Untame (Straight Taste Book 5)

  Untame

  Straight Taste, Volume 5

  Jaylen Florian

  Published by Jaylen Florian, 2018.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  UNTAME

  First edition. September 18, 2018.

  Copyright © 2018 Jaylen Florian.

  Written by Jaylen Florian.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Books by Jaylen Florian

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Author's Note

  Books by Jaylen Florian

  Novels, novellas, short stories, and bundles by Jaylen Florian include:

  Antonio's Mask

  Arousing Euphoria: Rugby Team Bundle

  Baseball Star's Gift

  Cobra De Capello

  Covet

  Garage

  Ghost Town

  Guarding His Fortunes

  Guarding His Jewels

  Hollywood Tease

  Lured

  Macho

  Rugby Test: Hypnotic Temptation

  Uncovering Machismo

  Untame

  Uplifting Sports Romance: College Gay Bundle

  Chapter 1

  "I'm like Mary Shelley's Dr. Frankenstein," Andrew joked. "I've somehow created a monster."

  He and I were seated on a sofa in the aviation company's extended lobby observing the other customers arriving for private helicopter tours into the Grand Canyon. The reception area stretched between a gift shop and a bakery-style cafe that served sandwiches, pastries, and fountain drinks, with large framed photographs of desert landscapes hung tactfully on the surrounding walls.

  "What did I do?" I asked.

  "You're unabashedly trying to cruise that trio of men over there at the counter."

  "I was? I think they're straight."

  "Well, straight or not, they're here for the guy with the shaved head. I heard them say to the cashier that the flight is part of his bachelor pre-party celebration. All three of them caught you staring at them and checking them out."

  "If I did, I didn't even realize it."

  "You don't remember scanning your eyes up and down and all over their bodies?"

  "Honestly, I don't. It's like a habit for me, I guess. I hope I wasn't rude."

  "Just tone it down, Kieran, that's all. It's natural to look. Try to be a little more discrete." Andrew chuckled. "Furtive is the right word for the moment, I think."

  We were adjacent to the terminal of Henderson Executive Airport, south of Las Vegas, Nevada, on a crisp afternoon with pristine blue skies, the day after Thanksgiving. Two days earlier Andrew and I had flown fourteen hundred miles from our small town in the Midwest to spend the holiday with Brandon. Andrew and Brandon had grown up together and maintained a friendship into adulthood. Both men were in their early thirties, about nine years older than me.

  My name is Kieran. I was twenty-three that November and overjoyed to experience a big city for the first time in my life. I had seen pictures of Las Vegas, of course, and I had read about the traffic and the casinos and the mountains. In real life, however, everything was grander than expected. The city appeared to be inside a desert bowl—a valley surrounded by mountain ridges that far eclipsed even the tallest skyscrapers on the world-famous Las Vegas Strip.

  Andrew, resplendent with light green eyes that turned into emeralds in muted light, was important in my life for many reasons. We were neighbors, sharing equal halves of a dilapidated old duplex a quarter mile away from a truck stop. We were good friends. And we were sex buddies. I hesitate to refer to him as a "lover" because we didn't really date or exchange promises or commitments. After hanging out and drinking beer, a few times per week, we engaged in intense sessions of foreplay and penetration. Our arrangement was clearly an open one. Andrew referred to himself as bisexual. He had been dating a woman named Willow, also without commitment or expectations, for the past six months. When Willow decided to spend Thanksgiving with a man she had been dating for a longer time than Andrew, the opportunity arose for Andrew and I to travel together to visit Brandon.

  Back home, Andrew was a talented ink artist employed by a downtown tattoo parlor. When not creating designs he liked to tinker with his old car or listen to his classic rock music collection. He almost always wore a variation of the same look—blue jeans and black shirts—and his light brown hair appeared blond in direct sunlight. Besides being a bit older than me, he was taller than me—and wiser, much calmer, and much more assured of himself. I admired Andrew enormously and wanted to be more like him.

  Andrew knew my sexual history. It was quite meager. Until Andrew came into my life, it had been limited to glory hole experiences that had occurred at an automotive and motorcycle repair shop, a fling with a vineyards and winery owner during my summer internship working at state conservation areas near the Missouri River, and an encounter with an enigmatic man at a truck stop.

  Andrew also knew that I had met someone intriguing weeks earlier on Halloween night. Cody, an engineering geologist from Austin, Texas, was consulting for the wetlands preserve where I worked and trained to someday become a park ranger. Like me, Cody was a gay man. The night we met Cody was in a Julius Caesar costume, complete with a laurel wreath of bay leaves crowning his head, and his stocky and mighty body was snug inside a knee-length tunic that resembled a toga. Cody, in his late twenties, fittingly possessed that noble air one would expect of an emperor, and I imagined that the real man from history—Caesar himself—could hardly have been more regal or confident.

  I glanced at the clock and saw that our two-and-a-half-hour tour was set to begin in mere minutes. I excused myself to avail the bathroom facilities so I wouldn't risk being stuck in the chopper with a full bladder. I chose the first of five urinals in the empty restroom. Seconds later, there was a man standing at the urinal beside me.

  "Ah, you are quite the bold one," he said, speaking matter-of-factly. It was the man with the shaved head who Andrew had overheard talking with the cashier about his bachelor party celebrations.

  "Me?" I replied.

  He stood a step back from the urinal, exposing himself, and watched my reaction. "I noticed you gawking out there."

  "My friend already reprimanded me for that."

  "So, you liked what you saw? With me and my friends?"

  I flushed and zipped up my jeans. "Sure."

  He shook himself far more times than necessary to finish and seemed so thick he had to have been partially engorged. The man was Andrew's height, about six feet, with broad shoulders and hairy forearms. The stubble of his beard accentuated his strong jaw line and his dark eyes looked raven black under vigorous eyebrows. I guessed his age to be approximately thirty and I noticed his engagement ring.

  "Todd," he said, stepping closer to me and offering a firm handshake.

  "Kieran."

  Todd winked at me and strutted ahead out of the restroom without another word.

  Chapter 2

  Eight of us were packed into the state-of-the-art airbus helicopter as it traveled east and soared over a ridge separating the Las Vegas Valley from the barren desert west of Boulder City. I spotted a gathering of desert bighorn sheep on the mountain slope and pointed them out to Brandon, our pilot, who turned the aircraft at an incline to give all of his pass
engers a better look at the elusive animals.

  I was sandwiched on the front row between Brandon on my left and Andrew on my right. Todd and his two friends were in the row behind us. Two women, each flying alone, sat against the helicopter's righthand side windows on both rows. We wore headsets, which allowed us to hear comments from Brandon and questions from fellow passengers, as well as hit songs from bands like America and The Moody Blues that played in the background to enhance the stunning vistas in every direction.

  As we approached Hoover Dam, Brandon told us how earthquakes and rich mineral deposits contributed to the stunning beauty of the desert region. The dam itself, so colossal and impressive, seemed an impossible feat for the early 1930s, requiring thousands of workers and making an almost unthinkable impact in regard to water allocation and electricity. While Brandon continued his guidance, which included interesting trivia and bad jokes that everyone else seemed to snicker at, Andrew frequently tapped me on the arm or knee to draw my attention to something he had spotted along the horizon.

  Each of us passengers took turns gasping at the majesty of the Grand Canyon. It was an emotional experience for me and I choked back watery eyes. Until I regained my composure, I feared I would end up weeping and embarrassing myself on Andrew's shoulder. Brandon maneuvered the copter deep into the crevices, hovered above a canyon alongside the Colorado River flanked by soaring mountains, and landed on a concrete helipad at a picnic area. Brandon turned off the blades and the engine and helped us unbuckle from safety devices to exit the aircraft. He asked everyone to remain close by in the canyon, near the cliffs overlooking the river, and to keep an eye out for rattlesnakes.

  While Brandon prepared snack trays for each of his passengers, Andrew and I climbed among the rocks, which seemed to cantilever over the river below.

  "This is going to upset you," Andrew said, when we were out of range of the others. He sat on a boulder and gestured for me to sit beside him.

  "Oh no," I responded. "What happened?"

  "We've had two amazing days, Kieran, don't you agree?"

  "Definitely."

  "You're going to spend the second half of the trip without me. I'm so sorry."

  "Are you mad at me?"

  "No, nothing like that," Andrew answered. "My boss got fired Wednesday, the night before Thanksgiving. The owner of the tattoo parlor called me this morning and offered me the head manager position."

  "That's incredible!"

  "Yes, and lots more pay and responsibilities."

  "Congratulations, Andrew."

  "But I have to start tomorrow. That's the bad part. The place is a wreck from all the drama. I'm flying home early this evening."

  "I understand," I said.

  "I wish I could stay. I really do."

  "I know. Is Brandon aware of your plans yet?"

  "No. I'll tell him after the tour is completed. I'm sure he'll show you more of Vegas than I could. Promise me you'll keep having fun."

  "It won't be the same without you, but I'll have a good time. Don't worry."

  Andrew and I descended the rocks and rejoined the other passengers at a large picnic table shaded with a canvas umbrella. Each guest had a flute glass generously full of bubbling champagne. Brandon had also lined up ice-cold drinks from a cooler, including cans of water and soda, and snack packs that included slices of fruit, carrots and dipping sauce, crackers and cheese, and cookies. When everyone was finished eating and drinking, Brandon handed us moist towels to clean our hands and faces, then he returned to the aircraft to prepare for the journey back to the airport.

  The whole time we were eating and drinking at the picnic table Todd was directly across from me. His dark eyes pierced me with secretive glances that looked equally mysterious and menacing. It was thrilling, as I knew he was behaving without his friends catching his flirtations, but it unnerved me that Andrew or Brandon might have noticed so I didn't react or lure Todd on.

  I strolled away from the table to the airbus for a moment alone with Brandon. He was easily the handsomest man I had ever seen, with vivid blue eyes, an exquisitely athletic body on a six foot four inch frame, dark red hair cut close to his scalp in a military-style haircut, and a well-trimmed beard and goatee. His skin was creamy, with pink tones, and his facial features harkened to what I would expect of an immortal, like Hercules or one of those others from the ancient world who were purported to be half-human and half-deity. He wore fitted aviator-style sunglasses, khaki slacks held tight with a firm belt, boots with thick soles for safety on the terrain, and a short sleeve white polo shirt with the helicopter company's emblem over the left side of his broad chest.

  "How's your trip, sport?" he asked me, while a shrewd grin slipped onto his lips. I knew he was completely in tune with my reactions from the flight.

  "Life changing, potentially," I answered.

  Brandon was pleased and he laughed good-naturedly. "How so?"

  "I don't want to answer with a cliche. But the experience gives me the feeling of being uplifted, of having more options to choose from for a future path. I can't articulate it well. It's the freedom of being up there and having nothing in the way—just sky in every direction—and I strongly felt unbound. I trust you understand what I'm trying to say."

  "Yeah, I do. Everyone has a different reaction to helicopter flying. Some are lost to the fear. However, most are like you. That's why the experience is unforgettable, and especially meaningful to me, too."

  "You chose the background music during the flight, didn't you?"

  "Yes. Did Andrew tell you? He helped me compile the tunes. Each pilot gets to create his or her own background tracks, as long the choices are approved by our manager."

  "I imagine this is a dream job," I added. "How many trips do you daily?"

  "Here, to the grand canyon, at least two, sometimes three, if it's one of the peak tourist seasons. On the days when I'm flying tours over the Las Vegas Strip, it can be four or five trips per day."

  "Thank you very much for giving Andrew and me this complimentary tour."

  "My pleasure," Brandon said. "What's been your favorite part so far?"

  "The remnants of all the volcanoes. That was completely unexpected. Overall, I love everything about this."

  "Let me call everyone back. We make a pit stop on the return flight for fuel, then you'll be back at the airport and you'll have the rest of the afternoon and early evening to explore. What are you and Andrew planning for the remainder of your day?"

  "We were going to take a hike and remain outdoors, then maybe have an early dinner. Our bodies are still on the central time zone, two hours ahead, and I'll just go with the flow from there."

  I almost confided to Brandon that Andrew would be flying home a few hours later. But it wasn't my place to tell him. That was Andrew's duty. And I didn't want to see the pained look on Brandon's face when he heard the news. Still, it felt a bit deceptive not to tell Brandon the truth when he asked me a direct question about the day's plans. In fact, suddenly, I had no plan at all, though that was the least of my worries. Experiencing the city and the desert with Andrew was what had made all the experiences so fun and memorable.

  On the return flight, Andrew and I sat on the back row. I gave Andrew the window chair, just behind Brandon, and I was on his right. Todd and his friends were on the first row. Todd was flush against the right side window. He could have stolen a few glances in my direction if he wanted to, but he didn't look back. I figured he either had grown weary of the eye game with me or had simply lost interest. Being in a back seat did give me the opportunity to study Todd's head, face, and forearms. He reminded me of the men in my hometown who had rugged appeal, overflowing with masculinity, and bad boy attitudes that I found irresistible for some reason. However, I was always wary of ever expressing my desire for a man like that, for fear of being punched or mercilessly mocked or ridiculed.

  Back at the airport, Brandon led our group back into the lobby, lifted his sunglasses onto his scalp, and shook ev
eryone's hands to thank them for their business. It was heartening to see him deservedly swarmed with compliments and tips from very gracious customers, despite his lame jokes.

  "Will you grab me an ice water or apple juice?" Andrew asked. "I'm going to give Brandon my news and I'll be back in a couple of minutes. Wish me luck."

  "Andrew, he'll understand. But Brandon may not be comfortable with me staying at his place without you there."

  "No, don't worry about it."

  "You are the one much closer to him."

  "I know, but the two of you are also friends. He knows we are on a budget and can't afford a fancy hotel."

  "Still, after telling Brandon about your flight home, can you please tell him I am willing to find another place to stay for the next two nights if he has any hesitation with me staying at his place alone?"

  "I will, Kieran, but it's going to be a waste of breath."

  "Please? I need you to offer this to him."

  "All right, I will."

  I bought two bottles of spring water and poured them into plastic cups with ice while I waited for Andrew's return in the cafe adjacent to the waiting room.

  I noticed that when Todd and one of his friends went into the restroom, the third one strutted over to me and handed me a folded piece of paper. I looked up at him and accepted it, without opening it. He was six feet tall, thirty years of age with a ridged nose and thick dark hair parted on the side. In contrast to Todd's rough good looks, this man looked like what I would have expected of a Fortune 500 business executive. There was a devious glint in his countenance.

  "Put it in your pocket," he said.

  I obeyed. "It's your number?"

  "It's Todd's number. If you want a heap of trouble, give us a buzz tonight."

  "I didn't catch your name," I replied.

  "Lucas."

  "Is this for Todd's bachelor party tonight?"

  "Yeah. He thinks you could be fun. But it won't be tame. Fair warning."