Treston's mouth hung open; he had one hand on his stomach and the other on his chest. "It's amazing. I've never seen such a mix of so many beautiful things before." Although the Spanish influence continued inside, there were French tables, Jacobean chairs, and stark modern sculptures on pedestals. He'd read somewhere Chad was into architecture and design.
Chad guided him toward a grand staircase with hand-carved balustrades in the middle of the hall and said, "I'm eclectic."
"Do you take something for that?" Treston asked. He didn't want him having a seizure that night.
Chad laughed. "It's not a sickness. It means I like to mix different things up and my taste varies. I'm unusual."
Treston flung him a glance and said, "Oh, I'm sure you are." He should have known what the word meant. He made a mental note to remember it: eclectic.
When they reached the second floor, a very old man in a white jacket who reminded Treston of Alfred Hitchcock met them in the hallway and Chad said, "I don't want to be disturbed."
Treston figured the old guy had to be the butler. He nodded at Chad, looked Treston up and down with disdain, and said, "Yes, sir."
Then Chad led Treston to another set of oversized double doors at the end of the hall and escorted him into a large master suite filled with so many interesting objects Treston's jaw dropped again. The floors were black marble; the walls a dozen shades of gray. The statues in this room, unlike the modern statues in the main hall downstairs, had a more classic European look with nude men that had leaves over their dicks and nude women with tiny breasts and huge rear ends. And the framed photos that hung on the walls were all of Chad Pratt. There were images of him standing with other film stars, important politicians, and famous singers. There were framed magazine covers and images of Chad at red-carpet events. In a large glass curio cabinet on the left side of the room, Treston noticed a group of statues and plaques. He figured they were all awards Chad must have won.
He'd been so busy gaping at the walls, he hadn't noticed Chad had crossed to the bed and stripped down to his boxer briefs. When Treston finally did look at him, Chad spread his arms and said, "I hope I didn't disappoint you. A forty-seven-year-old body isn't like a twenty-five-year-old body."
Treston looked him up and down and smiled. He slowly walked over to the bed and ran his fingers up and down Chad's torso. He looked every bit as good without his clothes as he did in them, which was something Treston had learned didn't happen with most men. It was obvious he worked out on a regular basis. His chest muscles were firm and round, his stomach had defined lines and crevices, and his lower torso had those prominent long muscles that pointed downward to his crotch. Treston kissed his chest and said, "I hope you're joking around, because you're truly one of the sexiest men I've ever seen in underwear. Actually, you're all man." His right hand went lower and he slid it into Chad's boxer briefs. He wrapped his fingers around Chad's semi-erection and said, "And this is the perfect complement."
"I don't believe you," Chad said. "Young men say things like that to wealthy older men to get what they want all the time."
Treston looked into his steel blue eyes and said, "But you're wrong again. There's a difference now. I truly, seriously do not want anything from you, so I have to be telling the truth, otherwise there would be no point in saying it."
"Maybe you're just kinky and you like that old skin," Chad said. "I've heard about young guys who are only attracted to men with wrinkles and sagging asses."
"I'm not one of them," Treston said. The energy between them seemed to fill the room. It made the air thicker and Treston felt himself breathing faster. Though Treston had been attracted to men this way before, one thing seemed to make this different from all the rest. Each time their eyes met, neither of them seemed able to turn away fast enough.
"I'm starting to think you're the dangerous one," Chad said. "You seem to know just what to say and just how to say it."
"You know what I think?" Treston said.
"What?"
"I think we should stop talking now and you should do what you do best."
Chad reached up and caressed his cheek. "What do I do best? I want to hear you say it aloud."
Treston kissed the center of his chest and glanced up slowly without lifting his head. "You take complete control and you don't stop until you get what you want. Just like every bad boy I've ever known."
"I thought you didn't want to be with bad boys anymore."
Treston licked his chest this time. "I didn't say that. All I said is I'm not falling in love with bad boys anymore. There's a difference."