CHAPTER FOUR

 

 

BILLY STOOD on the sidewalk and stared at the shop in front of him. You have to be fucking kidding me. The sign was crafted in large script letters across the two-story stucco building. It said Shazam! Really? That’s what Shaz was short for? Just how highly could a person think of himself? Under that word it said, much smaller, Elements of Style. He could just run.

“Hey, sweetie.” He looked to his right and saw Rhonda and Mitch walking toward him. As always, Mitch looked like the cover of some magazine. Handsome as hell, his tall lean frame seemed to carry clothes like a fashion model.

“Hey, you guys.” He stuck out his hand. “Hi, Mitch.”

“Hi.” The guy shook Billy’s hand. Amazing how smooth his skin was. That’s what comes of never swinging a hammer. Mitch grinned. “Are you ready for this?”

“I don’t know, am I?”

Mitch gripped his shoulder. “Trust me, no one is really ready for Shaz.”

Rhonda slipped her arm through Billy’s. “Now, now. Shaz is amazing. Come on.”

He walked up on the porch with the overhang. Had to admit, it was a nice building. The owner had done some serious improvements, at least to the exterior.

Mitch pushed open the door, and Rhonda led the way into a beautiful waiting room. Those cool slatted benches Billy liked lined the wall under the big windows. It would be great to have something like that in his place. One end of this waiting room was furnished with two comfy-looking leather couches, and footstools covered in something like Persian rugs. Wow. He could get great ideas here.

A black-haired girl with piercings in several places sat behind a sleek desk. “Hi, Rhonda. You here to see Shaz?” She glanced meaningfully at the clock.

“Yes, hi, Millicent. He said he’d take a few minutes after hours today to work with my brother.” She nodded toward Billy.

The girl looked Billy over like he was hanging from a hook in a butcher shop. “Yes, I see.”

What does she see?

She picked up the phone. “Shaz. Your after-hours appointment is here.” She listened, then hung up. “He’s just finishing up. Please take a seat.”

They walked to the leather couches. Man, they were supermodern but really comfortable. Probably too rich for his blood, but he could look for knockoffs.

The girl walked over to them. Her outfit was as black as her hair—tights under a long sweater, and high-heeled boots. “Can I get you anything?” She grinned at Billy. “What’s the old saying? ‘Coffee, tea—me?’” She laughed.

Billy hoped the low light covered his blush. “Uh, sure. Do you have tea, really?”

“What, no me?” She chortled again. “Yeah. Want some ice tea? We have bottles.”

“Sure, that’d be great.”

Rhonda and Mitch asked for the same, and she left through a door into what must be the rest of whatever the hell a stylist had set up.

Rhonda winked. “You made a conquest. She’s usually so cool about everything.”

Conquests of women weren’t his problem. Hanging on to them was another story. “This is a nice place.”

Rhonda nodded. “Yes. Shaz is a master of all things stylish.”

A voice came from behind Billy. “Master, did you say, darling? Ah, call my name and I am there.” The high, musical voice danced up Billy’s spine, and he remembered the tune.

Why was he scared to turn around? Slowly he shifted and looked over his shoulder. Holy blessed shit. It was the same guy from the coffee shop, which made sense since the place was only three blocks from here—but still. If ever there was a guy who deserved to be called Shazam, this was the one. That was the word of a wizard, and Billy just got turned to fucking stone.

How did you get hair that color? The blaze of fire surrounded his face and fell well past his shoulders in spikes on top and undulating waves below. And his face. If somebody turned a cat, a Siamese cat, into a human, there he stood. Huge eyes with an upward tilt dominated the widest part of his face, above cheekbones so high they could cut glass, and a pointed chin. Maybe a girl would have called his face heart-shaped. Like a cat.

Their little army of three stood. The guy floated over and kissed Rhonda on the cheek. “Never fear, Rhonda dear, Shaz is here.” He laughed at his own rhyme. Music. This guy was so far over the top, he had his own cloud cover.

He extended a hand delicately and Mitch took it, more a touching of fingertips than a true shake. “Hello, Mitch darling.”

Just like the day before, his clothes were wild. Skintight jeans, in brilliant pink this time, hugged very long, lightly muscled legs. Billy knew about the muscles because they were on display in those pants. Above the pink he wore a white silky-looking shirt and a wild floral kimono thing over the whole outfit. Hoops glistened in his ears and a diamond nestled in the side of his nose. He was his own holiday. Christmas and the Fourth of July rolled into one.

He turned with a swirl of the kimono to Billy. “And this must be our emergency.” He stepped back. “Don’t we know each other, darling?”

Billy’s mouth opened and then closed. There were no words.

Rhonda put a hand on Billy’s shoulder. “Shaz, this is my brother, Billy Ballew. We’d like you to use your magic to give Billy a bit more style.”

Shaz looked up at Billy, his eyes widened, and he smiled, then reached out his hand again. Jesus, he wore fucking black fingernail polish. “Hello, Billy. So glad to meet you. Don’t be put off by my excesses. I’m not as dangerous as I look.” He popped his hip. “Well, maybe almost as dangerous.”

That would be damned fucking dangerous. Billy swallowed. Give me strength. With one swoop, he swallowed that graceful hand in his giant paw and squeezed. Surprisingly Shaz didn’t even flinch. He squeezed back, and that pressure rippled up Billy’s arm and set up sympathetic vibrations in his belly. What the hell? He wanted to sit back down and catch his breath. He didn’t move. “Coffee shop.”

“Excuse me?”

“I saw you yesterday evening at the coffee shop on PCH.”

Shaz nodded, his eyes never leaving Billy’s. “Yes, I remember, of course. I wasn’t sure if I should mention it.”

Rhonda looked back and forth between them. “You know each other?”

Shaz shook his head. “We didn’t meet, but your brother defended me against a would-be asshole who I feel quite sure would have punched my lights out given a chance.”

“Dear God. Why? What happened?”

Shaz raised an eyebrow. “Nothing happened. More a matter of being. The asshole felt I was not allowed to be.”

Rhonda grabbed Billy’s arm. “Oh my Lord, did you get in a fight?”

Shaz gazed up at Billy. “No, he didn’t have to. His mere presence was enough to dissuade the attack. My hero, for sure.”

Jesus. His ears were going up in flames.

Mitch laughed. “You had a busy evening yesterday, my man. Breaking up with women, saving men.”

Crap, did he have to put it like that?

Shaz cocked his head but didn’t smile. “So that’s what I was watching. A breakup. I’m so sorry. You looked upset.”

Billy nodded. “Yeah.” Could they please change the fucking subject?

Shaz seemed like he read Billy’s mind. He stepped back and gave Billy a sweeping glance. “My oh my, what exquisite raw material.” He walked beside Billy, looking at him closely. “A forty-six long, are we, darling?”

“Yeah, how did you know that?”

Shaz tapped a finger to his temple but kept staring at Billy like he was memorizing him. “Rhonda dear, thank you. This is a good one. I’ll fix him up for half price if you let me take some photos and use them as promotion.” He looked up at Billy. “So often men think they have to be a model size to be fashionable. I’d love to show them otherwise.” He smiled kind of sweetly. “Actually, I’ll do better than that. I’ll only charge cost to thank Billy for being my white knight—and for modeling.”

Billy frowned. “I’m no model. And I’m definitely not a knight.” Hell, he didn’t even know what he would have done if that bulldog guy had gone after Shaz. But half price sounded damned good.

“I disagree.” Shaz grabbed Billy’s bicep, and his eyes widened. “Oh my.” He fanned himself with the other hand. “Come along. While my staff is still here, I want to make a few notes. Then we’ll set up an appointment to style you and dress you, okay?”

Shaz was probably five ten and he came up to Billy’s shoulder. Still, the guy had absolute power. Billy had to follow. Shaz pushed open the door. “Hey, boys and girls, looky what I have.”

In the big room beyond, at least ten sets of eyes flashed to Billy. Died and gone to hell. Billy stopped inside the door, which had the effect of stopping Shaz’s forward motion like someone had thrown an anchor. He didn’t know how to feel. This was weird. This guy hauling him around. People staring at him.

Two women were being blown dry by stylists of indeterminate gender. Another woman appeared to be getting makeup applied. In a room that opened into the salon through an arch, a person was standing on a little stage getting a dress pinned. What the hell was Billy doing here?

Shaz looked up at Billy and must have figured he needed help. “Ruuuupert, I need you, darling.”

Through a door Billy hadn’t noticed before in the back wall came a guy who looked like a fashionable nerd. Tight plaid trousers with a white shirt, suspenders, a bow tie, and dark-rimmed glasses. Actually, kind of good-looking in a weird sort of way, but it was hard to notice anyone else with Shaz around. The guy pulled your eyes like a masterpiece by some famous painter. Monet or Van Gogh or somebody.

The man named Rupert kind of minced his way over to Billy and Shaz. “Yes, dear? You screamed?”

“Ru, this is Billy Ballew. A new client.”

Ru made a slow appraisal, from Billy’s scuffed sneakers to his sloppy sweatshirt and up to his uncut hair. “Oh my. Are you going to do him next?”

Shaz looked up at Billy through his dark lashes. “I’d love to do him, darling, but sadly I think we’re just sprucing him up for the ladies.”

Ru grinned. “What a waste.”

Jesus, Billy half wanted to run and half wanted to laugh.

Rhonda smacked Shaz’s shoulder. “Behave yourself. Billy’s so red they may have to call the fire department.”

Shaz smiled. “It’s all right. I love firefighters too.” He pulled on Billy’s arm. “Don’t mind me, Billy. Let’s sit you down and look at the hair, shall we?”

Billy let himself be hauled to the chair. The feelings he’d had at his mother’s house were creeping back. Spinning head. Couldn’t breathe.

The receptionist put a bottle of tea on the counter for him, and he grabbed it and took a sip; then he landed in the chair and was suddenly staring at himself with Shaz behind him. Beauty and the Beast. He gazed at his shoes.

Warm fingers slipped into his hair. No way. This isn’t happening. They pulled at his waves and scraped across his scalp.

“Billy, let your hair keep growing for another week, then we’ll style it for the wedding, okay?”

Rhonda said, “But it’s so messy. Shouldn’t you cut it now? We kind of want him to look great for, you know, social events leading up to the wedding.”

Billy peeked up at Shaz. Big mistake. The man had poised himself so that his head was directly above Billy’s. “Rhonda darling, are you so blinded by your beautiful fiancé that you can’t see how fabulous this hair is? Rich brown, perfect waves.”

Mitch muttered, “Yeah. It’s damned great.”

Rhonda frowned at her fiancé.

Mitch kind of ducked. “I mean, hell, what guy wouldn’t want hair that thick?”

Shaz slipped his hands into both sides of Billy’s hair and threaded it through his fingers.

Dear God, I’ve made it to purgatory. Billy shifted in his seat. Cannot breathe. “Is it hot in here?”

Rhonda patted his shoulder.

Shaz looked at Rhonda. “What we’ll do at our next appointment is clean up those eyebrows, give his skin a good work over, and, of course, do some shopping and tailoring.”

Rhonda bounced. “That sounds so great. When? Can you do it soon?”

“Ru, when can we begin?”

Ru’s eyebrows tightened over his nose as he searched through his tablet. “Hmm. We’ll have to work him in, but I think we can shuffle some things to start Monday.”

Rhonda squeezed Billy’s shoulder. Shaz kept stroking his head. The heat from his fingers seeped into Billy’s brain. There was some kind of smell, like maybe lavender or something. It was so strong—and so great. Good God, his cock was twitching. He squirmed, and Shaz just kept talking to Rhonda and massaging his head. He had another head in his pants that wanted massaging. This is so not good. Damn, if his sister looked down and saw him with a hard-on, what the hell would she think? Worse, what if Shaz saw it? He’d totally get the wrong idea. He had to get out of here. Needed air.

Breathe through your mouth. Then you can’t smell how delicious he is. “When should I come on Monday?” Hell, if this kept up, he’d come now.

Ru looked at the tablet again. “How about four?

Good. He leaped up and pulled his sweatshirt down. Shaz stepped back and looked startled as Billy started toward the door. “Okay, good. Monday. I’ll be here at four. Thanks a lot. Sorry to run. I just realized I’m late. Have a, uh, date. Sorry. Thanks again. See ya.”

He made it to the exit.

“Billy!”

“Sorry, sweetie, gotta go. Love you. Bye.”

He heard Mitch say, “What the hell got into him?”

Shaz laughed. That laugh was like music. “I think all this styling business was too much for a first visit. Give him some space.”

How come of all the people in the room, the gay guy was the one who got it? Well, kind of.

Billy hurried across the waiting room and burst through the front door. He couldn’t get to the truck fast enough. Running the three blocks to the parking place he’d been lucky enough to find, he jumped inside and stopped. This was the second time in two days he’d run. What the hell was he running from?

He cranked up the truck and started to drive. He should go home. Turn around and head south. Yeah.

He shivered. All he could feel were those hands in his hair. Maybe he just didn’t get enough physical contact with other people. Having somebody touch him like that, so kind of intimate. It screwed the wiring and confused him.

He kept driving north.

Shit.

He knew what that meant.

He’d only done it once, but it had been so amazing.

Dangerous. Diseases and shit.

What if he used a condom? Would it still be great? Jesus, anything besides his own hand would be a miracle.

What if I see somebody I know? That wouldn’t be the worst, since he’d have something on them too.

He was still driving north.

The ocean beat against the sand on his left as he powered from light to light up the Pacific Coast Highway.

Maybe just don’t think for a while.

Quiet. Ocean. Stoplights.

The short road came up on his right, a little side street in Seal Beach. The sign said Anthony’s. He’d found it in the beach city advertiser about four months ago. Just curious, he’d checked it out. Never quite knew why. It said they had darts. He liked darts.

On the next street over, a car pulled away and Billy grabbed the spot. Shit, that was luck. He maneuvered the old truck and turned it off. Was he doing this? His cock throbbed. Just not getting enough from his own damned hand. There were female prostitutes, but he didn’t know where. Plus the idea was too scary. Too disgusting. Guys were easy.

Just do it.

He hopped out of the truck, hit the lock, and walked down the dark street on the narrow sidewalk. A left turn took him past an alley. Noise. He stopped and listened.

“Unh, unh. Yeah, do it.”

Shit, his cock leaped. It sounded like his porno. He sped up, walked straight to the door of the bar, and pushed inside on one big rush of energy. Whoa. Body to body. Hot, noisy, smelling of aftershave and beer.

He slipped by a man who was blocking the door while flirting with another guy who was leaning against the wall. “Excuse me.”

The guy looked up and up some more. “Uh, sure, buddy.”

Billy eased his way between bodies to the bar. Every seat was taken, but he leaned between two guys and raised a hand at the big, hairy bartender.

The man leaned over and yelled, “What’ll it be?”

“Beer. Whatever you’ve got on draft.”

The bartender grabbed a glass, stretched over to the tap, and filled it. Billy threw ten bucks on the bar, grabbed the beer, and stepped away. Shifting a little, he finally got his back to the wall. You don’t have to stay. You don’t have to do anything. You can just drink your beer and go.

A guy who looked like he might be an accountant wearing a business suit and open tie sidled over to Billy. “Hi. Need another beer to go with that one?” His laugh sounded kind of nervous.

“No thanks. Waiting for someone.”

“Sorry, beautiful.” The guy walked away.

Damn. I should leave. This is stupid. He looked up over his glass. Holy God. Standing with a group of men in the center of the room was a twink. Small, graceful, blond, with some stuff on his eyes that made them look huge and pretty. Stuff like Shaz used. Billy knew about this guy’s eyes because they were staring right at him. He felt his cock start to stretch and cracked a half smile.

The guy smiled back, spoke to his companions, then walked toward Billy. Closer, his hair looked bleached and he had bad skin, but still attractive with great lips. He looked up. “Hi, I’m Perry.”

“Uh, John.”

The guy smiled. “Well, uh, John, want to buy me a drink? I like Dubonnet on the rocks.”

“Sure.”

Perry stayed by the wall while Billy pushed his way in and bought the Dubonnet. He got another beer for himself and carried the drinks back like a mighty hunter. Weird, buying fancy drinks for a guy.

“Thanks, big guy.” Perry sipped the red drink. He leaned closer. “So, what do you like?”

Billy frowned. “Uh, I should tell you I’m not gay.”

The boy’s lined eyes looked at him with pure laughter. “Sure. So you just like to come somewhere to get a decent blow job, right?”

“Yeah. You get that a lot?”

“Sure. A lot of straight guys come here.” He cocked a smile and took another sip. “So I assume you don’t like to give as well as receive.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“So you’d be buying me a couple bottles of Dubonnet, right? And maybe some champagne to go with it?”

He swallowed. “Uh, how would I do that?”

The guy gave a half smile. “You wouldn’t have to. You could just give me the money and I’d do it.”

Duh. How dumb can I be? “Yeah, sure. I can do that. You just tell me how much all those things will add up to, okay?” He should run like hell, but somehow a pro made it better.

“You have somewhere you want to go?”

“Uh, no. I live a long way from here.”

“Where are you parked?”

“A block away.”

“Okay, sweetheart. You give me, say, fifty dollars for my champagne, and I’ll take a trip to your car.”

Billy lowered his voice. “I’d want to use a condom.”

“That makes two of us. Come on, gorgeous. I’m going to enjoy the fuck out of this.”

Fifteen minutes later, Billy was hoping the fuck the cops didn’t come because he was screaming so loud he sounded like he was dying as his cock poured its load into the condom inside that guy’s mouth.