Our First Meeting - The Notebook

Great news, my first novel "Our First Meeting - The Notebook" is coming out soon  to my author page on Amazon.com
and here is the new cover to it and a sample chapter. If you enjoy
Check my page on Amazon and my blog for Updates and interesting info.
Author Central - http://www.amazon.com/D.D.-Watson/e/B00FF605LI
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Thank You!

Chapter Six
The Call
Arian enjoyed a barbecue with his dads who finally took some time off, or so he thought. While Jay paced talking on his cell, Michael laid stretched out on a lounge texting. Both ignored Arian and the veggie burgers that he was asked to cook.
While flipping the meatless flesh Arian daydreamed about Simon. The SOB awoken feeling that Arian thought was just fantasies. That’s when his cell rang causing him to jump back to reality and to toss the spatula overhead and into the pool, which neither of his parents noticed.
He answered with a heavy sigh.
“Why are you so mopey?” asked Simon.
“Do you even care?”
“Don’t answer me with a question.”
“Sorry, I’m just having a bad day.”
“No you’re not, you’re with your daddies, isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Yes, but—how did you…”
“No questions, just listen. I’m going to text you the address; go to it in one hour.”
“But I’m supposed to…”
“Don’t worry about your daddies they’ll have other things to do. Don’t be late, oh and bring your latest notebook.”
The line went dead, and Arian returned his cell to his back pocket. He wanted his notebook, but this was the fourth one and how did he know he was still writing in one? Arian retrieved the skimmer for the pool to regain the spatula while doing so his dad Jay holding his cell approached him.
“Sorry, kiddo something came up at work and I have to go fix it, I’ll make it up to you next time.” He received a kiss on the forehead, and his father was off. Arian looked over and saw him exchange words with his dad Michael, who was not thrilled about the news. An intense whispering argument spewed between them. He knew they didn’t want him to hear, but he had heard the continuing fights at night.  Then like that Jay left and the Michael approached him, still holding his cell.
“Listen sweetie let’s skip this and go out to dinner later, I have a headache, so I’m going to lie down and have a nap first, ok?”
“Sure no problem,” replied Arian.
He left without asking him what he wanted to do, he knew he wasn’t going to take a nap he’s going to take a drink and disappear in his bedroom, and that will be the end of their family get together.
Once alone Arian turned off the grill and closed the lid, leaving the spatula were it lied at the bottom of the pool, he sat on one of the lounge chairs and checked his text. The address Simon sent him was there, and he had less than an hour to get there, he took a shower and called for a cab.
He left without a goodbye because two cocktails had rendered his father asleep. The cab drove him to the meeting place, finding it was a bit tricky considering it was on the side of town he usually never treads, not because of the neighborhood but because the house sat on a hill, and the property guarded with a thick, gothic gate. A large, black, round emblem that read “Welcome to the Teahouse," hung between the front gates and after the two guards, posted in a reasonable little house, cleared Arian to enter he watched as the gates slide apart and the emblem spin on its side. The drive up to the house was welcoming as they passed beautiful scenery of trees, plants and a water fountain big enough to be called a pool.
The painted lavender and palsy Victorian house stood out for its fellow neighbors and visitors. He paid the driver who left as Arian climbed the wooden steps alone holding his new notebook in one hand. He looked at the elegant stain glass window on the front door that bored the name “Teahouse” in italic letters and knocked; it opened right away.
A well-made male older and taller than Arian greeted him. He observed Arian up and down with greedy eyes and without a word he stepped aside to allow him entrance. Arian froze with caution; he didn’t know him, and he wasn’t going to enter the house he was unfamiliar with either, danger alert his father taught him when he was old enough to walk. He took a step back and opened his mouth to say he must have the wrong address when he heard Simon’s aggravated voice.
“Arian, bring your arse in here.” Simon ordered as Arian’s eyes laid on him sitting in an upright chair off to the side, he almost forgotten how handsome he was. Just, every being in his body told him to turn and run.
“Did I stutter?” he snapped, Arian entered still terrified of what he had planned for him, stopping just in front of him as he’s looked over with ruthless eyes. “I hate it when you don’t follow orders.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t know this place…”
“Shut up, your voice infuriates me, take him.”
“Take him, what did he mean by that?” he wondered until Arian felt two hands grabbing his arms and pinning them behind his back causing him to drop the notebook, the pain was unbearable as he cried out. One of the two men, the one who answered the door grabbed a fist full of his hair and tugged his head back.
Simon rose from his seat and glared at him; a third man appeared handing Simon his notebook. Simon took a moment to skim through it as the two that held Arian took liberties to rub his inner thigh and arse. Arian tried to resist and wonder why Simon was letting them touch him.
“Stop what’s happening,” Arian panicked trying to wiggle away from the hands’ suggestive touches. Simon brought his attention back to him.
“It’s time that you learn your place Arian. I can’t have you questioning me or hesitating when I order you to do something.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Shut your mouth; take him upstairs, I believe he’ll remember this scene from his last notebook, let’s not disappoint him.”
Arian knew what he was talking about, but he never dreamed of doing it for real. He fought to free himself, but he was over muscled and taken to a room that was at the very end of the hall with double French doors. They barged in, and first site was the bed; a Black Lacquer French Bed, it was perfect in every way, in fact, it was the bed of his dreams standing before him only, on it was a guy the same age as him bound, naked and gagged.
His hair was dark as a raven’s feathers but streaked with blue; his skin was a creamy white and flawless, he was a character that Arian created in his tales now real and exposed before him.

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