Page 14 of The Butler

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Deklyn

Mr. Carrington left the room and I was finally able to exhale. His presence kept me on edge and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep the charade going. I wasn’t a butler in any way, shape or form. In fact, I could barely maintain the ability to choose my own clothes or organize a cutlery drawer, let alone make wise decisions regarding the needs of a billionaire.

The moment Lincoln stepped from the helicopter had me tongue twisted. He had a polished look that I didn’t think money alone provided him. He was naturally a man of stature and the manner in which he demonstrated his gift oozed with his every move. Black hair, styled like Clark Kent, with deep blue eyes that pierced a person’s soul if you looked into them too long, had me on high alert that he wasexactlymy type. I had a major thing for five-o-clock shadows and his was evident by noon.

And now I’d seen the body under the expensive clothing and that had done absolutely nothing to quell my desire for him. Lincoln Carrington was so far out of my league that even standing next to him in the same room made me feel like I was in a different zip code.

My ex, Tom, was attractive in a more scholarly way than a sensuous way. I’d been a serious student so naturally I would be attracted to a man of college-tenured status. Tom was bookish and wore khakis with tweed jackets that had those leather patches on the elbows. You simply couldn’t compare the two men. But like Lincoln, Tom had a good body even though he was leaner with more of a runner’s build, whereas, Lincoln was stacked and more muscular in all the right places.

After three years on campus I’d been hit on dozens of times, and some were other professors like Tom, but I’d never strayed no matter how hot the interested party was. Cheating wasn’t my style. To be honest, I was a virgin when I met my first love, professor Keil. He swept me off my feet and I was willing to do whatever it took to please him in bed. He’d been an adventurous lover and I developed quite a skill set while under his tutelage. Inandout of the classroom.

I never cheated on Tom, but once he’d wiped me from his three-yearfuck ‘em and dump ‘emprogram, I sowed some oats. That would be a lie actually. I planted fields of oats the past year after being pushed aside for an even younger version of me. I was always safe and careful but I had definitely tried to fuck my way out of the depression. Being replaced was not a great feeling, especially when your replacement was an eighteen year old innocent boy who was right up the professor’s alley.

After three months of pain and agony while stumbling through my final year of college, I was practically a whore with a bottomless desire to fill a hole in my heart. I filled a hole alright but it was well below my heart region. No amount of nameless lovers could fill the need for true love. I’d truly been in love with my professor but look where that got me. Dumped, depressed, and aimless ever since. I wasn’t proud of my behavior but I refused to deny the whore days had happened. My desire for love was still strong despite the dozens of nameless hook-ups.

I finished folding laundered towels and stacked them under the massage table in the luxurious bathroom of the suite. I knew that bathrooms were called heads on boats but there was no way I could refer to the bathroom in Lincoln’s suite as a head. It was simply too sumptuous for a small word like head.

I finished and double checked all the items that Lincoln preferred for the shower, unscrewing the lids off of individual bottles of expensive brands and smelling them. The shower gel immediately stirred my privates when I recognized his clean scent of citrus. The thought of assisting him with a shower was damn near worth a beat-off session but that would be later in my room.

I lingered over the open bottle of shower gel and thought of his cock and how large and perfect it was. The track of groomed black hair that led to his cock was a trail I wanted to hike. A man his age didn’t get a six pack without a lot of intense workout sessions and he proved he must be working out like a mad man. His obliques stood out like handles I wanted to hold as he shoved his cock down my throat after I sniffed his low hanging balls.

One more deep inhale of shower gel and I needed release. Two weeks of seeing him naked? More like two weeks of masturbation material. If I couldn’t taste the real thing, feel the real thing, I could certainly recreate the images in my mind. Lincoln Carrington was a film producer and I knew without a doubt I’d be producing a few of my own R rated films in my mind.

The upcoming two week task was simple. Keep my heart out of the highlight reels.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Lincoln

Three more sets of lunges and my workout would be over. The battle I waged five days a week to keep Father Time at bay was killing me, but being left by the boy you’d planned a life with was the only motivation I needed to keep fighting the good fight. I stood staring in the mirror between reps and thought about starting my fourth decade all alone. I hadn’t planned on being at this juncture of my life and not having a solid love by my side, a possible family to share my incredible life with.

I was distracted though and wondered if Deklyn was in my suite or in his. Part of me wished they were joined even though his door was right outside mine and less than three feet away, but would that really be a wise set up? Probably not, but I had needs and he’d set off a five-alarm fire in my crotch. I was doing my best to ignore the warmth developing in my heart by concentrating on his physical assets instead. My fantasy of bad behavior was pathetic considering I was the leader of a massive corporation with far too many HR employees, and rules about dealing with team members. But I still found myself continually fantasizing about an employee I would be intimately working with for the coming two weeks. Maybe I should have hired him as a contract worker to avoid the possibility of overstepping boundaries, but I knew the rules. Hell, they were my rules to responsibly enforce.

But what if we shared a secret little tryst? Maybe there was a confidentiality agreement the two of us could work out. Would that be so bad? He was on a two week job and then our paths would never cross again. Starr could make sure of that for me, couldn’t she? I envisioned Bob getting wind of my diabolical plan and shitting his pants over lawsuit concerns. Bob could be such a fuddy-duddy but he did have my back and that was why he knew all my secrets.

Me coming onboard Action was a surprise visit for the crew. I hadn’t been scheduled until another sixty days out and I always did my best to provide a heads-up for the staff because I knew having me onboard added stress and a ton more concern about provisioning. As owner of the boat and a spoiled person as it was, if I wanted something like a particular food or beverage, I expected we had it in our supplies. Of course, my demands were unreasonable. I knew that, but having a team that met your demands was an acceptable part of their jobs. I’d learned to praise as big as I bitched, and my approach had worked for me in all of my varied enterprises.

I was blindsided when I stepped off the copter and saw the new butler. There were half a dozen or more other attractive gay men on the receiving line but none of them had thatthing. Deklyn had thatthing, and he had it in spades. Thethingwas a mystery actually. I knew it when I saw it but the look wasn’t something you could easily go scouting for.

* * *

I first experienced sex in Europe one summer when I was at my parent’s villa in Italy. They employed a swarthy gardener who caught my eye the very first day I walked the grounds, bored out of my mind as the only young adult on the twenty acre estate. I barely spoke a word of Italian and had turned eighteen that spring, so when I stumbled upon the shirtless God, all I could do was stare and salivate.

Gael was his name and he was thirty five and quite naughty, with a thirst for fresh, young, and smooth boys, especially barely legal ones. Him and I made a connection immediately with no long dances around the subject, and he was on me like white on rice within twenty-four hours.

Gael was older and as horny as a three-peckered goat. I was eighteen and oozed jizz from every orifice in my body. He wasn’t specifically a top or a bottom, and he gave me an introduction to every act of debauchery. I couldn’t get enough as his student and we fucked three times a day at minimum. In the shrubbery. In equipment sheds. Next toandin the pool. Wherever we landed worked fine for us both. He was a blond Italian, a rare breed actually, but fair skinned Italians are stunning and I know to this day, he ruined me for any other type of man. I was the boy in that summer fling but he was devoted to showing me how to be verse and to be a pleaser. I kept my favorite moves and moved on from the ones I liked less, but he trained me well and I’ll never forget him.

* * *

I’d had many short-term relationships that rarely matured beyond six months to a year. I’d never felt the need to nail anyone down and make it a permanent thing. To be fair to some of my partners, they chose to move on in equal numbers so the decision wasn’t always mine. I safely fucked my way through my twenties and very early thirties. When my parents died I was forced to grow up and face the fact that I would have to manage vast wealth. Thankfully I’d been educated with degrees in business and finance at one of America’s finest Ivy League schools to handle the money. I was hard working and fortunate to have been successful early on with my own investment opportunities thanks to a hand-up from my parents, but that took time away from the hunt for the perfect mate, and it wasn’t until I was thirty–seven that thethingI craved appeared again.

That thing was in the form of Troy, my last love, the destroyer of my heart, and the boy that got away. I was convinced that Troy would be the last person who possessed thething,thelook,and knowing I’d had it and lost it, tore me up inside. I was on the edge of forty-one, an age when being gay meant you either needed a ginormous dick or a ginormous bank account. I hated that about my sexuality and the participants in my world, but sadly the fact was true. Even money had proven not to be enough for me to hold on to the thing.

That was until a few hours ago when I shook the hand of an owner of thething, and he was on my yacht. What to do? What to do?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Deklyn

The cabin I was given was spacious and had all the comforts of home. According to Starr, my one and only job was to cater to Mr. Carrington and be on call for him around the clock, but I could also relax once the tasks were completed. I heard Mr. C.’s door close earlier and assumed his workout was done. He’d mentioned that he would shower at half past five, so I had laid out towels, stocked his shower with his assorted toiletries, and made sure he had two outfit choices on his bed. Each ensemble included shoes and the appropriate matching belt. I liked that part of the job. Having so many expensive clothing items to play around with made selecting the right combinations fun.Maybe I could do this job.

* * *

---