Chapter Thirteen

“Have a good evening, M. Terrien. I’ll be here to pick you up at eight. Please don’t worry about breakfast. We will be providing that for you.”

Jean-Paul thanked the eager young man, admiring the beauty of his features and his cocoa-brown skin. His smile was fetching, if Jean-Paul were interested, or if he were looking for a hookup. Thankfully, neither was interested in the other, because Jean-Paul was falling, ready to collapse where he stood.

“À demain,” he said. “I’ll be waiting here at eight.”

Now he studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He still looked so haggard that he had to wonder how he wasn’t having chills and body aches to accompany it. To say he looked sick would understate the case. He looked, as the Americans would say, like hell warmed over. There had been no friendly old lady to distract him on either leg of the journey to the beautiful island he’d be staying on for the next nine days. And the flight after the layover had been bumpy, to say the least.

He washed his face, glad he had not made any arrangements to hang out on Skype with Cam. He wanted no questions about his appearance.

Why was he keeping this a secret? He didn’t think Cam would sneer at him for his fear, or tell him it was irrational, or pity him for being weak. The problem was he didn’t really know how Cam would react. He thought he knew the American well enough to make some assumptions, but he could be very wrong. And his fear of looking a fool or a coward was as great as his fear of flying. No one needed to know. It didn’t affect the way he did his job, and his life was happy enough without flying.

Well, except for the part where he was having feelings for a man he would be leaving in four months’ time. How were they to carry on a relationship across thousands of miles if he would never be able to visit Cam? It was one thing to have to fly for work...when there was no choice, he did what he had to do. But visiting a potential lover? Was flying mandatory for that? After all, Cam could come to him. France was a great country to visit, and Jean-Paul could take him everywhere and introduce him to delights he would never find on the tourist trips.

Ce ne serait pas juste. He brushed his teeth as he conceded it would definitely not be fair to expect Cam to be the one always coming to see him. Any relationship worth having required give and take on both sides. And, though he had never been in anything even close to a relationship, he still recalled how his parents had been with each other. Their love had been so complete, so focused on making the other happy, that no one, including their sons, was ever left in any doubt of their devotion to each other.

Not wanting to think too hard about his family, he dried his lips and slid into bed. He had been met at the airport by the young French teacher who would be his escort for the next nine days, and they had gone directly to his hotel, where he had been told he’d be collected for the formal reception in three hours. He had desperately needed a nap, to at least get rid of the ache in his shoulders and back from the rigid posture he had maintained throughout the last leg of the journey.

The reception had been held at the Consular offices. It had been long and fairly dull, though the Consul as well as the Director of the embassy office of the Alliance Française in St. Lucia were among the important French dignitaries present at the event. He rolled to his side as he recalled the chatter about St. Lucia, where the French embassy for the Eastern Caribbean was located, about its French heritage, and about the desire to push for a deeper immersion in French culture for secondary and tertiary students in Barbados. He sipped decent enough wine, nibbled on cheese sticks and other light hors d’oeuvres, and listened to a speech welcoming him and looking forward to the work he would be doing with the teachers and professors.

He had been more than happy to be dropped off at his hotel afterwards, a lovely place on the ocean. He had been too tired to try for real food, but he had ordered a sandwich and a bottle of wine from room service anyway, knowing when he woke up he’d be hungry. Now he looked at the reflection of the fan on the ceiling and listened to the waves washing the shore a few hundred yards from where he lay. He could see himself with a lover here, relaxing against cool white pillows and lush bedding, wrapped in strong arms.

What was Cam doing now? Who was he with? What was he doing? Jean-Paul glanced over at the clock on the nightstand...barely ten. It was a Saturday night, and they weren’t a couple. Was Cam out on the town with some younger guy having a good time? Was he already with the other guy getting his itch scratched? The thought of Cam having sex with anyone else made a weird ache bloom in Jean-Paul’s chest that felt a whole lot like jealousy. What did he have to be jealous about? He was the one who had called a halt to the possibility of anything more between them after that steamy Thursday night, and Cam had been the one to reopen the door. He would have to wait for Cam and bear the pain of lost opportunities.

He rolled again, facing the open window. He could see the white caps as the distant waves crested and rolled in to shore. It was a night for lovers. The air was cool, and the sound of the ocean was a lullaby he welcomed. It would help him relax enough to forget his feelings and fall asleep. Tomorrow he’d be busy all day, and for the next nine days. He could pretend he was content with his life for another nine days. After all, he had been doing it for twenty-five years already. He closed his eyes and tried to forget the man who had come to preoccupy his bedtime thoughts, but nothing worked.

Giving in to the need that had begun to ride him as Cam’s face swam before his inner eyes, he slid his hand beneath the sheets and stroked his hard cock. It should be Cam’s hand on him. He should be listening with awe to Cam’s breathing quicken in tandem with his own. He should be reciprocating, giving Cam the same kind of pleasure as he should be receiving. His breath hitched as he stroked harder, imagining Cam’s talking dirty to him. He hadn’t known he could enjoy a potty mouth during sex until Cam made him blush even as they touched each other in the most intimate ways.

Breathing faster, he spat on his hand to ease his way, pushing aside the sheet and spreading his legs to get the full effect. He remembered Cam sliding his dick over his own, riding a wave of piercing pleasure before taking them both in hand and stroking them to a crashing orgasm. Merde! He was going to cum hard just from memories and wishing. He closed his eyes, needing to hold on to the moment but knowing it was almost over.

When his cell phone rang, he jerked his hand away as though he had been caught with it in the cookie jar. His breathing was ragged, and he knew he couldn’t answer whoever it was until he was calm. Still, he reached over and picked it up. Cam! He let it ring and when it stopped, he slumped against the pillows, his whole body trembling and aching with denied fulfillment. Cock-blocked by his imaginary lover! How Cam would chuckle if he knew. And how he would tease Jean-Paul.

A reluctant smile chased across his lips and when the phone pinged to tell him he had a text message, he unlocked it to see what Cam had said.

Camden: You must be out having fun. Just wanted to see how the flight was.

Jean-Paul remembered he had promised to let Cam know what his schedule would be like. Pulling the sheet up over himself, his cock now only at half mast, he responded.

Jean-Paul: Je m’excuse. I had a reception and got back about an hour ago. It was a long and tiring flight. What have you been up to?

Pulling himself into a sitting position, he dragged the sheet over his thighs and switched on the lamp next to the bed. Then he waited, hoping Cam would answer soon.

Camden: No problem. I had my next door neighbors over for dinner. They look after Sam for me when I’m away.

Jean-Paul let go the breath he had been holding, relief sweeping through him. He could handle dinner with the neighbors.

Jean-Paul: What did you make for them?

Camden: Nothing fancy. They have three kids, so I had to keep it child-friendly. I made barbecued chicken wings and home fries. Salad and wine for the adults, juice for the kids.

He knew firsthand how good it was to spend time with Cam.

Jean-Paul: I’m sure they all enjoyed their meal. Which wine did you choose?

Camden: I Googled it, because you weren’t around, and it said Zinfandel, so that’s what I got.

Jean-Paul smiled. It pleased him that Cam valued his opinion, even if it was only about wine. Maybe he could allow him to get close enough to value other more important things about him. What those things were, he didn’t know, and now was not the time to decide. Focusing on the conversation again, he typed, I’m going to call you.

Without thinking, he went into Skype and pulled up the video call feature. Only when he heard it tinkling did he remember he was half naked. He ended the call immediately, but before he could hop out of bed to find a shirt, Cam was calling back. Feeling like a fool for being so nervous—Cam had seen him without his clothes on before—he picked up the call and tried to make his smile sit naturally on his lips.

“Sorry about that,” he began, “I was just going to put a shirt on.”

Cam eyed him slowly, deliberately, looking past his naked chest down to his lap, covered by the white sheet.

“Why? You look fine.”

Was there a note in Cam’s voice when he said the word ‘fine’? “It’s not the way I usually answer the phone.”

Cam chuckled. “Well, maybe it’s time to shake up your routines, then.”

Jean-Paul looked at him, still fully dressed, his t-shirt stretching impossibly over his tight shoulders. He wished he would take it off, and said so.

“It is only fair,” he added. “That way, neither of us will be at a disadvantage.” He didn’t admit that he desperately wanted to lick all that glorious flesh.

Cam’s shirt flew over his head and disappeared somewhere behind him. “Better?”

“Much better.” And if I don’t stop ogling your chest, I am going to hyperventilate. He inhaled slowly to calm his nerves.

“So, what were you doing when I called? It’s a little early for you to be in bed, isn’t it? Unless you have an early call tomorrow.”

There was no way he was confessing that he had been jerking off to thoughts of the man now quizzing him.

“I was trying to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in. I have to be up and ready to go by eight in the morning.”

“I have a department meeting at eight, as well. Do you know if that’s going to be your schedule for the rest of the week?”

“No. I suppose I will find out tomorrow. I can let you know then. If I cannot call you for dinner, I will send you a text message.”

“Sounds good.” Cam smiled. “Next time I call, lose the sheet, okay? I like what it’s hiding.” He waggled his eyebrows, deliberately looking down and licking his lips before looking back into Jean-Paul’s eyes.

What was Cam seeing? He looked at the screen and saw that he was only visible from his chest up. So how did Cam know what was happening below his waist? He looked down at his lap and saw he was once again fully erect, tenting the sheet like a flagpole waving a flag. He looked up, determined to give as good as he got.

“Will you be joining me?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Cam’s wink was full of heat and promise and a little bit of mischief. “Goodnight, Jean-Paul. Talk tomorrow.”

“Bonne nuit, mon ami. Beaux rêves!”

After Cam hung up, Jean-Paul leaned against the headboard, his heart racing in time to new and lurid thoughts of video sex with Cam. Pushing aside the sheets again, he stroked himself fast and hard, racing to the finish he had been denied earlier. It didn’t take long this time, primed as he was by the sight and sound of the man he was lusting after, and by thoughts of them naked together on camera. Cum splashed his chest and abdomen as well as his fist, and he gasped as he came, whispering Cam’s name.

He went to clean up and returned to bed, sliding naked between the sheets, sated for the moment. But he lay on his side, not willing to arouse himself again. If he wanted to look at least halfway human in the morning, he needed to get enough sleep. And now he could, because his urgent need to cum had been met...for now.

When he opened his eyes next the sun was up, and its rays warmed his face. The clock said it was eleven minutes past seven. Time enough for a quick shower and a bad cup of coffee before he had to face the world. At least this morning he didn’t look like the walking dead. He could pull off human much better today, and he realized, as he pushed the tie through the last loop of the Windsor knot, that a big part of the reason was Cam. Even though he hadn’t been in the room with him, Cam had contributed to one of the best night’s sleep he had had following a flight in a very long time. The orgasm had been hard and he had been completely drained by the time his cock had stopped spurting cum.

Knowing he’d be in a bad way if he kept thinking about it, he deliberately focused on making the coffee using one of the pods in the machine and adding a packet of sugar to the paper cup. Then he checked to see that he had the room key and his wallet and phone, before picking up the coffee and his briefcase. Opening the door was a struggle, but he was still in time to make it down to the lobby, sit and finish the hot drink by the time his young escort arrived. Dumping the cup, he followed him out to the car, marveling at what a difference a few hours made.

The sun was high in the sky, and it had already heated the morning air sufficiently that a bead of perspiration began to form on his top lip. The air conditioning was on in the car, but Jean-Paul was not feeling its effect quite as strongly as he wanted to. It would have to do, though, as the car was an older model, and as the younger man explained, he had no other option.

“I apologize for the car, monsieur. Our regular car is in the shop for repairs until tomorrow.”

Jean-Paul smiled but said nothing; at least there was an end in sight. Before long, they arrived at the consulate, and he was immediately taken to a large conference room where a Continental breakfast had been spread out. The consul general greeted him first, followed by the three other people in the room.

“Please, M. Terrien, help yourself to the food. We will start the meeting at nine.”

After that, it was one meeting after another, and a tour in the afternoon. He was invited to dinner at the consul general’s home before being taken back to the hotel.

“Dinner will be at seven, sir, so I will return to pick you up at six-thirty.”

“Thank you. I’ll be ready.”

He had a couple of hours to kill. He’d send Cam a text message and then maybe go for a swim in the ocean. He stripped as he made his plans and changed into his swim shorts and a t-shirt. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled out his phone.

Jean-Paul: Salut! I have dinner plans this evening, so I won’t be around unless you are up later. For the rest of the time, I am on my own for dinner.

Cam answered almost at once.

Camden: Tomorrow night, then. Your place.

Jean-Paul grinned.

Jean-Paul: What time will be good for you?

Camden: Whenever you call, I’ll be waiting.

The implications of that stunned Jean-Paul. How had he managed to find himself a man who was so into him that he would wait around for his call? He didn’t for a moment think that Cam was easy, or clingy. Instead, based on the little he had observed, he knew Cam was focused and single-minded. When he wanted something, he went after it. How sweet it was to be wanted by him!

Jean-Paul: I’ll be here at seven, then. I’ll order dinner from room service.

Camden: So, what are you up to now?

Jean-Paul: Going for a swim in the ocean.

Camden: Remember you owe me a selfie. He added a grinning face to the message.

Jean-Paul: I remember. Hold on.

He stood up and went out to the little balcony outside his room. Turning his back to the ocean, he tried to find a good angle that would show him and the ocean at the same time. It was a bit awkward, but in the end, he managed to take a shot from above that showed his long body in the shorts, which was what Cam wanted to see. His face was out of the picture, because he wanted to show Cam the ocean behind him. When he sent it, Cam replied almost at once.

Camden: Nice shot, but where’s the face?

Jean-Paul laughed and took a quick shot of his face, adding a caption before sending it: You are very...how do you all say it? Needy. Yes, you are very needy.

He added his own smirking emo, then hit the “Send” arrow.

Five little laughing emoji were his response, before Cam added: Thank you. Enjoy your swim.

Jean-Paul: De rien. I’m sure I will.

He started to add something about wishing Cam were there to swim with him, but he deleted it and sent just the original, along with a hand waving goodbye. Putting the phone on the night stand, he grabbed a towel and walked out. Once he found his way down to the beach, he dropped the towel on a conveniently placed lounge chair, kicked off his flip flops and ran into the sea.

The water was warm, the waves gentle. This was the Caribbean Sea side of the island, and the tide was rising, and the swells were growing larger, but he swam beneath them, dove through them and floated on them, relaxing completely under their calming influence.

By the time he got back to the room, he had only half an hour to shower and dress, but he managed it, and was waiting in the lobby for his chauffeur to arrive. The consul’s residence was a lovely home a stone’s throw away from the ocean, and all through dinner Jean-Paul listened to the sound of the waves, letting it soothe the anxiety inside him. He wanted to be anywhere but here. He wanted to be with Cam, even if it was only via the Internet. He didn’t want to be civilized and diplomatic. He wanted to be raw and hungry and free, the way he knew he could be with Cam.

“Don’t you think so, M. Terrien?”

Jean-Paul heard his name with a start, and realized he had completely zoned out of the conversation. There was no way to disguise his inattention. He bit the inside of his cheek and said, “Je m’excuse. Please say again?”

The consul’s wife smiled and repeated herself, and he nodded and agreed with her, still only half attending to what was going on around him. He wouldn’t be seeing Cam tonight, so why was he so keyed up? Forcing himself to focus on his hosts, he managed to make it through dinner and remembered to thank them for a most enjoyable evening.

“If you need recommendations for the best restaurants, just give me a call,” the consul said as he walked Jean-Paul out to the car.

“Merci, monsieur. That is very kind of you. I shall certainly do that.”

Thankfully, his young driver did not try to engage him in conversation. There was only one person he wanted to be speaking to, and he had decided he would call Cam, if only to say goodnight, before he went to bed.

“As your meeting will be at ten tomorrow morning, I’ll be here to pick you up at nine, sir.”

Jean-Paul smiled at the young man. “Thank you. Have a good night.”

He waved as the car moved away from the curb and walked quickly into the hotel, barely managing to stop himself from running. He didn’t need anyone to think there was some kind of emergency because he chose to run like a maniac through the lobby. But he drummed his fingers impatiently on the railing at the back of the elevator, and fumbled with the key card in his hurry to get into the room.

He was making the call before he had even removed his tie, and when Cam answered, he was pulling it over his head.

“Hey there! How was dinner?”

“Delicious, though the conversation was not. It was boring at best. We had better conversations in DC.”

Cam eyed him hungrily as he unbuttoned his shirt. “Gonna give me a show, there? A strip tease?”

That had not been his intention, but it pleased him that Cam’s mind had gone there at once. It seemed Cam was easily turned on...unless he was always turned on when Jean-Paul was around. Which would only be fair, since that was how he was when he was with Cam. He wanted sexy playtime with Cam again, the way it had been that one memorable night. And he’d endure any lingering embarrassment. It would be worth it if it would ease the tension in his limbs and make him feel light like he had that night.

“I was just undressing for bed.”

“I’ll take that,” Cam told him with a smirk. “It’s been a while since the last show.”

He looked at Cam properly and saw he was already undressed. “You’ll have to return the favor sometime,” he murmured, shrugging out of the shirt.

“I think you’re right. And I’d like to do that sooner rather than later. What do you think?”

“I think I would like that. When do you have in mind?”

“I have a three-day weekend coming up soon after you’re scheduled to return. What say I come down and pay you a visit? I’ll get in on Friday evening and leave on Sunday evening.”

Jean-Paul couldn’t stop the smile that lit up his whole face. He would have a few days to recover from the ordeal of flying and be ready to welcome Cam back into his home. Two days and two nights with Cam...it would be his reward for opening himself to emotions again. He couldn’t wait to see him in the flesh after a month online.

“I can’t wait.”

He hadn’t meant to be quite so enthusiastic in his reply, but it was too late to take it back, and he didn’t want to, anyway. Besides, Cam’s response was priceless.

“Neither can I.”

His voice was husky and his nostrils flared as he stared at Jean-Paul out of dark eyes. The moment lengthened as they watched each other, the heat of desire swelling inside Jean-Paul.

“I am going to get myself a drink,” he told Cam, who nodded and said, “Hurry back. I have a beer already.” He held up the bottle so Jean-Paul could see.

He walked over to the mini fridge and withdrew the rest of the bottle of wine he had ordered with his sandwich on the first night. Pouring some into one of the coffee mugs, he took it and the mug back to the chair and set them down on the night stand before sitting himself and pulling the phone back to him.

“Here’s to happy reunions,” Cam said as soon as he picked up the mug again.

“Hear, hear!”