After they came, Dare did something that made Treston flinch. First he said, "That was fucking hot, sweetie-pie. You're the only stud who can do things like that to me." The room went silent for a moment while Chad was either whispering something or gesturing. Then Dare asked, "Was it as good for you, sweetie-pie? Tell me how much you love to fuck my tight man-pussy."
Treston wondered what kind of idiot would ask a question like that, and then he leaned into the cracked door to hear how Chad would answer. After a moment of silence, Chad said, "Ah, well, it was very nice, pussycat," then climbed out of bed and went into the bathroom.
Five or ten minutes later-Treston had lost track of time by then-Chad slipped into the closet again and found him sitting on the suitcase. "I think it's safe now. He's sleeping." He'd put on his black sweatpants again and his sandy blond hair was all messed up on top.
Treston flung him a look. "He's sleeping already?" After Chad came out of the bathroom he didn't hear Dare get up to go next. He wondered what kind of bottom had sex and didn't clean up afterward. He liked to at least brush his teeth and wipe the lube out of his ass with that clichéd soapy warm rag. Evidently, Dare's tight little man-pussy wasn't the cleanest one in town.
Chad shrugged. "He's completely out for the night. He's a very sound sleeper, especially after a good pounding."
Treston didn't smile. He reached for his backpack and stood up. "Good, because I'm tired and I want to go home. I just hope I don't have nightmares after what I just heard."
Chad's face tightened. "You were listening?"
"You left the door open, asshat," Treston said. "I couldn't help it."
Chad frowned. "Dare is a little vocal in bed."
"I'll say."
Chad smiled and handed him a photo. "I signed it and dated it for you."
Treston took the photo and gaped at it for a moment. It was one of those black-and-white head shots actors have mass-produced to hand out to fans. This one had to be at least fifteen years old, back when Chad still had identical dimples on both sides of his face instead of the sexy middle-aged creases he had now. Treston kissed him on the cheek and spoke in a flat deadpan tone. "I'll frame it, cherish it forever, and hang it over my bed, studly."
Chad laughed. "I knew you'd say something like that. I gave it to you on purpose. I wasn't really serious and don't feel obligated to take it."
"You did not," Treston said. "You're only saying that now because I made a snide comment. You thought I'd be thrilled you'd given me a personally autographed photo. You expected me to be falling all over you and thanking you, just like all your other groupies."
"You're wrong again," Chad said. "I'm not that much of an asshole."
Treston turned and stepped toward the door. "Well, I guess I'll never really know for sure, because I'm going home." He opened the door slowly, keeping the squeaking noise as low as he could. "I've had enough fun and games for one night. Have a nice life." But he didn't hand the photo back to Chad.
As Treston tip-toed out of the bedroom and down the grand front staircase, he heard Chad following him in his bare feet. When they reached the main hall on the first floor, the old man in the white coat was holding the front door open for Treston and he saw the long black limo waiting outside in the driveway with the back door open. He crossed through the open doorway and nodded at the older man without giving Chad a backward glance. He told himself if he just kept walking forward and didn't turn around he could get out of there without emotional scars.
But when he reached the steps that led to the driveway, Chad grabbed him by the arm and turned him around. "That's it? I don't even get a kiss goodbye? I thought we had fun tonight."
Treston took a quick breath and said, "We did have fun. At least, I know I did. You're one of the most interesting bad boys I've ever met. I really mean it. But it's time for Cinderella to get back to the real world now. I have to figure out how to change my circumstances and get a decent job, and you have pussycat waiting upstairs for you to breed him like a fucking pig."
Chad smiled. "That's not funny. He didn't know you were listening."
"Seriously, man," Treston said. "Who does shit like that in bed?"
"You should talk," Chad said. His tone grew serious. "You're a stripper and I can only imagine what else you've done with men to make money. I'm more than familiar with the extra services that are offered at Chickey's. So I don't think you're in any position to judge Dare."
Well.
Treston had been confronted this way before. In the beginning it used to sting him, but now he felt nothing. "I know who I am and I don't lie about it. But I can promise you one thing for certain: I've never screamed things like that in bed with anyone. I don't have to pretend I'm a whore in bed, because I really am one. I admit it openly and I'm not ashamed of anything I've done. So don't you ever judge me or what I've done to survive." He'd learned that by taking an offense approach instead of a defensive one he could maintain his dignity. But there were times even he didn't believe it.