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touch became a firm grip. “So, would you come home with me tonight?”
    “Yeah.” I squeezed his hand. “I’d like that…very much.”
     
    DUET IN BLOOD
    J.P. Bowie
    25
     

     
    I can’t believe I’m doing this , I thought as I sat by Joseph’s side in the cab. I had never done this, at least, not after only a half hour’s conversation. But, there was something so alluring about this guy. He was different from the usual barflies I remembered from when I was a frequent customer at the Blue Moon in the days before Robert. But I’d met Robert there too, and as attracted to him as I’d been the first time I’d seen him, he still had not affected me quite like this. That had come later.
    A sense of urgency coursed through me as the brightly lit entrance to the hotel loomed before us. Somewhere in there, Joseph had a suite, with a big bed, and I couldn’t wait to get him into it—couldn’t wait until I slipped my hands under his shirt and felt the warmth and smoothness of his skin. My face grew hot again as the hardness of my erection pressed against the denim of my jeans. Jeez, cut that out , I told it. I have to stand up in a minute.
    The suite Joseph ushered me into was big and lavishly furnished, and through the door to the bedroom, I saw a big bed—a very big bed.
    “Can I get you something to drink?” Joseph asked, gesturing to a well-stocked bar.
    “Just a beer, if you have it.”
    “Of course.”
    I looked around while Joseph opened the fridge and popped a bottle. From the large windows, there was magnificent view of Los Angeles, the lights of the city shimmering in the night haze.
    “Here you are.” He smiled as he handed me a glass filled to the brim. “ Salud ,” he said softly, clinking his glass of red wine against my beer glass. “ A votre santé .”
    “What does that mean?”
    “It means ‘to your health’.”
    “ A votre santé ,” I repeated, lifting my glass again to his.
    He moved closer and brushed my lips with his, giving me that little electric tingle again. “Thank you,” he murmured.
    I closed my eyes, waiting for another kiss, but he had stepped back.
    “So…” I cleared my throat. It felt strangely constricted from the disappointment that welled inside me. “What is it you do when you’re here in LA?”
    DUET IN BLOOD
    J.P. Bowie
    26
     
    “I have some financial business to attend to for clients who live here.”
    “They must be very wealthy clients, if you come all the way from Paris for them.”
    “They are.” Joseph regarded me with amusement in his eyes. “Very wealthy. You seem troubled, Micah.”
    “I feel a little out of my depth to be honest. I guess I’m not used to this kind of opulence. I…I live on a pretty modest budget. You obviously move in circles I know nothing about.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    “Well, I just have to look around. And now we’re in better lighting, I can tell those jeans you’re wearing didn’t come from Mervyns.”
    Joseph chuckled. “Then I shall lower the lights.”
    I sighed. “You’re very nice, but I think I should go.”
    “But why?”
    “Because, when I saw you tonight, I was kinda hoping you’d be the one to snap me out of this gloom and doom mood I’ve been in for months now…” I stopped, clearing my throat again. What the hell was I doing, blabbing about stuff this guy didn’t want to hear? He was lookin’ to get laid, for Pete’s sake.
    Joseph’s smile did not falter. “Go on,” he said.
    “It’s just that you’re out of my league. I manage a bookstore, and you—I mean, what are you? Still in your twenties and you’re a high-flying financier? You live in Paris. I live in West Hollywood. You stay in fancy hotels. I barely manage to pay the rent on a one-bedroom apartment. I look at you, and I see someone I would love to know better—someone I could respect and admire—”
    “As do I,” Joseph said. Putting down his wineglass on a nearby table, he walked
    towards me. “I look at