Blake Hudson has everything. The perfect job, a penthouse apartment, and killer abs. But when he suffers a heart attack at 39, he realizes something is missing from his life and wonders if being career-oriented was just another way of saying workaholic.
When his doctor suggests he take time off from work, Blake puts it off. He’s got too much work as a new partner in New York City’s hottest advertising agency and he’s about to land a multi-million dollar account. But his employer pulls rank and surprises him with the keys to his own house in Fort Lauderdale, the Venice of America.
With Ricky Sanchez, a smoldering Latin hunk, Blake discovers there truly is more to life than working 24/7 and making money. There are places to visit, things to do, and steamy sex to be had anywhere their imagination will let them. But all vacations must come to an end. What will Blake choose when the agency calls him back to babysit his coveted multi-million dollar account?
* * * * *
Blake went into his room, closed the door, then leaned against it. He exhaled sharply. There was only one reason he could think of for why he had stopped the banter. Certainly the age difference was something to consider, but it had never stopped him before.
Chickenshit! a voice taunted.
Blake picked up his iPhone and scrolled for his doctor’s number in New York. He dialed, unable to believe that of the seemingly hundreds of questions he’d asked, there was one crucial question he’d forgotten.
“Dr. Mellon’s office,” a pleasant female voice answered.
“Uh, yes, hi.” Blake spoke softly, afraid of being overheard. “My name is Blake Hudson, and I’m a cli -- I mean, a patient of Dr. Mellon’s.”
“I’m sorry, sir. Can you please speak up?”
Shit! Why the hell am I whispering? It’s not like they can possibly hear me in this big house!
Blake spoke more loudly and asked to speak to the doctor.
“I’m sorry, sir. Dr. Mellon is in surgery today. I can take a message for him if you like. He’ll be calling in for his messages later this afternoon.”
Blake wondered how it would sound to her and he suddenly felt self-conscious. But surely this wasn’t the first time the question had come up.
“Can you please ask him if I can...uh...if I can have sex? Er, with someone else, I mean.”
The woman was silent. Blake imagined her putting the phone on mute and bursting into laughter, perhaps sharing it with the others in the office, the nurses. Blake’s throat felt dry. He was about to hang up, when the woman spoke again.
“Your phone number, please?”
Blake sighed, realizing he had been holding his breath. He gave her his number.
“Are there...any other cardiologists there who can answer my question?”
“I’ll run it past her and have someone call you.”
Blake thanked her and hung up.
* * * * *
Time definitely passes much more slowly here than in New York, Blake thought impatiently. An hour and a half had felt like an entire day.
Blake shifted for the millionth time, striking what he hoped was a sexy and seductive yet casual pose on the chaise, just in case Ricky walked out onto patio after the massage.
Bosco had curled up at his feet, and the bowl Blake had filled with fruit earlier sat empty on a glass table beside him.
But Derrick walked out alone, wrapped in a white towel.
“Hello,” Blake said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Mmm. Hello, yourself.” Derrick rolled his head and shrugged, grinning.
“I take it the massage was good?”
“Oh my God. Probably the best I’ve ever had.” Derrick pouted. “No happy ending, though.”
“Yeah. You know.” Derrick crudely pretended to jerk off. Secretly, Blake was glad Ricky wasn’t that kind of masseuse.
“Still,” Derrick continued, “I suppose it’s more about the therapeutic value than getting off. Right? But it’s so intimate, and I get so damn horny when a hot guy like Ricky plays with my body.” Derrick trembled, then sighed. “Say, did you call the doctor? Do you know if you can get a massage?”
“How the hell should I know?” Blake snapped irritably. “I’m not even sure if I can have sex!” Then he looked up at Derrick, who grinned lasciviously. Blake cleared his throat.
“Oh!” Derrick teased. “I see. You liked Ricky, didn’t you?”
“No!” Blake replied, sounding much more emphatic than he needed to. “It’s just, you know, in case I hit a bar or something.”
“Yeah, right.” Derrick put his hands on his hips, then made his way to the chaise beside Blake’s.
“So where is Ricky, anyway?”
“He’s gone. Had to go to school.” Derrick sat and leaned back.
“Yeah. He’s finishing up his bachelor’s in marketing.”
“Marketing? But that’s great! When he’s done, maybe we can offer him a position.”
“Two steps ahead of you, buddy. I already hinted at it, but either he doesn’t get subtlety or he’s not interested.”
“Oh,” Blake muttered, unable to hide his disappointment.
“But he asked about you,” Derrick teased.
“Oh?” Blake couldn’t resist breaking out into a smile.
“Yeah. He wanted to know if you were single.”
“Really? Did he ask anything else?”
“He wanted to know if you were a nice guy.”
“And?” The smile turned into a grin. “What did you tell him?”
Derrick arched his eyebrows and took a deep breath, as if for dramatic effect. He then glanced at Blake with an apologetic look.
“I told him you were a prick, had been married twice, and had a brood of kids back in New York.” Derrick said, deadpan, then burst into laughter.
“I gave him your number. He sounded pretty eager. Don’t disappoint him! Now c’mon!” Derrick jumped out of his chaise and rubbed his hands together. “I have a city full of hot men to show you and only a few hours to do it!”
Copyright © Johnny Miles