Free A Betting Man by Sandrine Gasq-DIon

said, looking at me in confusion. “Everything okay?”
    “It’s perfect.”
    We sat on a lounge chair out on my balcony, wrapped in a down comforter. I poured us both a glass of champagne and we sipped it, waiting for the ball to drop.
    “Kent?”
    “Yes?”
    “Are you happy? I mean with your life?”
    I kissed the top of his head and sipped my champagne.
    “Most of the time, I guess. I have everything I ever wanted. A nice place to live, nice clothes, a good job. Now I have you.” Terry seemed to stiffen a bit in my arms. I leaned down to kiss the shell of his ear. “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing.” He leaned his head back and our lips met.
    The tingle of champagne on his lips tickled mine and I took his glass from him. Cupping his chin in my hand, I lifted his mouth to mine for a proper kiss. Our lips came together and our tongues met. I moaned softly into Terry’s mouth and his hand snuck around to my crotch and rubbed my erection. I slid my hand around his cock and stroked him slowly. My hips moved with Terry’s rhythm and before I knew it, Terry was reaching for his pants on the chair next to us, digging into the pocket.
    My dick was freed from my shorts and a condom was rolled on. Terry maneuvered on the chair, lubing his asshole up. I watched his digits slide in and out and licked my lips. Settling back between my legs, Terry leaned his back against my chest and slid down on my cock slowly. The first firework went off, covering my loud gasp as Terry’s tight hole massaged my prick. Terry’s arms wrapped around the back of my neck as I held his hips, thrusting into him. The kiss was becoming almost feral and Terry was whimpering into my mouth. I gripped his hips hard and slammed into him from below. His loud cry timed perfectly with a burst of red, white and blue in the night sky. I came with a shout of my own, collapsing back into the lounge chair. We were both gasping for air and sweating even in the cool night. I held him close to me, breathing in his moist skin. I kissed his shoulder, trailing my lips across his skin.
    “Kent?” Terry whispered.
    “Yes?” I hugged him closer to me, nuzzling his hair.
    “Happy New Year.”
    “Happy New Year, Terry.”

~TERRY~
    I spent the next week in a fog. I went to work, came home, saw Kent and tried like hell to figure out what that niggling feeling was in my gut. I checked my mail on my way in and threw my jacket on the chair in the corner. I went to the kitchen and stopped. The ticket for the advertising awards ceremony stared back at me from the fridge. Kent had sent me a package the day before and I hadn’t opened it yet. The award thingie was tonight. My palms began to sweat and I looked at the time. Nine in the morning. I’d asked Spencer for today off so that I could pace my apartment all day.
    I walked back to my living room and looked at the package. I opened it carefully and looked inside. A tux. Not only a tux, but shoes as well. I sighed and picked up the letter inside.
    I didn’t know if you had one of these, so I got one for you. There’s a card in here for Maurice’s salon, too. He’s expecting you at noon. I’ll have a limo come for you at seven sharp!
    Kent.
    I sat down on the chair in my living room with the card in my hand. On New Year’s Eve, I had asked Kent if he was happy, and instead of telling me how happy I made him he had said that most of the time he was. And I had come last on his list of things that made him happy, too. Almost as if I was an afterthought. I sighed and looked at the tux in the box. It was a very expensive one. Spencer’s words reverberated in my head: Kent wanted to make me into someone he could show off. I walked to my mirror and looked at myself. My hair was past the nape of my neck, and my bangs were longer now, the purple streak an inch from my roots.
    I removed my earring slowly. I wanted Kent to be proud of how I looked. Did that make me a bad person? I didn’t think so. I wanted him to love me