Page 53 of Point of Contact

“You look amazing.”

Trevor met Carl’s eyes in the mirror. “Thanks.” He plucked at the waistband of the suit pants. “Not too baggy, right?”

“You look good enough to eat.” Carl slid his arms around Trevor’s waist, leaning down to put his chin on his shoulder. “Which I’d love to do later tonight.” He nuzzled his nose against Trevor’s cheek and nipped at his earlobe.

Trevor tried not to tense. His libido ebbed and flowed these days, and there were times when all he wanted to do was lose himself in the mindless pleasure of rough, sweaty sex, in the blessed forgetfulness of his body taking over. Other times he couldn’t bear to be touched, couldn’t bear the vulnerability that came when physical barriers were breached.

He and Carl hadn’t made love in weeks.

Trevor turned in his arms, not answering, not making any promises. The banquet was going to be hard on him, but he owed it to Carl to try and be fully present tonight, and that meant physically as well as emotionally. He pulled Carl’s head down to kiss him with passionate thoroughness, and when they broke apart, Carl’s eyes were glowing with arousal.

“Let’s skip the dinner,” Carl murmured. “I want to take you straight to bed.” He pressed closer, letting Trevor feel his erection against his hip.

Trevor smoothed his hands over Carl’s lapels, straightening them. “You worked too hard on your speech to do that,” he teased, hastily pulling away when Carl slid his hand along Trevor’s thigh, not wanting him to discover he was flaccid. “Afterward, we have all night.”

Carl kissed him again. “I can’t wait,” he said longingly, stepping back and adjusting himself with brisk motions. “But we do need to get going.”

As they drove, Trevor sat and stared out the window, trying to get into the mindset of proud, supportive significant other, determined to help make Carl’s big night special for him in every way.

Carl took the exit for the Broadmoor area, and Trevor sighed. He hadn’t asked where the banquet was being held, but if it was at one of their favorite restaurants—good food, impeccable service and the sweet memory of Carl proposing to him before the fireplace in the private dining room—he could do this.

But Carl drove past the world-famous Broadmoor Hotel and continued up a two-lane, winding road, a road that led to the—

“What’s up here, Carl?” he asked tightly, reaching out to grip the door handle, digging his fingers into it.

Carl laughed, glancing over at him. “The zoo, silly. I told you that’s where the dinner was tonight.”

“No, you didn’t. You never said that.” Hearing how harsh he sounded, Trevor broke off and took a deep breath, striving for calm. “It just surprises me it’s not at the Broadmoor, that’s all.”

“The zoo is a big sponsor of the conservation efforts my firm has been undertaking, Trev. That’s the whole point of this banquet, to honor those contributions, and why I’m doing the keynote. I’m the liaison—” He launched into a detailed explanation of it all, and Trevor tuned him out, unable to hear him over the roaring in his ears.

The zoo. Riley. A teenage father, unable to afford much of anything in the way of entertainment for his toddler son...

Vivid images flashed through Trevor’s mind like a slideshow—feeding the giraffes, Riley wrinkling his nose at the smell of the indoor pen but squealing in delight as the rubbery lips brushed his palm in search of the bits of food there. Trick-or-treating, Riley in a Darth Vader costume, starry-eyed with happiness when the legion of Storm Troopers marching in front of the zoo’s entrance stopped and saluted him. Riding the sky lift up to the top of Cheyenne Mountain, where Mrs. Claus waited to greet him with hot chocolate and a candy cane before a visit to Santa, Riley openmouthed in awe at the pen of real live reindeer.

“Daddy, what if they start flying right now?”

Trevor gripped the armrest as the memories assaulted him from all sides: Scout troop events, field trips, heart-to-heart talks—Riley laughing at the antics of the snow leopards even as his eyes glistened with tears after his first painful breakup. The visits tapered off, of course, as Riley grew older, but so much of their early relationship had been conducted on these wooded, hilly grounds, a foundation laid for the closeness that enabled them to survive the angst and conflict of the teenage years.

Trevor had been looking forward to maybe bringing his grandchildren here...

As Carl pulled into the sprawling parking lot, Trevor sucked in a deep breath and blew it out as quietly as he could. He could do this—no, he had to do this, for Carl’s sake.

* * *

The cocktail hour went well. All Trevor had to do was stand quietly at Carl’s side, drink in hand, and smile as he was introduced to people he’d never in a million years remember the names of. Carl was in his element, the man of the hour, and his rich voice and husky laugh rang throughout the room.

“I’m so proud of you,” Trevor whispered to him at one point, and Carl brushed his fingers discreetly over Trevor’s hand.

“Thanks, honey.”

The large banquet room was warm and inviting, complete with a string quartet playing softly in one corner. Women glittered in sequined dresses, the men wearing either a sharply tailored business suit or tuxedo. Carl wore a tux, the elegant severity of it setting off his high-cheekboned face and gray hair to perfection.

When dinner was announced, Carl put his hand on the small of Trevor’s back. “I’ll be on the dais during the meal. You’re seated with the spouses of the other speakers at one of the front tables.”

Trevor nodded and watched him stride toward the dais, shaking hands with people along the way, before seating himself to the right of the lectern. The spouses’ table was almost full when he finally found his name card, and he sank into the chair gratefully, glad to be off his feet at last.

“I’m Marquita.”