Rainy Days

  Rainy Days

  by Victoria Zagar

  To Jason, who’s always there for me on my rainy days.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  RAINY DAYS Copyright © 2012 Victoria Zagar. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For more information, write to admin@victoriazagar.com

  Cover art by Isadora Legata:

  http://isadora-legata.deviantart.com

  Visit my official website, Infinite Love:

  http://victoriazagar.com

  Chapter One

  The Stranger

  Michael sighed as he pulled into the gas station. The wipers on his car whirred as they pushed away the rain that was collecting on the windshield. He opened the car door, ducking out into the rain and over to the pump, where he swiped his credit card. He picked up the nozzle and selected his grade, feeling the rain soaking him as the fuel steadily pumped into the gas tank. He silently cursed the gas station’s decision to take down the canopy for renovations as a drop of warm rain trailed down his back.

  Finishing up, he put the nozzle back, declined a receipt and walked into the store. He wandered up to the counter, his wet hair shedding cold droplets onto his neck. “I’ll take a pack of those,” he said, pointing to the cigarettes. It’s been a while since I smoked, he thought. I promised I’d stop when Taryn was born, but at times like these, what’s a man supposed to do? He tried not to think of Michelle screaming at him as Taryn cried. She started a massive fight over a fucking tube of toothpaste. Her irrational behavior is just too much to bear. I don’t know how much more I can take. If it wasn’t for Taryn--

  Michael heard the clink of keys on the ground and looked up to see a man leaving the store in a hurry, his keys accidentally lost on the way out.

  “Excuse me... sir?” Michael said. The man turned around, and Michael could see his face. He had long black hair and was wearing a leather jacket. He looked to be in his mid-to-late thirties and had a nine o’ clock shadow that seemed to fit his rugged appearance.

  “Thanks,” the man said, leaning over to pick up his keys. He wore tight jeans that gave a hint of the muscled legs and tight ass underneath. Michael swallowed and fumbled with his credit card, suddenly in a hurry to finish the transaction and get away. He grabbed his smokes from the counter and headed out to the car. The man he’d seen in the store was trying to start his truck, but it made a spluttering sound as the engine stubbornly refused to turn over.

  Michael felt his feet moving before he’d even had a moment to think it over. “Do you need help?”

  “Yeah,” the man said. “Damn thing won’t start. Could you give me a ride downtown?”

  “Sure,” Michael said. He led the man over to his car. His mind screamed out a warning against giving a ride to a stranger, but he chose to ignore it as the attractive stranger climbed into the passenger seat and shot him a smile. Michael started the car and pulled out into busy traffic, trying not to look over at the stranger sitting beside him.

  “Where are you going?” Michael said, realizing he hadn’t asked.

  “The drywall factory. Thanks for this. I’m Ashley, by the way. People just call me Ash.”

  “I’m Michael. Do you work there?”

  “For now,” Ash said. He put his head back against the headrest and sighed. “Damn truck’s gonna have to be towed again.”

  They sat in relative silence as they passed through green lights. Ash looked out of the window, drinking in their grim surroundings. Factories stood empty, mere husks that suggested the former industrial nature of a concrete city that was now filled with the desperate and the dying.

  “This is my stop,” Ash said. “Thanks for the ride. I appreciate it.”

  “Hey, you’re welcome. Good luck getting your truck fixed.”

  “Thanks. Farewell, then.” He closed the car door and walked towards the factory. Michael watched him go as he lit a cigarette. Damn, he’s mighty fine, isn’t he? He let out a puff of smoke as he chuckled to himself. Idiot. You’re married now. Checking out guys is strictly off-limits. He shook his head and shifted the car into drive, turning back towards home. He could smell the lingering scent of Ash in the passenger seat. Cigarettes and alcohol and something else. A hint of deodorant mixed with a little fresh sweat. Damn if that doesn’t smell good.

  He pulled off the main road onto his street and pulled the car into a tight spot with practiced ease. He hid his smokes in the glove compartment, wanting to keep his vice from Michelle. She’ll smell smoke in the car anyway, and then I’ll hear about it. He hurried up the porch steps and opened the back door, letting himself in.

  “Where have you been?” Michelle looked at him with a glowering expression.

  “I went for a drive,” Michael said. Taryn was playing with her dolls in the background, oblivious to the tension in her mother’s voice.

  “It’s raining. Not the greatest day for a drive. I needed you here. Your dad called three times about you going over there to fix his window!”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll take care of it,” Michael sighed. “Jesus.” He was grateful when he settled down for the night and turned out the light, savoring the only moment that was peaceful in his life. The only time that was truly his; those ten seconds before he fell asleep.

  Michael left early for work the next day, making an excuse to get out of the house. Michelle was barely listening as he announced his departure and Taryn was still asleep. He stepped outside to feel the rain cool on his skin, a refreshing escape from the cloying heat of the house.

  He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car. He was halfway downtown when he saw Ash walking along the side of the road. He was obviously soaked, and Michael pulled the car over and rolled down the window.

  “Hey, get in! I’ll give you a ride,” Michael said. Ash climbed into the passenger seat, his hair wet and dripping onto the seats.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Truck still not fixed?”

  “Engine’s fucked,” Ash said. “I can’t afford to get it fixed, so I’ve got to walk to work for a while.”

  “I work at the food plant,” Michael said. “Your job is on my way. I’m happy to pick you up every day. You don’t need to get wet.”

  “I have nothing to pay you with. I don’t want to impose.”

  “It’s on my way,” Michael said. “You’re not imposing.”

  “Thanks. You’re a nice guy. Not many folks will help a guy in this day and age.” Ash smiled. Michael turned his attention back to the road, trying to avoid Ash’s charming smile and the wicked thoughts it gave him.

  Michael dropped Ash off at the factory and drove to work, Ash’s scent filling his senses. He found his thoughts drifting to Ash as the food rolled down the production line, wondering what the man liked, how old he was, where he lived. He drove home looking along the road, hoping Ash might need a ride. Michael felt a pang of disappointment when he didn’t see him. He returned home to find Michelle was out. Relieved, he curled up on the sofa and fell asleep. His dreams were full of Ash and he woke from an erotic dream to find all the lights were out. A Post-It note stuck to the table explained the situation. You were asleep, so I didn’t wake you. Food is in the fridge if you want some. Don’t wake me, I have an early start tomorrow. He sighed, knowing it was going to be a sleepless night in exile for him.

  He let his mind wander back to the pleasant dream he’d had; Ash kissing him in the rain, grinding against him, whispering that he wanted him. He felt himself grow hard just at the thought of it, and unzipped his jeans, taking
his cock in his hand and stroking it in a steady rhythm as he thought of Ash touching him. He came, burying his face in a seat cushion to muffle the cry. Guilty feelings rushed through him as the waves of pleasure subsided. My wife and daughter are upstairs, but I can’t get him out of my head. What the hell is wrong with me?

  The morning rolled around, and Michael found himself looking forward to picking Ash up. He left early and met him at the gas station.

  “Thanks,” Ash climbed into the passenger seat. “I would have lost my job by now without your help.”

  “Hey, it’s no problem. I can pick you up from your house if you like. Where do you live?”

  “Tower Heights,” Ash said. “I wouldn’t ask you to go all that way.”

  “I don’t mind. Really.” He started to drive. Ash was looking at him with an intense stare and he started to feel nervous. What’s with him today? I feel like he’s looking into my soul.

  Ash put a hand on his leg, and Michael could feel a warmth spreading into him. Unopposed, Ash moved his hand up until he was fondling Michael’s crotch. The car swerved as Michael fought to keep control.

  “Shit. Ash, what are you doing?”

  “I have to give you something in return,” Ash said. “I feel bad just relying on your kindness. Besides, you want it. I can tell.”

  “I’m a married man! I have a young daughter!”

  “Damn it. I’m sorry.” Ash pulled his hand away. “I made a mistake. I thought you were... Look, just pull the car over. Let me walk.”

  “Nope,” Michael said. Ash looked down at his hands in the passenger seat. Michael could see the bulge of arousal in the other man’s pants, and his heart felt like it might beat out of his chest. Damn. He wants me. He took a sharp breath in. I can’t say I don’t want him, but there’s Michelle and Taryn to think about. I can’t do something like this and get away with it. Can I?

  Michael pulled the car over. Ash reached for the door, but Michael grabbed his arm, knowing that if Ash got out of the car he would never see him again. “No,” he said, desperation in his voice. “Don’t go.”

  “Then why did you...” Ash paused, seeing the intense look in Michael’s blue eyes. “You’re married,” he whispered, looking away, fighting an internal battle between his desires and his morals.

  “Nobody needs to find out,”

  “I’m almost late for work.”

  “Then I’ll drive. Do whatever you want. Or do nothing at all. It’s up to you.” Michael pulled out onto the road. Ash’s hand was on his crotch again, pulling at his zipper. Michael gasped as Ash’s hand freed his hard cock. I’ve got to keep my eyes on the road. He concentrated on the traffic while being aware of Ash leaning over him, his long hair pooling in his lap and brushing his cock. He let out an involuntary sound as Ash lowered his mouth onto his shaft, surrounding it with a heat he hadn’t felt in far too long.

  “Shit!” Michael gasped as he struggled to keep the car on the road. He glanced down to see Ash eagerly working his cock with his mouth. Fuck. I’m not going to last. I rarely get laid at home, let alone something like this. He’s so eager to suck it. He fucking loves it. Michelle’s never wanted me like this.

  “Ah!” Michael had to suppress the urge to ignore the road as he came, his hands gripping the steering wheel like a vice. Ash swallowed his seed hungrily, licking his lips as he let Michael’s cock slip from his mouth.

  “Sorry. Should have warned you I was going to come.”

  “No worries,” Ash said, wiping his mouth and shooting Michael a wicked grin. He tucked Michael back into his pants and redid the zipper as they pulled into the drywall factory’s parking lot. Ash got out of the car, and Michael felt his breath catch in his throat. Don’t leave now. I want more. I want you. Neither man could bring themselves to speak, and so Ash got out of the car, strolling away casually as though nothing had happened.

  Michael allowed himself to linger for a second as he watched Ash walk away and then drove to work, trying to still his racing heart and shaky hands. His cheap cellphone rang and he pulled it out. Damn. It’s Michelle. He sent it to voicemail. I know I’ll catch hell for it later, but I can’t talk to her now. I just can’t. Not after what I just did.

  Michael pulled into the parking lot of his job and looked at himself in his rearview mirror. Nobody could tell that I just received the hottest blow-job of my life, even though I feel like it’s written all over my face. I’m a liar. I’m a cheat. Yet I have no regrets. What kind of man am I?

  Chapter Two

  One Time

  Michael slammed his car door shut and started the engine. His back was a little sore from work. He pulled out onto the busy main road with a yawn when reality hit him with a shiver of guilty excitement. Oh yeah, I promised to pick Ash up from work.

  He drew in a sharp breath as he let the thoughts in that he’d been suppressing all day; Ash sucking his cock in the car on the way to work. Christ. Just the thought of it sent a shiver down his spine and made his dick twitch in his pants. Pull yourself together, he thought. That was a one-time thing. I’m a married man. It can’t happen again.

  He pulled into the drywall factory parking lot where Ash was waiting patiently. Ash climbed in, a tired expression on his face as he fastened his seatbelt.

  “Thanks for picking me up.”

  You’re just going to act like nothing happened this morning? Michael thought, a sigh escaping his lips before he could stop it. “Look, Ash...”

  “This morning, huh? I know. You’re married. I got caught up in the moment. Just forget it happened, okay?” Ash rested his head back against the seat. “I’m tired. Had a shitty day. I just want to go home.”

  “Sorry. I’ll need directions to your house.”

  “No problem.” It started to rain as they drove through the half-light of a dying day and Michael turned on the window wipers.

  “Turn right here,” Ash said. “Okay, keep going. Turn right at the red light. The tower block ahead. That’s right. You can park in the parking garage.”

  They pulled into the garage and Michael swung the car around into an empty spot.

  “I guess this is where I get out,” Ash said. “Unless you’d like to come in? You know, just to hang out.”

  Bad idea. Don’t do it. Michael ignored his thoughts and turned the engine off, pulling the keys free. “Okay. Michelle has a hair appointment, so she won’t be home anyway.” He followed Ash to the elevator. Ash pressed the button and the steel doors slid open. Michael tentatively stepped into the elevator as Ash pressed the button.

  They stood in silence as the elevator ascended, tension building in the stillness. Michael let out a tight breath as he looked over at Ash. He was leaning back on the handrail, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Michael. Michael took a cigarette and pulled out his lighter, lighting it up and taking a deep breath in. He relaxed instantly as he fulfilled one urge and let his eyes wander over Ash’s tight clothing. The elevator came to a sudden stop and the doors opened with a chime that seemed loud and obtrusive.

  Michael let himself be led into a dimly lit corridor. The carpet was worn and a man sat on the floor drinking a beer. Ash walked right past and fumbled for his keys, finally getting the right one into the door to his apartment. The door swung open and they headed inside. Ash headed straight to the fridge and grabbed a beer.

  “Want one?” Ash asked, trying to give off an easygoing air but Michael could see how tense he was in the way he leaned over.

  “No thanks.” I don’t need anything to cloud my judgement right now. Desire is doing a good enough job all by itself.

  Michael was led into a well-lit living room, where shelves lined the walls filled with DVD cases. “Wow. You have a lot of movies.”

  “A guy’s got to have a hobby. What do you do when you’re at home?”

  “Not a lot, to be honest.”

  “Really? You don’t like movies or anything?”

  “I do,” Michael said, brows
ing the selection. “I used to. Then I got married. Michelle gave her opinion of everything. It was too violent for her, or too stupid, or just a waste of time in her eyes. Then we had Taryn, and suddenly nothing was suitable. Now all my DVD player does is play kids’ movies. Not that I don’t love my daughter, just...”

  “I understand. You gave it all up for your family.”

  “Family life is supposed to be fulfilling. Sometimes, it is. Taryn is a great joy to me. Michelle... well, I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I earn money and put food on the table. That’s what a man’s supposed to do, isn’t it?”

  “Eat, sleep and work,” Ash said. “Michael, when was the last time you did something you wanted to do?”

  Michael shook his head, then let out a small, bitter laugh. “This morning. In the car. I wanted that.”

  “I figured,” Ash sat down on the sofa. “You have some time, right? Pick a movie. We’ll watch something together.”

  “I should be getting back...”

  “So you’re home in time for dinner and bedtime? Come on, make up an excuse. Just enjoy yourself for once.”

  Michael looked over the shelves and pulled down a case. “I wanted to see this one. Michelle said no way. Too much gore.”

  “Good choice,” Ash said, catching the case as Michael tossed it to him. He bent over and put the disc in the DVD player. Michael watched as Ash’s tight jeans revealed the shape of his ass and he suppressed the urge to squeeze it.

  The movie sprang to life and Ash sat down on the sofa, playing with the remote. He patted the seat cushion next to him. “Sit!” he commanded. Michael sat down next to Ash, trying to ignore the other man’s body heat as the movie started.

  “This is great!” Michael laughed, an hour into the movie. Ash gave him a look he couldn’t read, a look of pity and fondness mixed together. The movie continued and Michael went on laughing. Ash was watching him more then the movie, just watching him chuckle and smile until the credits eventually rolled.