with his sandy hair falling over those wild green eyes.
More shameful still, he’d looked up Benjamin’s profile to find out his age. He was twenty-three, older than most students. And there was something in his eyes that made him seem older still, a hardness suggesting life experience, something Peter rarely saw at Kelsingford.
It doesn’t matter , he thought as he pulled his car out of the driveway and headed down the road toward the party. He’s still a student, and he’s still too damn young for you . Peter decided he’d simply find a similar looking young man tonight at Thorn’s—there were always a bevy of willing young prospects to go around—and he would safely, and without risk, fuck Benjamin LeClair out of his system.
He had to get the boy out of his mind, and quick. Because on Monday, unless the student produced some compelling evidence that he’d turned in that test, Peter was not going to budge. Benjamin was getting an F.
Chapter Three
Thorn’s back garden was as impressive as his house, and Benjamin and Dominick stood in awe, heads swiveling to take in the sights. Beautiful people were everywhere, and with the accommodating spring weather, had taken the opportunity to show a lot of skin. They congregated in groups around the flowering trees that twinkled with tiny white lights, swaying to the slow, seductive music, laughing and drinking, some kissing and fondling. Steam rose from the two hot tubs and the large, heated swimming pool. While there was a lot of bare flesh, especially near the pool, many remained dressed: men in stylish designer suits and women in silky shift dresses. It was a strange contrast of elegance and debauchery, and Benjamin felt lost and out of place, drinking his champagne so fast he became light headed.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Dom said, beaming. “Is this incredible, or what?”
“It’s something all right,” Ben said, watching a pair of shirtless men ceremoniously coating a third, completely nude, with glittery body paint. The third man’s face and torso shimmered with rainbow colors. Palms meticulously stroked his bare buttocks and thighs as they continued their masterpiece.
Ben looked beyond the garden at the vast, stretching green of Thorn’s property, then back up at the palatial home. He’d never known anyone this rich, and was having trouble accepting that one man lived with such excess. He hoped to have a mere portion of such comforts one day, but all he’d ever known was struggle, so it was hard to imagine.
He watched a group of attractive, shirtless men head out into the field, where at the perimeter of the property, a line of cabana cabins edged the woods, each lit romantically with red glowing lanterns. Men went in, and men came out, and though the quaint cabanas looked festive and romantic, Ben couldn’t help thinking of brothels. Sting sang inside his headof Roxanne and putting on the red light.
“Let’s check out the pool,” Dom said, moving ahead of him down the garden path, illuminated with Chinese lanterns.
Ben followed warily. This should be cheering him up, but he couldn’t seem to get into the spirit. They passed several men along the path who eyed him and Dominick with open interest. Dom offered appreciative grins in return, but Ben kept his head down, avoiding eyes, pretending not to feel the light brush of fingers along his bicep, nor hear the soft whistles of appreciation. He wished he hadn’t worn this tight shirt, wished he was wearing a snow parka and goggles so he could just fade into the background.
Dominick found them a pair of lounge chairs, and they joined the dozens of other guests who watched the activity in the swimming pool as though it was a sporting event. And he supposed it was. Young men swam and splashed each other playfully, while couples and a few threesomes huddled in the water at the edges, mouths pressed together, slick bodies grinding.
“You want to go in the hot tub?” Dominick