...Shawn strolled into the XXX bookstore and glanced around the almost empty shop. He’d left his suit jacket and tie in the car, hoping the rolled sleeves and open collar of his white dress shirt would suffice as casual enough. If not, maybe he’d find someone who had a suit fetish. After all, he still wore the charcoal-colored Versace slacks and coordinating dress shoes.

Honestly, he didn’t really care what ticket he punched with someone as long as he got off in the process. The muscles in his shoulders were tense, his body tight with pressure, but it was nothing a good orgasm or three wouldn’t take care of. While he could manage on his own, as he had been for the last several months, he was in the mood for a little assistance this afternoon. All he had to do was find someone interested in helping him out.

There were a few people milling around the shelves—a guy dressed in black from head to toe, a bleach-blond bimbo who was clearly looking for tricks, and a man nearly old enough to be related to Father Time. A bored, overweight clerk with dark, greasy hair flipped through a Juggz magazine behind the counter.

All in all, Shawn had to say his options looked slim. For noon on a Friday, the place was dead. He’d expected more when he’d decided to pop by for a little lunchtime recreation after a round of annoying meetings. The morning had been one shit-storm after another, ending with the loss of a multi-million dollar merger with P & E systems when the homophobic CEO had gleefully announced they would be taking their business elsewhere…just because Shawn preferred dick over snatch. If he ever figured out who’d spilled his personal business to the bastard he was going to pound heads. What he did in his spare time was nobody else’s fucking business. It didn’t have a goddamn thing to do with how he ran his company.

What he needed now was a diversion to take his mind off the money he’d lost. Losing himself in a sweet piece of ass was preferable, but he’d settle for a nice hand job. Right then he wasn’t in the position to be choosy.

He bypassed the shelves and headed toward the back, a pocket full of tokens from his last visit jangling in his pocket. Four movie stalls lined the short, dingy hall. Three out of the four were occupied, the doors closed. Whoever was in the last stall on the right had left the door ajar.

Shawn approached with the hope that the person inside was to his liking and willing to play. Although it was dim inside the booth, Shawn was able to discern a slender young man, his dark hair spiked with gel. One pale hand hung at his side, the short nails painted black. He faced the movie screen where two naked, muscle-bound jocks wrestled on a mat. Shawn hoped the actors on the screen didn’t represent the only type of man the other guy was interested in, because he sure as hell wouldn’t ever be described as overly muscular. He kept in shape, his six-foot frame lean and firm without being bulgy. Thanks to the gray hair encroaching on his temples, people would be more apt to describe him as a silver fox than anything else. The gay social scene revolved around youth, but Shawn knew without a doubt that he’d never been happier, more secure, more accepting of his lot in life than he was now at the ripe old age of forty-two. No way would he go back to the angst-ridden hell of his twenties.

Coughing discreetly, Shawn announced his presence to the guy in the booth. The younger man turned his head, appeared to give Shawn a quick once-over, and quirked one black-lacquered fingernail in a come-hither motion.

That was all the permission Shawn needed to slip inside and close the door behind him. He stepped closer, and the dim, pulsing light from the screen flashed over the younger man’s features, revealing large kohl-rimmed eyes and plump lips. His forehead was high, his nose a little too long for his face. Shawn guessed his age as somewhere around early to mid-twenties.