"There's someone I want you to meet. Just as soon as he separates from the battle-ax."
"The battle-ax?" Kyle Kendricks asked, a bit confused. He was standing with Trent Taylor at the opening of the Rodin exhibit at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts in Richmond. Trent was the curator of the exhibit. He knew Kyle because both served on the board of the Rainbow Connection, a gay men's recreation center/clinic/shelter located in the downtown warehouse district close to where the east-west 64 and north-south 95 interstates met. Trent was the board treasurer. Kyle, a young assistant professor of art, taught classes in art at the Rainbow Connection as well as dance, and he directed the Richmond Gay Men's Chorus, which practiced there.
"Mrs. Battle-ax. It's his wife, Margaret. That's him there, the tall, distinguished-looking dude, Derek Colson. He's among the highest-drawer philanthropists in this town. She's the dowdy one standing beside him. A DuPont, of course. That's where much of their money comes from."
"And you want me to meet him because . . .?"
"To help them disperse some of that money they're building up, of course. He's willing to give a chunk to the Connection. We just need to be friendly to him."
"So you want me to be friendly to him?"
"You're about the friendliest-looking board member we have. He's a director of the Virginia National Bank. He gave a fourth of the money for this exhibit. Need I say more? Ah, I see she's wandered off. Put on a smile and let's get over there before that dreadful woman from the Richmond Symphony cuts in on us. Here. Take this flute of bubbly over to him. His glass is nearly empty."
"What sort of friendly do you want me to be?"
"You know what kind of friendly. You know what I'm talking about. Don't be coy."
"He's a married guy. He wouldn't—"
"Don't believe that for a minute. Why do you think he shows interest in the Rainbow Connection? Why do you think he gives money to us? He's a cutthroat businessman. Don't be so naïve as to believe he gives anything to anybody without the expectation of return on his investment."
Trent brought Kyle together with the banker, managed smooth introductions, and wafted off. Kyle and Derek engaged in a bit of chit chat before others arrived, including the executive director of the Richmond Symphony, who was determined to monopolize the banker. Derek Colson gave Kyle a sheepish look and a wink before he turned his full attention to the woman and Kyle, wanting to avoid another man who had been dogging him throughout the opening and who was walking their way, joined the fluid group.
Kyle hadn't been standing beside the banker long, but it had been long enough to get the impression of a big, fuzzy polar bear. He was, as Trent had said, distinguished. He also was imposing, being a full head taller than Kyle, who was on the short side and lithe, albeit well-muscled, like the gymnast he'd been in college and the ballet dancer he was with the Richmond Ballet, just one of the set of artistic talents he had. Colson definitely was a man to be noticed—large boned, tall, broad in the shoulders, and not exactly thin in the waist either, although not really fat. He had wavy gray hair of a silvery texture, bushy gray eyelashes over striking, hazel eyes, and a mustache leading down into a goatee, both of which were professionally tended. He obviously was a man who was obeyed.
When he went home to his second-floor apartment in one of the old mansions of the Fan District lining Grove Avenue, not far from the Fine Arts Museum or many of the other artistic venues in Richmond, Kyle thought back on his few moments with the banker. The man had a magnetism about him and Kyle regretted not having had longer to talk with him.
He needn't have held regret about that, though, as the following Saturday, when the Richmond Gay Man's Chorus gave a Christmas concert in one of the Jefferson Hotel ballrooms, Trent Taylor appeared by Kyle's side, with Derek Colson in tow, to congratulate Kyle, the chorus' director, on a successful concert.
"Raised a big chunk for the Connection," he said. "Derek has written a very nice check too. He wanted to congratulate you personally."
"Yes, it was a fine concert," Colson said, giving Kyle what could only be described in this season as a jolly, sparkling smile.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Kyle said.
"Perhaps we could celebrate a bit after you have been properly hailed by all of your admirers," Colson said, as Trent wafted off and other admirers were honing in on Kyle. "Would you do me the honor of meeting me in the hotel bar after you have been exhausted here? I would like to have a chance to exhaust you myself."
Kyle felt a little chill run up his spine even though he was sure that the meaning that jumped into his mind was just his imagination. He couldn't help being attracted to the man, who exuded a dominating, overpowering personality. "Yes, I would like that," he answered.
Colson was charming and dominated the conversation in the bar. They sat across from each other with a tiny, round table between them that let Colson make the most of his height and bulk. He leaned over the table, giving Kyle the impression of the big bear of a man covering him from three sides and drawing him into his embrace. Kyle found that warming and arousing. He didn't bat an eye when Colson touched the hand he had on the table with his fingers or let the fingers move on the back of his hand. Kyle felt a shudder of pleasure when he looked down and saw that the man's knuckles were hairy. Kyle was aroused by hirsute men.
Somehow during the conversation, Colson managed to get his middle finger under Kyle's and two of Kyle's fingers loosely wrapped around Colson's. Kyle wasn't aware of it until Colson started moving his finger slowly in and out of the loose grip. Kyle blushed and started to move his hand away, but Colson's other hand covered his and held it there.
"Am I embarrassing you?" Colson asked. "Trent told me that you would accommodate me."
"No, not at all," Kyle answered. And it occurred to him that Colson's overtures didn't, in fact, turn him off. He looked directly into Colson's eyes and repeated, "No, you aren't embarrassing me at all. You're flattering me."
It had become quite evident that Trent had been right about the man's interest despite him being married. It also was evident that it wasn't so much that Trent had been throwing Kyle at Colson as that Colson had pressed Trent to get him hooked up with Kyle—and that Trent had agreed to do so.
"And I hope I am enticing you. I have a room booked upstairs. Will you come upstairs with me?" Colson asked in a low, gravelly voice.
"Yes," Kyle answered simply.
"I am going to fuck you; you are going to be submissive to me," Colson said, pinning his intent down, watching Kyle's reaction closely with his eyes.
"Yes," Kyle acquiesced, lowering his own eyes in submission.