "Then why didn't you want to be lovers?" I whispered against his shoulder.

He didn't reply, he pulled back a little and took my chin in his hand and kissed me gently on the lips. I knew I wasn't dreaming this time. I was standing there kissing Michael. He broke the kiss and sighed. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I just couldn't," he said. He let go of me and turned and went down the hall to the bathroom. I sighed and leaned up against the pole. I watched the wind gently blow snow across the road in front of us.

It was just as well that Michael couldn't give himself to me as a lover, now that I was in love with Rex. I couldn't figure out why I had dreamed about having sex with Bryan and Gary. If I weren't living with Rex, I'd understand it. I had had such fantasies about them before I met Rex, but they had never been so real. Usually just a lot of kissing and dreaming they were fucking me. Of course, I had to admit, since I had never seen them nude until the night before, I hadn't had anything to base my dreams on until now, either.

I returned to my bedroom, removed my robe and lay down. As I lay there, I stared blankly at the red display of the travel alarm and smiled. It had been the end of March when the guys and I had been working frantically to get our first album out. After we finished what we believed and hoped, would be the final cut, the guys left the studio. Michael asked me if I'd like to go out to the local gay bar. I didn't drink but he wanted to unwind a little.

"I tell you what, Cliff," he had said. "If you come with me to the Gang Plank and let me have a few drinks, you can take me home and I'll fuck your brains out."

Since I wasn't seeing anyone at that time, and I really was in love with Michael, I jumped at every chance I could to get his dick inside me and up to that point, he'd only screwed me twice.

I rubbed his cock through his slacks and kissed him on the lips. He pulled back a little and pushed my hand away. "Get me drunk first, baby," he said.

I sighed. If that was the only way I could have him, I'd take him that way.

We walked into the Gang Plank and I looked around and sighed. It was the average bar scene; the music was too loud, the air thick with smoke. Michael put his arm around me and guided me up to the bar. More to keep the other guys from bothering him than that he loved me or really wanted to have his arm around me.

He ordered a beer and me a Sprite and we went over to a table and sat down. There was no point in talking, since, we couldn't hear anything we said anyway, and I needed to save my voice for a performance I had coming up that weekend, anyway.

After Michael's third beer, the lights dimmed a little more and the music stopped. A slender guy wearing a pair of brown slacks that appeared a bit too big for him, with blue suspenders and a tight-fitting navy blue shirt that reminded me of long underwear, stepped up on the stage. The spot light hit him. He had a goatee and wore wire-rimmed glasses. He was pretty geeky, actually.

Without saying a word, the music began and he started to dance. As he danced, he performed some pretty suggestive moves. Slipping the suspenders off his shoulders, his baggy pants fell to the floor. He acted surprised and the crowd laughed at him. He stepped out of them instead of pulling them back up. He wore a pair of baggy white boxer shorts with big red lips all over them.

He continued to dance and do suggestive moves, then he raised his shirt up and slipped it off over his head. He was actually pretty muscular and had a nice smooth chest. He had more of a swimmer's build than a weight-lifter's build. He went into a posing routine, and then turned his back to us and slipped his boxers off. He only wore a tight blue thong bikini. When he turned around, it was obvious he was well-endowed. The audience clapped and cheered and he picked up his clothes and left the stage. I didn't understand why he hadn't danced for us and gotten money, but I figured that wasn't what he was there for.

The stage went black. Music started again and the spotlight searched the stage, finally landing on a tall man who stood with his back to the audience. He wore a black leather cap, a black leather jacket and black leather jeans.

Michael sighed and leaned over and kissed me. "Let's go fuck," he said. I could tell he was finally drunk.

"Wait, I want to see this one, then we'll go," I said.

Michael didn't argue. He leaned back and slumped in his chair. The dancer began to move to the music. He danced for several minutes before he turned around. When he did, his eyes met mine. Our eyes locked together. We could only stare at each other. He somehow managed not to miss a beat as he continued to dance. He wasn't wearing a shirt and had a nice muscular hairy chest. I could tell this man worked out.

He danced his way to the front of the stage. He turned around and lowered his jacket, letting the audience see his muscular back. As he turned to face the audience again, he slipped the jacket off and tossed it to me. I almost didn't catch it. If I hadn't it would have hit me in the face. I breathed in the aroma. The leather mixed with the smell of him.

He continued to dance on the stage. I held the jacket to my cheek and watched him. He grinned down at me as he undid his pants and slipped them off. He was wearing only a black thong bikini that couldn't even begin to hide his package, even though it was designed to. He danced his way to the front of the stage. His muscular arms, legs and body drove me wild, but what sent me over the edge was that shit- eating grin. He posed in the body-builder style. I could feel the blood rush to the center of my body. I couldn't take my eyes off him. I knew this was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

The spot light went out. His routine was over. I tried to adjust my eyes to the darkness, though the lights in the club were still on bright enough to see by, otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to see me from up on the stage.

I felt warm lips press against my cheek. "Thanks for keeping my coat warm for me, baby," his deep voice said.

I stood up against him as he tried to take his coat from me. He grinned down at me and kissed me on the lips. "I love you," I heard my voice whisper.

He chuckled, a deep sexy chuckle, and kissed me on the lips. "I think we'd better take your boyfriend home and get to know each other a little better before we go that far, sweetheart," he said. "I'm not into threesomes. So, we'll have to figure out how to dump him, too."

I glanced over at Michael. He had fallen asleep with his head back against the wall behind his chair. His mouth was open and he was snoring softly and drooling.

"He's not my boyfriend," I replied. "He's my agent."

"Okay. Then let me go get a shower and get dressed and I'll help you get him home. Then we'll get to know each other better."

"Can I keep the coat just to make sure you come back?" I asked.

He chuckled and kissed me again. "I'll be right back," he said. He left, letting me keep the jacket. I smiled as I realized I didn't even know his name, but I had his jacket. He would be back. Those leather jackets weren't cheap.

Rex had carried Michael out to his car and I drove the sleeping drunk home. Rex followed in his own car, then carried the sleeping lump up to his apartment. I took his shoes off and covered him up after Rex had laid him in bed. After leaving a note for Michael, I went with Rex to his apartment.

Since it was still chilly, Rex had built a fire in the hearth and we sat and sipped hot chocolate and talked until about six o'clock in the morning. Then, to my surprise, he took me home.

"Don't you want to come in for a while?" I asked, standing in the doorway.

He grinned at me. "I've got one more thing to tell you that I haven't told you yet," he said. "I guess now's the best time to get it over with."

"Oh?" I asked, nervously. We had talked about everything. I couldn't imagine what could be left to discuss.

He came in and closed the door. "It's not that bad," he said, "but it does seem to keep me from finding someone special. I guess I should stop, but the money's too good to do that."

I frowned. "What are you, a gigolo?" I asked, worriedly. I wanted to sleep with him so bad, but I wasn't going to pay for it. However, he had told me that he was a programmer for a computer software company, so I didn't think he'd be a gigolo on the side.

"No," he replied, leading me to the couch.

"Oh, I get it, you're really straight."

"No. I'm most defiantly gay and I find you very attractive. I'd like to be your lover, too."

I ran my hand over his cheek. He needed to shave but his morning beard was soft instead of prickly like I figured it would be. "What is it then?" I asked, softly. "I can handle it."

He took a deep breath, took my hand in his and glanced around the room. "Are you on the Internet?" he asked, noticing my computer in the corner.

"Yes," I replied.

"Can we log on? It'll make it easier to tell you."

"Okay." I got up and turned on the computer monitor. I used my computer to receive faxes, so I left it on all the time. I unloaded my fax software and logged into the Internet.

Rex knelt next to me and said, "I do more than just dance and write software, babe. Go to Stallionstudios dot com."

I typed in the URL and waited. The intro screen brought up a picture of Rex sitting bareback on a white horse. I could only stare at the photo. Rex had the horse by the mane and it was rearing up on it's hind legs. Rex held a white Stetson hat above his head in his left hand. The only thing he wore was that shit-eating grin and an erection.

I felt Rex's lips brush my cheek. "The photo's a fake," he whispered. "I've never been on a horse in my life, but the erection's not. Do you still want it? I'm not going to stop posing."

I tore my eyes from the screen and looked into those beautiful blue eyes. Tears stung at my eyes as I said. "I don't want you just for the erection. I want you for you. Everyone in the world can drool over that great body all they want, but, if you'll let me have it, I'm not going to share it with anyone."

He grinned and kissed me. "Let's go to bed," he whispered.

Rex and I had dated for about a month before we found the three-bedroom brick house and moved in together. I still wasn't sure if Michael realized that he hadn't fucked me that night, but since he had woken up with his clothes on the next morning, he probably did. It didn't matter anyway, though. Rex had made love to me that morning. Michael would have just gotten his rocks off and fallen asleep.

I stretched and looked up at the clock. It was seven- thirty. I wasn't sure what time I had gone back to sleep after spending some time with Michael while he drove. I didn't know if I should even get out of bed, but I wasn't sleepy any more. I was worried about the reception I would get from the guys after what had happened the night before.

Getting up, I slipped my robe on and took a sweat suit out of the dresser. We had five hours before we'd arrive in Timber Creek, so there was no rush to pack. However, I thought it might be a good idea to pack in case the guys threw me off the bus if I left my room. Taking a deep breath, I decided against packing and took the sweat suit to the bathroom. The door to Bryan and Gary's room was still closed and so was the one to Tommy and Garland's room. Michael was asleep on the couch in the living room. I could see out the front window that the road was clear and the sun was shining. I went into the bathroom and took a shower and got ready to face the day.

Even though there had been only two cups of coffee taken from the eight-cup pot, it smelled pretty ripe, so I dumped it down the drain and made a fresh pot. I figured that since we wouldn't be stopping for breakfast in Clear Lake, which we should arrive at within the hour, I would go ahead and make breakfast. I started cooking sausage. While it was cooking, I poured Garland a fresh cup of coffee and took it up to him.

"Here, try this," I said, handing it to him.

He moved the cup he had in his cup holder and took the one I handed him. "Thanks, Cliff," he said. "Made a pot at four when I relieved Michael, but didn't get but two cups of it before he fell asleep and I figured I'd better not stop unless nature calls."

"I'm making breakfast," I said. "You can pull over long enough to come eat when it's ready."

"Thanks. Whatcha making?"

"Sausage, eggs, biscuits and gravy," I replied.

"Sounds great. Just leave the gravy off and make a sandwich with the eggs and sausage in a biscuit and I can drive and eat."

"It won't hurt you one bit to take a fifteen-minute break to come eat," I informed him.

He grinned up at me. I was thankful to see the laughter in his pretty blue eyes. "Yes, Mother," he replied. It was the first time he'd ever said that.

I gently squeezed his shoulder and returned to the kitchen.

"One down, three to go," I said under my breath.

I had just finished putting the biscuits in the oven when Bryan walked out of his room. He was wearing his robe. "Morning, Cliff," he said. "Mm, something smells great."

"Thank you," I said as he got a cup out of the cabinet and filled it up with coffee.

"How'd you sleep last night?" he asked, sitting down at his place at the table.

"All right, I guess," I replied, flipping the sausage over. "I woke up about one and sat up with Michael for a while. He drove from somewhere to Stillwater."

"I guess you took a cup of coffee to Garland," he said. It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah. I told him he was going to pull over and come eat when breakfast is ready."

Bryan chuckled. "I'm sure Michael will throw a fit about that."

"Well, until we get back to Timber Creek," I said, sternly, shaking my spatula at him, "I'm still the boss, so he can just throw his little fit. Garland's health is more important than us being back to the office at noon."

Bryan smiled and took a sip of coffee but didn't say anything. I turned around and continued making breakfast.

I had just put everything on the table and pressed the intercom button when Gary walked in. He was wearing only a pair of white boxer shorts. "Is that coffee?" he asked, sleepily.

"That's what the can said," I replied. "Garland, it's ready," I said into the intercom. "Pull over and come eat. I'll feed Tommy and Michael when they get up, so let them sleep."

"Be right there," he replied and we felt the bus slow down.

I sat down next to Bryan while Gary poured himself a cup of coffee. I was thankful Bryan didn't move from where he sat, but started filling his plate. "Thanks for breakfast, Cliff," he said, softly.

"You're welcome," I replied. "I hope you like it."

"We will," Gary said. He set his cup on the table at his place and sat down. I noticed that the fly of his boxers came open and from where I sat, I had a perfect view of his cock and soft black bush. If he noticed, he made no attempt to close it, since the top snap was still fastened. He did, however, bump his leg against mine like he always did. This time, I didn't move my leg, I left our legs touching under the table, wishing I had worn shorts instead of the long sweat pants so I could have felt his skin against mine. I took a deep breath and tried to clear the image of the dream that I had of he and Bryan from my mind.

Garland came in after stopping by the bathroom and poured himself another cup of coffee. He sat down and filled his plate. "Thanks, Cliff," he said. "I'm glad you insisted on stopping. I hate eating and driving."

"So do I," I said. "Besides, you needed a break if you've been driving since four."

I noticed that Garland put an ample amount of cream gravy on his biscuits, but didn't comment. I knew he would prefer them with gravy on them.

Gary frowned at Garland. "We didn't stop during the night, did we?" he asked.

"No. Michael drove from about nine-thirty to four while I got some shut-eye," he replied.

"Oh. I didn't notice the bus stop at nine-thirty," Gary admitted.

"Michael stopped at about two to go to the bathroom," I said. "I sat up with him for about an hour before going back to bed."

"I guess I slept like a rock," Bryan said. "I didn't notice the bus stop at all."

"Neither did I," Gary admitted.

I didn't know if they were talking this way just to make small talk and not touch the subject that I so feared they would bring up, or if they actually weren't worried about their future or what I was going to do when we got back to Timber Creek.

Garland finished eating and pushed his chair back. "That was great, Cliff," he said, patting his round, jolly stomach.

"Thank you," I said. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Sure did. I guess I'd better get on the road before Michael wakes up."

"Will you let me know when we get to Rockdale?" I asked as he stood up.

"Sure."

"You go on," I said as he picked up his plate. "I'll get the dishes."

He shrugged and left the room, leaving the plate on the table. Bryan stretched and yawned. "Anyone need the bathroom?" he asked. "I'm gonna get a shower."

"No, go ahead," I said, getting up. "Want some more coffee, Gary?" I asked as Bryan left the room.

"Yeah, sure," he said. I placed Garland's plate on top of mine and placed our dishes in the sink before picking up the coffee decanter. I stood next to Gary and he leaned back while re-filled his cup. Where I stood, I had an even better view of his cock than when I had been sitting down.

Trying to concentrate to keep the blood from rushing to the center of my body, after all, I wasn't wearing any underwear, only a flimsy sweat suit, I picked up his empty plate and turned to place the decanter back on the coffee maker and his plate on top of Garland's. I poured myself another glass of milk and sat back down. Gary stretched and yawned. He leaned up and whispered, "So, Cliff, what's going to happen now?"

"I don't know for sure," I replied, fighting the urge to place my hand on his arm. "Michael thinks that this might boost ratings, like when Ellen came out on her sitcom. But, to tell you the truth, Gary, I am scared to death. I don't think I'll ever be able to stand in front of an audience again."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," he replied with a sigh. He leaned back in his chair. Again, I could see his cock through his boxers. Without saying a word, I reached over and snapped the middle snap.

He grinned at me. "Sorry," he said, softly. "I didn't notice it was open."

"You're a very good-looking guy, Gary," I said. "I'd love to sleep with you, but I am taken and I can't cheat on Rex."

He smiled and placed his hand on my shoulder. "You know, Cliff, it's funny, you're the only guy I'd even consider sleeping with."

I blushed as Bryan turned the water off in the shower. "I'll take that as a compliment," I said. "And if Rex and I weren't lovers, I'd take you up on it."

He sat up and took a sip of coffee. "I don't know if I'd ever go all the way, though," he admitted.

"I guess we'll never know, will we?" I asked, getting up and crossing to the sink.

I filled the sink up so I could do the dishes. Gary grabbed the dish towel and dried them while I washed. We had just finished when Tommy came in. "Morning, dudes," he said. I noticed he was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, which he had left unbuttoned. It was the same shirt he'd worn the day I caught him jerking off.

"Morning, Tommy," Gary said.

"Hi. You want some breakfast?" I asked.

Tommy gave me a cold look and my heart broke. I knew that the time we had spent together playing cards, Friday night, would be the last time we ever did anything together. I wouldn't be surprised if he quit if we didn't dissolve the group. I also knew by that look that Rex would not be taking him to Stallion Studios to get his port folio made. Tommy had told me he wasn't able to handle his best friend being gay, now, after losing his drums and almost getting killed, he couldn't handle being associated with me, either.

Gary noticed the look too, but didn't say anything. "No, thanks," Tommy said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Cliff made the coffee," Gary said softly, hanging up the dish towel.

"Thanks, Cliff," Tommy said and took his cup with him as he left the room.

"I'll go talk to him," Gary offered, heading for the door.

"No, Gary, don't," I said. "We had a little chat Friday when he brought me dinner. He can't deal with it, so don't worry about it."

"Friday? Nothing happened Friday."

I sat down at the table and motioned for him to join me. He took his place, again bumping his leg against mine. "Tommy hadn't heard about the article in the rag," I began as Bryan came back in the kitchen. He only had his towel wrapped around his waist. I motioned for him to sit down and he took his place next to me.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Tommy's giving Cliff the cold shoulder," Gary replied.

"Uh-oh," he said with a sigh.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Anyway, Tommy didn't know about the article in 'The Weekly Reporter' until the waitress mentioned it at lunch Friday. He bought a copy of it when he went to get gum after lunch. When he brought my sandwich, he told me that he knew it was true. So, I didn't deny it. He said that he had a friend who was gay and he couldn't handle their friendship because the friend was in love with him. I told him I wasn't in love with him and he handled it okay until the entire audience came after us last night.

"Actually," I continued, wiping the sweat off my glass with my napkin, "I've been worried to death about what you two were going to say and do this morning, too."

Bryan glanced at Gary. "We've had that little talk," Gary said. "I'm cool with him." He got up and headed toward the door. "You have your little talk, I'm going to get a shower and shave."

"Thanks, Gary," Bryan said.

Bryan looked at me for a moment after Gary was gone. I stood up and asked, "Do you want some more coffee?"

"Sure," he replied, handing me his cup. I filled his cup and returned the pot to it's resting place. Before I could pick up the cup, warm hands enveloped me and turned me around. Bryan wrapped his arms around me and kissed me gently on the lips. "I love you, Cliff," he whispered. "That's how I feel about you."

I pulled back a little and looked up into his eyes. "Why couldn't you have told me that before I met Rex?" I asked, softly.

He shrugged. "I guess that since you were trying your hardest to play straight, it wouldn't have worked out very well for us to be lovers and travel on the bus together." He let go of me and placed his hands on his hips and looked down at me. "It's worked out okay up until now since we've never spent a night on the bus, " he added, "but, damn, Cliff, being here with you has really been rough this trip."

I pushed him away and handed him his cup. "I do love you, too, Bryan," I said, sitting back down. "But when I first laid eyes on Rex, I knew he was the man I was supposed to spend my life with. I wouldn't cheat on him for anything. There will always be a special place in my heart for you, Gary and Michael," I said. Grinning, I added, "But there's only room in my ass for Rex."

Bryan grinned and stood up. He glanced at the door and removed his towel, exposing his large organ to me. He really was the same size as Rex, but Rex was more muscular and three-inches taller than he was. "I happen to know that this one is the same size as Rex's, therefore, there really is room in your ass for it."

I took a deep breath and smiled. "You know what I mean, Bryan," I replied.

He closed the towel and sat back down as Michael walked in. "Yeah, I do," Bryan said. "And I respect that."

"Morning, guys," Michael said.

"Hi," Bryan said, getting back up. "I'll go get dressed."

"How did you sleep?" I asked as Michael sat down in Gary's chair. I found it interesting that his leg bumped mine. Maybe it was the location of the chair instead of something that Gary did on purpose.

"I slept fine," he replied, wincing as he stretched, "but I woke up with a backache. I think I'll have that couch replaced with a sleeper, just in case I need to stay on the bus again."

"Sorry to hear that," I replied. "I'll ask Rex if you can come sit in the Jacuzzi when we get back."

"Yeah, right," Michael replied. "It's been three days since you've seen each other, company is the last thing he'll want hanging around. I'll use the hot tub at the club. Don't worry about me."

"Thanks," I said with a smile. "Do you want breakfast?"

"Nah, just a cup of coffee will get me going. I'll grab some lunch on the way home." Michael had never been one to cook. To my knowledge, his kitchen had never been used.

I squeezed his arm and said, "If you will excuse me, I'm going to pack."

I was thankful that there was no one but Rex waiting for us when we reached the office building of Baldwin Agents and Managers. Tommy was the first one off the bus. After grabbing his suitcase, he headed for his car, which he had left parked in the parking lot. He didn't wait for Garland and he didn't say a word to anyone on the bus or Rex. He had stayed in his room until we arrived. The morning sun had melted the ice and snow from the windows of his car, so he hopped in and took off.

I handed my suitcase to Rex and stepped off the bus, he pulled me into his strong arms and kissed me on the lips. Even if there were cameras around, it didn't matter any more.

I was still wearing my sweat suit, but I had put on my heavy coat. Rex squeezed my bottom through the soft, flimsy material and kissed me passionately. The blood rushed to the center of my body and I pressed against him. He was wearing jeans and a heavy jacket. "Are you okay, babe?" he asked. I could see the concern in those beautiful blue eyes as he looked at me.

"I am now," I replied.

He turned me a little to face Gary and Bryan as they stepped off the bus, but kept his arm around me and held me against his side. Since my body pressed against him, the others couldn't see that I was boned. "Thanks for keeping him from getting killed last night, guys," Rex said. "Sorry about your keyboard, Gary."

"It's nothing compared to what could have been smashed," he replied. "I've never seen such an angry mob before. We got out of there just in time."

"Yeah. I saw the news clip from the camera back stage," Rex said. "It was awful. I wish I had been there."

"If you had been," I said, "you would have tried to fend off all of them and you'd have gotten killed."

He grinned at me and shrugged. "You're probably right," he agreed.

Michael stepped off the bus and looked at us. "I'll call you tomorrow, Cliff," he said. "Meanwhile, stay out of the public eye."

After saying goodbye to the guys, Rex and I got into his car and headed home. I reached over and placed my hand on his leg. "I love you, Rex," I said, softly. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too, babe. I don't know if I could have stood you being gone the whole month."

"I don't either," I admitted.

We rode in silence for a few miles then I looked over at him and said, "Rex?"

"Yeah, babe?" he asked, glancing at me.

"I don't want us to have any secrets from each other."

"Well, okay," he said, reluctantly. "I lied when I told you I'd never been on a horse. When I was three my dad put me on a Shetland pony at a circus once, but technically, that wasn't a lie because a pony is a pony and a horse is a full grown pony."

"Thank you," I said, tenderly. He frowned at me. "When I was in college, Michael and I screwed around a few times."

He raised his eyebrows as he looked at me. "The night we met, he had planned on getting drunk and taking me home and fucking me, but he fell asleep while I watched you dance. We were never lovers, but he has fucked me twice and I've blown him several times."

"I see," he said and looked out at the road ahead.

"I haven't slept with him since before the night you and I met," I informed him, "and I have no desire to, but I did want you to know."

He took my hand in his. "Thank you, sweetheart," he said, tenderly. "That means a lot to me that you'd tell me that."

"I just didn't want you to hear it from someone else," I said. "And, yesterday morning," I continued, thankful that he hadn't let go of my hand, "I got up to go to the bathroom."

"Yeah?" he said, cautiously.

"We were already in Portland, but I wasn't sure of that. I could tell we were stopped. I went to the bathroom then went up to the front of the bus to see where we were. We were at the concert hall. Well, on my way back to my room, Bryan and Gary's door was open. I glanced in just in time to see and hear Bryan ask Gary if he was asleep."

"What happened?" Rex asked. I could tell he was worried about what I was going to say, but he didn't let go of my hand.

"Bryan pushed the cover back and started jerking off. Which, of course, woke Gary up because of the bunk beds moving, so they started talking. Gary asked him if he was jerking off, and he said yes, but didn't stop. Then Gary started jerking off. I just stood there and watched. Where I was, they couldn't see me, but I could see them clearly.

"Anyway," I continued as he glanced over at me, "Gary asked Bryan if he thought we were lovers and he said yes." I went on to explain the conversation they had had while they jerked off.

"Wow," Rex breathed and released my hand so he could press the button that opened our gate.

"There's more, but I'll tell you about it when we get in the house," I said as he drove through the gate and pressed the button for the garage door.

"Oh?" he asked. I could tell he was still worried about what I was going to tell him.

"Yeah," I replied.

I hung our coats up while Rex deactivated the security system. He followed into the kitchen and sat down on a bar stool at the breakfast counter while I washed my hands and got a package of hamburger meat out of the freezer.

I placed the package in the microwave and pressed the defrost button. "Do you want me to make some fresh coffee?" I asked, noticing the half-empty pot.

"No, baby," he said, tenderly. "I'm not hungry, I just want you to tell me what's on your mind."

I got myself a glass of ice water from the door of the refrigerator and sighed. "I just want you to know that I love you, Rex," I said. "And I would never cheat on you."

He frowned at me. "But?" he asked, coaxing me to continue.

I took a sip of water and explained the dream I had had about Bryan and Gary. I ended by telling him that Bryan had kissed me that morning and he had also shown me his dick. I didn't mention that Gary had allowed me to see his, but since it hadn't appeared to be done on purpose, I figured he didn't need to know that.

Rex got up and wrapped his strong arms around me. "Thank you, Cliff, for telling me. It means a lot to me that you wanted me to know what happened."

He kissed me on the lips and picked me up. "Let's go take care of your needs."

He carried me into the bedroom. I looked into his eyes and grinned. "You mean you're going to call Bryan and Gary to come over and fuck me, too?"

After that comment, I expected him to drop me on the bed, or the floor, instead, he kissed me and gently lay me down on our king-sized bed. "No. I'm going to make love to you and make you forget every man on this earth."

"Mm, I like that idea, better," I said.

He stood up and slowly removed his shirt.

I sat up and started to unbutton mine. "Don't babe," he said. "I'll do it, but watch me first."

He kicked his boots off, then slipped off his socks. He unbuttoned his jeans and removed them. He stood before me in his blue bikini briefs that hardly covered his large organ. I was surprised he wasn't erect yet, my own cock was straining against the soft material of my sweat pants. Rex smiled at me and removed his briefs, tossing them across the room where they landed beside the bedroom door. Without saying a word, he reached down and grabbed my swollen rod through the flimsy material. I squirted at his touch. "Damn, baby," he said, stroking out the last of my seed. "You were horny." The crotch of my sweat pants was soaked. I had never came so quickly before. He pulled the soiled pants off me and tossed them toward the bedroom door.

Rex pulled my sweat shirt off over my head and lay down on top of me, kissing me gently on the lips. "I love you," I whispered, rubbing his strong, smooth back. I loved the feel of his hard, hairy chest against my smooth one.

Sighing, I glanced out the window. It was snowing again. Rex had been gone for several hours and wasn't due back for several more. He had gone to work. I was thankful that his posing and being outed as my lover on world-wide TV, hadn't interfered with his real job, a computer programmer for a major software company.

It had been almost two weeks since we had gotten back from the tour and I hadn't heard a word from Michael. I'd called him a few times, but he was always either out of the office or in conference. He didn't answer his calls at home, either, so I figured he was screening them or he had gotten lucky and wasn't spending time at home in the evenings. I knew well enough that it was probably the former. Michael wouldn't stay out all night after getting lucky unless he got drunk first and he only got drunk first if he was sleeping with a guy. No, it was obvious that all of a sudden he was ignoring me. I hadn't tried to get in touch with either Bryan or Gary, though. They hadn't called me, either.

Switching on the TV, I flipped to a news channel. The one that had covered the concert via a local station in Portland. They were showing the national weather. I noticed that it was snowing every where and they concluded by showing a report of a bad accident in Cedar Rapids due to ice on the roads. I was thankful the tour had been called off. We would have been performing that night in Cedar Rapids.

I went to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate. I needed Rex to be there to hold me to keep me warm, but since he had to work, I had to rely on something else. I had just sat back down on the sofa when the screen went from a commercial to a reporter standing in front of a record store. "This is Felicia Good," she said. "I'm reporting to you from in front of O'Conner's Records and Video here in Portland, Kansas.

"You may recall a couple of weeks ago," she continued, "the new country singer, Cliff Richmond, just barely escaped a gay bashing by the residents of Portland, when he attempted to hold a concert here. It has been brought to this reporter's attention, that no one has spoken to or seen Cliff Richmond since that incident. However, we are surprised to report, that he has released another single. The song, 'Touch the Moment', is off his album 'Silver Streaks.'"

"So, Michael did it after all," I said to myself.

"I went into O'conner's Records and Video earlier and was informed that it was not available here. They have also discontinued carrying 'Silver Streaks'. When I asked the manager why, he said, 'no comment.' He would not let us interview him on camera, either.

"The unwillingness of the country and western music community to acceptance Richmond based on his sexual preference," she continued, "makes this reporter wonder why, in our enlightened age, this could cause such an uproar. The night of the concert, the mayor apologized publicly on this news channel and promised to reimburse Richmond for the damage to the equipment. However, I spoke to Richmond's manager yesterday and so far he has not received either the payment for the concert, or the reimbursement that he was promised."

The scene switched to Felicia wearing a different outfit, standing in Michael's office. "I'm here in the office of Michael Wellman," she said into the camera. "Michael is the manager for Cliff Richmond and he works for Baldwin Agents and Managers. Mr. Wellman," she said, turning to Michael. He didn't look like he'd slept since I last saw him, "how is Cliff Richmond handling this?"

"To be honest with you, Felicia," he replied, "I have not spoken to him since we returned from Portland. I have been very busy trying to line up something for him to do, but that's been very difficult. The radio stations have stopped playing his records. Several of the stations I sent this release to, returned them. I am afraid that Cliff Richmond's career has ended before it even got started," he said, sadly.

"What about you, Mr. Wellman?" she asked. "Did you know that Richmond was gay before all this started?"

"Cliff and I went to college together," Michael replied. "I've known since then. I warned him several times not to be seen in public kissing or hugging his boyfriend. It is believed that someone where his boyfriend worked submitted the damaging information, but that hasn't been proven yet."

"Because of this, do you see Richmond making a music video in the future?" she asked.

"No. I was hoping for the 'Ellen DeGeneres' effect after the concert, but that has not happened. The public is apparently not open-minded and probably don't watch 'Ellen' any more, either."

"When country singer K. D. Lang came out a few years ago," Felicia continued, "she switched to Pop. Is that an option for Richmond?"

I was sitting on the edge of the couch. Michael and I had not discussed that option. I was anxious to hear what he would say.

"I do not know, Felicia," he admitted. "After what he went through in Portland, he might never want to stand on stage again, but when he is ready, I will talk to him about it. First, we have to see what the pop audience thinks about him. I've never heard him listen to pop music, though, so he might not want to."

The scene switched to the front of Tommy's apartment complex. I took a deep breath and waited. Felicia wore yet another outfit and stood at the front gate. "I'm standing in front of the apartment complex where Cliff Richmond's former drummer, Tommy Walters, lives." I was thankful they didn't show the name of the complex. It wasn't a security building. "Walters declined an interview," she said. "But he did say, and I quote, 'I never want to see or hear anything about him again,' before he slammed the door in our faces."

That was not something the public, nor I, needed to hear. I slumped against the back of the sofa. My hot chocolate hadn't been touched, but remained where I had set it on the coffee table.

The scene switched to the living room of the apartment Gary and Bryan lived in. They were roommates. They had a nice three-bedroom apartment. Each had his own room and the third room was where they had kept their instruments and practiced.

"I am now in the living room of the guitar player and the keyboardist for Cliff Richmond," she said. To my surprise she wore the same outfit she had worn in front of Tommy's complex.

She stepped over next to Bryan. "This is Bryan Perkins," she said. "You managed to salvage your guitar when the riot broke out. Are you going to continue playing for Richmond if he doesn't give up the business?"

Bryan smiled at the camera. His smile sent through my body, the warm feeling I had been looking for from the hot- chocolate. "Cliff is a great guy, Felicia," he said, tenderly. "I'll stand behind him no matter what he decides to do. I did salvage my guitar, but it's useless without the other equipment that the [bleep bleep] in Portland demolished."

I grinned. I could tell that Bryan had said, "fucking assholes" but they had cut those words out. I wished that it would have been live so they wouldn't have been able to, but I was comforted a little knowing that any one who could read lips had 'heard' what he said.

The camera quickly switched to Gary. He stood on the opposite side of Felicia.

"Gary Jones," she said, "you are the keyboardist. Your keyboard was destroyed in Portland. What are you going to do if the Portland mayor doesn't hold up to his promise that you will be reimbursed?"

"I'll leave that in the hands of Michael Wellman and our lawyer," he replied. "And, just to sit the record straight, I'm not gay, but I am one-hundred percent behind Cliff.

"I was really looking forward to our tour, Felicia," he continued. "But just because some idiot ruined it for not only Cliff and us, but also for all those out there who didn't care about his personal life, just loved his music, Cliff will probably not even attempt to continue singing."

I was actually surprised that Gary hadn't cussed like Bryan had. I figured they had been told not to use that kind of language since it had jumped from Bryan to Gary so quickly after Bryan had cussed.

"We talked to Michael Wellman earlier," Felicia said. "He admitted he hasn't spoken to Mr. Richmond since you returned. Have you?"

"No," Gary replied. "I did speak to his lover this morning, though. Cliff's holding up better than Preston expected him to, but he hasn't left the house since we got back. Preston did say that Cliff has talked to his parents and a few close friends on the phone, so he hasn't gone into total solitude."

"That's good," Felicia said. I wondered when Gary had talked to Rex. Rex hadn't mentioned it. The only "few close friends" I had talked to on the phone were the times I had either called Rex at work, or he had called me, which, I had noticed, had been more often than usual since I had gotten home. I was thankful that Gary had used Rex's stage name instead of his real name. The guys had never known him as Preston until the first article had come out in 'The Weekly Reporter'.

"What do you and Bryan think about the radio stations rejecting the shipment of your latest single?" Felicia asked.

"Pretty sad, actually," Bryan spoke up. "I called KTBC, the local country station here, and requested 'Silver Streaks', just to see if they would play it. They informed me they didn't have it anymore. So, if anyone wants to hear it, or our latest release, 'Touch the Moment', then you need to bombard your local stations with requests for them."

The scene switched to the out side of Michael's office building. "That's all the information we have for you now, Jerry," Felicia said as the screen split and she was in a box on the left and someone in the studio was in a box on the right. They put 'Live' up underneath her name at the bottom of her box. She was also wearing the same outfit she had worn when she interviewed Gary and Bryan.

"Thank you, Felicia," Jerry said. "Did Mr. Wellman give you any indication of how long he was going to wait for the reimbursement check and the payment from Portland before seeking legal action?"

"As a matter of fact," she replied, "he did. Mr. Wellman had a copy of the news report when I was with him yesterday. He said he sent copies of it along with the bill for damage and the group's payment, to both the mayor and the concert hall the Monday after they returned from Portland. He said that he would give them until the first of the month before contacting the lawyers for Baldwin Agents and Managers."

"Have you tried to contact Richmond yourself, Felicia?" Jerry asked.

"I have, but the only number we can locate for him is through Baldwin Agents and Managers, and Mr. Wellman thinks it would be best for him to keep out of the public eye, at least until settlement with Portland."

"Did you try to talk to the radio station that Perkins mentioned regarding their reasons for no longer having 'Silver Streaks'? What could have happened to it?"

"Yes, I did," she replied. "The program director was not available for comment."

"Thank you again, Felicia," Jerry said, turning to the camera. "Please keep us informed." The box Jerry was in grew to fill the screen, as her box shrunk to nothing. "We'll be back with sports, right after this," Jerry said and the screen switched to a commercial.

I turned off the TV and reached for the phone just as it rang. Looking at the Caller-id display, I smiled and pressed the 'talk' button. "Hi, Michael," I said. "I thought you were ignoring me."

"Sorry about that," he said, tenderly. I also heard the tiredness in his voice.

"I just saw the news report CNTV did on me," I informed him.

"I was hoping you would," he said. "What did you think?"

"You look and sound tired, Michael," I replied. "When was the last time you got any sleep?"

He chuckled. "That's what I love about you, Cliff," he said softly. "Your world has collapsed around you and you're worrying about me instead."

"Michael, your health is more important than my career," I said, sternly. "You can't do anything about my career in the middle of the night, so you should be sleeping."

"I know, babe," he said. "I go to bed and my mind goes ninety miles an hour trying to figure out what to do about this, so I don't get any sleep."

"I want you to come over for dinner tonight," I said. "You need a good home-cooked meal, too."

"Okay. Are you sure that Rex won't mind?"

"I'm sure," I replied. I was actually surprised that he hadn't argued with me. I would get him to eat then sit in the Jacuzzi for a while and give him a few beers. That would get him to relax, then I'd put him to bed in the guest room. The next day was Saturday so he didn't have to be at work. Rex had not had a photo shoot since the concert and the software company was closed on weekends, so he didn't have to work at either place, the next morning. Rex had stopped dancing at the club after we got together, therefore, he was all mine for the weekend. With him home, I could get him to help me make Michael get some rest.

"So, tell me, what did you think of the story?" Michael asked again.

"I understand why you didn't," I replied, "but I wish you would have let me be interviewed, too. I am not interested in going pop, but I wouldn't mind doing a video. However," I added, sadly, "if the radio stations don't want my records, I guess the TV stations wouldn't want the video."

"I guess we can try making a video," he said, thoughtfully. "I guess if we keep throwing you at them and letting everyone know via the news that the places we're throwing you are rejecting you, maybe the part of the public that wants to see and hear you, will start calling up the radio and TV stations wanting to hear and see you."

"Or they'll just call the news stations and say they don't," I interjected.

"That's a possibility, too. Okay, hon," he said, "I'll get you a new drummer and see what we can do about a video. I think it might be a good idea to make the video of either 'Silver Streaks' or 'Touch the Moment'. What do you think?"

"I'd like to do 'Moonbeams in Your Eyes', but Tommy probably wouldn't go for it," I replied.

"No, he wouldn't," Michael agreed. "I found a rock band for him. He's going to try out with them tonight. If they like him, he's going on the road with them Tuesday. They've got their own bus. It's an old school bus that's been converted. Most of the members smoke so it's pretty rank. Unfortunately, it's not just cigarettes they smoke, either. Garland told Tommy that he bought that bus for you and he's not going to let anyone but you use it. He also said he'd sell it if you quit."

"You mean you're an agent for a band that uses drugs?" I asked, stunned. I had always been under the impression that Michael wouldn't tolerate drugs of any kind.

"No. I'm not their agent. I placed an ad for Tommy and they were the only group that responded to it. They've got some shyster for an agent. I tried to talk Tommy out of it, but didn't have any thing else to offer him."

"Okay. Well, I hope he doesn't get hurt," I said.

"I am afraid he's going to," Michael admitted.

"Maybe I'll call Garland and see if he can talk some sense into him," I suggested.

"Okay. Well, I'd better get off here," Michael said, changing the subject. "What time you want me there tonight?"

"Rex gets off at five and so do you, so run home and get into some comfortable clothes and get over here. I'll have dinner ready at six. We're sitting in the Jacuzzi afterwards."

"Cool. I'll see you a little before six," he said.

I hung up and made a bee-line for the kitchen. I had three hours before dinner, but didn't have a clue as to what to fix. Had it just been Rex and me, I would have served left-overs from the night before, but Michael needed a good home-cooked meal. There weren't enough left-overs for the three of us.

Deciding on a chicken and rice dish that I knew Michael loved, I made up a grocery list and headed for the bedroom. It was still snowing, but I could make it to the store and back without any problems, I hoped. I hated driving in snow, but if I called Rex and asked him to stop by the store on the way home, it wouldn't be ready before six.

After changing into jeans, long-sleeved shirt and a pull-over sweater, I grabbed my coat and cell-phone and headed out the door to the garage. The road wasn't too slick as I headed towards the store. The store we always shopped at was about a mile from the house. I did slide around the corner as I turned into the parking lot, but managed to straighten my Chrysler Le Baron convertible out before slamming into anything. The parking lot was almost empty. It surprised me that there weren't many people out on a Friday afternoon at three-o'clock. The roads must have been worse than I thought they were. Rex would have killed me if anything happened.

I grabbed my cell-phone and the list and dashed into the store. I was thankful that most of the shoppers were all dispersed throughout the store. One of the cashiers smiled at me as I grabbed a shopping cart. I had not been in the store since before the concert, so I didn't know what kind of reception I was going to get. I knew most of the employees, but not all by name, but when I saw them. They, of course, all knew me and the manager had even asked if I would take my picture with him once. I had. However, Rex had always come with me to get groceries. I knew that no one would mess with me with him around, but now I was alone and wasn't sure what might happen. An eerie feeling swept over me as I realized this had been a bad idea, but I was already there and I really needed to get something for dinner. I had no choice but to face what ever might happen. I had my cell-phone and Rex was only a five minute drive away. I knew that if I were in trouble and able to get through to him, he would drop everything and come to my rescue.

"Good afternoon," I said to the cashier as I headed for the rice aisle. I didn't want to stick around to talk.

A few of the customers glanced at me as I walked by, but most of them were more interested in what they were doing than me. If any of them recognized me, they didn't let on. I breathed a sigh of relief and headed for the check-out counter.

To this day, I still don't understand how there can only be a few people in a store when you arrive, but there are a million at the check-out counter when you are ready to leave. Even more if you're in a hurry or don't want to be seen. There were only three cashiers and there were about ten people in each line waiting to be checked out. I dreaded standing in line with these people, but I had no choice.

Concentrating on my list and going over what I might have forgotten, in my head, I avoided eye contact with the others in line with me. Hoping that no one looked at me long enough to recognize me, I glanced up at the cashier and froze as my eyes landed on the current week's edition of 'The Weekly Reporter'. There, staring back at me, was my photo, for everyone in the line to see. There were four people ahead of me now, three behind me. The headlines across the top of the cover read: "Gay singer disappears after riot in Portland. All radio stations refuse new release."

"Remain calm," I said to myself. "If I don't panic, maybe they won't notice me."

I grabbed the TV Guide off the stand and flipped through it. I had just replaced it when my cell phone rang. Everyone in all three lines turned to look at me. The lady who was next up at the cashier in the adjacent line gasped as she recognized me.

"Hello?" I asked, softly, answering the phone and looking down at my feet, hoping to block my face from the others.

"Hey, babe, where are you?" Rex asked. "You sound like you're on the cellular."

"Yeah, I'm at the store." I had forwarded the house phone to my cell phone so I could receive any calls I got. "Michael is coming over for dinner," I explained and glanced up just in time to see the lady shove a copy of 'The Weekly Reporter' to the next person in her line, showing her my photo.

"Oh, baby, you shouldn't have done that. What if someone recognizes you?"

"Everyone just did," I replied as the first lady grabbed another copy the rag and dashed toward me. She had her checkbook out and was ready to pay for her groceries. She handed me a pen and the 'Reporter'.

"Would you please autograph this, Mr. Richmond?" she asked.

"Hold on just a sec," I told Rex. "Who should I make it out to?" I asked her. I was still nervous about what was going to happen.

"Make it out 'To Tim, with love.' Tim's my son." As she talked she dug in her purse and pulled out a photo of her son. "He's gay, too, and he has a poster of you hanging on the door in his room. He's head over heels in love with you. He saw you at your concert in Chesterville last month and he has your album. He'll just die when I tell him I saw you here."

"How old is he?" I asked. I scribbled out what she requested and signed it, Cliff Richmond and dated it.

"He just turned nineteen," she replied, taking the 'Reporter' and her pen. She handed me his photo. Tim was cute. The photo was obviously taken his senior year. I could tell by what little I could see of his body, he worked out. I wouldn't have minded meeting him. He had blond hair and dimples in both cheeks when he smiled. I could tell he wasn't my type, but he was cute.

"Very nice," I said, handing her the photo back.

"Thank you. And thank you for the autograph, too. Tim has tried several times to get the radio station to play your new release, but they've started hanging up on him when he calls. And now he can't even buy it."

"It is on the album that he's already got," I informed her.

"Excuse me, Ma'am?" the cashier called. "You're holding up the line. If you want to be checked out get over here."

"Okay," she replied. "Thanks again, Mr. Richmond."

To my relief, Mr. Coston, the manager, appeared as she returned to her cart. "You doing okay, Mr. Richmond?" he asked.

"Just fine, Mr. Coston," I replied. "Thanks."

I noticed that when he spoke to me, the others who had moved toward me stepped back in line.

"Rex?" I asked into the phone, then realized I shouldn't have said his name, especially since they knew him as Preston. Mr. Coston stayed close to the cashier I was in line for.

"Yeah, babe. You okay?"

"Everything's fine. I'll see you when I get home."

"Does that mean you need me to go on home now?" he asked, worriedly.

"No. Oh, do you need me to get anything?"

"Did you get condoms? I used the last one this morning."

"Yes, I did. I got beer, too. I want to get Michael drunk so he'll pass out and get some rest. I saw a news story on CNTV this afternoon that he was on and he called right afterwards. He said he hasn't been sleeping well and he looked like he hasn't slept since we got back."

"Good idea," Rex agreed.

"When did you talk to Gary?" I asked, pushing the cart forward as the cashier finished with a customer.

"This morning," he replied, confirming my suspicion that the interview was done that morning. "You were in the shower when he called. Sorry I didn't tell you, but I had to rush off and didn't get a chance to."

"That's okay. It just surprised me that he said in the interview that he had talked to you, but I didn't know he'd called."

"Well, babe, I need to get back to work. If you want me to come on home, I will. Are you going to be okay?"

"I think so," I replied, pushing my cart up for the cashier to check me out. "I'm checking out now. Mr. Coston is here. I'll see you in a little while."

"Okay. Call me if you think anyone follows you out of the lot. Make sure you come here instead of going home if they do."

"I will."

"I love you, Cliff," he said, tenderly. "Be careful and call me when you get home."

"Okay. I love you, too," I replied, softly. The cashier looked at me but didn't say anything.

I hung up and said, "Thanks again, Mr. Coston."

"Thank you," he said, placing a sack in a cart.

I paid cash and thanked the cashier. Mr. Coston wheeled my cart outside to my car. "I saw that news clip," he said as we walked. "Any idea what you're going to do now? I was disappointed they didn't interview you."

"So was I," I admitted. "No. My agent is coming over for dinner. I'm hoping that we can figure something out tonight."

"Good luck. You're a great singer, Cliff. I had a feeling you and Preston were a couple, but wasn't sure until the first article came out. I knew that the second article was just a cover up, but never said anything. Thanks again for coming in and be careful going home."

"Thank you for fending off the mob," I said, getting into my car.

"Sorry I wasn't able to stop Mrs. Porter."

"That's okay," I said. "At least I have two fans left."

He grinned. "Make that three."

No one followed me home, that I could tell. I pulled into the garage. After putting away the groceries and calling Rex to let him know I got home safely, I switched on the TV and sat down on the couch. The news station was doing the weather. As it ended, the announcer said, "Coming up next, our very own Felicia Good is on the trail of the future of gay country singer, Cliff Richmond."

I had a feeling it would be a repeat of the previous airing, so I set the VCR to record it. I knew Rex would want to see it when he got home.

I got up and dashed into my office, which was really the spare bedroom that I had my musical equipment and my computer in. I unforwarded the phone, then loaded my voice software. I had just thought of something that I could do that might help get my music played again. I was still doubtful that I would ever stand on stage again, but I still wanted to have my music played. I had my computer hooked up to the fax/data line, but the voice software was hooked up to the voice line so that I could use my computer as an answering machine. I could also talk on the phone through my computer, which also meant I could record conversations without the person on the other end knowing.

I turned on the radio and listed to KTBC for a moment to hear who the announcer was. John Riley. I didn't know him personally, but he'd been a DJ there for several years.

Using the computer, I dialed the local radio station and clicked 'record' as it started to ring. "KTBC Radio, Timber Creek's Hot Country," the announcer answered.

I said, "Hey, John, I'd like to hear that new song by Cliff Richmond. It's called 'Touch the Moment'. It's really a great song."

"Sorry. We don't have that song," he replied, somewhat coldly.

"Oh," I said, trying to sound disappointed and shocked at the same time. "Okay. Will you please play 'Silver Streaks', then?"

"We don't have that one either," John replied.

"You used to, what happened to it?" I asked, trying to sound puzzled. I really was curious as to what they had done with it. When it first came out, the day before the album it was on was released, the guys and I had gone to the station and had a live interview. John wasn't working that morning, the program director had been.

"Look, all you faggots are going to have to get yourself a new radio station. We don't play stuff by fags around here," he said, hotly and hung up.

I clicked the 'stop' button and grinned. John didn't know it, but I had him by the balls. Now to squeeze. However, I would wait for Michael and Rex before I contacted Felicia Good at CNTV. I also needed to get a recording of Dan Fields, the program director. I had talked to him enough that I didn't think I could get him to say what John had, but I could try to talk him into a corner.

It was almost four o'clock on Friday afternoon. I didn't know if Dan would still be at the station or not. He was on the air from six a.m. to ten a.m. but in the office most days until five, after taking a two or three hour lunch at eleven. I dialed the main number and held the mouse pointer over the record button. Whether Michael got mad at me or not didn't matter, I would at least have something for Felicia to listen to. If I was going to be able to continue my singing career, I needed to get the media on my side.

"KTBC, Timber Creek's Hot Country, this is Rebecca," a professional woman answered.

I was already recording. "Hi, Rebecca," I said. "Is Dan still there or should I call him at home?" I figured if I acted like I was a personal friend of Dan's I'd get through easier. Felicia had said that he wasn't available for comment, so she wasn't allowed to talk to him. Of course, that could have meant she showed up without an appointment.

"I think he's getting ready to leave," she said. "Hold on."

"Thanks." The music of the radio station came over the line. I did not stop recording.

"This is Dan," he said when the music stopped.

"Hi, Dan," I said. "This is Cliff Richmond. How's it going?"

I heard an exasperated sigh that I was thankful the computer picked up. "Hello, Cliff," he said. "I'm really sorry about all the problems you're having."

"Well, I'm not surprised that the public is making such a big deal about it," I said. "I just can't understand why you've stopped playing my song and rejected my new release."

"Look, Cliff," he said with another sigh. "I don't give a shit if you're boinking a guy, a girl or both at the same time. What you do in your bedroom is your business, but after your coming out concert a couple weeks ago, every time we played 'Silver Streaks' we got a shit-load of phone calls telling us to, and I quote, 'get that fag off the air.'

"And, this is just between us, Cliff," he continued, "and I'll deny I told you if it gets back to my boss, but the manager of our number one sponsor in town, Radian Enterprises, told my boss that if we continued to play your stuff, he'd stop advertising with us."

"Don't worry, Dan," I said, "I won't make you lie to your boss. Thank you for telling me."

"You might try making a video, Cliff," he suggested. "I know that CNTV has been showcasing you in the news a lot the last few days, the music video channels might pick you up."

"I'll discuss it with Michael," I said.

"Well, my wife's expecting me at home, so I'd better get," he said. "Good luck, Cliff. I really am sorry the public is treating you this way."

"Thanks again, Dan. Have a good weekend."

I hung up and clicked the off button. I hadn't lied to him. He wouldn't have to lie to his boss, I had his voice on the computer. He wouldn't be able to deny anything he had said. Between what John and Dan had said, I had some ammunition to fight back. I just didn't know if Rex would let me use it. I knew Michael would be thrilled at this new information. I seriously wondered if even a long slow blow job would convince Rex to go along with my plan.

Using the recording equipment that I had in the room, I made a couple of copies of the recording onto cassette tapes. I would need one just in case something happened to the original computer file, which I also backed up onto a floppy, one to give to Felicia, one to give to Michael and one just to have so it could be played for anyone who wanted to hear it, from a cassette player instead of messing with the computer.

As I started dinner, I wondered if I really even wanted to bother. If the public was so shallow that they didn't want to hear me sing just because they found out I was gay, then was there really any point in trying to continue singing? They wouldn't buy anything new I came out with if the stores would even sell it.

I had just put the chicken in the oven to bake when the phone rang. I looked at the Caller-id display and sighed. It read 'out of area'. Probably someone trying to sell something, but it could have been Michael or Rex calling from their cellular phones. It was a little after five, they should be there shortly. "Hello?" I answered it.

"Hey, Cliff. This is Victor," he said. "Is Rex home yet? I tried his cellular but he's not answering."

"No he's not, Victor," I replied. "He might have had something to do that kept him at work a little longer than usual."

"Okay. Well, ask him to call me. We've received so many requests for a calendar that Preston is going to get his very own calendar for next year."

"This is late-October," I said, "shouldn't you have it done by now?"

"Well, normally we would have, but it was a last minute decision. If we can get a few shots this weekend, we'll make the Christmas rush. We've got enough photos for the months that don't have a holiday or anything special in them, but we need to shoot some for January, July, November and December. And we put up the order form on the web site this morning. We've already got about a hundred and fifty orders. We're informing everyone that it'll take six to eight weeks for delivery, so that will get us time to get them printed and to them before Christmas."

"By the skin of your teeth," I replied.

"Yeah. But it'll work."

"Okay. I'll have him call you. We're expecting company for dinner tonight, so it might not be until morning before he calls you."

"That's okay. I'm on my way home now, anyway.

"Oh, and Cliff," he said as I started to hang up.

"Yes?"

"I found out that it was Benny who leaked your stuff to the tabloid. He's been wanting to do a fuck-flick with Preston for a long time now, so he thought if your career were at stake, you might dump Rex and he'd do it. Of course, every guy on the set would love to get Preston up their ass, but he won't even let Carl touch him to put make up on it. He always insists on doing it himself."

"Thank you for telling me, Victor," I said.

"We've fired Benny. We can't guarantee he won't send more stuff to the tabloids, though. Anyone can download pics of Preston from the Internet, but at least he won't be getting photos of you two together when you're in the studio."

"That's good," I said.

"However, we really have received a lot of requests from the public wanting Preston to do a fuck-flick. The jerk-off video he did last month is still selling like hot cakes."

I chuckled. "Don't even try to get me to change his mind, Victor. I'm not the only reason that he's not going to do it."

"What if you were the one he fucks?" Victor asked.

"Goodbye, Victor," I said as I heard the garage door open. I knew that Rex was home, but I wasn't going to let Victor ruin my evening. "I'll have Rex call you."

I hung up and met Rex coming in the door to the kitchen. "Hi, honey," he said, softly. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him on the lips.

"Mm, I like it when you meet me at the door this way," he said, hugging me.

"I like greeting you at the door this way," I replied.

He rubbed my ass and said, "Do we have time for a quickie before dinner?"

"I wish," I said. "But Michael will be here soon."

He pulled away from me and got a beer out of the refrigerator and opened it. "I think I'll change clothes before he gets here," he said.

I followed him into the bedroom and watched as he undressed. He was such a hunk that I would have sworn he could make even a straight guy, or a lesbian, horny. Tossing his underwear in the dirty clothes basket, he slipped on a pair of skin tight jeans. He didn't bother putting on another pair of underwear. He knew that would drive me crazy. Leaving his jeans unbuttoned, he tucked his cock inside them and put on a clean long-sleeved shirt that he left unbuttoned, also. He stepped over to me. The thick soft black hair that covered his chest ran all the way down into his jeans and I could see his soft, black pubic hair where his jeans were still open. His cock pressed against his tight jeans, but I knew he hadn't even started to get aroused, yet. He kissed me and I ran my hands over his hard chest.

"You sure we don't have time for a quickie?" he asked, softly.

In response, I kissed him and ran my hands over his smooth back, underneath his shirt. We continued to kiss passionately as I rubbed his back, downward and underneath his tight jeans. They slipped down a little as I cupped his tight bottom. I loved the feel of his ass. There was just a little dusting of hair covering his ass cheeks, even though he had none on his back.

Continuing to kiss me, he picked me up and lay me gently on the bed. He slipped my shirt off over my head, then let his body press against mine. The warm hair felt like a soft blanket against my smooth skin. I also loved the feel of his mustache against my lips as we kissed.

Rex pressed his body against me and cupped my hip as we continued to kiss. "Oh, shit," he gasped as the door bell rang. We knew that would be Michael, he and my parents were the only people with the code to get in the gate. Anyone else would have buzzed from the gate.

"Sorry," I said. "I told you we didn't have time."

"Yeah, you were right," he said, rolling over onto his back. His hard cock strained against the tight material of his jeans. Reluctantly, I got up and headed for the front door, pulling my shirt back on as I walked.

Michael looked worse in person than he had on the news. He was pale. "Michael, when was the last time you ate?" I asked, pulling him in the door.

He sighed sleepily. I was surprised he had made it. The roads were getting slick since the sun had already started it's descent. "I think I had something for breakfast this morning," he replied, taking his coat off.

"A cup of coffee and a donut, right?" I asked.

He nodded and shrugged. "No time for lunch."

Rex was just coming into the living room from the hallway when I led Michael in. He had tucked his shirt in, but hadn't buttoned it all the way up. Although he had lost his boner, we could see the bulge through his tight jeans.

"Oh, shit, Michael," Rex said when he saw him, "you look awful."

"Thanks," he replied, with a weak smile. "I feel the same way."

"Dinner should be ready," I said. "Let's go in the kitchen and feed Michael, Rex. If he's got any energy left, we'll soak in the Jacuzzi for a while, if not, we'll put him to bed then you and I can soak in the Jacuzzi."

Michael sat down at the table and Rex helped me set the table. I had already put the plates and silverware out, but he helped me put the food on the table. Somehow, Michael managed to stay awake while we ate. I told Rex that Victor had called and what he had said about Benny.

"Fuck," he said throwing his napkin on the table. "I can believe it. He was always wanting to help me get it up. If I ever see that little ass-hole again, I'll beat the shit out of him."

"Calm down, Rex," I said, tenderly. I placed my hand on his. "It's okay. I've got you, that's what's important."

"Yeah, but you've always wanted to sing, Cliff," he said.

"Well, we might try for a music video," I said, glancing at Michael. He took a sip of tea and nodded.

"There's something else that Victor said," I said, looking at Rex.

"Oh?" he asked, worriedly.

I grinned. "It's partially bad news, but mostly good news."

He sighed. "Baby, give me the bad news first. I'll probably need some cheering up after it. I'm about ready to beat the shit out of him, too."

I leaned over and kissed him. "Your temper is going to get you in trouble one of these days," I said.

He smiled and said, "That's why I need you around, Cliff. You keep me out of trouble. Fess up, what'd he say?"

"He wants you to do another photo shoot this weekend."

He glanced down at his empty plate and sighed. "No, I'm not in the mood to. It's snowing again and Michael's going to be asleep in his plate in a minute if we don't get him to bed. I just want to light a fire in the fireplace and sit and hold you while we watch it snow."

"Mm, I like that idea," I said. I leaned over to kiss him.

"Now, what's the good news?" he asked.

I glanced at Michael. He had propped his chin up and was trying to stay awake while he listened to us talk. "You could get your very own calendar for next year, but only if you go in for the photo shoot this weekend. They have to shoot some photos for the holiday months."

Rex's handsome face lit up. Then he frowned and looked at me. "You wouldn't be shitting me about this, would you, Cliff?" he asked suspiciously. "You know I'd love to have a whole year to myself."

I took his hand in mine. "Now, Rex, do you think that I would kid about something that important to you? Of course, I guess I shouldn't have even told you he called. After all, this means that I have to give up a whole weekend of sitting in front of the fireplace in your arms, watching it snow, just so the public can get a calendar of you nude."

He grinned and leaned over and kissed me. "Thank you for telling me, baby," he said, softly. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

I ran my hand down the side of his handsome face. "I love you," I whispered and kissed him again.

He pulled back and we both looked at Michael. He was almost asleep. "Come on, Michael," I said. "Let's get you to bed."

He didn't argue. Michael followed me into the guest room. I pulled the cover back on the bed and went into the bathroom and turned on the light. "There are clean towels above the toilet for you," I said. "You don't need to take a shower now, just get to bed."

While I talked he removed his clothes. "Thanks, Cliff. I hope I can get some rest tonight."

Leaving his underwear on, he headed for the bathroom. He hugged me as he stepped into the bathroom and I said. "I do, too. I have something we can discuss tomorrow, so don't worry about my future. You get your rest."

"Okay. Thanks." He said and stepped up to the toilet.

With his back to me, I heard him start to relieve himself, so I said, "Goodnight, Michael. Call me if you need anything."

Rex stepped in just as I reached the door. "He okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, he's in the bathroom. I hope he can get some rest."

"I'm sure he will," Rex said as Michael came out of the bathroom. Michael turned off the bathroom light and headed for the bed. He crawled in and said, "Thanks again, guys. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Michael," Rex said. I turned off the light and closed the door.

"I put the food up and the dishes in the sink," Rex said, pulling me into our bedroom. I had planned on going back to the kitchen and cleaning it up.

"Thanks," I said, turning toward the door to go back to the kitchen. I could hear the water running in the bathroom, but knew it would take a while for the Jacuzzi to fill up.

He closed the door, blocking my exit. "Now, where were we before Michael got here?" he asked, leaning down to kiss me.

"Over there," I said, pointing to the bed.

He grinned and kissed me. He slipped my shirt off, then unbuttoned my pants and dropped them. Kneeling in front of me, he removed my shoes and socks. I used his shoulders as support while he removed them. He pulled my underwear down and took my throbbing organ in his hot mouth as I stepped out of them.

After sucking me for a few moments, he kissed his way up my smooth, hairless stomach and chest. I loved the feel of his mustache against my skin. He flicked his hot tongue across my erect nipple and suckled it for a moment. "I love you," he whispered. He kissed me on the lips and, picking me up, carried me into the bathroom while we continued to kiss.

Our bathroom was a made up of two rooms. The first was a long narrow vanity. To the left were two sinks with a nice large mirror over them. On the right, there was a long closet that was large enough for Rex and me to share.

Swinging half-doors separated the bathroom from the vanity. These doors supplied basically no privacy, they were just there for decoration, I figured. The bedroom, vanity and bathroom had obviously been designed with a woman in mind. I was sure that the designer would shit a brick if he knew a gay couple was enjoying it.

The bathroom itself was fairly large. The toilet was enclosed behind a wall to the left of the doors. A shower stall that the designer had made big enough for a couple to take showers together and also have their own shower head, set to the right of the door. The glass door to the shower stall provided no privacy at all. In the corner at the back of the room, a large, sunken Jacuzzi looked out over the backyard through twin floor-to-ceiling windows. Even though the back yard did have a ten-foot security privacy fence around it, we had blinds over the windows so no one could look over the fence and possibly take photos of us in the Jacuzzi.

The Jacuzzi held four people comfortably, but we had never had company over to join us in it. Michael would have been the first, but he was probably already asleep.

Rex placed me gently in the Jacuzzi and removed his shirt. I reached up and undid his pants. He was rock hard by the time I pulled his pants down. I didn't wait to get them off him before taking his hard organ as far into my small mouth as I could. Using my shoulders for support, Rex stepped out of his jeans. He placed his hands on the back of my head and kept his cock in my mouth while he stepped into the tub, then he pulled away from me and sat down next to me. He kissed me passionately on the lips for a few minutes, then reached down between my legs and spread them, caressing my asshole with his large fingers.

"Mm," I moaned. "That feels so good, baby."

Using the bubbling water, he lubed me up. He pulled his finger out of my hole and reinserted it with a second finger, the whole time kissing me on the lips and probing my mouth with his hot tongue.

Rex removed his two fingers, then he slowly reinserted them again, adding a third this time. I knew I was ready for him then. Without saying a word, he pulled his fingers out of my ass and pushed me onto my back, forcing my head against the edge of the Jacuzzi. Spreading my legs, he raised up and positioned himself between them. It was difficult for him to see what he was doing under the bubbling water, so he grabbed me by the small of my back and lifted my ass out of the water. Holding me up with one hand, he took his cock in the other and gently pressed it against my love hole. I gasped as the head of it pushed past my muscle and he stopped. "You okay, babe?" he asked, his voice coming from the depths of his throat.

"Yeah, I'm ready," I said, wiggling my bottom against him. He eased himself a little further in.

My eyes rolled back in my head as he slid slowly in. He was so big and he felt so good. It was the first time in our six months together he hadn't used a condom. I wasn't going to stop him to make him get one, either. This was also the first time we'd ever gone this far in the Jacuzzi. Usually I'd just play with him under water and when we were ready to go all the way, we'd get out and go to bed or lie on the floor beside the Jacuzzi.

"Oh, baby, your ass feels so good," he gasped, letting go of my back and lying down on top of me. He kissed me and I wrapped my arms and legs around him. I started bucking my ass against him as he plunged into me.

"And your dick is so big," I replied, between kisses.

A few minutes later, I broke the kiss and he pushed himself up a little. I realized then that he was on his hands and knees and I was holding myself on his hard cock and against his massive body. My head lay on the floor beside the tub, but my body wasn't even touching the floor of the Jacuzzi. He had stopped fucking me and I was doing all the work, pumping my ass up and down on his shaft.

He grinned at me and placed his hand on my ass, stopping my pumping. "I'm about ready to cum," he said. "Let's get out of here so I can get a condom. I need to get off my knees, too. This Jacuzzi is killing them."

"Okay," I said. Reluctantly, I relaxed and let him slip out of my ass. He got up and turned the water off, the tub wasn't completely full yet.

We dried each other off. I spent a little extra time drying his chest, stomach and public region. I loved the feel of his soft body hair against me, but when it was wet and matted to him, it wasn't as pleasing to the touch.

I lay down on our king-sized bed and rolled over onto my back. He grabbed a condom out of the drawer in the night stand, ripped it open and I helped him slip it on. "Oh, baby," he whispered as I fondled his balls after we got it on, "I'm sorry to say this, but I'm really glad that you didn't stay on tour. I missed you so much those two days you were gone."

I wrapped my hand around his rod and pulled him to me. "I missed you, too," I replied.

He spread my legs and pushed them back against my sides. Taking his organ in his hand, he guided it back into my love hole. I was still ready for him. Rex lay down on top of me and started pumping as he kissed me on the lips. Missionary style was my favorite position when we made love not only because I could kiss him while he fucked me, but I also got to feel his warm hairy body against mine.

I placed my hands on his hips and pulled him in deeper as he started to speed up a little. "I'm cumming," he gasped between kisses.

"Fill me up with that big dick," I replied.

"I love you, Cliff," he whispered as I felt his cock expand inside me.

"I love you, too, Rex," I replied. He kissed me hard on the lips and I felt his cock blast it's load deep into the condom inside me.

Rex gasped for air and collapsed on top of me. I buried my face in his neck and he nuzzled my neck. "You're the best, babe," he whispered and kissed me on the cheek.

"Be careful, sweetheart," I said, hugging Rex.

He kissed me on the lips. "I will. I love you. I'll call you when I get there."

"Okay."

It had stopped snowing sometime during the night. The bright sun sparkled off the snow and hurt my eyes as I watched Rex back his blue and silver Trans Am out of the garage. He had called Victor while I made breakfast that morning and had scheduled the final shoot for next year's calendar for that day. Michael had still been asleep when Rex left.

The road crew had come by earlier and plowed the road out front. Rex had bought some kind of de-icer that he put on the driveway the day before, so he didn't have to shovel his way out to the road. Luckily for him, he had decided to put it all the way out to the street on the outside of the gate, because the road crew had thrown the snow up on the entrance to the gate and he would have had to shovel it off before he could get out had he not.

Michael's car sat in the circular drive, so it wasn't in the way of Rex leaving. Even though Rex had put the de- icer on the driveway, Michael's car had not been protected and it was covered in snow. It looked odd for the car to be covered but the drive underneath it was just wet.

I waited until Rex was gone and closed the garage door and went back into the kitchen. I hoped that Michael was getting a good rest. He really needed it. After doing the dishes, I went to the bedroom and made the bed, then I went to my office and logged onto the Internet to check my e- mail. I had not had a chance to show Rex the video of the news cast, but had told him about it. He said he'd watch it when he got home, but not until after we made love. I had wanted to go to the photo shoot with him to make sure that no one tried anything and to keep him boned, but we both figured that I should stay home in case Michael woke up. He would need to eat when he woke up, so I had to stay to make sure he ate.

After checking out the new form on the Stallion Studios web site, I logged off and went into the living room and sat down on the couch to watch the news. I couldn't wait until I could show Michael what I had gotten from the radio station.

I grabbed the cordless as it rang and glanced at the Caller-id display, it was out of area. "Hello?" I said.

"Hey, babe," Rex said. "It's a mess out there, but I just got here. I'm on my way into the building now."

"Too bad the road crew didn't spread the de-icer you got, huh?" I asked.

"Yeah. That would have been nice. Is Michael up yet?"

"No. I hope he's getting a good rest, though."

"Yeah, me too. Okay, hon, I'll call you when I leave so you can get your ass lubed up and be ready for me."

"Well, I'll be more than happy to get my ass lubed up for you, babe," I replied, "but what if Michael is still here?" I hadn't planned on Michael leaving until Monday morning. I wanted to make sure he was well-rested before he went back to work.

"He can either watch TV or take a nap until we're done," he replied. "Hell, as horny as I'm going to be, he can even watch if he wants to, but no cameras."

"Yeah, right," I replied with a chuckle. I knew Rex wouldn't let Michael watch us have sex, but I wondered if Michael would want to.

"The elevator's here, babe," Rex said. "I've gotta go."

"Okay, I love you," I said.

"I love you, too, sweetheart," he replied and hung up. The elevators at the Plaza were encased in steel or something and cell phones would lose their signal inside them.

I glanced at the clock on the VCR. I hadn't put my watch on after doing the dishes, so I wasn't wearing it. It was almost ten. I dialed Bryan and Gary's number. I hadn't talked to them since we had gotten back from the concert and hadn't realized how much I had missed them until I saw them on TV the day before.

"Mm, hello?" Bryan asked, sleepily.

"Hi, Bryan," I said, softly. I glanced toward the hallway, hoping that Michael was still asleep. I knew that I had awakened Bryan. I grinned and asked, "You got a hard on?"

I could tell Bryan stretched as I heard him yawn. "Yeah, Cliff, I sure do, babe. I wish you were here to suck on it, too. You doing okay? You and Rex didn't break up did you?"

"I'm doing fine and no, Rex and I didn't break up. I saw you on the news yesterday and realized how much I've missed you and Gary."

"Yeah, we've missed you, too, sweetheart," he said. "I've thought about calling you a few times but didn't really know what to say."

"I know what you mean, Bryan," I replied. "I do have a plan though, I'm not sure if it will work or not."

"Oh? What's that?"

"I called the radio station yesterday and recorded what John said about my music, then I called the main number and recorded what Dan told me. If Michael and Rex will let me, I'll go have a little talk with Felicia Good at CNTV. I'm sure she'll love to hear what they had to say."

"So would Gary and I," Bryan replied. "What did they say?"

"Mm, well, I'll wait for you to hear it, but maybe it's enough to get our fans riled up so much that the radio station will either start playing our stuff or they will get fired, or the people who don't want to hear our stuff get riled up enough that we'll be run off the planet."

"So in other words, you're going to stir up some shit," he confirmed.

"Something like that," I replied. "But it is possible that Rex won't let me do it. And, to be honest with you, Bryan, I don't know if I want to or not."

"Well, what ever you decide to do, babe, Gary and I are one-hundred percent behind you."

"Thanks, Bryan. I'm glad that you and Gary didn't go bonkers on me like Tommy did."

"Have you tried to call him?" he asked.

"No. I am going to call Garland. Michael said that Tommy was supposed to audition for a rock band last night, but the band is into stuff that Tommy doesn't need to be around. I know that I could never talk to Tommy again, but maybe Garland can talk some sense into him."

"Gary tried to call him a couple of times, but he won't talk to him, either. I've kept in touch with Garland. He's thinking about putting the bus up for sale."

"Yeah. That's what Michael said."

"I hope it doesn't have to go that far, but I do understand how you feel about not getting on stage again."

"Well, I'd better let you go," I said. "I just wanted to call and see how you're doing. What are you still doing in bed, anyway?" I asked.

"Michael didn't tell you?"

"No."

"We haven't received the reimbursement for our equipment yet, but Michael went ahead and got us some new stuff. Gary and I didn't see any point in mentioning it on the news cast yesterday, but we played at Collier's Nite Club last night. We played until about one. Got home about three."

"How was the turn out?"

"Pretty good, actually. We decided to call ourselves 'The Cowboys'. If anyone recognized us as your band, they didn't bother us. Everyone seemed to enjoy what we played. We both sang and it worked out pretty good."

"I'm glad to hear that, Bryan," I said, sincerely. "At least if I don't come back, you can continue without me and you do still have the bus."

"Yeah. But it won't be the same without you, babe."

"I know. I'll miss you guys, too."

"Cliff?" Bryan asked, softly.

"Yes?"

"If you and Rex ever do break up, is there a possibility that we can get together?"

"Of course, Bryan," I replied as the blood rushed to the center of my body. "I do love you. But Bryan," I added, "please don't wait for me. I am not planning on letting Rex go and I know there are a lot of guys out there who would love to have you."

"Thanks, babe," he said, still talking softly. "Mm, I do wish you were here to take care of this boner, though. Just hearing your voice is really making me horny."

I couldn't believe how horny I was getting hearing his voice, too. The image of him and Gary lying in bed stroking their rods on the bus that morning filled my mind's eye. "I'd better let you go so you can take care of it," I said. "I'll call you this afternoon after Rex gets home and if it's not snowing, maybe you can come over and we'll see what to do about the band's future."

"Mm," he moaned, I could tell he had already started stroking his cock, "if you're alone, why don't we jerk off together over the phone?" he asked. "It wouldn't be cheating that way."

"I'd better not, Bryan. Besides, Michael is here, he might get up."

"Okay. I love you, Cliff," he said. "I'll talk to you later."

"I love you, too, Bryan. I'll call you when Michael decides what he wants to do."

I hung up and sighed. I couldn't believe that my feelings for Rex, Bryan, Gary and Michael were stirring me up so much. There was no doubt in my heart or my head that Rex was the only man in the world for me, but the others had my hormones on over-load. If I were to lie down in bed and the four of them came to me and each one made love to me at the same time or one right after another, I know I'd have died and gone to heaven.

Closing my eyes, I leaned my head on the back of the couch. "This can't be happening," I whispered to myself.

"What's wrong, Cliff?" Michael asked, sitting down next to me.

I looked at him. He only wore his underwear. He looked so sexy with his morning growth of beard and his tousled hair, that I just knew that my cock was going to explode. Somehow it didn't. I'd seen him this way a few times before and had usually given him a blow job when I did. I couldn't do that this morning.

"Morning," I said, tenderly. He leaned against the back of the couch and let his arm touch mine. "How'd you sleep?" I asked, ignoring his question.

"Great," he replied. He looked like he'd gotten a good rest, but was still pale.

He put his arm around me and pulled me against his hairy chest. "Mm, I wish you could give me a blow job, babe," he whispered.

I kissed him on the cheek and rubbed his chest. "Maybe after Rex gets home," I replied.

I pushed myself away from him as he gave me a surprised look. "You are joking, right?" he asked.

I grinned and shrugged. "Want some breakfast?"

"Yeah, I'm starved," he replied. He was still looking at me, wondering why I had said that, but I didn't volunteer any information. After all, I really didn't think Rex would let him watch us have sex, so I didn't want to get his hopes up. I also knew that even if Rex let him watch, I wouldn't get to blow him. Again, my hormones were stirring. I didn't want to cheat on Rex. I loved him. But I loved Michael, too. I wondered if Rex actually let me suck Michael's dick, if I would even want to.

I sighed. How could I be thinking these thoughts? I chided myself. Rex was the only man for me. Trying to regain control over my hormones, I put my hand on Michael's arm and pulled him to his feet. He grabbed me and kissed me. I wiggled free of his hold and headed for the kitchen. He followed.

"I just talked to Bryan," I said, taking the eggs out of the refrigerator. "He said that they played at Collier's last night and had a good turnout. No one seemed to recognize them."

"That's good," Michael said, sitting down on a bar stool.

"Yeah. I told him that they could come over this afternoon after Rex gets home. He went to do the photo shoot for the calendar."

I poured him a cup of coffee. "I've got some information for you, Michael."

"Oh? What's that?" he asked and took a sip of coffee.

I put a couple of slices of toast in the toaster as I said, "I called the radio station yesterday."

"You didn't?" he asked, worriedly.

"Yeah, I did," I replied, grinning. I turned the burner up a little on the sausage then mixed up a couple of eggs in a bowl. "Since I have the voice mail slash telephone program on the computer, I recorded what they said, too. You're going to be thrilled with these two conversations, Michael."

"What are you waiting for?" he asked, his handsome face lighting up. "Let's go hear it."

I smiled and shook my head. "I'll bring you a cassette to listen to while you eat," I said.

"Oh, all right," he reluctantly agreed.

"Did you see the report Felicia did yesterday?" I asked. "You told me you hoped I had seen it, but you never told me if you did."

"Yeah. I saw it right before I called you. That was the first time they aired it. I was hoping that it would stir up Portland some, especially since it was so obvious that Bryan said, 'fucking assholes' even though they bleeped him out, but as of five o'clock yesterday, I hadn't heard anything from them."

"I recorded it for Rex the second time I noticed it come on, but never got around to showing it to him after he got home yesterday." I didn't explain why.

"The second time they cut out the live part of Felicia's interview with the announcer where she was standing outside my office. They replaced it with her in the studio with the lady who was on at that time and she asked her the same questions and Felicia gave her the same answers. Every time after that, they were going to just re- air the studio scene and not do any more live shots. They could get away with that because the lady said, 'we'll be back with sports right after this', and any viewer would just think she was there just to talk to Felicia after her story. Of course, if you saw it once, you'd know it was pre-recorded the next time you saw it."

"At least all the information they showed was basically pro-me," I said, "except for Tommy and what happened in Portland, that is."

"Yeah. And, depending on what you recorded, that I wish you'd hurry up and go get," he said as I put his breakfast onto his plate, "we might be able to make it even more pro-you."

I set the plate in front of him. "Okay, I'll go get it, you eat."

As I walked by him he grabbed me and pulled me into his arms. He still only wore his white cotton briefs. "Thank you for dinner last night, a good night's rest and breakfast this morning," he said and kissed me on the lips.

"You're welcome," I replied, pushing him away. I couldn't believe he kept kissing me. Before I met Rex, he always wanted to be drunk first. "I just don't want you getting sick. Now eat," I said.

"Okay."

He turned around and began to eat while I went into my office to get the tape player and cassette. While he ate, I sat on another bar stool across from him and we listened to the conversations I had recorded.

"Wow, John will definitely be fired or the station burned down, after that remark," Michael said as the recording began to play the out-going ring before Rebecca had answered.

He ate and listened intently while I spoke to Rebecca. He grinned at me when the tape reached the part where I was put on hold. "Good show, Cliff," he said. "That was sneaky," he added, referring to how I had made Rebecca think I was a friend of Dan's and got to speak to him without ever telling her my name.

"Thank you," I replied.

He grinned when Dan told me the secret that would get him fired. I turned off the recorder and he smiled. "I think Felicia will be thrilled to hear that little recording," he said.

"The only problem is," I said, "I don't know if Rex will let me do it."

Michael ejected the tape and held it up. "What he don't know won't hurt you."

I snatched the tape from him. "It might," I replied. "I won't let you go to Felicia until after I have talked to Rex about this. Rex is going to have to be my body guard through this, Michael. Of you, Gary and Bryan, he's the only one even remotely physically strong enough to keep me from getting killed. If he doesn't want to protect me from what might happen if we do this, I can't risk it."

Michael sighed. "You're right," he agreed. "I'm sorry. I'll wait until you talk to him. I'm worried enough about you that I don't want you running around outside that fence out there without him."

"Then I'd better not tell you that I went to the store yesterday after I talked to you, had I?" I asked, rewinding the tape.

A look of fear crossed his handsome face. "Don't do that, babe," he said. "I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you and neither would Rex."

"Don't worry," I replied. "I will never do that again."

"What happened?" he asked, pushing his empty plate out of the way.

I picked it up and put it in the sink. "I did just fine until I got in the check out line," I explained. "No one seemed to recognize me until Rex called. I had my cell phone with me. When it rang, everyone looked at me and a lady in the next line recognized me. Her son is gay and happens to be my number one fan.

"Unfortunately," I continued, "the latest issue of 'The Weekly Reporter' was on the counter and I've made the front page again, so everyone in all three lines knew who I was by the time she got to me. I autographed her copy of the rag and the manager showed up and sent everyone back into line before anyone else could approach me. He stayed at the check out stand and carried my groceries out."

"Good thing he showed up," Michael said.

"Yeah, it is," I agreed. "But don't worry, Michael, I'll have Rex go get groceries or I'll go with him from now on. At least until 'The Weekly Reporter' gets tired of me, anyway."

"I guess you didn't get to see what the 'Reporter' was saying about you this time, did you?" he asked and took a sip of coffee.

"No. Just that I haven't been seen since the concert and that the radio stations refused my new single."

"For once they're reporting the truth," Michael said. "That's unusual."

I chuckled and got up and poured myself another glass of milk. "Actually, 'The Weekly Reporter' has been reporting the truth since all this began. The only lie they printed was when we brought them in to explain what was 'really' going on between Rex and me. I am surprised they haven't contacted you looking for an explanation of that story."

He grinned. "What makes you think they haven't?" he asked.

"What'd you tell them?" I wanted to know.

"My secretary is better at screening calls than Rebecca is," he replied. "She would have told them to call me at home if they tried a stunt like you pulled on Dan."

"Yeah, sometimes Hilda acts like she doesn't believe me when I call you and I tell her that it's me. When she does that, I just tell her to have you call me and you have my number. Except for the past two weeks, you've always called me back, so I guess it's worked."

"Well, I would have called you before yesterday but I have been busy, Cliff. I wasn't ignoring you, totally. However, I have never talked to or returned the calls from 'The Weekly Reporter'."

I placed my hand on his cheek. His morning beard wasn't as soft as Rex's, but he still looked good with it. "I can let you use a razor if you want to shave," I said as we heard the garage door open.

"No, that's okay," he said. "I brought a suitcase, I just left it in the car."

"Oh. Well, it's covered in snow," I said. "If you want I'll run get it while you take a shower."

"Are you saying I stink?" he asked.

I grinned and kissed him on the lips as the door opened and Rex walked in. "No," I replied. "I just thought you'd feel better if you got a shower and shaved."

"Thanks," he said and kissed me again.

I felt Rex's hand on my back and broke the kiss and looked up into his eyes. "Hi, honey," I said.

"Hello. Am I interrupting something here?" he asked. It surprised me that there was no jealousy or anger in his eyes, especially since he had just caught me kissing Michael, who sat across from me in nothing but his white cotton briefs.

I stood up and put my arms around Rex's neck as I replied, "No. You are actually just in time to hear the tape I recorded yesterday afternoon when I called the radio station."

Rex put a hand on my hip and kissed me on the lips. He pulled me closer to him and pressed his crotch against me. I hadn't noticed until then that he was erect. "I gotta fuck you first, babe," he said, softly, yet loud enough for Michael to hear. "Victor thought I had to do every shot boned so I had to think about your little ass, now I've got to get inside it or I'll never go limp again."

"Did you have to use a lot of makeup?" I asked, between kisses.

"No. I got enough of the tanning bed this week that I didn't need any at all. I didn't even have to work up a sweat, so I don't need a shower first, either. I also lucked out that they were able to get every shot without any re-takes. That's why it didn't take but a couple of hours."

"That's good," I replied.

Rex picked me up and swung me around and headed for the hall door. "If you'll excuse us for about an hour, Michael," he said, "we'll be as quiet as possible. You can get a shower in the guest room or go back to bed for a while. We'll go over the tapes when we get done."

Michael grinned and stood up. I noticed he was totally erect, too. "Well, okay," he said, reluctantly. "Are you sure you don't need any help?" he asked, squeezing his own hard organ through his tight briefs.

Rex grinned and shook his head. "No. Cliff can take care of this by himself, and I can take care of his by myself. You can go in the guest room and take care of that one yourself, though."

Without waiting for a reply, Rex carried me out the door and through the hall to our room. I closed the door as he kissed me, then he lay me gently on our king-sized bed.

An hour and a half later, I walked into the living room. Michael was asleep on the couch. The TV was on. He had taken a shower, shaved and gotten dressed. He had opened the curtains and I could tell by looking out the window that he had gone out to his car to get his suitcase. I didn't want to disturb him so I grabbed the tape from the VCR, dashed into the kitchen to get the tape recorder, then returned to the bedroom. Rex was just coming out of the bathroom when I walked in. "What's wrong, babe?" he asked. "You need some more?"

I grinned and placed the tape in the VCR, then slipped my shirt off. "If you want to," I replied. "I'm always ready for more of you. But Michael's asleep and I didn't want to wake him up. Do you want to make love again, watch the news clip from yesterday and listen to the tape I made when I called the radio station, or would you rather take a nap, or are you hungry?"

Rex was still nude and hadn't grown erect again. He grinned as he stepped over to me and said, "Choices, choices, choices. That's going to be tough."

"The choice is yours," I replied and kissed him on the lips.

He unbuttoned my pants and helped me out of them while he said, "Why don't you get out of these, then we can lie down and watch the news clip, then listen to the tape, then take a nap? When we wake up we can make love again, then go see if Michael's awake and have lunch."

"It'll be supper-time by then," I replied.

He didn't reply. He kissed me and picked me up and lay me on the bed. He pulled my briefs off then lay down next to me. I lay my head on his broad shoulder and he wrapped his arm around me. With his other hand, he used the Universal Remote to turn on the TV and the VCR. We watched the news clip in silence. As Michael had said, Felicia was in the studio with a woman who asked the same questions Jerry had in the earlier clip. The answers she gave were the same.

When the clip finished, Rex sighed and turned off the VCR then the TV. He picked up the tape player off the night stand and pressed play.

When the tape finished, he pressed rewind and set the player on the night stand, leaving it to stop on its own when it was done. "What do you want to do, babe?" he asked, softly.

"Michael wants to take the tape to Felicia Good and let her do an interview with me, letting the world hear the tape."

"But what do you want to do?" he asked again.

I snuggled a little closer against him and ran my hand through the thick soft hair on his hard chest. He pulled me closer and I replied, "I want to lie here with you like this forever and forget there's a world outside this room."

"Mm, I like that idea," he replied.

I ran my hand through the soft thick hair on his chest while he waited patiently for me to answer his question. I didn't know what to say. "I don't know, sweetheart," I finally said. "Part of me wants to go for it so I can keep singing, but there's another part that is scared to death about what might happen if I do. I haven't talked to Mom and Dad yet, either. I wanted to know what you thought before I called them."

"Well, honey, it's up to you. It's your decision. I'm here for you no matter what you decide to do."

I rolled up on top of him a little where I could look up at his handsome face. Resting my chin on my hand on his chest, I grinned. "But what do you think I should do?" I asked.

Rex looked at me thoughtfully for a moment before answering. It was unlike him not to have a response ready when I asked him what he thought about something. Maybe it was because this decision not only affected my happiness, but his own as well. And he also knew it wasn't a simple choice of whether to wear a red shirt or a blue one or where to go for dinner. This was a decision that would affect us more than anything we'd ever done before. Even buying the house and moving in together wasn't as difficult of a decision as this one. It wasn't as life threatening, either.

"I love you, Cliff," he finally said. "I want you to be happy. I know that you want to sing, but I also know that if you try to continue, you could be really hurt. And I'm not talking emotionally either. I'm talking people coming after you with guns and large objects. I might be able to fend off large objects, babe, but this great body you love so much, can't stand up to bullets very well.

"The choice is yours, sweetheart," he continued, "but I think you might want to go ahead and make a music video with Gary and Bryan. If the music television station and the public rejects it, then you'd better lie low for the rest of the year. When they forget you, then you can start looking for a job. I can support us just fine between my job and modeling and you won't need to work until you're ready, if ever. After you get the video made, you can go to Felicia and let her know that you're going to try it, but I wouldn't let her hear this tape."

"Why not?" I asked, frowning at him.

"Because, sweetheart," he said, tenderly, "if you did use this to make John and Dan lose their jobs, you'd be no better than they are. Also, as you know, Dan is married and has three kids, you wouldn't really want to have him out of a job this close to Christmas, would you?"

Rex and I had met Dan and his family at my first concert, which we had held at the coliseum a couple of weeks after my interview with Dan on the air. "No," I replied, looking down at my hands on his chest.

"I don't know anything about John," he said. "I don't listen to him, but you really don't want to ruin his life either, even though he's ruining yours. Dan did say that it's the public that doesn't want you. If John hadn't received those calls, he might not have said what he did when you called."

"That's true," I reluctantly agreed. I felt like a little boy whose father had scolded him in front of all his school friends, for even considering jeopardizing Dan and John's jobs. Unfortunately, I knew that Rex was right. I couldn't do that.

Fog swirled around the ground at my feet. I stood next to the building, watching and waiting. Pulling my heavy coat up to cover my ears, I trembled in the cold, damp air. No one was around. I was totally alone. The old building was abandoned now. It had been a service station in its day. Now, the windows were broken out and it had a eerie atmosphere to it. There were several old school buses and other cars that no longer ran in the yard behind the building. I felt like I was in some murder-suspense movie standing on the dock waiting for my informant as I stepped back in the shadows when a car pulled in and stopped.

I saw the lights of the car drive off and then he walked around the front of the old school bus that was closest to the entrance. He was lugging a large duffel bag. I stepped out of the shadows as he pushed the door of the bus open. "Hello, Tommy," I said, softly.

He looked at me. Fire flickered in his green eyes. "What do you want, Cliff?" he snapped.

"I just want to talk to you," I replied. "I tried to call a few times but you haven't called me back. I talked to Garland yesterday and he said you were leaving this morning. He said he'd be dropping you off about now. I know you don't want anything to do with me and, although it does hurt, I can respect that. But I would like for you to listen to what I have to say. I am not going to lecture you or anything."

"Good, because Garland's already done that and my mind is made up. Come on, it's too cold to be standing out here," he said. He climbed up the steps and I followed him.

I gasped at the stench of the bus. It reeked not only of marijuana and cigarette smoke, but also urine. "Shit, Tommy," I said, trying to hold my breath, "surely you're not going to ride in this, are you?"

He looked at me sadly. "I don't have a choice, Cliff," he said, softly.

"Yes you do, buddy," I said, tenderly. "I have arranged with Michael for us to do a music video of 'Moon Beams in Your Eyes'. I not only need your permission to do it, but I need you on drums.

"Tommy," I added, slowly, "I can't promise you that it will sell, but anything is better than this." I stepped off the bus and took a deep breath of crisp wet air and turned around to look at him. Tears were sliding down his cheeks. "Tommy," I said, "if the video doesn't sell, I will get a job and pay you to stay home and write music if you will not go on this bus. The way it smells you will be high as a kite before you get anywhere and so will the driver, even if he doesn't smoke. The roads are slick, Tommy, you could get killed in this thing.

"I'm not in love with you, Tommy," I added, "but I do love you and I care what happens to you. The offer is there, the choice is yours and you have to make it. You know how to get in touch with me."

I didn't wait for an answer, with tears streaming down my cheeks, I turned and headed to my car, which I had parked across the street from the old service station. I got in and closed the door and grabbed a Kleenex and blew my nose to get the stench out. I was surprised I hadn't thrown up. My passenger door opened as I tossed the soiled tissue into the trash and Tommy leaned over and looked in. "Going my way, buddy?" he asked.

I smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I sure am, buddy," I replied.

He tossed his bag in the back seat and got in. I handed him a Kleenex. "Thanks," he said. He blew his nose and tossed the tissue in the trash can.

"Actually, Cliff," he said, buckling his seat belt, "I didn't realize that the bus was that bad until this morning. When I saw it the other day they had the windows open and it was aired out pretty good. I guess it's all in the bedding."

"More than likely," I agreed, handing him my cell phone. "You'd better call somebody and let them know where you are."

He looked at his watch. "Too late. It's six-fifteen, they'll be here in a few minutes. Do you mind waiting?" he asked, hopefully.

"I'm not leaving without you now, Tommy," I promised. "I'll stick with you."

"From what I've heard about this band," he said, "I'm surprised they wanted to leave so early, but they're supposed to be in Seattle Saturday. It would only take two days in our bus, but this one might not even make it in four. They'll have to stop for gas more often, too."

"Yeah," I agreed as we noticed lights from a van turn into the parking lot.

"That's them," he said, unbuckling his seat belt. "Wish me luck. I'd rather do this on the phone, but they don't have a cell phone."

"I can call Rex if you want," I offered. "He's waiting for my call, if I need him. It'd only take a few minutes for him to get here. He wanted to come with me but I thought I'd better talk to you alone."

"I wish you had brought him," Tommy admitted, "but I think I'll be okay. Just have the car running and ready to go."

"Okay," I promised.

He got out. I started the car and rolled the passenger window down so I could hear what he said. I noticed three guys get out of the van. It was still fairly dark, so it was difficult to see them. One grabbed something that looked like a guitar case out of the back of the van, another, a couple of suitcases. "Yo, dude," the one with the suitcases said when Tommy walked up to them.

"Morning," he replied. I was surprised he didn't say dude, too.

"You ready for a road trip?" the guitar guy asked.

"Sorry to do this to you, guys," Tommy said, I could hear the reluctance in his voice, "but I'm not going to be able to stomach the bus. It stinks too much. Besides, I got an offer to make a video for one of my songs."

"Cool, dude," the suitcase holder said.

The third guy stepped in front of the van. I could see him better since they had left the headlights on. "What are you talking about, stinking bus?" he asked. His speech was a little slurred. I realized then he was holding a bottle of beer. From where I sat, I could tell it was open, but couldn't see how much had been drank.

"It smells like piss and grass," he replied. "I'm not going to get involved with a bunch of dope-heads that can't stop to take a piss. Probably get killed in a wreck if I went with you."

"Hey, who you calling dope-heads?" the one who was drunk demanded. The other two put down what they were holding and Tommy turned and dashed toward the car as they started toward him, yelling obscenities as they did. He jumped in and I didn't wait for him to buckle his seat belt or close the door before I sped off.

"Shit," Tommy said, looking back over his shoulder. "That was close."

"Almost too close," I said. I was thankful they didn't jump in the van and start after us.

Tommy settled into his seat and looked sadly out the window. We rode along in silence for a moment, then he picked up my cell phone and looked at it. "Can I make a call, Cliff?" he asked, softly.

"Sure," I replied. I knew he knew how to use it, so I didn't bother explaining how.

"Thanks." He dialed a number, held the phone to his ear and waited. "Sorry to wake you, Billy," he said, softly. "This is Tommy. I need to talk to you. Can I come over? . . . Okay. Thanks. I'll be there in about ten minutes."

He hung up and sighed. "Can you drop me off at Billy's apartment, Cliff?" he asked.

"Sure," I replied.

"Thanks." He gave me Billy's address and added, "I can either call Garland to pick me up or Billy will take me home. I know that you want to get to work on the video, but I really feel I need to get my friendship with Billy back before we do that. I've found out the last few weeks how few friends I do have, Cliff," he said, sadly. "I didn't realize that I've been a loner so much until I stopped hanging around with you and the guys. Garland's been mad at me for walking out on you and he's gotten himself a girlfriend, too. They don't want me hanging around. Of course, they'd never say anything but I know when they want to be alone.

"You might not know this, Cliff," he continued and looked sadly out the window, "but I wasn't wanted when I was born so it's pretty easy for me to tell when I'm in the way."

"What makes you say that?" I asked. I couldn't tell him that Garland had told me.

"Turn here," he instructed. I was thankful the road wasn't too slick, I slowed down and made a right hand turn.

He continued looking out the window and drummed his fingers on the door, before answering. I stole a glance at him and noticed a tear glisten in the dash light as it slid down his cheek. "When I was ten, " he finally said, "I got home and was cutting through the kitchen to the living room when I heard Dad tell someone on the phone that I wasn't home yet. I started to walk in the room and see who was looking for me, but stopped when Dad said, 'I don't know what his blood type is, I never can remember.' Apparently, the caller said something to the effect that it's supposed to be the same as his and he said, 'Well, he's not my son, so it's not the same as mine. I don't know who the guy is that knocked up my daughter and she doesn't know for sure who it was either. Turns out that she's fucked every guy on the football team and a few of the faculty at school. Could be any one of them. Since she didn't want to have a kid but she didn't use protection, her mother and I decided to just raise the kid as ours. He thinks she's his sister instead of his mother. Sometimes I wish that we'd just had him aborted. He can be a real pain sometimes and we're too old to be raising another kid.'"

I glanced over at Tommy, again. Now, tears were streaming down his cheeks. I couldn't believe he had remembered it word for word after fourteen years. But then, something that painful, I knew he'd never forget.

"I'm so sorry, Tommy," I said, tenderly. "What did you do? You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"No, it's okay," he replied, brushing the tears from his cheeks. "I rushed over to Garland's place. He wasn't home so I hid out on his back porch for a few hours until he got home. I never told him what I heard, but he seemed to like me around all the time so I've kept close to him. He's the only one in the family who even shows they care. That's why I know he's only pretending that it's okay for me to hang around when he wants to be alone with Amy, because he doesn't want to hurt my feelings. Times like that, I just tell him that I think they need to be alone and leave, he tries to get me to stay, but I respect him too much to do that.

"You know what the really sad thing is, Cliff?" he asked, sniffling back a tear.

"What's that?" I asked, turning into the parking lot of the complex Billy lived in. He motioned to a spot where I could park.

"I didn't realize it until you told me you're not in love with me but you love me and you care what happens to me, that I have been doing to Billy and you what they did to me. I really loved them, Cliff," he said, "but they didn't want anything to do with me just because I wasn't planned. You and Billy really love me and I didn't want anything to do with you just because you're gay. It's the same thing, none of us had any choice about us being here or being gay. We shouldn't punish those who do care about us because they're not like we think they should be."

I had been parked for a while by now. He took my hand in his and looked at it. He sighed. "I am really sorry, dude," he said. "If you'll have me as a friend and a drummer, I'd be honored to play behind you."

I smiled through my own tears. "I'd be honored to have you play behind me and to write songs for me," I replied.

I unbuckled my seat belt and reached over to hug him and added, "I'm also very thankful that you weren't aborted, Tommy."

He buried his face in my neck. "Thank you so much, Cliff," he whispered. We held each other for a few minutes then I pulled away from him. We were still in tears. I got us both a Kleenex and handed him one and blew my nose.

"Call me when you're ready to talk video," I said as he opened the door. "Rex has to work today, but we can meet at Michael's office or my house. Gary and Bryan will be there, too."

"I'll call you this afternoon," he promised.

I watched Tommy get his bag out of the car and walk up to the door closest to where I had parked. It opened as soon as he reached it, apparently Billy had been looking for him.

The young man who stood there didn't look any older than Tommy. His black hair was combed neatly, but he only wore a brown robe.

To my surprise, Tommy dropped his duffel bag and hugged him. Billy seemed a bit reluctant to return the hug at first, but did. After they held each other for a moment, Tommy pulled back and picked up his bag. He noticed I was still there, so he smiled and gave me a thumbs-up. I nodded and he went into the apartment and Billy closed the door.

I picked up my cell phone and dialed home.

"Cliff?" Rex asked expectantly, on the first ring.

"Hi, honey," I said. "I'm on my way home. I'll be there in about twenty minutes, but I'll call if I have any problems."

"What happened? Are you okay? Twenty minutes? You're not that far off are you?"

"Calm down, sweetheart," I said, backing out of the parking spot. "I rescued Tommy from the clutches of death and delivered him to his friend, Billy's, house. Tommy gave him the cold shoulder like he did me, when he found out that he is gay, but he's realized who his real friends are. He will be glad to back me up on the video, but he needs to get his friendship with Billy mended before he does that.

"Rex," I said, softly as I pulled out into the street. "I can't even begin to tell you how relieved I was when Tommy opened my car door and asked if I was going his way, this morning. I was so scared that he would go on that bus. It stunk of piss and grass. It was awful."

"You're kidding?" Rex said, bewildered. "I'm glad you got him out of there, too, then, babe."

"Yeah, me too. I'll be home in a little while, sweetheart. I'll need to call Michael after you go to work to set up a meeting to see when we can start working on the video."

"Okay. I'll be waiting here by the phone for you to call. How slick is it?"

"Not too bad," I replied, "but it just started snowing again. I might see if I can sweet-talk Michael or the guys to pick me up when we're ready to discuss the video."

"Okay, but go light on the sweets. I know Michael wants to fuck you again. I got the hint that he was really disappointed I didn't let him join us Saturday."

"Don't worry, sweetheart," I said, "I won't have sex with anyone but you unless you are there and you suggest it. And, since I know you're not into threesomes, that will never happen."

Rex chuckled. That deep sexy chuckle that always turned me on. "Maybe we should have Michael, Bryan and Gary over and have an orgy. I could fuck your little ass doggy- style while you sucked on their cocks and they sucked on yours. Since you said Michael wants my dick up his ass, and you also said that Bryan is the same size as me, Bryan could pound Michael's ass while Michael sucks on Gary, like the dream you had of Bryan and Gary, only Michael would be in the middle instead of you."

"Honey, you're making me horny," I said. "Michael has never had a cock up his ass before. I don't think he's ever sucked one either. I know I never could get him to suck mine."

"Too bad," Rex said, softly. "I love sucking on yours."

"I'd better hang up before I get in trouble," I said, turning onto the road that would take me home. "I'll see you in a few minutes. You'd better be as boned as I am because you've got to take care of me before you go to work."

"Standing at attention, waiting for your little ass to get home," Rex said with another deep chuckle.

"I'll be there in a minute," I said and hung up without saying goodbye.

I steered the car through the gate. Rex had already opened my garage door for me. I pulled in and dashed into the house. Rex had been dressed and ready to either come get me or go to work when I had left at six o'clock that morning. We had taken a quick shower, gotten dressed and I had made a quick breakfast so we wouldn't have to worry about eating after I got back, but when I rushed into the kitchen, he sat on a bar stool, stark naked with a raging hard on. He grinned at me and asked, "What took you so long?"

"I had to wait for the gate to open," I replied. I kissed him on the lips, then kissed my way down through the thick soft hair to his midsection. I took as much of his hard rod into my mouth as I could and began to suck slowly.

He moaned and whispered, "Oh, yeah, baby, suck my dick."

I flicked my tongue across the ridge at the base of the head and he gasped. "Oh, honey, I love the way you suck my dick, but what I really need is to shove it up your tight little ass."

Taking his hard rod in my hand, I raised up and kissed him on the lips. Pulling him off the bar stool, I lead him into the bedroom.

Moonlight glistened off the pool of water, dancing in the cold breeze. Snow crunched beneath my feet as I stepped slowly toward the water's edge. Music began to play and I looked sadly into the water at the reflection of the moonlight. Gary hit the note that was my cue and I began to sing. Not worrying about how far, or if, my voice carried, I crooned out the sad song that Tommy had written about a lover who had left me, and the last thing I remembered was seeing, the 'Moonbeams in Your Eyes'.

As I sang the song, I walked slowly around the pool of water, the snow crunching beneath my feet. When there were no words for me to sing, I would snuggle a little deeper into the warm down coat I wore, making it appear that I was cold without the lover's arms to hold me. When I finished the song, I turned sadly and walked slowly away from the edge of the water as the music continued to play, but began to fade slowly to nothing.

"That was great, Cliff," Michael said when the music stopped. "I will have to look at it and do some editing to the tape, but I don't really think we'll need any retakes. You did a great job of ignoring the cameras. A lot of first-timers have the tendency to look at the cameras too often."

"Thank you, Michael," I said, glancing over at Tommy. He, Bryan, Gary and Rex had been sitting on a park bench next to the hike and bike trail, watching my performance. The music had been from a tape. Michael had picked the local park for us to video tape the music video. We had been lucky that the little pond had not been frozen and there had been a full moon out that night. We could have inserted those effects into the tape via computer later, but I felt I could do a better job if they were actually there, since it was my first video.

Tommy smiled and came over to where Michael and I stood. "You did a great job, Cliff," he said. "I can't wait to see the tape."

"I can't either," I admitted.

Rex put his hand on my back, "What were you thinking about to look so sad, babe?" he asked, softly.

I put my arm around him and looked up into his blue eyes. "How I would feel if you left me that way," I explained.

He smiled and leaned down and kissed me. Everyone knew we were lovers, so it didn't matter if we showed our love for each other in public anymore. "I'll never leave you, babe," he whispered. "I love you too much."

"I love you, too, Rex," I replied and we kissed again.

"Okay, you two break it up," Michael said. "We've got some flash back scenes to film, but we've got the scenery set up in the studio for those so we don't have to freeze our nuts off out here. Why don't we meet at the studio at nine in the morning to get to work on those? We'll need the band then, too." He glanced at Tommy. "I've got you a new set of drums, also, Tommy."

Tommy grinned. "Cool."

Michael looked at me and said, "Don't worry, Cliff, you did a great job, but no one gets to see the tape until it's completed."

"But Michael," I protested.

"Not even you," he replied.

"Why not?" I demanded. "It's my video, and since it's Tommy's song, he has the right to see it developed."

"I don't want you thinking you did a bad job and mess up later. It's looking great now, and when it's all put together, we'll all sit down and watch it together. When it's finished, if any of you think anything needs to be added or deleted at that point, we'll discuss it."

"It's okay, Cliff," Tommy said, softly. "It's going to turn out great."

"If you're sure, Tommy," I replied.

"I am," he confirmed.

As Rex and I stepped up into the little trailer that I was using as a dressing room, I realized that Tommy hadn't used, 'dude' and 'cool' as often as he had previously. He was also letting the sides of his hair grow out.

Rex watched me remove my stage make up and asked, "How'd you enjoy doing that?"

"It was fun," I replied. "I know that they'll lay the voice and sound track over what I did, so it won't be what I sang tonight that winds up on the final version, but that's okay. It really was fun. I'm also glad that Michael didn't insist on using the studio for tonight's footage. I enjoyed being out here to do it."

"Has he told you exactly what he wants for the finished product?"

"Basically. As you know, we've been rehearsing since Wednesday. I was surprised that two days was enough for me to do that good of a job."

Rex chuckled as I finished washing the cream off my face. "Come on, babe," he said. "You shouldn't sell yourself short like that. You're perfect and you know it."

I grinned and tossed the towel on the dressing table as I stood up. "Only in your eyes, sweetheart."

I kissed him on the lips, then he said, "You can't hold that against me. They say love is blind."

"Then we're both blind," I replied tenderly and kissed him again.

"Excuse me guys," Tommy said, reluctantly while opening the door. "Cliff, can I speak to you for a moment?"

I looked at him. He looked pale and I wasn't sure he wasn't going to be sick. "Tommy, sure. Come on in. Are you all right?" I asked worriedly.

He glanced at Rex, before answering. "I don't know," he replied. Now he was on the verge of tears. "I just got in the car on my way home and turned on the radio. They were doing a special news bulletin. As you know, Poison, the band I almost teamed up with, was supposed to be in Seattle tomorrow."

"Oh, was that the name of the band?" I asked. Now I was glad that I had talked him out of going.

"Yeah. Anyway, they just said on the news that they had just left Salt Lake City this afternoon when they missed a turn and went over a guard rail while they were going up into the mountains."

"Oh, no," I gasped.

"It flipped a few times and exploded when it landed. There weren't any survivors."

Tommy began to tremble. He couldn't hold back the tears. I pulled him into my arms and he buried his face in my shoulder while he cried. "If you hadn't come to stop me Tuesday morning, Cliff," he sobbed, "I would have been on that bus."

Reality had hit. I was thankful he had chosen to stay behind, but he had made the choice. "I love you, Tommy," I said, tears were streaking down my cheeks, also. "I am thankful that you didn't go. Even if you hadn't decided to be my friend and employee, I am very thankful that you are still alive."

"I love you too, Cliff," he whispered so softly that I almost couldn't hear him, even though his mouth was right next to my ear. Rex later told me he hadn't heard him say anything.

I pulled away from him after a few minutes of holding him tightly and smiled as I wiped my tears away. "I really am glad you're here," I said. "Thank you for coming after me when I left the other day."

"Thank you for coming to get me," he said. He turned and looked at Rex, who hadn't moved since Tommy came in. He smiled at Rex and reached out to hug him. "Thank you for letting Cliff come get me," he said.

"I'm glad he did, too," Rex said, looking over Tommy's shoulder at me and smiling.

The studio lights were hot but it wasn't the lights that was making me sweat. I was a nervous wreck. Michael stood beside me as someone kept patting powder on my nose.

"Would you relax?" Michael asked. "You'll do just fine."

"I wish Preston was here," I said.

"I know, but he couldn't get off. He promised he'd be watching and he has the VCR set so you can see it later. The guys and I are here for you, you'll have to lean on us for a change."

The powder man patted some more powder on my forehead then said, "They're ready for you."

I took a deep breath and turned to face the lady who sat next to me. Michael joined Bryan, Tommy, Gary and Garland off stage. I smiled at Tommy as I turned. Saturday morning after he had heard about the wreck of the bus Poison had been on, he arrived at the studio for the filming of the next scene of the music video supporting a fresh new, preppie-looking hair cut. I had been surprised at how thick his hair was, short. The new look also made him look even more boyishly cute.

"Just relax, Mr. Richmond," Felicia said. "I'm not going to bite you. I will warn you though, please do not use anything stronger than damn, because this is live."

"Thanks. I wish you hadn't reminded me."

"Do like you did in the video and forget that the camera is there," she said. "It'll make it easier for you. Just talk to me, you don't need to even look at the camera. The tele-prompter is behind me so you can read what you and Mr. Wellman told me you would be saying, if you have to. Don't worry, I won't pull the stunt the last person who interviewed you did and ask questions that we haven't covered."

"Okay."

I wiped my sweaty palms on my black jeans and took a deep breath. She smiled and turned to the camera. A man standing beside the camera wearing a headset, who they had introduced to me as the director, but I couldn't remember his name, held his hand up and counted down from five with his fingers. When he reached one, he pointed to Felicia and the red light on the camera came on. "This is Felicia Good," she said in her most professional voice. I couldn't believe how relaxed she seemed. "I'm here in the CNTV studios in Timber Creek, Oklahoma, the home of country music artist, Cliff Richmond. You may recall a few months ago that Richmond and his band were almost gay bashed by the residents of Portland, Kansas when they were performing in the Mayberry Concert Hall, there."

The director pointed to another camera across the room and Felicia swiveled in her chair, turning towards me. "Cliff Richmond has joined me here in the studio," she continued. "Thank you for agreeing to this meeting, Mr. Richmond," she said. "I promise you that the people here in the studio will not harm you."

I smiled weakly, but didn't say anything. "This is the first interview or public appearance you have had since the incident in Portland, is it not?" she asked.

"Yes, it is," I confirmed.

"We were very surprised that the radio stations have refused your latest release, but we have been unable to talk to anyone at the radio stations who might shed some light on why this has happened. Do you know what could make them be so cold-hearted?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," I replied. We had rehearsed this so she knew what I was going to say. "I spoke to the program director at one radio station a few weeks ago. He informed me that one of his major advertisers threatened to discontinue their account if they continued playing my music."

"I see," she replied. "What radio station was that?" she asked.

"Michael wanted me to reveal this information to the public when I spoke to you," I said, "but if I do divulge that information, then the program director will probably lose his job and the advertiser will pull their account. I see no reason that this program director should lose his job just because his client is homophobic. And, if I do not say which radio station, but do say the name of the client, the client will know he told me and it will be the same effect."

"But if you told the name of the client, then the part of the public who wants to hear your songs will retaliate against that client," Felicia said. "The program director can always find another job. You'd actually be doing to them what they are doing to you."

"That might be true," I agreed. "But I'm not going to jeopardize this person's job this close to Christmas. This person has a family to support.

"I was also informed that every time they played 'Silver Streaks' they received several phone calls from irate listeners telling them to stop playing my songs," I added, sadly.

"I see," she replied. "Then what makes you think the public will want to see this video you have just released to CMV?"

"If I had given up after Portland, then they would have won. This will probably be my last attempt, though. If they don't want to see the video, then I will probably just fade away into the woodwork and find a job somewhere."

"Speaking of Portland," she said, "have you received the payments that you were promised by the concert hall and the Mayor?"

"Michael did receive the full payment that was promised by Mr. Dawson from the concert hall, the week after your interview with Michael, but we haven't heard from the Mayor's office concerning the reimbursement for the equipment. Michael has turned a copy of our equipment receipts and the bill he sent to the Mayor's office, over to the lawyers for Baldwin Agents and Managers with a copy of the news cast where the Mayor made the statement, but he hasn't heard back from them yet."

"I talked to Mr. Dawson from the Mayberry Concert Hall, yesterday," Felicia said. "He said he hasn't received payment for the damage they caused the hall, either. This could be an interesting law suit.

"Now, Mr. Richmond," she continued, "Christmas is only a few weeks away. If the public does accept you back and the TV stations are not bombarded with threats, are you going to have time to get a Christmas album out?"

"Our drummer, Tommy Walters, the one who slammed the door in your face and said he never wanted to see or hear from or about me again, has come back to the band. He has written a wonderful new Christmas song for us. We have cut the single, but we haven't sent it to anyone yet. We have made a video of it, so if the public does accept 'Moonbeams in Your Eyes,' also written by Tommy, then we will release the video to CMV, also. If it is accepted, then we'll let the public come to us for copies of the single. We have only made a few copies of it, mainly just for the band members and our families. We'll have to have more pressed when the people place their orders, so it could be a while before they receive them. They probably won't get them before Christmas, but that's the only way we can do it without wasting a lot of money on them if they don't sell."

"I see," she said. "I'm glad that you haven't given up hope yet. Have you seen the final version of the video of 'Moonbeams in Your Eyes'?" she asked.

"Yes, the band and I have seen the final product. We don't know if CMV has edited it or not, but it is supposed to be aired for the first time tonight at seven."

"Mr. Wellman also gave us a copy of it," she said. "Would you mind if we let our viewers get a sneak-peak of it before tonight at seven?"

"Of course not," I replied. "I'd like that."

On cue from the director, Felicia turned to the camera she had began the interview to. "Ladies and gentlemen," she said. "It gives me great pleasure to be the first to introduce to you, Cliff Richmond singing 'Moonbeams in Your Eyes'."

The light on the camera stayed on. The director did a count down with his fingers and the light went off on his cue. The monitor I could see across the room, switched to a shot of the moon in the glistening water and the music began to play.

"I really like this video, Mr. Richmond," Felicia said. "I think you did a superb job of it."

"Thank you. I think Tommy did a superb job of writing it."

"I heard about the accident of the band that Mr. Walker almost joined up with. How did he feel when he found out about them?" she asked.

"He was pretty shaken up," I replied. I noticed that she hadn't turned off her reporter mode, even though we weren't on camera now. I also had no guarantee that the questions she asked wouldn't wind up being asked to her later when she was on a live spot with an anchor, like she had with Jerry and the other lady in the first set of interviews with Michael, Bryan and Gary. Even though she was appearing to be on my side, I had to be careful what I told her, so I watched the video instead of talking to her.

The majority of the clips that we had selected for the video were those that I had done around the pond in the park, the night that Tommy had found out about the accident Poison had had, but there were a few shots where the set in the studio had been decorated like a barn in the middle of a sunny day, and the guys were playing their instruments with hay stacked around them. I lay on a hay stack chewing on a piece of straw, singing about the barn dance that 'we' had first kissed at. I smiled as I realized that song would work for me to sing to a guy. Tommy had written so that it always said, 'you' but never said anything gender-related. He had actually written it before Michael put us together, so he didn't know if he would be put with a male or female singer, so he wrote it to work with either. When I had read it and offered to add it to the album, I had insisted that he re-write the music since it had been written as a rock song. We had made the video where, in one shot in the barn, I held a picture frame to my chest, but never showed the photo, which happened to be the picture that had come with the frame, which was, per chance, an attractive young man wearing a pink shirt with a blue sweater draped over his shoulders and the sleeves were tied loosely at his chest, grinning at the camera.

The video came to an end, the ending where I walked away from the pond. The camera faded off me and morphed to the moonlight on the rippling water, the same way it had started.

Felicia turned to me and smiled. The tele-prompter began rolling again. I knew that the camera behind me was on again and the viewers could see her. I could see her in the monitor I had watched the music video in. "I just love that song," she said. "I can't wait to see the Christmas video. I do hope you release it soon."

The light on the camera behind her came on, indicating that I was on camera and I said, "I hope we are able to, also, Felicia. The band and I had a blast recording both of them, especially the Christmas song. We had a snow ball fight in it. Unfortunately, I lost."

"Will you come back and let us do a sneak-peak of it when it's released?" she asked.

"I'd like that," I replied.

"Thank you." She turned to the camera in front again and said. "This is Felicia Good and I'm reporting live from the CNTV studios in Timber Creek with Country Music artist, Cliff Richmond. We'll be back with a look at your weather, right after this."

The director counted down to one again and the light on the camera went off.

Felicia turned to me and smiled. It was a warm, sincere smile. I knew that she really was on my side and hadn't been pretending for the camera. "Thank you again for coming in, Cliff," she said. "I really am glad that we got to do that. All the negative stuff that's been reported needed to be rebutted. I still wish you'd give me the name of the company who is against you, but I understand your position."

"Thank you, Felicia," I said, standing up as a stage hand removed my lapel mic and the guys came out of their hiding place. I had hoped that they would be interviewed, also, especially Tommy, but the producer hadn't allowed it.

Michael smiled and said, "That was great, Cliff. Thank you, Felicia."

"Thank you, Mr. Wellman, for letting me interview him. I hope this helps. Cliff is a wonderful singer and everyone shouldn't hold his sexual preference against him. After all, he has never sang anything that would make you think he's singing to a guy. Even though there were no references to gender in this song, there is nothing that will make the viewer who doesn't know he is gay think he's singing to a man."

After thanking Felicia again, we all headed toward the dressing room that I had been assigned. While I removed my stage makeup, Bryan sat on the couch reading through a magazine. "I wish that she had interviewed Tommy," I said. "Not only because he came back to the band, but because he wrote the song."

"I'm really glad she didn't," Tommy admitted. "Once you got into the interview, you stopped being nervous. I don't think I would have."

"After the interview started, it wasn't much different than making the video, except we couldn't have started over if I had messed up. But mainly, Felicia was so relaxed it helped me to relax."

I stood up as the door opened and Garland stepped in. "We have a problem, guys," he said.

"Oh?" I asked nervously.

"Turns out that there were a lot of people who took advantage of this news cast. Felicia told everyone that we were here, live, and since the weather is nice today, they all rushed over here. There's a mob out there waiting at the back door. I headed out to start the bus and if security hadn't been there, they would have all gotten in. >From where I stood, I couldn't make out the bus, so I don't know if they've trashed it or what. Luckily I locked it, so they can't get in."

I glanced up at a monitor just as the scene switched to out side the building. A gentlemen I didn't recognize was standing next to the building. Security guards and police officers were trying to keep the group of people away from him, the bus and the back door. I turned up the volume and waited.

"This is Patrick Murray," he said. "I am reporting live from out side the CNTV studios in Timber Creek, Oklahoma. A few minutes ago, Felicia Good had the first interview with Gay Country singer, Cliff Richmond, since he and his band were almost gay bashed at the Mayberry Concert Hall in Portland, Kansas back in October. Now, several viewers have shown up at the studio, preventing Richmond and his band from leaving. Police and building security are trying their hardest to keep these people in line."

The scene switched to the view of another camera that showed the people. The mob didn't appear to be friendly. Some had baseball bats. The camera played over the bus, it didn't appear to have been damaged. I was thankful, since it was still Garland's bus.

The scene switched back to Patrick. He stepped over next to a guy who was holding a baseball bat. "Excuse me, sir," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"We've got to keep the fags out of country music," he said, hotly. "Country music is pure and clean now, we don't need to start hearing about guys being dumped by other guys."

"But Richmond has never sang anything like that," Patrick protested.

"Maybe not," the guy replied. "But if we let him in, then others will start coming in and the song writers will start writing for them. We have to stop it before it starts."

My heart sank. I knew that my career was over. There was no need for me to pursue the singing career I had hoped for. Michael put his arm around me. I glanced at him through the tears. "It's over," I whispered. "It's finally over."

I walked out the door and down the hall to the studio where Felicia had interviewed me. The director was still there, talking to someone on the other end of the mic on the head phones. A camera man was cleaning the lens on the number one camera we had used. I walked up to the director and said, "I have one final thing to say, if you'll put me on the air live. I promise I won't cuss. I know that it might not be wise, but I need a couple of guards to protect me from the mob. I need to go out there and face them one last time."

"Are you sure about this?" he asked.

"I am."

I hadn't realized that Michael and the band were behind me. "You can't do that, Cliff," Bryan said.

"I have to. For your sakes, I have to."

With a group of security guards around us, we made our way outside to face the mob. The director led us out and raised his hands to quiet them down. "Mr. Richmond would like to make a statement," he shouted. I noticed the two cameras were still running and we were still broadcasting live. "Please show him the courtesy of listening to his final statement and then let him and his band get to their bus."

"Okay, we'll listen," the one who had been interviewed said.

Patrick joined us and the camera man moved over to where we were directly in front of the camera. Patrick said, "We're here behind the CNTV Studios where Gay Country artist, Cliff Richmond is going to make a statement."

He turned to me and said, "Cliff?"

I took a deep breath and glanced around the mob. I didn't recognize anyone, I was thankful for that. "Thank you Patrick. I have realized something this afternoon," I said into the microphone he held for me. "As long as people like Patrick here introduce me as 'Gay country artist' the public will never forget that I am gay and let me continue with my singing career. Therefore, I have decided that you have won. I will withdraw my video from CMV and will not attempt to sing any more. I only ask that if the members of my band, Bryan, Gary and Tommy, do get together as a band, that you will accept them as a group because they are not gay and my being banned from the music industry should not have any effect on their musical career. I am sorry that everyone thinks that my private life has to prevent me from doing what I enjoy, which is sing. And, because of homophobes like the manager of Radian Enterprises, the company that threatened to pull the advertising for KTBC radio here in Timber Creek, if they continued to play my songs, not only am I out of a job, but so are my band members and the people who wrote those songs for me. The people who do enjoy my songs and my singing, are now unable to hear me, too."

An awkward silence fell over the group as I turned to the guys and said, "Let's get out of here."

The mob stepped aside and let us pass, escorted by the security guards. Garland unlocked the door and we got on the bus and he drove towards Michael's office. Nothing was said, but Michael turned on the TV to the news channel. The camera followed us out of the parking lot before the scene switched back to Patrick. "We'll be back with sports, right after this," he said and they cut to a commercial.

"Wow, no follow-up or anything?" Bryan asked.

"Looks that way," Michael said, turning off the TV.

Garland turned into the parking lot of Michael's office building. "I'm sorry guys," I said. "I do wish you luck."

Bryan hugged me and said, "Keep in touch this time, Cliff."

"I will," I promised.

Gary hugged me and shook his head. "I wish it hadn't ended this way."

"So do I," I replied.

Tommy took a deep breath and sighed. "I'm really thankful that I saw the light," he said. "I am sorry that everyone else hasn't. You keep in touch with me, too, okay?"

"I will," I said and he hugged me.

"Be careful," he said.

I hugged Garland and said, "Thank you for the use of the bus. I hope that the guys can stick together and get some gigs so you don't have to sell it. Maybe they can get a new lead singer, but really, they don't need one because Bryan and Gary are good enough they could make it on their own."

"Good luck to you, Cliff," he said. "I can't believe the reaction you've received. It's sad really."

"Yeah. I'll talk to you later," I said and got off the bus.

Michael was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. He smiled at me. "Rex is going to kill you, Cliff," he said.

"I know, but it didn't look like I had any choice. Since the public is on the same side of the manager of Radian Enterprises, Dan has nothing to worry about. If anything, he'll be commended for getting rid of me," I said, sadly, trying my hardest to hold back the tears.

Garland closed the door of the bus and drove off, with Tommy still on it. Gary and Bryan had gone to Bryan's car and gone home. Michael had told them he would call them when he had something for them to do. Michael squeezed my arm and smiled. "Good luck to you, Cliff. I do love you. I hope you find something you enjoy doing. Keep in touch."

"I will," I promised. I wanted to hug him, but we were standing on the street and I couldn't hug him in public.

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I headed for my car and drove home.

It was almost four when I pulled into the garage. I went into the house, stripped and filled up the Jacuzzi. I knew that Rex would be ready for dinner when he got home, but I wasn't in the mood to cook anything. I got a soda out of the refrigerator and sunk into the hot water. I sighed and glanced at the phone. I wasn't even in the mood to call him. I had told him that I would call when I got home from the interview, but now I didn't want to. It wasn't because I was afraid he'd be mad because of what I had done, when I had promised him I wouldn't, it was because I wanted to be alone. As I felt the water lap against my chin, I closed my eyes and listened to the song on the radio.

I thought I had fallen asleep, but I hadn't. I looked at the clock over the tub and sat up. I had only been in the water for a few minutes. It was four-forty-five. The announcer was talking about the riot at the local CNTV studios earlier that afternoon. Rex would be getting off in about fifteen minutes and home by five-fifteen, if he didn't have any problems to keep him at work.

I smiled as I listened to the radio. ". . . After the live interview with CNTV reporter, Felicia Good, country singer Cliff Richmond was met at the back door by a rowdy mob. One of the members present said . . ." they played what the guy had said, in his own words. I knew they had probably gotten the tape from the studio. Had he not said what he did, I was sure that they wouldn't have even mentioned it.

". . .To which Richmond commented . . ." They then played what I had said. I wasn't surprised that they did cut out my ending statement, though. They cut it off at 'which is sing.'

"Richmond and his band got on the bus and drove off after this statement, not staying to let anyone question him," the reporter continued.

I smiled and picked up the phone and dialed Rex's work number. I was sure he had probably heard that. "Edwards here," he answered on the fourth ring.

"Hi, honey," I said. "Is this a bad time?"

"Yeah. I've got a customer on the other line that says he keeps getting a run-time error in the program I just finished for him last week. I can't get it, but he keeps getting it and he's re-installed it a dozen times."

"Does he turn his computer off for a few minutes before he re-installs it?" I asked.

"Good question. I haven't asked him. Thanks. I'll do that. How are you? I'm sorry I didn't get to watch your interview. I've been on the phone with him most of the afternoon."

"Terrible. The interview went pretty good, but there was a mob at the door when it was time to go. I won't be singing anymore."

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," he said. "Are you okay? I can blow this guy off until Monday if you want me to and come on home."

"No, I'm okay. I'm soaking in the tub. I'm not very hungry. Would you mind picking up something for dinner on the way home?"

"Anything special?" he asked.

"Whatever you're hungry for. I might be in bed by the time you get here."

"Okay. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'll be fine," I replied.

"I love you, Cliff. I'll be home as soon as I can."

"Take care of business first, Rex," I said. "It'll probably be a while before I get a job."

"Okay, bye babe."

"Bye, Rex," I said softly and hung up.

I got out of the Jacuzzi and started to dry off. I looked up at myself in the full-length mirror on the wall across from the shower door. Not until then did I realize that I hadn't told Rex I loved him before I hung up. But I couldn't call him back. He was on the phone with an important client.

I sighed and went into my office. The keyboard still stood where it had ever since we had moved in. I put the towel on the bench and sat down on top of it. I seldom played it since Gary was the keyboardist. I figured I'd try to sell it, now. Gary didn't need it since he had gotten a new one.

My fingers paused above the keys. There was nothing for me to play. I didn't have anything memorized. I could have played 'Touch the Moment', it was on the music rack, but the moment was gone.

Tossing the towel onto the bed in our bedroom, I pulled on my robe and headed for the kitchen. I wasn't in the mood to cook and Rex was bringing dinner, but I felt bad that I hadn't told him I loved him. I pulled a bowl out of the cabinet and one of my recipe books and started making a cake. If I hurried, I could have it at least almost done before he got home. That would be a nice surprise for him, since I didn't bake very often.

I had just put the cake in the oven when I heard the garage door open. I knew Rex had left work right after I talked to him. I also got the feeling he didn't have time to stop to get anything for dinner.

The kitchen door burst open and Rex rushed in. "Thank, God," he gasped, grabbing me and hugging me to him.

"What's wrong?" I asked, breathing in the aroma of him.

He kissed me on the lips. "Oh, honey," he said. "You scared the shit out of me. You've never said bye to me before. You've always just said 'talk to you later' or 'see you when you get here.' I just knew you were going to kill yourself."

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart," I said. "I didn't mean for you to think that. No, I would never do that. And here I was upset because I forgot to tell you I love you before hanging up, but couldn't call you back because you were on the phone with that client and I didn't want to interrupt you again."

"I wouldn't have been there if you had," he said. He was still holding me tightly. "I told him to turn the computer off for the weekend and then try re-installing it Monday, then I made a bee line for the car and rushed home as fast as I could. I started to call you, but left the cell phone in my desk, so I didn't want to go back."

I kissed him again. "I love you so much, Rex," I said and we kissed again.

"I love you too, baby," he said. "Don't ever scare me like that again."

"I won't, I promise. What are you going to do for dinner?"

He grinned and put his forehead against mine. "Maybe I'll just eat you," he replied.

"Mm, I like that idea. And I'll eat you. Maybe we need some ketchup."

"No, we're not talking cannibalism here, sweetheart," he said, still holding me. "We're talking blow jobs. And we're not going to do anything kinky with food, either."

"Okay, if you insist," I teased and kissed him again. We held each other for a few minutes without saying anything.

"Mm, what smells so good?" he asked as the aroma of the cake filled the kitchen.

"I felt bad about not telling you I love you, so I made a cake," I replied.

"I thought you didn't feel like cooking," he said, taking off his coat.

"Well, I don't, but I needed to apologize somehow."

He hung his coat in the closet and smiled. "Thank you. Apology accepted."

He lead me into the living room and pulled me down on the couch beside him. I rested my head on his shoulder while he turned on the TV. "Was it really that bad, babe?" he asked, softly.

"It didn't get as bad as Portland, but there weren't as many there."

He flipped the TV to the news channel. I hadn't seen the news since we had left the studio. I wasn't in the mood to see it now, but I knew that Rex wanted to. It would also be easier for him to see it than for me to explain it to him.

It was a little after five. The news channel was showing a commercial and they would have the top story afterwards. I had a feeling that I would be the top story. He could have re-wound the tape and watched what he had recorded, but apparently, he wanted to see what they were saying now.

The commercial ended and I snuggled a little closer to Rex. The camera zoomed in on Jerry, the anchor who had asked Felicia the questions at the end of the interview she had with the guys and Michael a few weeks before. "Thank you for joining us this afternoon," he said. "In country music news, Gay Country artist Cliff Richmond calls it quits in front of dozens of outraged fans, but first, let's go to Felicia Good, who is with us live from the Timber Creek studios."

The screen split and Felicia was sitting in the chair she had sat in when we had the interview. "Thank you, Jerry. However, these were not fans that Richmond called it quits in front of. I had just finished a live interview with Richmond, which we will re-broadcast at the bottom of the hour, and he was starting out the door when a mob of very angry people stopped him. Our very own Patrick Murray, who is braver than I am, got out in the midst of the mob and interviewed one of them. Here's what he said. Following that will be Cliff's farewell speech."

I kept my head on Rex's shoulder, closed my eyes and concentrated on the sound of his breathing and his heart beat. I didn't want to hear or see what I had done. However, I couldn't help smiling and worrying at the same time, when I said the part about the manager of Radian Enterprises. To my surprise, Rex didn't tense up or seem mad that I had said that.

He sat there holding me and said nothing. The scene switched back to Felicia in the studio. "I have tried to contact Bob Miller of Radian Enterprises," she said. "He was unavailable for comment. I also attempted to speak to Dan Fields from KTBC radio, here in Timber Creek. He is out of the office until Monday."

Rex chuckled. "Maybe you should call these people for her, babe," he said.

I smiled. He wasn't mad at me. "No," I said, "I'd rather just sit here and hold you."

He squeezed me and kissed me. "I love you, too, babe," he said.

"CMV," Felicia was saying, "was scheduled to air 'Moonbeams in Your Eyes' tonight at seven. Michael Wellman said that he would call and cancel that airing. I talked to Kim Peters at CMV this afternoon. Here's how that interview went."

"This will be interesting," Rex said.

"It sure will," I agreed.

The screen switched to a different angle of Felicia still sitting in the same chair she had been in a moment before, but there was a large screen in front of her. I didn't remember seeing that screen when I was there earlier. "Now, Kim," Felicia said, "you have seen the interview I did with Richmond and you have seen what happened afterwards. If Mr. Wellman does not call to cancel the video, will you still air it?"

"We are a large corporation, Felicia," she replied. "We have several more sponsors that are much larger than Radian Enterprises, whoever they are, such as AT&T, Disney and Sears. The first two of which are very gay-friendly. We also air to more places than just podunk red-neck towns such as Timber Creek, Oklahoma and Portland, Kansas. We have several viewers all over the country who are gay and we feel that they would love to see Cliff Richmond become a success.

"What Richmond needs to do, Felicia," she continued, "is get out of Timber Creek. With all the bad publicity he has had so far, he needs to move to a gay-friendly city such as San Francisco. It probably wouldn't hurt for him to take his lover with him, too. I realize that his lover is a male model, but I am almost sure that he has another job somewhere, and with all this publicity, I wouldn't be surprised if that company doesn't start coming down on him pretty strong in the not too distance future. Either because of him being gay or because he's a nude model. More likely because he's a nude model. The gay issue can be a bit tricky. They can make his life miserable, but they can't really get away with firing him for it. He'll have a classic law suit on his hands if they try to."

I glanced up at Rex. "Good thing I use a stage name," he said.

"Yeah, but they might recognize you from the pictures," I said.

"So far no one's said anything."

"That's good."

"So then," Felicia asked, "are you saying that whether Mr. Wellman calls to cancel or not, you are going to air the video?"

"If he wants to cancel, we have no choice but not to air it. However, I will try to convince him to let us air it when he calls."

"Thank you, Kim," Felicia said. The scene switched back to her, live. "I did talk to Kim again a few minutes ago. She did talk Mr. Wellman into letting her air the video at seven o'clock eastern time."

I sighed as she said, "We will be re-airing my interview with Cliff Richmond at the bottom of the hour. It will be followed by the re-airing of Richmond's farewell speech.

"I have tried to contact Richmond to see what he thinks about CMV giving him the possible boost that he needs, but he has been out of the office this afternoon. I will attempt to have that story for you sometime this weekend.

"We'll be back with a look at your forecast, right after this," she said and the camera pulled back and switched to a commercial.

I got up and went into the kitchen to check on my cake. Rex was right behind me. "What do you want to do, babe?" he asked, softly.

Closing the oven door, I sighed. "I don't know, sweetheart," I replied. "I do want to keep singing, but I can't risk what might happen if I do. And I really don't want to move out of Timber Creek. I don't want to drag you off either, but I won't go without you."

Rex wrapped his arms around me and I nuzzled his neck. "There's a place called Colt Studios in California," he said. "I could talk to them about going to work for them. There are also a few million software companies in California that I could probably go to work for. I see no reason that we couldn't head west except that your parents are here.

"You'd have to be real picky about where you perform, but if you mainly just did videos and albums, it shouldn't be too bad. Of course, I won't let you go anywhere without me ever again, that's for sure. And, now that the world knows we're lovers, we can sleep together in your bedroom on the bus and the guys won't mind."

My mind was swirling. Part of me wanted to continue, another part just wanted to give up and be Rex's 'housewife'. I didn't let go of Rex when the phone rang. I stood there holding on to him. He reached over and picked up the wall phone underneath the cabinet. "Hello?" he said. "Yeah, Michael, he's here.

"You want to talk to him, babe?" he asked, handing me the phone.

I took the instrument and kissed Rex. "Thank you. I love you."

"I love you, too," he said.

Rex leaned up against the counter and I held on to him. "Hi, Michael," I said.

"Hi, babe," he said. "Did you see Felicia's report just now?"

"Yeah. I did," I replied.

"Kim's going to let me know what the response from the majority is after the video is aired. If it's positive, do you want to have that follow-up interview with Felicia? We can do it from my office in the morning. I'll make sure that we don't do it live or let her tell where she's at."

"Let me call you tomorrow and see what the verdict is tonight," I said. "I don't want to make a commitment at this point. After today, I'm tempted to say forget it, so I think I need to think about it for a while before I decide."

"Okay. We'll need to know pretty early in the morning, to keep it from being live," he said.

"I'll call you by eight," I promised.

"Okay. See you tomorrow, then," he said and hung up.

I sighed and hung up the phone. Rex hugged me and squeezed my hip through the soft material of my robe. "When's the cake going to be done, babe?" he asked, softly.

"In about ten minutes," I replied. "We don't have time for a quickie."

"That's okay. I don't want one. Come on."

He led me into the bedroom and pulled a suitcase out of the closet. "Get dressed, babe," he said.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"You'll see when we get there. Dress comfortable, it'll take a while for us to get there."

"Michael wants me to do an interview with Felicia in the morning after they hear how the video goes tonight," I said, taking off my robe.

He picked it up off the bed and folded it up and put it in the suitcase. "What do you want to do, babe?" he asked.

"I just want to crawl into bed and hold you."

He chuckled. "Okay, then that's what we'll do, but after we get where we're going."

I slipped into a maroon sweat suit and put on a pair of tennis shoes while Rex packed enough clothes for both of us to last for a few days, along with our toiletries, a box of condoms and a tube of lube. He then removed the clothes he had worn to work and put on a black sweat suit. I smiled when he didn't bother to put any underwear on. The flimsy material of the sweat pants did nothing to hide his large organ, even though he was limp.

He grinned and kissed me. "Shouldn't that cake be done by now?" he asked.

"Probably," I replied. He carried the suitcase and followed me into the kitchen. The timer on the oven went off just as we walked into the kitchen. I checked the cake. It was done. I turned it out on the cooling rack and sighed. "I guess you won't get any of this until we get back," I said, sadly.

"You can bring it with us if you want, but there won't be anywhere you can ice it, and you know I love icing on my cake."

"Can't I just jack off onto it?" I teased.

He turned his nose up at me and shook his head. "No. I said no kinky stuff with food, and I meant it."

"Okay, okay," I replied and kissed him. "I'll ice it when we get back."

I covered the cake with a clean towel and followed him to the coat closet. "We'll swing by the office and get my cell phone," he said. "We won't need yours. You don't need to forward the phone to mine, either. We're not going to be taking calls this weekend."

I sunk into the bucket seat of Rex's Trans Am Convertible and placed my hand on his leg while he drove. I closed my eyes. I didn't know where he was taking me and I didn't care. We would be together, and that was all that mattered. Rex put in a tape of the Christmas song Tommy had written and we had recorded, to listen to while he drove.

I smiled as I listened to it. I wondered if we would be anywhere where we could see the video of it, by six o'clock. Opening my eyes, I glanced at the clock on the dash. It was almost five-thirty. I doubted that we would see it. I was thankful that Rex had seen it when the guys and I had.

Darkness spread out before us as we left the city limits of Timber Creek, Oklahoma, after stopping by Rex's office to get his cell phone. It was a good three-hour drive to Oklahoma City and that was the direction we were headed. I didn't know if that was where we were going, but as long as we were together, I didn't care. "Do we have enough gas?" I asked softly.

"Yeah. I filled up this morning on my way to work."

"I guess I should have called Michael," I said.

"Don't worry about him. He'll understand. Have you talked to your parents today?"

"No. I did tell Mom that I was going to be interviewed this afternoon. I don't know if she saw it, though. Since I haven't heard from her, I guess not."

"You can call her when we get back," he said, placing his hand over mine.

The song ended and the tape ejected, making the radio come on.

"This is KTBC, Timber Creek's hot country," the announcer said. "I'm Paul Warner. Jeremy Foster is in the news room and he's got some hot news for us. What's going on, Jeremy?"

"Hot is right, Paul," he replied. The sound of a teletype was going frantically in the back ground. I knew that it was just a computer-generated sound effect. They used computers at the radio station and there wasn't even a teletype in the building. "Country artist Cliff Richmond made the news in a big way this afternoon," he explained. I sighed and started to reach up and turn it off, but Rex held my hand back so I couldn't. "After a live interview with the television network, CNTV, which stands for Complete News Television, a mob of angry people showed up at the studio to fight to keep homosexuals out of the country music business. Richmond made a statement to the crowd that he would withdraw the video from CMV, Country Music Videos, which is due to air at six p.m. local time today.

"CNTV correspondent Felicia Good spoke to CMV spokesperson Kim Peters via satellite this afternoon after the speech," he continued. "She talked Richmond's Manager, Michael Wellman, into allowing CMV to air the video tonight as planned.

"With that in mind," Jeremy continued, "we now go live to the office building of Baldwin Agents and Managers where our very own John Riley is standing by."

Rex and I exchanged worried looks. "Are you there, John?" Jeremy asked.

"Yes, Jeremy, I'm here across the street from the office building. It appears that someone who was very upset about the airing of the video has thrown a pipe bomb into the building." I gasped and Rex slammed on the brakes and spun the car around.

"Police are saying that no one was in the building at the time of the bombing. The fire department has almost got the fire out, but there has been a lot of damage."

Rex breathed a sigh of relief and pulled over to the side of the road. "The owner of the building has been summoned and should be here shortly. We have not been able to get a hold of Michael Wellman or Cliff Richmond for their reactions."

"Thanks, John," Jeremy said. "Keep us posted.

"It appears that the people who want to hear Cliff Richmond's songs and see the video are also retaliating," Jeremy continued. "We now go live to Dan Fields. Where are you, Dan?" he asked.

"Jeremy, I'm in front of Kinder Lane's main store, here on Broadway. As you may or may not know, Kinder Lane is Timber Creek's major grocery store. There are ten locations throughout the area and they are all owned and operated by Radian Enterprises.

"Since Cliff Richmond informed the public this afternoon that I had told him that the manager of Radian Enterprises didn't want us playing Richmond's music, someone has taken it on themselves to defend Richmond by setting fire to all of the Kinder Lane stores."

"Oh, no," I moaned.

"Since all of the stores were open, there have been several people injured."

"Have any suspects been caught?" Jeremy asked.

"No. The interesting thing here is that all of the fires started on the roof and, even though the stores were pretty busy, no one claims to have seen anyone in the area. All fires were also started at the same time, so it couldn't have been just one person who did this.

"Unfortunately," Dan continued, "the fire department doesn't have enough equipment or resources to fight all ten fires and the one at Baldwin Agents and Managers at the same time. Since the one at Baldwin was started first, they were called out to it first and they will not leave the scene until it is out."

"That's a relief," I said, picking up Rex's cell phone.

I dialed Michael's home number and waited. He didn't answer but his machine did. I hung up and dialed his cellular number. In the days I felt that he had been ignoring me, I hadn't bothered trying it. I hadn't wanted to force the issue if he was ignoring me, and it would have only caused him to stop answering it, and sometimes he got important calls on it.

"Do you think that it is purely coincidental that the fires at Kinder Lane all started shortly after the Baldwin Agents and Managers building was bombed?" Jeremy asked.

"Hello?" Michael asked on the first ring.

"Hi, Michael. Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah. I'm on my way to the office. I just heard. If I were you, babe, I'd just stay in the house all weekend. This is getting too fucking ridiculous. Next they'll be taking pot-shots at you and Rex."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," I replied. "Listen to KTBC," I said, "and hold on."

"Yes, it is very interesting," Dan said. "But because of the different locations of the stores, we cannot see how that could have been planned, unless someone threw the pipe bomb just before the fires started just to keep the fire department from getting to some of the stores."

"Wow," Michael said.

"Yeah. Rex and I are going out of town for the weekend. I'll call you at home when we get back. Why don't you call Kim and cancel the damn video?"

"Okay, I will," he replied. "Be careful, babe," he said.

"We will," I replied. "You too. I'll call you either Sunday night or Monday."

I hung up and laid the phone down. "Let's go on to wherever you're taking me," I said. "He thinks it'd be best for us to get out of town."

Rex put the car in gear and turned back around and continued toward Oklahoma City. "Jonathan Bates, Radian Enterprises' Manager, just arrived," Dan was saying. "Mr. Bates, would you like to make a statement?"

"As a matter of fact, I would," he replied, hotly. "First of all, I will be pulling my account from KTBC, since you blabbed to Richmond what I said, and secondly, Richmond, if you're listening, you're going to pay for this. You might not have set the fires or had them done, but they were set because of you. So, I'm holding you personally responsible, and I'm going to sue you for everything you've got."

I sighed and Rex put his hand over mine. "He can't have me, babe. I'll always be yours."

I smiled at him in the dim glow of the dash light of the car. "That's all I need, baby," I replied, tenderly. "Thank you." I leaned over and kissed him.

"We now go back to the studio with Jeremy Foster," Dan said. I could tell he was more than a little upset by what Mr. Bates had said. I knew I was.

"Thanks, Dan," Jeremy said. "What is the status of the fire there at the main store?" he asked.

I heard Dan sigh. I knew he didn't want to talk. "Luckily, it is just about out," he said. "It was the first of the Kinder Lane stores, reported, so the fire department got over here pretty fast. There was not near as much fire damage here as there will be at the other stores, but there will be a lot of water damage here."

"Thanks, again, Dan Fields," Jeremy said, "reporting live from Kinder Lane's main grocery store.

"Now we go back to John Riley, who is at the Baldwin Agents and Managers, office building. What's going on there, John?" Jeremy asked.

"Michael Wellman just showed up," he replied. "Mr. Wellman, have you heard from Cliff Richmond? What does he have to say about this?"

"Yes, I spoke to Cliff a few minutes ago," Michael replied. "He is very sorry that this has happened, but he feels that he is not responsible. That is also the feeling of Baldwin Agents and Managers. If the people of Timber Creek are so against Cliff performing, all they have to do is not listen to the radio or watch TV, and don't call to request his songs. That's how the charts work. If no one requests the song or no one buys the albums, then the artist will fade away. What all these homophobes have done, in my opinion, is keep Cliff at the front of everyone's minds. If they had just left him alone, no one would have ever heard about him after his tour. Now, even though his song, 'Silver Streaks' has dropped off the local chart, I found out this afternoon that he has made it to the top ten in the nation-wide survey. Everyone has been requesting his songs in the larger areas, and I even got a few requests this week from radio stations to send a copy of 'Touch the Moment', his latest single."

"Why didn't he tell me that?" I wanted to know.

"I don't know," Rex said. "Maybe he's just saying that to make people feel bad."

"It seems to me," Michael continued, "what all of you have done is to make Cliff Richmond more popular instead of getting rid of him. Even though our office building is pretty well demolished, we'll counter-sue Radian Enterprises and, when we win, they can rebuild our offices for us. Aside from the inconvenience of losing the building and probably some important documents, we have actually benefited from this pipe-bomb, and, on behalf of Cliff Richmond, I'd like to thank all of you homophobes out there for making Cliff the success that he has worked very hard for, and deserves to be. Without all your protesting, the national news services, such as CNTV, and the tabloids, such as 'The Weekly Reporter', wouldn't have covered him so closely and made him known nation - maybe even world - wide, as the first Gay country artist in America, which brought him up to having his first single hit number six on the country charts this week. Thanks again for all of the free publicity you've given Cliff Richmond."

"Michael," I chided, although I knew he couldn't hear me.

"Oh, and be sure to flip over to CMV in about ten minutes," he added. "That's when they'll be airing the new video, 'Moonbeams in Your Eyes.'"

"Wow, I do hope he wasn't joking, babe," Rex said, gently squeezing my hand.

"So do I," I replied. "But he should know that the radio station could confirm that, so it must be true."

"Um, well, thank you, Mr. Wellman," John said, clearing his throat. "It looks like they've got the fire out here, so back to Jeremy Foster in the studio."

I smiled at how fast John got out of that.

"Thanks, John. We will have to be sure to listen to the 'American Country Count Down' Sunday afternoon at two o'clock, to see if Mr. Wellman was telling the truth on that," Jeremy said and a commercial started. I was impressed that it wasn't a Kinder Lane commercial.

Rex took out my Christmas tape and put in a tape of the country group, Alabama. "I think we've heard enough, don't you, babe?" he asked.

"Too much, probably," I replied.

It was almost eight-thirty when Rex steered his Trans Am into the circular drive of a plush hotel on the outskirts of Oklahoma City. I had done a concert in Oklahoma City before, but we hadn't spent the night that trip.

"We don't have a reservation," Rex told the valet. "Let me get a room, then I'll let you park the car."

"Certainly," he replied.

I smiled at him and was thankful that he didn't appear to recognize either of us. Rex went into the lobby. He returned a few minutes later with a key and opened the trunk to get our suitcase out. After handing the parking valet the keys to the car, he led me into the lobby. A bellhop stood beside the door waiting for us, but Rex insisted on carrying our suitcase.

We followed him to the elevator. As we ascended to the top floor, I noticed the bellhop checking out Rex's crotch, out of the corner of his eye, which, since Rex wasn't wearing underwear under his flimsy sweat suit, was nice to look at, if I did say so myself. If Rex noticed, he didn't react. "You'd better call your mom when we get to the room," he said, softly, ignoring the bellhop's presence. "After that last report, she might be worried about us."

"Good idea," I replied.

The elevator arrived at the top floor. I couldn't figure why Rex had wanted to be on the top floor, except to hope that we would be away from everyone else and maybe not be recognized. The bellhop stepped off and held the door open for us. I walked out first and Rex followed. The bellhop led us down the long hallway across the plush red velvet carpet to the end room. He opened the large pink door, which had gold plated plaque next to it that read: "Penthouse Suite - 1".

"You didn't have to get a suite," I said, walking into the room.

"It'll be more comfortable," Rex replied.

The room wasn't very large, compared to the Penthouse at the Ritz in Timber Creek, but there was a nice fireplace against the wall across the room. There was a maroon living room suit facing it. To the right of the fireplace were patio doors that led out onto a nice private balcony that had a lovely view of the city.

To the left of the sitting area there was another door that the bellhop opened for us. "The bedroom and bathroom are in here, Mr. Edwards," he said. "The couch in here makes a very comfortable bed."

"Thank you, Stuart," Rex said, handing him a bill. "Please reassure that we will not be disturbed this weekend."

Stuart looked at the twenty dollar bill and gulped. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. If you need anything at all, please dial zero."

"Thank you, Stuart," Rex said and followed him to the door, leaving our suitcase on the floor beside the bedroom door."

"If you'd like, I'd be glad to light the fire for you," Stuart offered.

Rex glanced at the hearth. "I think I can handle it," he replied. "But thanks for the offer."

Rex closed the door and locked it. I grinned and took the suitcase into the bedroom. There was a king-sized bed with a royal velvet red bedspread. Rex wrapped his arms around me from behind and kissed me on the neck. "Sorry they didn't have one in blue, babe. This isn't too bad, is it?" he asked.

"No. As long as I'm in your arms, it could be green with big purple and orange polka dots."

"Shucks, now you tell me," he grinned, turning me around to face him. "That one is across the hall. We could move if you want to."

I placed my arms on his shoulders and pulled his face down closer to mine. "I love you, Rex," I whispered and kissed him.

"I love you, too, Cliff."

He picked me up and gently lay me in the middle of the king-sized bed, then climbed onto the bed and lay down on top of me. We kissed for a few minutes and then he said, "You'd better call your mom, babe."

"I guess you're right," I replied.

He rolled over on his back and I picked up the phone. I took my wallet out of my sweat shirt pocket, got out my calling card, and dialed my parent's number.

Rex got up and left the room while I waited for my parents to answer. "Hello?" Dad said on the fourth ring.

"Hi, Dad," I said.

"Cliff, thank God," he said. "Where are you? Your mom's worried sick and we've been trying to call you since about six o'clock."

"Rex brought me to Oklahoma City," I replied, then realized that maybe I shouldn't have told them. They didn't have Caller-Id, so they couldn't tell what number I was calling from. "Michael thought it'd be a good idea for us to get out of town for a few days. I haven't checked our messages at home. I left my cell phone at home, but we have Rex's."

"Well, the police have been here and they're looking for you. They want to question you in regards to the fires this evening. Did you hear about those?"

"Yes, we had just left town when they reported them. What did you tell the police?" I asked.

"Just that we haven't heard from you. I tried to call you while they were here, and they wanted me to give them your number, I refused because it is not my place to give it out. Don't worry, I only tried to call your cellular number, not your home number. I also made sure that while talking about your lover, I only called him Preston Townsen."

"Thanks, Dad," I said. "If they come back, tell them that they'll have to contact Baldwin Agents and Managers to get a hold of me. Michael doesn't know where we are, but it's his job to handle that type situation. Also, I promise you that neither Preston nor I had anything to do with the bombing or the fires." I decided to use Preston, just in case Mom and Dad's phone had been bugged. That, of course, would really confuse them since I had already said 'Rex' a few times.

"Okay. Well, thanks for calling, Cliff," Dad said. "I'm glad you're okay. Call us when you get home."

"We will," I promised. "Give Mom my love, and Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too."

"Me, too, Cliff," he replied. "We'll talk to you when you get back."

I hung up and sighed. I had once wondered if it was because I was gay that Dad wouldn't say those three little words, but as I got older, I realized he didn't say them to my brother either. My brother and I had seldom heard him tell Mother that he loved her, either.

I started to get up, but sat back down abruptly. My brother. I hadn't talked to him since before my 'coming out concert' as the people in my circle had come to call it. He hadn't been able to make it home for Thanksgiving. Every time that I had tried to call him, he'd been out of town on business.

Not sure where Rex had gone, I picked up the phone and dialed Brent's number. "Hello?" he answered on the first ring.

"Hi, Brent," I said, softly.

"Cliff, how are you?" he asked. I could hear the concern in his deep voice. I could also tell he was tired.

"I think I'm doing a lot better than you are," I replied. "You sound tired."

"Yeah. I just got in about an hour ago. I had to catch the Red Eye out of DC this morning, which, of course, is two a.m. for me, and had a meeting at eight in Salt Lake. Then I caught a flight back to DC at ten and had a two-hour meeting with the president of the company, then another flight back to Denver for a quick meeting, then wound up being snowed in at Denver for a couple of hours and didn't get to leave until about five. Got in here at six, my time and am lying here soaking in a hot tub, sipping a beer.

"The traveling isn't so bad, but the time changes are what's killing me," he added.

Brent was a traveling salesman for a major software company in San Diego. I had tried to talk him into staying in the area since he had to go to New York and Washington DC frequently, but he wanted to live in San Diego. He got his stubborn streak from Dad, but at least he would tell me he loved me.

"Sorry to hear that," I said. "If you lived at least in Oklahoma City, you wouldn't have so far to fly to get home all the time."

"Don't start, Cliff," he said, wearily.

"Sorry," I said, softly.

"So, seriously, how's my baby brother holding up? I've been seeing you on TV every time I turn it on, just about."

"I think tonight was the last straw," I said and explained what had happened right as Rex and I were leaving town. I didn't tell him that I wasn't at home.

"Holy shit," Brent said. "Listen, why don't you come out here and stay with me until Christmas?" he asked. "I'm done running around until after the holidays. You can stay here with me and then we can catch a plane back to Oklahoma City right before Christmas. I've got my ticket already so we'll just have to get you one. I've already talked to Mom and they'll meet me at the airport on the twenty-second. I'll be staying through the fifth. What do you say?"

"That'd be nice, Brent," I said. "But I wouldn't feel right bringing Rex and I don't want to go without him, either."

"Rex? You mean you're still together even after all this?"

"Yeah. He's great," I replied.

"Yeah, Mom said that she hasn't seen you this happy in a long time," Brent said. "No, that wouldn't work. I only have a one-bedroom apartment. You'd be sleeping with me if you come, since I don't have a comfortable couch in the living room."

"I'll talk to him," I said. "He might decide it will be a good idea. If he wants to come with me, we can get a room. I'll call you tomorrow and let you know what he thinks."

"Okay. Well, you be careful. I don't want the next report that I hear on the tube that you've been killed."

"I don't either," I agreed. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Hang in there, Cliff. I love you."

"I love you, too, Brent," I said.

I hung up and went to the bathroom. When I finished, I went into the living room looking for Rex. He had a fire blazing in the hearth and sat on the floor in front of the couch, waiting for me.

"Hi, honey," I said and kissed him as I sat down next to him.

"Hi," he said, wrapping his arms around me. "I ordered us dinner. It should be here in a little while."

"Thanks. I guess you're probably starving by now, huh?" I asked, leaning my head against his chest.

"Not totally," he replied.

I glanced out the patio doors as it started to snow. I snuggled a little closer against him and explained what Dad and Brent had said.

"I love you, Cliff," he said softly. "I really want you to stay in Timber Creek with me, but it might be best to go stay with your brother for a while. I can't get off from work until Christmas week. If you want to go stay with your brother until Christmas, you go ahead. After New Years, we can look at moving to California."

I ran my hand up his inner thigh and cupped his large organ in my hand through the soft material of his sweat suit. I kissed him on the lips and said, "I love you, Rex. I won't go to California unless you can go, too."

"Thank you," he whispered and kissed me again as the bulge in my hand began to grow larger.

I pulled the band of his sweat suit down and took his rock hard organ in my hand and started stroking it as we continued to kiss. After a few minutes of hot, passionate kissing, he pushed me back and pulled himself up on the sofa, leaving me holding his cock and sitting on the floor. Without being told to, or invited, I leaned forward and licked his hard rod.

Rex moaned as I took his dick as far into my mouth as I could. "Oh, baby, that's it, right there."

He leaned against the back of the couch and rubbed the back of my head as I continued to flick my tongue across the ridge at the base of his head. "Mm, I'm cumming," he moaned, pressing his organ a little deeper into my mouth. I was surprised, he had never cum that quickly before.

As his shaft expanded in his mouth and the hot jism blasted down my throat, he moaned and there was a knock at the door.

"Room service," came the voice from the other side of the door.

"Oh, shit," Rex gasped. "Just a sec," he called.

I was still getting semen out of his cock, so I didn't stop sucking. "Mm, that's great, babe," he moaned. "Get it all out."

When I finished, I raised up and kissed him on the lips. "I love you," I whispered.

"I love you," he replied. He pushed me back a little and stood up, pulling his sweat pants up. "You'd better get in the bedroom, babe. We don't want anyone recognizing you."

"Okay," I agreed and got up and went to the bedroom, closing the door behind me.

Rex opened the bedroom door, put his hand on my hip and kissed me on the lips, when the room service attendant had gone. "Dinner's ready," he said.

"I had dessert already," I replied. "What's the main course?"

He chuckled. "You just think you had dessert. That was an appetizer."

"Mm, I like that idea," I replied as he lead me into the living room.

The cart that dinner had been delivered on, served as a table, which had been placed in front of the patio doors. Rex, or the attendant, had set a chair on either end of the cart. Rex held a chair for me and I smiled and sat down. "Thank you," I said.

He took his place across from me and reached over and took my hand in his. "It won't be as good as what you could have fixed, but it's better than just throwing together a sandwich and chips, and you didn't feel like cooking, so this will have to do."

I smiled. "Thank you. I appreciate you ordering for us."

"My pleasure," he replied.

With the fire flickering behind him and large snowflakes falling slowly to the ground outside, we sat and enjoyed the silence while we ate the steak and baked potatoes Rex had ordered.

"This is nice," I said, softly.

"Yeah, it is," he agreed. He glanced down at the center of the table and snapped his fingers. "Oh, shit, I forgot something."

"What?" I asked.

He got up and rushed over to the table that had a mirror above it that set against the wall beside the bedroom door. He opened a drawer and pulled out a long, slender pink candle and a brass candle holder. He placed the candle in the holder, set it in the center of the table, went over to the fireplace and got a match, and returned and lit the candle.

"There," he said, tossing the match into the fireplace. "Now, that's more romantic, isn't it?"

I smiled at him around the candle as he sat back down. "Yes," I replied. "But now I can't see you as well."

He grinned and moved the candle over to the edge of the table. "I think you're right. This is better."

"Actually," I said, "I don't think you could have done much better than the fireplace and the slow falling snow with the great view of Oklahoma City. Have you been here before?" I asked.

He chuckled. "Remember the last out-of-town shoot I had?"

"Yes," I replied and took a sip of iced tea.

"We came here. I had this room and Victor and the camera guys had Penthouse Suite four. We used the living room in it for the shoot. None of the staff knew what we were doing here. Suite four has four bedrooms. Whatever suite number you have, is how many bedrooms there are. There are only four suites."

"Oh," I said.

"I knew that you'd like this one. The others are a lot more expensive."

"I imagine. But you know, Rex," I said, "you could have just gotten a regular room with a king or double bed. Just being with you is all I need."

He grinned. "Yeah, I know, but I wanted to sit in front of the fireplace and hold you. We couldn't have done that in a regular room. Also, this way you can hide in the bedroom when they bring our meals. And," he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "this room has a heart- shaped hot tub that only holds two."

"Mm. Okay, I'm sold," I said and leaned across the table to kiss him. "I love you. Thank you."

"I love you, too. You're welcome."

After we finished eating, Rex pushed the table out into the hallway and put the chairs back where they belonged, at each end of the table with the mirror above it, where he had gotten the candle. He had blown it out and set it on the table instead of putting it back in the drawer. He sat back down in front of the fireplace and I sat back down in his arms. We held each other and listened to the fire crackle and watched the large snow flakes gently fall. It was so peaceful. I could have sat there forever in his warm, strong arms with my head resting on his shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, I looked out the window of Michael's new office. It was on the fifth floor of a bank building. The leaves on the trees were starting to turn green. Winter was over and spring was in the air.

"You ready to go, babe?" Rex asked.

"Yeah. I guess so," I replied. "I really don't know about this."

"You don't have to do it if you don't want to, Cliff," Michael said.

"I know, but I think I do."

After spending Christmas with my parents and Brent, Rex and I had settled back into our routine. Michael had been right when he said that I had hit number six on the country charts because of the bad publicity I had gotten. As Michael had predicted, the 'Ellen Degeneres' effect had worked for me, too.

Even Tommy didn't seem to mind knowing that Rex and I would be sharing the bed in my room when we were on the bus, although we hadn't gone anywhere or done anything but make some videos, singles, and a new album, since. I was very impressed at how much he had matured in the past few months. He had also stopped saying 'cool' and 'dude' all the time. I hadn't even heard him listening to head-banger music since he got his hair cut, he was only listening to country music. Even though Billy had kept his own apartment, they stayed in touch and spent a lot of time together. I was glad they had their friendship back.

I walked with Rex and Michael to the elevator and we went down to the lobby. There were a few people waiting in line for tellers. A couple of them smiled as we came off the elevator. One acted like she wanted to come talk to us, but she was next in line and the teller was ready for her.

"They're supposed to air your latest video this afternoon on CMTV sometime," Michael said.

It was the fourth video we'd made. All the video's we had done were of songs that Tommy had written. I had impressed on Michael that we should only record songs by him, since he was a band member and was a great writer.

"Oh, you'll be glad to know, Cliff," Michael added, opening the outside door for me, "we finally got the reimbursement payment from Portland, Kansas the other day."

"Took them long enough," I said.

"Yeah, but the lawyers were able to keep it out of court. That's what's important."

"What about Radian Enterprises?" Rex asked. "We haven't heard anything about a law suit from them after the fires before Christmas."

"Yeah, they've kind of kept that hush-hush," Michael replied. "Sorry, I've been so busy I keep forgetting to tell you, Cliff, but it turns out that after you informed the public what Jonathan Bates had said about pulling the Radian account from KTBC, his boss fired him because his nephew happens to be Tim Porter, the son of the lady who cornered you in line at the super market to get your autograph on 'The Weekly Reporter' the day you were getting groceries because I was coming over for dinner."

"You're kidding," I said. I hadn't even put two and two together and realized that the store Rex and I shopped at was a Kinder Lane. Rex had done all the shopping after the incidents and hadn't mentioned the store being burned. I figured he didn't want me to worry about Mr. Coston's job.

"Nope. Mrs. Porter is his sister. It also turns out, it was an employee who started the fires. He was upset that Bates' threat was what stopped them from playing your stuff. He is gay and he liked the idea of your songs playing on the radio."

"How did he get them all to start at once?" I asked as Garland opened the bus door for us.

"I'll explain on the way," Michael replied.

We got on the bus and sat down on the couch. Rex put his arm around me. "What's up, guys?" Bryan asked.

Michael explained to the others what he was talking about. "The way he did it was," he concluded, "after he heard what Cliff had said on the news about Bates, he went to each store and put a little fire starter gadget on the roof with a timer that would make it go off at five-forty. He got the instructions on how to do that, get this, from the local library."

"Thank, God it wasn't the Internet," Gary said. "The Internet gets enough of a bad rap these days."

"Really. Anyway," Michael continued, "that's how he did it. That's also why it's not being broadcasted on the news, because if people knew how simple it was to find stuff like that at the library, it'd be a big mess."

"But why five-forty?" Bryan wanted to know. "Did he have something to do with the pipe bomb in your office, too?"

"No, that was traced to the guy that was interviewed outside CNTV studios after Cliff's interview with Felicia Good," Michael explained. "The five-forty was because Cliff told about Bates at about three or so, and he had to rush to the library to get the instructions, then go find the equipment. He had seen the instructions when he was doing some research for an essay on something else for college and knew where to find them. After he got the equipment, he was in a hurry to get them made. By then it was almost four- thirty and he wanted it to make the six-o'clock news. So, he rushed to get them planted before six. He said he almost got caught coming down at one store, but the person he thought saw him, didn't after all.

"The reason that pipe-bomb was thrown at five-thirty- five, was because the guy didn't want anyone to get hurt and he thought everyone would be out by then, and he also wanted to make the six o'clock news," Michael added.

"Some people, I swear," Tommy sighed.

"Yeah. If I hadn't had to go to court for these two cases the other day, I wouldn't have known this, either," Michael said. "They're keeping it out of the news as best they can."

"So, are you guys up to this?" I asked as Garland steered the bus into the parking lot of the coliseum in Chesterville.

"Don't worry, Cliff," Michael said. "Security is going to be a lot tighter than it was in Portland. No one will be allowed within ten feet of the stage."

"Do they have orders to shoot to kill?" Tommy asked. He was still a little worried about this, too.

Michael chuckled. "Hopefully, it won't be necessary."

We got off the bus and unloaded our new equipment.

It was the first time I'd been on stage since Portland. The closer to time for the audience to arrive, the more nervous I became. The last time we had performed in Chesterville, we had been welcomed. This time I wasn't too sure what would happen.

"You'll be fine, babe," Rex said, softly. "I'll be right here for you this time."

I smiled up at him and kissed him. "Thank you. I love you."

"I love you, too, Cliff," he replied and kissed me again.

"You'll be glad to know that we're expecting a full house," Mr. Gainer, the coliseum manager told Michael.

"That's good," he replied. I wasn't really sure I wanted a full house again.

We practiced for about an hour before the security company showed up. "We'll take good care of you, Mr. Richmond," the head officer promised.

"Thank you," I replied.

Rex joined the others and me on the bus while we changed clothes and waited for the coliseum to fill up. Michael stayed inside with Mr. Gainer and kept an eye on the crowd.

"If we hadn't gotten such a good review of our last album," I said pulling my shirt on, "I wouldn't be doing this."

"I'm surprised you're doing it anyway, babe," Rex said, leaning back on the bed. "I hope you don't get cold feet once you get up there. I didn't think you'd actually go through with it."

"It seems that the public is wanting it, so I thought I'd give it one last try," I replied.

Rex chuckled. "Well, the public still wants me to do a fuck-flick," he said, "but I'm not going to do that. If this doesn't work out, you can stick to doing music videos."

I sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned over and kissed him. "If this doesn't work out, I'll give up completely," I informed him. "I'm not going through what we went through before Christmas, again."

"Whatever you want to do, babe," he said as there was a knock on the door.

"Yes?" I said.

Bryan opened the door and peered in. "You ready, Cliff?" he asked. "They're ready for us."

"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied, getting up.

My stomach was in knots. My palms were sweating so much that I just knew that I was going to get electrocuted when I took hold of the mic.

I hugged Rex and kissed him as Michael said, "Ladies and gentlemen, please make welcome Cliff Richmond and The Cowboys."

I was thankful that the guys had finally decided to use that name. We dashed out on stage and the audience roared. I was so relieved that it was standing ovation, but they were happy to see us, not the cruel crowd that we had had in Portland.

I scanned the audience and a warm feeling flooded over me as they continued to cheer and my eyes landed on a cute young man in the front row. It was Tim Porter, I recognized him from the picture his mother had shown me that day in the store. His mother stood beside him, cheering right along with him.

"Thank you," I said into the microphone. The crowd took their seats and quieted down. "I'd like to dedicate this first song to my biggest fan," I said as Gary started playing the intro to the song. "I see he's here in the front row." I glanced over at Rex and he frowned. "Tim Porter, would you please stand up?" I asked.

Tim blushed but he was grinning from ear to ear, his dimples making him even cuter as he stood up. "You know," I said, missing my cue to start singing, "it's people like Tim, his mother, the guys in the band, Tommy Walters on drums, Gary Jones on keyboard, Bryan Perkins on guitar, and our bus driver, Garland Daniels, and my agent, Michael Wellman, and Felicia Good, the reporter from CNTV, and, yes, the love of my life, Preston Townsen, that kept me from giving up all together after what happened at my last concert and through the last few months. It means a lot to me that each one of you showed up tonight, and left all your clubs at home."

There was a ripple of light laughter through the crowd. I noticed a few people dabbing at their eyes. "To save you any further embarrassment, Tim," I continued as Gary started over on the song, "you can sit back down. Thank you again for coming tonight."

He sat down and Gary hit my cue. I began to sing, mainly looking everywhere, but not really looking at anyone. Occasionally, I would look down at Tim or over to Rex. They would both be smiling at me when I did. Even the security guards seemed to be enjoying our performance.

As the band and I took our final bow after the third encore performance of 'Moonbeams in Your Eyes', the crowd jumped to their feet for a standing ovation. I smiled and I knew that we had finally made it to the top. The people who stood clapping and cheering for our performance, didn't care one iota that Rex - Preston, to them, and I were lovers. They just loved our music. I glanced over at Tommy, he was beaming from ear to ear. I knew that he had never expected his songs to be so popular.

I grabbed Rex as we headed off the stage and hugged him. "I love you," I shouted above the roar of the crowd.

"I love you, too, babe," he replied.

I grabbed Michael and hugged him. "I want to meet Tim Porter," I said. "Will you bring him and his mother back stage?"

"Sure," he replied.

"You did a great job, Cliff," Tommy said.

"I couldn't have done it without you, Tommy," I replied.

He blushed and hugged me. "Thank you for insisting we use my stuff," he said.

"You keep writing, Tommy," I said. "We can use your talent."

"I have some news, guys," Michael said. The crowd had quieted down and were starting to leave so he didn't have to talk very loud.

"Good or bad?" I asked, worriedly as a security guard stepped into the wing with Tim, his mother and a man whom I didn't recognize, but had been sitting next to his mother.

"I hope you'll think it's good, Cliff," he said. "I do. I just got a call from Hilda, she said that they just announced that 'Moonbeams in Your Eyes', is number one this week."

I was stunned. The guys, Rex, Tim and his parents, were jumping up and down and whooping and hollering for joy, but I could only stand there and stare at Michael in disbelief. 'Silver Streaks' had managed to move up into the number three spot. 'Touch the Moment', my favorite, had made number five, but this was the first time we'd made number one. I couldn't believe it. I was especially thrilled that it had been the first one we'd done that Tommy had written.

Rex kissed me. "I'm sorry you're not excited," he whispered.

"Oh, I am," I replied, smiling at him. "I'm just stunned."

"Well, snap out of it, babe, you've got guests."

"Thank you," I said. I smiled at Tim and Mrs. Porter. I extended my hand to Tim, he took it, beaming from ear to ear. "Hello, Tim," I said. "It's a pleasure to meet my biggest fan."

He looked at Rex then back at me. "I think he's a little bigger than me," he replied.

I smiled. "Yeah, but he doesn't count," I said. "He loves me whether I sing or not."

Tim shrugged. "Well, I could, too," he admitted and blushed.

I turned to Rex and said, "Preston Townsen, I'd like for you to meet Tim Porter."

"Nice to meet you," Rex said, offering Tim his hand.

I was thankful that Rex didn't seem to be jealous. He had no reason to be.

"Nice meeting you, too," he replied. "You already know my Mom," Tim said. "This is my Dad."

I shook Mr. Porter's hand. "Nice meeting you," I said. "And thank you for bringing your wife and son out tonight."

"Actually, Tim drug us," Mr. Porter replied, grinning at his son.

"Well, I'm glad that you let him," I said. I turned to Mrs. Porter and said, "Thank you for showing me Tim's picture that day. I wouldn't have been able to have him come back here, if you hadn't."

"Thank you for not throwing a fit that day," she said, shaking my hand. "I didn't even think about what could have happened until after Mr. Coston spoke to you and everyone rushed back into their own lines."

"As long as it turned out the way it did," I replied, "it's okay.

"Tim," I said, "I'd like you to meet the band, too."

I introduced him to the guys, and then I asked, "Would you like to see the bus?"

"Would I?" he asked, his blue eyes sparkling.

"Mr. and Mrs. Porter, why don't you go get your car and come around back? We'll show you the bus, when you get back there."

"Sure," Mr. Porter agreed.

We all went out the back door to the bus. Garland was waiting for us. I introduced Tim to him, then gave him the tour of the bus.

After his parents arrived with their car, I showed them around, too. "Must get pretty crowded in here after you've been on the road a few days," Mr. Porter said, looking around, approvingly.

"We wouldn't know," I admitted. "We've only been out on the road once, and that trip lasted two days."

"Don't remind me," Tommy said.

"Something I'd like to forget, too," I admitted.

"I imagine," Tim said.

We sat and talked for a while, then Mr. Porter said they really needed to be leaving if they were going to get back to Timber Creek that night.

"Thanks again for inviting me in here," Tim said, shaking my hand.

"Thank you for believing in me," I said, hugging him.

"After tonight," Michael said after the Porters had departed, "I'm going to see if I can get you another tour, if you want one, that is."

I glanced at Tommy, he diverted his gaze down to the floor, but didn't say anything. I looked questioningly at Bryan and Gary. Bryan took a deep breath and asked, "Do you mind if we wait a year or so?"

"Yeah," Gary spoke up, "I think we should stick to videos and records, with an occasional concert here and there. I'm not really ready to chance a full-blown tour yet, either."

Rex put his arm around me. "It's up to you, babe," he said, "but I'm not really ready to give you up for a month, either. And, unfortunately, I won't be able to go with you. If you do an occasional concert, I can come with you, but a tour, I won't be able to."

"Of course that would depend on where the concert was," Michael interjected. "If it's a long way off, you won't be able to take off to go with him."

"No, but I can probably fly in on the day of the concert, spend the night on the bus, then fly home the next day before they head back home."

"Well, that's true," Michael agreed.

"Okay, Michael," I said. "It looks like the majority rules. We'll do more videos, records and an occasional concert and wait a while before we think about scheduling a tour."

"And that doesn't mean you have to schedule our next concert in New York City, either," Tommy spoke up.

Garland started the bus and we headed toward home. It was nice to be able to lie down in the double bed with Rex. I placed my head on his shoulder and said, "Thank you for coming with me."

"My pleasure," he said, rubbing my arm. "I love you, babe. You did a great job tonight."

"I couldn't have done it without the guys," I replied, sleepily.

"I know, babe," he said, softly.

"I love you, Rex," I whispered and kissed him on the lips. I lay my head on his shoulder and he pulled me closer against him. Lying in his warm strong arms, I drifted off to sleep with the image of the crowd jumping to their feet and cheering frantically as the guys and I took our final bow after the third encore of "Moonbeams in Your Eyes", dancing in my head.