Author's note: First, I wanted to say thanks to all for the emails. It means so much to get the positive reinforcement. Thank you!!! <3
I'm going to post a character pic on my Instagram of Kemper Woods, the main character. Check it out at @willowlemon.
My other story on Nifty is under the Gay section/Celebrity/The Page and the Canvas. Or here's the link: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/celebrity/the-page-and-the-canvas/
Please donate to Nifty by using the big blue button the front page for being such a fantastic site.
CHAPTER TWO
Veronica and Kemper went to the Loews Hotel and up to his room on the tenth floor.
"That was strange, don't you think?" Veronica plopped down on the bed, taking her sandals off. It had been the first thing she had said since they left Jackson Square.
"Very," was all he could manage. He was in the same state as Veronica, in obvious reticent introspection.
"Did you bring any of the one stuff, because I would say this is definitely an occasion for it? I have some back at the apartment if you didn't."
"Would I come from the islands and not bring any? Here, spark it," Kemper passed her a tiny white joint he retrieved from his brown leather carryall.
"How do you get this stuff through the airport?" asked Veronica on an exhale.
"You can get anything through if you put it under your nutsack." Veronica looked at him with huge eyes. "I'm just joking!" he chuckled.
They sat on the bed and finished the joint while watching TV. Neither of them said anything else, nor did they really pay attention to the Friends rerun they were watching, consumed in their own thoughts of the day's happenings, but thanks to the joint, weren't too worried about it. Just sitting back, considering the possibilities of what Madame Charity had said to both of them.
Kemper kept thinking, "A witch? A witch? The lady must be crazy!" It's not that he wasn't open to the occult, but wouldn't somebody know that about themselves? But he did have to admit that he had pretty good natural instincts and exceptional luck in business. The craft had always intrigued him, but it didn't seem like something that actual people did. Just something you read about or saw in the movies.
He would do as Madame Charity suggested and consider it some more, but later. Right now, his brain felt like mush. Coping with a total stranger telling him information about himself that had been true was nerve racking enough. Madame Charity knew too much. To wrap his brain around whether that made the gypsy credible enough for Kemper to believe that he was some kind of sorcerer was still questionable. He wore Gucci for God's sake! Witches don't wear Gucci! Do they? It was all too much right now.
Veronica was doing the same, thinking. What "sorrow" was this woman talking about? She wasn't sad, lonely maybe. She had a husband, a nice apartment, and she could stay home doing what she loved. What did she have to be sad about? Madame Crazy obviously didn't know what she was talking about.
Well...
If Kemper wasn't around, she really didn't smile that much. And even when Todd was home, he kind of...ignored her. He didn't do it on purpose. It was just that he didn't have much free time, so it was important that he used what little time he had to relax, so that meant watching sports, playing golf, or poker night with the guys. She tried to be part of those things, but he seemed to prefer to do them without her.
When they did spend time together, he was more often than not in a bad mood over something at work. And God forbid she ever had something that she wanted to vent about. He would always say, "You have no right to complain, you have it made. You get to stay at home and practice your hobby all day." So, she doesn't grouse, except to Kemper.
Well...
Maybe she was a little sad.
"I'm starving! Let's get dressed and go down to the bar. My munches are kicking in." Kemper touched her arm, bringing Veronica out of her contemplation.
"Sounds like perfection."
They got ready, helping each other primp. Kemper put on an emerald tie pin and a hematite ring band, and Veronica had a lobster-clasped ruby bracelet and ring to match her dress.
"Here, let's put on some of my sandalwood and vanilla spray to make us smell as sexy as we look." Kemper sprayed his pulse points, and then handed the bottle over to Veronica who did the same.
Veronica loved her and Kemper's ritual of getting dolled up together and going to dinner. She could always count on Kemper to lift her spirits with the most insignificant of activities, making her forget why she was ever upset in the first place...temporarily at least.
Picking up her new beaded purse, Veronica loaded it with the essentials. Lipstick, compact, cigs, and Kemper's spare room key all went in the bag. Kemper handed her the glass tube of perfume, and that was dropped in the essential-keeper as well. "Let's go," she said snapping her purse shut.
They took the elevator down to the lobby, making their way to the Swizzle Stick bar with its gold light, colorful artwork hanging on the buttery yellow walls, and the crystal ship behind the bar sending prisms across the room.
It was a little after nine o'clock, so it was beginning to get fairly full. They took two seats at the bar and ordered two glasses of white wine and a plate of lemon pepper fries to satisfy their ravenous state. They sat sipping their libations and munching on their appetizer, pretending they didn't see all the lascivious stares from businessmen staying at the hotel. Generally, these men tended to be married, so Kemper ignored them, feeling sorry for their spouses.
Kemper knew he should be on the prowl for a man, it had been almost a year since he'd had a date, but usually when he did attempt to meet men his instincts failed him and he seemed to have a knack for locating the jerks that wanted only one thing. When he had been asked to do it in a public bathroom for the fifth time in his life, he had decided to stop trying to meet men all together.
He was so disgusted with his pitiful love life, that he sold his New York apartment, much to Chuck's dismay. He felt he would have no excuse for social visits if it weren't for his apartment. Now he only came to town if business called for it, and it gave him an excuse to stay at the Waldorf. Chuck was eventually appeased, though, when Kemper had promised that he and however many of his friends had a lifelong invitation to the Bahamas every Thanksgiving. He still pouted a bit, but in the end agreed saying that they would start a new island tradition of Gaygiving.
There was no longer any true gentleman out there. Chuck was the only decent man he had ever met, and of course, they didn't like it other like that. So, for now he accepted his Fleshjack as enough of a social life for now. He still hoped to meet Mr. Right someday, but he thought that he probably wouldn't know him if he saw him.
After finishing their appetizer, they ordered two more drinks and had their name placed on the list for a table at the hotel restaurant Café Adelaide. The friends sat talking until their name was called. There were always new fashions to discuss, recently read books to share, and what music was worth listening to. Kemper and Veronica could stay entertained in the bottom of a cave.
They made their way into the dining room, and before they reached their blue booth, he heard someone calling, "Kemper? Kemper Woods?" He turned to see Justin Posey coming toward them.
Somewhere far away, he could have sworn that he heard a record screech to a halt as every movement the man striding over to him made was in slow motion.
Tall and lean, with soft brown eyes and sandy blond hair that waved just a bit, Justin was his first love. His only love, really. But right now, as he causally strolled up to him, inside he revered him more like a golden god than his old high school boyfriend.
High school had been years ago, but he still remembered how much he had loved Justin. Sometimes at night, when he was feeling lonely, he allowed himself the luxury of re-playing a few of the memorable moments of their relationship. But unfortunately re-living those memories came with a high price because in time he would eventually remember the bad with the good, and he would soon be engulfed in nonplus regret. Living in regret, though, was not a practice that he undertook. So, he would wipe the slate clean of retrospect as fast as the discomfort was felt and try and remember not to dive into those memories again.
Somehow, he realized that the record screech was in his head, and things were moving much faster than he wanted. He didn't know how to feel seeing Justin now, but Kemper put a smile on his mouth and told himself he was okay, regardless of his whirlwind of emotions. He felt like up was down, and left was right, and the only thing Kemper could concentrate on was him.
"Justin Posey." Saying his name was an emphatic statement without Kemper trying to make it that way. "What brings you to New Orleans?" It was the first words he had spoken to him in almost six years and he was impressed by his own airy attitude.
"I'm here for a job interview. What about you? Do you live here now?" Justin was smiling broadly and Kemper was surprised to see that Justin actually appeared thrilled to see him.
"No, Veronica does. You remember Ronnie, don't you?"
"Yes, of course I do. How are you Veronica? It's so good to see both of you! Who would've ever thought that we'd run into each other here in the Big Easy?" He looked as if he wanted to hug both of them for a moment, but settled for a couple of firm handshakes.
"Why don't you join us Justin, or are you here with someone else?" Veronica inquired.
Kemper could have shot her.
"Actually, we were just done here, so if you don't mind I will join you. I'll have dessert while you two have your dinner. There is a root beer and white chocolate biscuit pudding that looked intriguing. If that's okay?" He looked straight at Kemper. Then he glanced down, then up him.
This might be fun, Kemper thought. "Sure, that sounds good." He aimed Veronica a dirty look. She just smiled sweetly in return.
They all sat down and started looking over the menu. "So Veronica, you live in New Orleans now? A lot better than little Hobbs, New Mexico, huh?" Justin asked.
"Yes, a lot better. It doesn't take much imagination to do my art here."
"That's right, you paint. Is that why you're here?"
"Oh, not really no. My husband's job is here. We moved here soon after we graduated college; that's where we met. I only play at my painting, nothing serious." She smiled meekly.
"Don't listen to her," Kemper interjected, "she's terrific and will be very famous one day."
"Says you and Madame Charity. But thanks, Kemp. He is always trying to puff up my head." Veronica blushed a little. "How about you, what are you up to these days? You said you were here for a job interview?"
"Yeah. There's a division of RTV here and they want me to work with them. I'm thinking about it. I'll probably do it because RTV could use my help," he gloated with a cunning smile.
"RTV, the rock-n-roll music channel?" Kemper scratched the side of his neck, drawing Justin's eyes to his throat. He thought he would feel more nervous at seeing Justin again, and without warning, but he was actually finding it amusing.
"That's the one. It's been going down a bit since boy bands and hip-hop became so big. I'm hoping to help them bring a new edge they need to bring it back up."
"Well, I wish you luck," he volunteered genuinely.
"Don't need any luck, but thank you just the same." Justin gave him a tiny nod.
He was thrown off a moment by the flutter he felt in his chest by only a little nod. "It sounds like a wonderful opportunity," he finally managed, but in a higher voice than he would have liked. What happened to his easy attitude? One nod from Justin and he discovered it had merely been a charade.
He took a breath and regained his composure, outwardly at least and said, in a normal voice, "I know you always wanted to get into television." Looking him over, he wondered how it was possible that he looked better than he did in high school? He seemed to have grown up, at least into his looks.
"What about you, since we're all catching up, what have you been up too?" Justin's eyes pierced Kemper's and his stomach dipped.
"You really don't know? I thought a small town like Hobbs was always a gossip mill," Veronica asked him.
"Well, I really haven't been back much since college. I knew you had moved away, but not why. You know how your parents are, they don't tell their business to anybody."
"That much is true. And it's not like they ever go to the country club to converse with the kind of people that your parents or friends would know." Kemper smiled kindly so he knew that he wasn't being tacky, just truthful. "Well, I moved to the Bahamas when my internet company took off. I started a bath and body business." He felt his smile grow as it always did whenever he discussed Aroma Essentials. "I'm really proud of its success; I think I've helped a lot of people."
"Think? You undoubtedly have," Veronica corrected. Turning to Justin she informed him, "He gets letters all the time saying how much his products have worked for them."
"Now you're trying to puff up my head, Ronnie."
"It's all true, though," Veronica brushed at him.
"I'm impressed. Congratulations Kemper, you have done well for yourself, so it seems. I remember you talking about starting your own business one day. What's the name of your company?"
"Aroma Essentials," he answered him shyly for some reason, Kemper didn't know.
"I've heard of that! My mother swears by your headache lotion."
"Really? How nice. I'll have to send her a case of headache products." Kemper had a small, smug smile, pleased that Mrs. Posey finally approved of something he did, whether she knew it or not.
"She'll love that. I guess I always figured you would become a model," Justin commented easily. "I mean, you talked about that too, right?"
"Only to you and Ronnie. That was more of a kid's dream, like wanting to be a movie star or an astronaut."
Kemper's shrimp and grits and Veronica's citrus-sesame crusted salmon came and the conversation between the old, newfound friends continued. Kemper relaxed into the conversation, putting aside the lung crushing emotions that threatened to pop up occasionally, and tried to pretend that they had always been friends and never enemies. Besides, it was never his decision to become enemies. They reminisced about old times and discussed new ones, getting to know each other all over again.
"Do you remember that night we were all at my house, the folks were out of town." Justin had begun speaking a bit slower after his fourth drink, as well as he began to gaze more freely at Kemper's legs and crouch that were not entirely under the table. "Ronnie, you were dating that guy on the tennis team, what was his name?"
"Clint is who I think you're talking about," Veronica answered him grinning, remembering the story he was recalling.
"That's right, Clint the tennis player. Anyway, Kemper, you were wearing that white Polo and you spilled one of those nasty strawberry wine-coolers you used to love to drink all over it using the bottle as a microphone." He gave Justin a lopsided grin remembering. "You said your mother would know that it was alcohol, so our drunk asses snuck in your bedroom window just to get you something to wear to Dave's party that night because you hated all of my shirts, even though you had picked half of them out."
They laughed recalling the ordeal of Kemper having to climb the tree to his window in loafers. "We tried to wash your shirt at my house," Justin continued, "and not only did we not get the stain out, it shrank!"
"I had a hard time explaining that one." He laughed with Veronica and Justin so hard, the waiter began giving them looks.
It was getting late, so Veronica had a cup of coffee before her drive home. Justin and Kemper both walked her to the hotel lobby door and waited while the valet got her car.
"It was really good seeing you again, Justin. If you move to town, give me a call and Todd and I will have you over for dinner. I'm in the book, Facebook that is, and my new name is Smithson." Turning to Kemper and giving him a hug, she extoled, "Thank you so much for everything and coming to my rescue again! I promise I'll work on my 'sorrow' so I don't have to bug you so much anymore."
"Don't do it for me sweetie, do it for you! And you don't bug me ever!" He squeezed her a little bit tighter. They had yet to discuss what Madame Charity had told Veronica about her "sorrowful heart," because Kemper knew it was there and Veronica would only deny how bad it truly was.
Her shiny black SUV came and the friends waved goodbye one more time as she drove away. Then Veronica left, leaving Justin and Kemper looking at each other, unsure of what to do next.
"Well, do you want to come up for another drink?" Kemper offered, regretting it the moment he did. He should be running from being alone with Justin, because the hurt was fading far too fast, and heat was building at twice its rate.
"Do you really think we should? I mean, have another drink?" Justin questioned in a tone that made Kemper unclear on what Justin was feeling at the moment.
"What's the matter, Justin? College make you soft, you can't hold your liquor anymore?" Striving not to think about how sexy he was now, especially in that pinstripe suit, his heart began pounding as the back of his neck tickled with heat. He now willed the bad memories to come back and settle his thumping heart, but his mind refused the instructions and he could only remember the way Justin kissed.
"Of course I can hold my drink; I was thinking about you." He tilted his chin down looking at him greedily and then added, "More like I was thinking about how amazing you look in that suit. You look so grown up and sophisticated. I've never seen you like that before."
Kemper said nothing, but had no doubt that his flushed complexion was answer enough for him as Justin's eyes darkened and reached his hand out to trail lazily down Kemper's arm.
This was terrible! He told himself to run, but his legs weren't moving. Even his body wanted sex more than he did!
Without realizing it, they were standing in the elevator. It felt as if the air was being sucked out and the furnace turned up to an un-godly temperature. They stood looking at each other, not speaking. The silence was not difficult to interpret, though. His so-called intuitive powers were not required to know that Justin wanted him, and that Kemper was encouraging it with his unabashed stare.
Ding! They had finally reached the tenth floor. He led the way to his room and Justin followed, trying not to be obvious that he was enjoying the view.
Where was his self-control? In the car with Veronica, apparently, and long gone. Or perhaps he accidentally left it in the bottom of his last glass of wine.
He opened the door to his room and sat down cross-legged on the loveseat. He didn't want to move, he might give himself away more than he already had. He would just sit on the couch and attempt to be cool, though his rapidly swinging foot made him look nervous instead of cool, calm, and collected like he wanted.
"Do you want me to make us some drinks?" Justin asked after Kemper did nothing and left him hoovering at the door.
"Huh?" Kemper found himself wittily retorting, totally in another world. "Oh sure, sounds fantastic. Anything with vodka."
Justin moved to the mini bar and proceeded to make the drinks. He made Kemper a vodka tonic and popped a beer open for himself. "Are you okay?" He handed Kemper his glass.
He took the drink and tried not to look at him. "I'm fine. Why? Are you okay?"
"I'm great, you just seem to be...preoccupied," Justin guessed, attempting to make eye contact with him.
Finally directing his gaze to Justin's face, "You don't think this is weird after all these years? I just figured I'd never talk to you again." Looking away again, he added, "And I didn't expect to feel this way after this long." He sipped at his drink like a lifeline, like it had some answers to give him.
"Well, I sure didn't plan this, but that's all in the past, right?" He took a swig off his bottle before taking off his jacket and setting it on the bed, lighting a cigarette.
Kemper looked at him and narrowed his teal eyes. "Calm down, it is all in the past," he told himself, trying to keep a cap on his annoyance that sprung up at Justin's blithe manner. The broken heart of that break-up is healed now, remember? "You're right, it's all in the past," he replied.
He was beginning to frustrate himself with his ambivalent emotions. Did he want to be with Justin tonight or not? There were only two reasons to bring someone to your room, to sleep with them or to throw them out. Which one did he want to do? He changed his mind every minute.
Sure, Justin looked damn good, but was that a reason? And he was familiar, which was nice since it had been so long since he'd had sex with anyone. But he couldn't deny Justin's past treatment of him was a large deterrent. Right now, Kemper had to decide which past he should put behind him. Did he remember the good they had together and sleep with an old gorgeous boyfriend, or did he remember the sting and kick his ass out, leaving them both hot and bothered?
"That is one thing I will always remember about you. Sometimes it seemed as if you could make your eyes a shade brighter, almost like they glow." Justin crossed the room and took Kemper's chin in his hand. His irritation melted away in an instant.
"Yes, it's a special talent that I possess. Didn't I tell you I can do magic?" He couldn't help but grin at him teasingly. Kemper chose to remember the good.
"I've always known you could do magic." Justin took his hand from Kemper's chin and stroked his cheek. Kemper took the cigarette from between his fingers, his touch lingering on Justin's skin, then took a draw of smoke before snubbing it out. Justin continued, "But I do know what you mean. I never would have figured that we would be friends again, but that's because our lives have gone in different directions. My feelings for you have never changed. I just knew we were meant for different things. Do you know what I mean?" Justin sat next to him on the loveseat.
"I do. No matter how much it hurt at the time, I always knew that too." It did make Kemper feel better to hear those words.
"It is amazing to see you again. I can't get over how gorgeous you look. I didn't think it was possible for you to be handsomer, but you are. You've really grown into a striking man, Kemper."
"Thanks," he whispered. His face suddenly became red hot and he took few breaths before he finally confessed, "I can say the same for you. I kept thinking all night how grown-up you look, you were always handsome, of course. Man, this turned into a smooze fest." Kemper pulled his eyes from his, wishing he had that cigarette back.
"Leave it to you to make the mood lighter. You haven't changed too much. Let's see if you kiss any different." Justin was kissing him. His lips were soft, mouth parted, tongue barely fluttering. The kiss may have been light, but the impact wasn't. A galvanic zing zipped down his spine. It was one of those kisses that was felt everywhere. It heightened the senses and left his nerve endings tingling. Kemper would have been ecstatic doing this forever.
Justin leaned back and Kemper took a sip of his vodka tonic.
"I think you've had enough of this." Justin took his drink from him and set it to the side, then wrapped his arms around Kemper and engulfed him in another kiss.
All Kemper could do was hang on. He couldn't have stopped Justin if he wanted to. But he didn't want him to stop. Energy like flames was rising off each of their bodies, molding them together causing every inch of his skin to sizzle. He put his hand on Kemper's throat and caressed his neck until he practically purred like a cat.
Justin's mouth moved down to his neck, and his hand to his chest, now caressing his abs and pecks over his waistcoat until Kemper moaned. His hand continued to move downward, inching his way down to Kemper's belt buckle, over his hips, skimming the length of his thigh leaving a torrid trail on his flesh while Justin consumed his mouth again.
Kemper un-tucked Justin's crisp white shirt, giving him access to smooth his hand over his firm torso. His skin was soft and prickled at his touch. He knew without looking that the skin there would be tanned golden. Justin sucked his breath in allowing him room to sleekly slide his fingers passed his waistband, skimming the soft hair that trailed down to more pleasure. Removing his hand, he unfastened Justin's pants. First caressing his length outside of his black boxer briefs, Kemper slipped into them and eagerly cradled his hand around him as Justin breathed heavily into his neck. His velvety, rigid sex felt miraculous in his hand. Was he bigger than he used to be? He had more girth to be certain. He squeezed the hot flesh, relishing the weight of it in his palm.
He was lost in a mesh of reminisce as he smelled Justin's familiar scent, leather and forest, as his skin remembered the way Justin sucked at his neck, always managing to nibble on the spot that made his lower back tickle and his breath hitch. Pulling at the knot of his of tie, Justin unfastened the top two buttons and began plying kisses further down his neck when Kemper began moving his enthusiastic hand up and down his sensitive sheath.
Suddenly his hand was in Kemper's pants. "Oh God," he could not help but mumble. They began moving together; Justin knowingly testing his steely hardon, Kemper gently tugging his erection.
Bringing his palm up and over Justin's cock head, bringing the copious amount of pre down to slick his pushing and pulling motion, Justin moaned, "Oh yes! Oh yes, baby!" His tight grip began moving rapidly on Kemper's length. Kemper couldn't form words, his ecstasy came out as whimpers and unintelligible syllables.
Annoyingly in the middle of this, a part of his brain stepped off to the side to comment on how absolutely bizarre it was that he was in New Orleans, years after Justin broke his heart, sitting here on a loveseat jerking each other off. "And I'd like to enjoy it!" he told his brain. "So, shut up!"
It felt glorious! Kemper was doing everything he could to hold on. It had been so long for him, and he was ready to come. But he couldn't be the first, and so soon. He had to save some face in this situation where he had given in so easily to someone he swore he'd never to talk to again. He needed Justin to come first, so he pulled out all the stops.
His fingers wrapped around Justin in a flexing hold, bouncing with an occasional flick and tiny twist. His free hand had been in Justin's soft, wavy hair, but he removed it and brought it down to his balls. They hadn't pulled down their pants at all, so there wasn't any room for a second hand in his pants, so he rubbed Justin over the fabric. Massaging his sack, pressing his finger further back to his perineum. Justin spread his legs wider. "Fuck! Baby...fuck...yes!" His free hand was rubbing Kemper's bottom, squeezing the taut flesh unrestrained.
Finally, when he didn't think he could stand anymore and he would have to give in and be the first, Justin shouted out a noise like a roar and wetted his hand. Thank god! He let go, too and was coming before Justin had finished his final tremor. Bringing his hand to his mouth, Kemper licked some still warm liquid from his finger. Justin gave him a lopsided grin watching him, and then did the same.
"That I could never forget," he panted. "Kemper, you're amazing!" Rolling over on top of him, his tongue was in Kemper's mouth and his hips were undulating their cocks together, leaving no time to catch their breaths. Kemper was fine with that. His hands were on Justin's ass cheeks, pulling him harder into him.
Just about to wrap his legs around Justin's narrow waist, Justin was standing up and taking several steps back. "I think that I better go before things get out of hand, don't you?"
"You're the one who started it." Kemper grinned at him, driving his short nails into his palms to keep from reaching for Justin's tie and pulling him back down on top of him. He should have stopped when he had the advantage of making him climax first.
"I know, but I have a very early flight that I can't miss. If I don't stop now I know I'll be here all night getting no sleep, and I'll miss it."
Unable to stop himself, Kemper asked, "Not even thirty minutes?" He grabbed his swollen column, pointing it to the ceiling letting him know that he was up for another round.
Justin stared at his erection hungrily, rubbing his own that he had just put back in his now zipped trousers. He took a step forward, and with an exasperated growl and an impatient gesture of running his fingers through his hair, he proclaimed, "I can't. God, I want to. I want to fuck your ass all night, but I have a big day tomorrow, and I have to get some sleep. Right now I'll be lucky to get four hours. Maybe..." he pulled out his phone, scanning through it. "I might could cancel..." he muttered. "No. I can't!" he nearly crushed his phone in his frustrated grip. "I'm sorry. You'll never believe how sorry."
"We'll save it for next time we meet then. Now get out of here, before I throw you out!" He sat grinning like a Cheshire cat, pulling his briefs up. Perhaps Justin had changed. The boy he knew before wouldn't have stopped while he still had the hardon that Kemper could plainly see the outline of through Justin's pants. Perhaps now he was a man wanting a second chance at being thoughtful. He wouldn't hold his breath counting on it, though.
"You just might have to, you look so damn hot. Listen, the chances are pretty good of me moving to New Orleans. Do you think next time you visit Veronica, you could visit me?" Justin buttoned his jacket covering the top of his pants.
"I think that could be arranged. Don't go breaking my heart, though." Kemper said what he thought far too often.
"I'm not one to be trusted, so I wouldn't give it to me," Justin countered. Kemper knew Justin was right as he exhaled a large breath realizing that he had been holding it.
"Hey, you can always come and visit me, too. Let me know when you get settled here and I'll try to arrange a weekend with Todd and Veronica. It's a great place to get away to for some R and R. Here's my card." He took one out of his overnight bag.
He walked Justin to the door and he kissed Kemper lightly on the lips. "Sweet dreams," Justin whispered in his ear.
"I hope," he whispered back.