THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB Hugh
By and copyright Lady Poetess
Disclaimer This story is entirely fictitious and has no resemblance to anyone dead or alive.
PROLOGUE
James Marsden hated being called 'Jimmy'. His mother called him that, as did those who used and discarded him in his long-ago life. It only seemed apt that the blackmail letter addressed him as 'Jimmy'.
He was surprised that he was calm as he read the letter. He even contemplated -- quite rationally -- whether he should burn the letter and forget about it, or do what the letter demanded and get out of his employer's life. It was a silly demand for a blackmail letter, but James wasn't amused.
His eyes scanned the rest of the letter that detailed the past he tried so hard to flee from and to forget. When he finished, he shook -- with fear, he guessed, since he wasn't actually feeling anything at the moment.
Shock, he told himself. The panic would no doubt hit soon.
But panic never came. After all, the blackmailer knew him well. James Marsden was a coward, and he would never, ever dare see Hugh Jackman turn away from him in disgust or horror.
Very well, he had been running for what seemed all his life. He could do that again.
ONE
Maverick player Hugh Jackman was a classic success story. An orphan, who from Australia ended up in America, he started from an office boy into what he was today, one of the more successful power brokers in America. Only 32, he had already seven ailing companies on his credentials that he had bailed out of financial difficulties. The Bailer, as he was called, was acknowledged as ruthless, industrious, business-savvy, yet he remained a mysterious figure. His height -- six feet three -- only added to his forbidding stature.
No one seemed to know Hugh Jackman, his past or his present private life, and he was never seen with a partner male or female. When he went on vacations, his secretary and colleagues never disclosed his location. And the Bailer himself was a man who rarely spoke to the press, indulging himself in the luxury of using a spokesperson instead. Yet by all accounts, he was a hard but not unkind taskmaster, not well liked but generally agreed by people who had worked with him as a capable man deserving of their respect and admiration.
Who was Hugh Jackman?
Those who wondered might be surprised to realize that at the very moment, the mysterious Hugh Jackman was reading the shopping list his housekeeper had prepared for him, trying to figure out whether he should get the green bottle of detergent or the blue one. What was the difference between extra-fragrance and extra-softness anyway? Clad in simple brown jacket over woolen checkered lumberjack shirt, he looked more like a construction worker than a man worth twelve million dollars, which was how he liked it.
Since he could afford it, he decided to take both bottles. If one found it odd that he should be doing the shopping for his housekeeper, Hugh didn't at all. He could have told, if he was an eloquent man, that he enjoyed these simple daily acts. Maybe people would be more surprised if Hugh confessed that he enjoyed weekend shopping trips taken with James Marsden, his housekeeper.
He knew what to expect even as he drove up the driveway of his moderately large house. James would have everything ready for him. He knew, even as he opened the front door and smelled the air, that the house would smell of food, cleanliness, and warmth, just the way Hugh believed a house should smell. It might sound crazy but sometimes he would stand at the doorway and take in his home, as if he couldn't believe that he would actually be living in such a brightly lit, warm, and nice-smelling home.
And dear James, who even now would be in the kitchen preparing for Hugh's return. Whistling tunelessly, Hugh climbed up to his bedroom to change and shower. James would have a change of clothes put out on his bed, another change of work clothes hanging on the wall, and fresh underwear and socks always in their respective drawers.
When Hugh came down for dinner, he placed his hand on James' shoulder and squeezed playfully. "Ham sandwiches?" he asked hopefully, peering into the microwave Plexiglas pane.
James was packing away the things Hugh had bought. "Yeah, and there's some of the ice cream you said you wanted in the freezer."
"Nice." Hugh grinned stupidly as he studied the sandwiches in the microwave oven. He didn't recall telling James he wanted the ice cream directly, but that was the beauty of the housekeeper. James was so good in anticipating and meeting James' whims and needs.
If twenty-seven year old James Marsden's stunningly boyish good looks were more suited to gracing a fashion spread than cleaning house, James didn't let on. The man seemed content to be housekeeper to Hugh, and Hugh wouldn't want to rock the boat by asking James to spread his wings. The housekeeper came into Hugh's life five years ago when James walked into Hugh's office begging for a job, any job. Hugh didn't ask, he just gave James a probationary employment for a month.
One month stretched into five years. James had the knack of making Hugh's previously desolate life homely and warm, a home Hugh had only dreamed of. Hugh couldn't even remember his life before James.
"I really like the salad dressing you use," he told James.
To James Marsden, Hugh Jackman's house was a sanctuary. In the solid presence of the walls, he could pretend that his past never existed, and that his life started the day Hugh gave him the job as the man's housekeeper. All his life, James had only one asset -- his physical beauty. He couldn't do anything else, except that he could cook and clean house very well. Hugh valued him, James would like to pretend, and hence, in Hugh's protective presence, James felt free for the first time in his life.
All illusions, of course, that were easily shattered the morning when the blackmail note arrived. James' realization and fears became gospel -- his presence and past had allowed Hugh's business rivals to strike at the man. That James couldn't allow. He would rather die than to see Hugh hurt. Dying was a rather dramatic gesture that Hugh wouldn't appreciate (and James didn't want to die, in all actuality), thus James decided to remove himself from Hugh's presence instead.
It terrified him to strike out on his own again, but for Hugh whom he owed his life, he would do it.
It was agony smiling thinly through Hugh's good-natured banters when James' own emotions were at turmoil. But it was much worse when James timidly told the man of his impending loss of a housekeeper. Hugh's face was impassive, except for the brief flash of -- pain? anger? disappointment? -- that passed through the man's eyes.
"Will you tell me why?" Hugh asked.
"It's not you. It's just me," James said through the choked emotions welling in him.
"I'm sorry," Hugh said.
"Why? It's me who should be sorry. You were so good to me, Hugh, I don't want to leave. But I have to." James' couldn't speak aloud. He didn't want to see what the notion of leaving Hugh for the terrifying outside world was costing him.
Hugh only looked away, breaking the eye contact. "Well, go then."
With that, James was lost.
TWO
One week later
Hugh Jackman found his errant housekeeper closing up the drive-in burger stall two minutes to ten. Covering his brief elation at the sight of the man under his mask of nonchalance, he drove up to the window.
"You walked out from an overpaid post for this?" Hugh asked as casually as he could.
James jumped, then relaxed when he saw who was at the window. "Hugh."
"Hi," Hugh said.
"Hi. No one's making you dinner?"
"No." Hugh smiled as best as he could in his state of emotions. He was overjoyed at seeing James, hopeful, wistful in dreaming that maybe James would come back into his life and make everything fine again. At once furious at James for walking out on him and relieved at seeing him again, Hugh had to be careful or he would degenerate into a blathering mess before James. "You're closed."
"Yeah. But if you like, I can -- "
"Come have dinner with me," Hugh said, then hesitated "And pretend I'm just me and not your ex-boss? I could use the company."
Against his better judgement, James couldn't fight his elation at the man's suggestion. Here was Hugh, real Hugh. And tonight, surely it wouldn't do any harm to spend some time together? Just friends?
"Where to?" he asked.
"Well, maybe we can go back to my place and you make me some dinner," Hugh asked sheepishly. "And we can watch some horror movies together."
It was all James could do to walk away from Hugh's place. He couldn't go back there, but he couldn't tell Hugh no either, not when the man was looking at him that way, his handsome face daring while pleading James to have pity on him and say yes. James' eyes noticed then the small coffee stain on Hugh's shirt. How could he say no to Hugh?
"My favorite food," Hugh said happily before taking a bite on the pepper ham sandwich. "I'll double your pay, triple it, James, please be my housekeeper once again."
"Why can't you find another housekeeper?" James asked, sitting beside Hugh on the couch with a bowl of popcorns in his hands.
"Why should I when you've filled the position so well?" Hugh asked back. "I like the way you cook and clean. This place is falling to bits without you."
"Come on, don't exaggerate," James said, trying not to look at Hugh's questioning gaze. "I'm only a housekeeper."
"I thought you were my friend," the other man said quietly. "Or is that only on my part?"
James didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "You're my friend," he said. Truly, he had no idea how to tell Hugh how much the man had meant to him, or if he could at all.
"Then can we be friends still?" Hugh asked.
To James, Hugh seemed even shy at the moment, incredible indeed as he had never seen Hugh in any mood other than quiet contemplation or jovial self- confidence. "Yes," he could only say.
"And cook and clean for me?"
James laughed, he couldn't help it. "Don't push your luck," he said lightly.
"Just another one who ran away then," Hugh murmured, reaching for the remote control.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing."
"I heard you say something about me running away," James told him.
"Well, you did run away, didn't you?"
An accusation, under which James deflated. "Yeah."
"May I know why?" Hugh asked. "Not that it's anything, but I'd just like to know why you ran away from me. For record's sake."
He wasn't fooling James. "Hugh," James said in a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry."
"You're not the first," Hugh said, defensively. "So don't beat yourself over it."
"Want to tell me about it?"
"If you'll tell me why you left."
"Deal." James would regret this, but he wanted to know Hugh, to cherish the intimate thoughts Hugh would share to last his life.
"Well, everyone I grow to care for walk away, run from me actually. Eventually. If I want to be cliched, I can say it started the day my parents died on me after promising to return. Or my friends in the orphanages who got adopted, leaving me behind. Some very few ex-boyfriends whom I care enough to sleep with, but they all walked out eventually. And I can't stop them from leaving. Like you." Hugh looked defiantly far away across the room, his eyes hard and glittering. "I'd like to know why. Is it me? All I want is a home I never had, clean sheets free from lice and home-cooked food. And someone who would never walk away from me without a glance behind. That's all. Is that too much to ask?" He smiled bitterly to himself and shrugged, as if he was trying to make light of what he had just told James. "Now you, why did you leave?"
"If I don't leave, my past will be exposed, and you may get hurt. It's blackmail. I don't know why, but they want me out of your life."
"So you made it easy for them," Hugh pointed out. "You gave them what they wanted."
"I couldn't bear to see you hurt."
"What is it about your past that could hurt me?" Hugh asked as calmly as he could.
James took a deep breath. "Marsden is my mother's surname -- I never knew my father. My mother is a high-class call girl, and I was raised among sex and drugs. I thought it was all a game, letting people flirt with me. Then I believed a man whom I thought loved me as much as I loved him. Turned out he didn't, and when I walked away, he didn't like it. So he and six of his friends broke into my place one night and took turns on me." He was amazed that he was saying this calmly. "And then they got careless and let me get hold of the gun I kept in my bedside drawer. Lots of blood and the bastards were all sons of prominent men. There was a long court case, all hushed since I was only seventeen then, but in the end I got off on self-defense."
"And for that, they think that could ruin me?" Hugh exclaimed gently. "Oh James, you are too naïve."
"I am, am I not?" James said bitterly. "I am so afraid. Working for you is the first act that gives me peace. I'm no longer afraid when I'm in your presence."
"People did say I look like a hungry wolf," Hugh said.
"You're taking my story better than I expected."
"Well, I had that gun when I was fourteen," Hugh said. "So what if news got out that my housekeeper shot someone before? I don't care."
"I don't want to see you hurt."
"You hurt me more by walking away," Hugh said bluntly. "I can't stand coming home to this house. You are all over the place. I keep smelling the food you cook and I imagine hearing you humming around the house. Sleeping isn't the escape I need because then I dream of you instead. Am I crazy?"
"Maybe you are. I have no idea."
Hugh chuckled. "So now you know," he said in a low purr, his face so close that his lips grazed James' lightly.
"I haven't had sex for almost six years," James said.
"Five for me," Hugh whispered back. "I'm as good as a born-again virgin." He swallowed James' laugh in his kiss. "Be gentle with me."
"Not bad. Pretty thick, and that's all that matters if you ask me," James said, measuring the thick cock in his hands. The cock throbbed in his hand, the veins pulsing with heated blood rush even as droplets of shiny fluids leaked in rivulets from the slit. "How are you feeling?"
James was still clothed while Hugh had allowed the other man to talk him into divesting himself of his clothes. "How would you feel if I am playing with your cock in my hands? I'm in pain. Maybe you ought to kiss my cock to make me feel better."
And James did just that, letting his lips touch the cock tip briefly. The soft feel of lips on him was enough to make Hugh close his eyes and shiver with pleasure from the brief contact. Then James let his lips touch that cock again, this time longer, he letting the tip of his tongue lick along the sensitive slit. The rough tip of the man's tongue on Hugh's smooth skin of the tip caused Hugh's stomach to tighten for relief.
Still, James hesitated, and Hugh understood. He was still wary of another man's touch on him. Old habits died hard. "James, it's me," he said softly, echoing his thoughts -- it was James, so it was okay. "Just me."
"Yeah. I know." James then let his mouth envelop the wide head as best as he could. And Hugh closed his eyes again, this time letting the sinful sensations of having his cock sucked wash over him. "Are you sure you haven't done this in years?" he had to ask later. "Oh, that is good, don't answer me, just keep sucking."
James' tongue, that mouth and its suction… Hugh was lost in an orgy of feelings as his cock was licked, sucked, and bit lightly in voracious hunger. He couldn't hold back -- it had been too long, and Hugh didn't know how much he missed this until now -- and then he was coming in James' mouth.
As the last drops were drained out of him, he waited for the feeling of being soiled and degraded to come. He felt nothing but relief and an unfamiliar warmth in his being, however. And when he looked into James' eyes, he saw the same emotions mirrored back at him. James only looked at him as if he couldn't understand Hugh but he didn't want this moment to end. Hugh saw James hesitate, then James shook his head fiercely, as if he was fighting off some inner demons. He pulled off his shirt.
Unlike Hugh's hirsute body, James' was smooth and almost devoid of hair. James' body was also sleekly muscled, unlike Hugh's rougher, coarser muscled form, and for a moment James seemed fragile and vulnerable in Hugh's arms. But there was nothing fragile about the way James' mouth closed over Hugh's, and Hugh let go of his caution. He rolled over James, covering the man, and let their tongues explore each other's mouths. James' touches on him were at first tentative, cautious, and even fearful but as Hugh kissed the man's reservations away the man grew bolder. James' fingers bit into Hugh's buttocks, urging him on, and several fingers even slipped past Hugh's tight sphincter.
The invasion only made Hugh ground his groin tighter between James' widespread legs. The head of his cock pressed against the tight ring of muscles of James' sphincter, then Hugh gritted his teeth as he felt James' tight flesh gave way and his cock started sinking into tight, unbelievably smooth, and wet heat. James screamed, he really did, as the long-forgotten pain/pleasure of being filled to the hilt scoured his senses. "Don't stop," he urged Hugh however. "Oh Hugh, I have forgotten."
"Me too," Hugh gasped back, every muscle in his body tensed as he tentatively withdrew a few inches of his cock. James protested, and Hugh sank back in. Then James' hips lifted, allowing Hugh more access to his anus. Hugh moved his hips, drawing them both into a rhythm that was at first awkward, then languid, and finally urgent as the tides of orgasm started to swell upon them both.
And James was laughing, tears in his eyes, when he came.
"Don't walk away from me ever again," Hugh demanded fiercely. "I'll just keep coming after you."
James nodded.
"I hope you won't take this the wrong way, but I think you have a great body," James said later.
Hugh looked at the man whose head was on his chest and then down the length of his body. "You think so?" he asked.
"I always have a thing for hairy men anyway. There's something about dark hair swirling around nipples. And the feel of my fingers along the hairy line down your stomach -- " James' fingers demonstrated just what he meant, "-- and the thick crotch hair."
"I take it you'll come back to being my housekeeper?" Hugh asked.
"The blackmail?" James asked.
"I'll take care of it," Hugh said. "Leave it to me. Now, about the housekeeper post?"
"Okay," James said, closing his eyes.
"And you'll sleep in my room," Hugh added.
"That's so unprofessional," James murmured.
"Like what you're doing to my cock now," Hugh answered. "Come on, you'll be on top this time."
James swung his legs over Hugh's and looked down at the man. "Hugh, thanks," he said. "for everything."
"Yeah," Hugh said impatiently. "I'm thankful, I love you too, I think you're sexy, et cetera. Can I fuck you now?"
And for that, James didn't stop when Hugh begged for mercy.
EPILOGUE
"And you have nothing to do with Anthony Boardsworth's suicide?" James asked skeptically two months later. He placed the plate of pepper ham sandwiches before Hugh.
"Well, I did have Dylan and Greg file some really nasty court papers. And I did threaten to have his investors withdraw from his crucial ventures. It's not my fault he can't take the stress and shot himself in the head. Hey, I'm not that happy about his suicide. I wanted him to really suffer, and he cheated me of it." Hugh munched on his favorite snack happily. "Oh, and Dylan is disappointed too. He was so sure the impending lawsuit would make celebrities out of his law firm."
"I don't think you should go after the rest of the men," James said. "Anthony sent the blackmail letter, and he's dead."
"But the other six haven't paid yet." Hugh smiled at James. "Dear sweet James, still thinking of my reputation. Don't worry, I'll just sabotage them financially."
"No stupid things like punching Bradley in the club."
"No." Bradley was currently in hospital with two broken legs from a car accident Hugh would swear he had nothing to do with, and he was facing enough financial crises to drive him mad. Bradley was out of the picture. "I won't bother Bradley anymore," Hugh said truthfully.
James scowled at him, not entirely believing him. Hugh smiled as angelic as he could back. Call him weird but he liked it when James nagged at him. It told him James cared enough for him.
"Trust me," Hugh told the man.
Besides, right now he had higher priorities in life. "Did I tell you that you still are a very beautiful man? I may have forgotten last night, but I really think you are," he said with all honesty. "And can I have more sandwiches?"
He had his housekeeper back and his life was okay again. His home was a home once more. Maybe tonight he would tell James that he decided life wasn't so bad after all, at least when James was in it. He hoped James felt the same way too -- maybe he would ask him that too tonight. One thing for sure -- he was finally starting to heal.
"Just don't get into trouble, okay? Are you okay, Hugh? You're grinning like a fool."
"I'm okay. I'm free," Hugh answered.