Chapter 10: Let’s Make A Salad

All right, at least he had managed to make the leather chair look decent after the online BDSM groups had supplied him with useful information on how to clean cum off leather. The best part was that he hadn’t needed to call Mark to the rescue, and a tissue and some rubbing alcohol that he had luckily found in the small vanity cabinet available in his office, had done the trick.

He dropped his head on his arms, as he stood there, knelt before the chair that had so silently accepted his semen tribute just earlier, and allowed himself a long sigh. How was he going to face Aron? Why was this happening? Only because he was in Alex’s body? That was the quickest, easiest explanation.

The only silver lining in that kind of explanation was that Alex still loved his husband. That was good. Maybe Alex wasn’t that bent on cheating. Maybe he was just used to the attention. Maybe the guy was flirtatious by nature, and that made people think they were entitled to ask him about blowjobs and whatnot. For Aron’s sake, he hoped that was true.

And that was getting him off the hook. Only the thought of having done what he had just done with Aron should have made him feel sick to the stomach, like the homophobe he was. But the truth was that he didn’t feel sick. He didn’t feel anything.

Actually, if he was to be honest, that wasn’t exactly true. He felt like his bones were made for something mushy and loose, and it was like he wanted to doze off. There was something delicious, pouring smoothly like dark honey, right into his bloodstream. And all he wanted was to close his eyes and...

Dream of Aron.

All right, he shook himself off and got to his feet. There was simply no point in indulging in that kind of thing. Aron was his best friend. Carter was straight.

Tomato is a fruit.

Oranges are sweet.

Let’s make a salad.

Good. He was back in charge of his own thoughts. No point in them wandering off to greener pastures. Those were beyond the horizon line, therefore uncharted territory. Luckily, his shepherd dogs were in top shape, and now all the silly sheep were back to the herd.

The steady knock on his door woke him up from his reverie. Good thing Mark hadn’t bothered him while he was still engaged in that hot session with Aron. He had a hunch Mark wouldn’t have judged him, but he was glad he had been spared the embarrassment.

Well, not exactly, he realized when he opened his mouth to urge the secretary to come in. He needed to unlock the door. What if Mark was going to ask him why the door had been locked? What was he going to say?

The knock repeated, this time a bit more energetically. Oh, damn, he needed to face the situation as it was. He walked quickly to the door and opened it. Mark smiled at him, in that professional way of his, but still full of warmth.

“Simon from Marketing wants to see you, boss,” Mark spoke softly.

“Why didn’t you use the phone?” he asked, out of curiosity. He had noticed the landline phone among the first things on his desk, and now he was looking at its sibling, installed comfortably on Mark’s desk.

“I heard you locking the door earlier,” Mark said, his eyes wide open and innocent. “I just wanted to gain some more time by just walking to your door and knocking.”

Gain some more time for me, Carter mused. Now he looked over Mark’s desk through the glass doors. Mark didn’t have the same luxury of privacy as he had. The secretary was practically working in a fishbowl.

He squinted as he examined the guy waiting in the hallway. How nice of Mark to keep the guest waiting there, Carter thought somewhat cheerfully. He recognized the swept-back hair, the smart suit, and the attitude. The guy was seemingly examining some impressionist painting clone on the opposite wall, and he was standing with his back to Carter and Mark. By his position, he was crossing his arms over his chest in what probably looked like a disapproving gesture.

“All right, you can see him in,” he sighed.

He turned to walk back into his office but stopped dead in his tracks. He was pretty sure the room must have smelt of sex right now, even if he had just jerked off.

“Mark, do you happen to have...” he turned towards his secretary.

Not that was professionalism right there. Mark placed the air freshener tube in his hand and went back to his desk like that was completely natural and no explanations were needed.

“Thanks,” he murmured. “Just send Simon in, in one minute or so.”

Maybe it was his imagination, but Simon looked at him like he was suspecting something. The guy was handsome, model beautiful, but Carter still could not shake off the sensation that there was something artificial about the guy. He was trying too much.

“Have you gone under the knife?” he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

Simon dared to look affronted.

“What gave you that idea? What did you hear?” the guest asked, obviously distressed.

“What gave me that idea?” Carter snorted. “Your perfect nose. That thing cannot be in real life.”

Simone brushed his nose with one hand and shifted in his chair. As Carter began to smile, he straightened up, removing his hand from his face and pretending to clean some invisible lint off his lapel.

“Gosh, you’re even more obnoxious than usual. And I thought your little brush with death made you a better person. At least, that’s the gospel around here.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Carter bared his teeth in what he hoped looked very much like an insincere smile. Maybe the guy was going to take the hint and fuck off. “To what unpleasant reason do I owe this visit?”

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” Simon threw him an equally fake smile.

The guy must have had his teeth done, too. Maybe they were fake. Nah, the guy was too young for that. But what did he know?

“Do you really need an answer to that? Look, man, I’m married. Whatever you think it’s going on here, it’s not,” Carter decided to put the cards on the table.

“That didn’t stop you before,” Simon looked at him, his eyes at half-mast, in what was probably a seductive stare.

It was. The guy was handsome, and he knew how to play that card well.

“Before was before,” Carter shrugged. “Now is now. Do you think you can find the door on your own, or do I need to show it to you?”

Simone raised his hands in surrender.

“Chill, Alex. I’m here just to invite you over to lunch. Stop and don’t protest just yet. Yolanda told me I need to show you the new materials for the organic line ads, and that you’re quite busy today.”

“Okay,” Carter said shortly. “See you at lunch, then. Don’t forget to bring those materials. If you come without them, I’ll kick your ass.”

Simon opened his mouth and, for a few seconds, he gaped like a fish. Carter could not stop thinking that this whole body swap thing was starting to be funny. Not funny like in he wanted to roll on the floor laughing, but enough to feel satisfaction while staring at Simon, across his lacquered desk that had probably cost several thousands of dollars.

“What’s gotten into you?” Simon accused, his eyes narrowing to slits. “It’s not like you to be crass.”

“What can I say, man?” Carter chuckled. “A little brush with death changes one’s vocabulary. Are you ready to leave, or do you still have some unanswered questions? I don’t have all day, you know?”

Simon tensed his jaw, but for a brief second. His perfect face metamorphosed back to straight, flawless lines, and he smiled.

“I like it when you’re bossy,” Simon spoke, his voice languorous and filled with promises.

Carter could swear the guy’s words were doig something funny to his ears. Ticklish. That was the word.

“Look, Simon. You’re a handsome dude. Just go bone someone who’s into you. I’m sure you have plenty of guys fighting over you.”

Simon leaned in and pouted like a child. Carter had no idea why the guy was working in the Marketing department. He clearly had it in him to pose for ads, just like Alex did. Simon was an expert in pushing buttons. But Carter was not that gullible.

“But I want you,” Simon complained. “And, you know,” his eyes darted sideways, “it’s not like, if you want to, I won’t let you do the ... boning,” he added the last word with a grimace, seemingly a bit unsure of what he was saying.

“I can’t,” Carter replied sharply. “That seat’s taken. I’m boning my husband.”

The strangest thing about what followed was that he was just as surprised as Simon. What could have gotten into him to say that? Was it true? An image of Aron’s manly body stretched over the bed, ready to be taken, whatever that meant, flashed through his mind, with the power and speed of a short circuit. He swallowed nervously. Could Aron expect that from him? But the guy seemed bent on wanting to be the one on top. It was much easier with a straight relationship. At least, there, he knew who was the fucker, and who was, well, the ... fuckee.

Great, now he had to go through the day trying to chase away images of Aron on the receiving end of a good shagging. Go away. Go away, you filthy thought, he struggled.

“You’re fucking Aron? You’ve never told me that,” Simon reproached when he finally got his voice back.

“And why should I tell you I’m fucking my husband?” Carter shot back.

“Because you said to me that you’re a complete bottom and you don’t care about, well, boning anyone.”

Great, he groaned internally. Now he was going to ruin Alex’s reputation as the perfect passive partner. Ah, well, he could not care less.

On the upside, that was giving him hope. What if he was the one to jump Aron’s bones, not the other way around? How hard could that be? He had gone to town with several of his ex-girlfriends, it was not like he didn’t know how to do it. Well, he was going to fuck a man, not a woman, but an ass was still an ass if he was to be philosophical about it. And that was just going to solve his problem with not being ready to be the one to take it up the ass. Aron was the gay guy between them two. So he must have had at least more experience than him in that particular department.

“I must have lied to you,” he finally replied, seeing Simon still sitting there and watching him like Carter had just told him Santa Claus didn’t exist.

“I thought we had a connection,” Simon glared.

“You thought wrong,” Carter said back. “The only guy I’m having a connection with is my husband.”

Well, at least that was true. Aron was the most important guy in his life. Always had been. Even more important than his dad. But he was not going to go there right now. He had this hot potato, shaped like a male model, on his hands, and he needed to deal with him.

“Simon,” he sighed. “Just go fuck someone and forget about whatever ... happened between us.”

“Damn, you’re serious,” Simon whispered. “You really don’t remember. But everyone said it was just a light injury, whatever you’ve been through.”

“Well, I don’t remember.”

Simon opened his mouth again, but this time, he closed it with a small smile.

“All right, Alex. I’ll come take you from the spa and then we’ll have lunch.”

What did it feel like Carter had to wait for the other shoe to drop? Simon stood up and leaned over Carter’s desk, to stare into his eyes.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he murmured.

Carter rolled his eyes. No wonder Alex was so entitled. People were just lining up to kiss his ass. That kind of thing could only inflate one’s ego to obnoxious levels, especially if there were people as beautiful as this Simon dude doing that.