Men of London 05 - Cross to Bare (10 page)

Lenny drained his wine and pushed it over for Brook to refill. “Okay. Let me play it straight then.” They both sniggered slightly at that phrase. “I
am
a transvestite. I wear women’s clothing and have a whole different persona when I do. That doesn’t mean I’m going to run out and get a va-jay-jay, or have boob implants. I love being a man and having a dick.”

Lenny continued Brook’s sadly lacking education. “I’m also not going to run off and join a drag show, although I have partaken in one or two in my lifetime. My best friend Ryan is a drag queen with his own club, and every now and again, I enjoy being flamboyant.” He gave Brook a sly smile. “And I’m definitely not transgender because, as I said, I have no desire to be a woman physically. Hell, Brook, Google is your friend and Wikipedia does great things to explain all this stuff.”

There was silence as Lenny took another gulp of his drink. He really needed something stronger than wine if he was going to continue this conversation. He took a deep breath.

“Look, I created Laverne Debussy-Smith back at university because it was fun to have a name to the woman I was when I cross-dressed. It entertained my friends, it made me feel good and somehow it stuck. I didn’t always use her though, not until I got my fashion business. Then, I was so embedded in the fashion scene as both Lenny and Laverne; I decided it would be good to have the two sides of me. Laverne won the toss-up as the embodiment of the business, and looking back, I think it was the right decision.”

“I’m not judging you, Lenny,” Brook said softly. “I really enjoy your company. And if we’re going to do this seeing each other thing, I need to understand you a bit more. And Laverne too, obviously.” He smiled, but Lenny saw the hesitation in it. His stomach fell. He wasn’t sure he was getting through to Brook, although his words gave Lenny some comfort Brook wasn’t going to run screaming from the room.

Brook leaned forward as his fingers toyed with his wineglass. “Aren’t you scared some people might take exception to you dressing as a woman and try and pick on you?” His voice was tentative. “Even hurt you somehow? I’ve seen that happen and it isn’t something I could go through again.”

Lenny snorted. “They can fucking try. I used to do martial arts and box. I can take care of myself.”

Brook didn’t look convinced, his face creasing in a frown. Lenny twirled his wine glass in his fingers and sighed sadly. “We have so many faces we have to wear each day as a man. Brother, son, partner, the bedrock of the family, the provider. That was how it was engrained in me when I was growing up. Men are men; that’s what my father tried to teach me, over and over again.” He heard the hate in his own voice. “Laverne allowed me to be someone else, someone where I could escape the pressures of being a man, be softer, be in control of who I am…” He stopped, aware he’d probably said more than he’d intended.

With a tender look, Brook leaned over and brushed fingers down Lenny’s jawline. “You didn’t like your dad.” His matter-of-fact statement opened the floodgates in Lenny’s soul. This was a story he didn’t tell anyone. Only his dear friend and sometime fuck-buddy, Ryan, knew about this part of his life.

Lenny tone was flat. “I never use the term ‘dad’ to apply to my father.
Dad
is someone you can respect, love.” He rubbed his thumb over Brook’s fingers. “My father was one of those who insisted his son be manly, be the strong one. He took me hunting, tried to make me kill things, wanted me to play rugby and be like him. I didn’t live up to his expectations and he made sure I knew that. I was too soft, too girly in his eyes, because I didn’t play much sport or go hunting. I preferred reading fashion magazines, tracing out patterns and creating my own clothes.” His voice cracked slightly. He hated telling this story, hated pity of any kind when he explained what kind of man his father had been. But if it gave Brook more insight into the person that was Lenny, he was willing to do it.

Brook leaned over, concern on his face, and covered Lenny’s hand with his warm one. “He sounds tough.”

Lenny gave a harsh laugh. “I hated him. My father was a hard, unpitying man and all he wanted was his only son to one day run the family farm. My younger sisters, Jane and Patrice, were beneath that consideration, being female. My mother was a timid, frightened woman whose only mission in life was to please him.”

Brook’s hand tightened on his. “I’m sorry you had such an experience,” he murmured, fingers stroking Lenny’s.

Lenny nodded, his throat tight. “There was this one day when I was twelve. My father hit me when I refused to pull the trigger on a poor, petrified rabbit cowering by the side of the shed where we lived on the farm in Suffolk. He ignored everything I said to him about not wanting to and why, cocked the rifle and blew the poor creature to smithereens. Then he made me clean up the mess.”

Brook gasped. “That’s fucking wrong.”

Lenny nodded tiredly. “I cried that night in bed. I was damned if I’d have done that in front of him. He would have smacked me around a bit more then locked me in the cellar for the night.” He grinned twistedly. “I hated that fucking place. Dark, cold and noises no one could explain. I didn’t want to end up down there again. I spent too much time in there as it was, locked in with no supper, until
he
decided to let me out.”

Brook’s look of horror caused Lenny to reach over and kiss him gently. “It’s a long time ago,” he murmured as his lips brushed over Brook’s. “I try to forget that part of my life.”

“Where is the rest of your family?” Brook’s head tilted. “Your mum and your sisters?”

Lenny’s heart clenched and he felt the familiar grief well inside. “They’re dead,” he said curtly. “They all died in a fire at the farm after I’d left.”

He laughed again but there was no amusement in it. “Or rather after I was kicked out at fifteen when my father decided I wasn’t the son he wanted. Some busybody told him I’d been seen in an alleyway doing disgusting things to another boy.” His words were mocking. “It was only a damn blowjob. When I got home, he beat the shit out of me, pushed me out of the house and that was the last I ever saw of any of them. I wasn’t allowed to go back. It would have been impossible to go home since my father told lies about me to my sisters, about what I’d done. I don’t know exactly what he told them, but they didn’t want to see me again. I got a letter from Jane a few months after I left telling me never to get in touch again. Mum went along with whatever Dad said. She wasn’t a very strong woman.” He smiled sadly. “The farm burnt down about three years later. I heard about their deaths from another relative. I wasn’t even invited to the funerals.”

Brook didn’t even hesitate. He stood up swiftly, went over to a startled Lenny and pulled him up. Lenny found himself being enveloped in strong arms as soft kisses were pressed to his forehead. “He was an arsehole,” Brook whispered fiercely. “He didn’t deserve a son like you. I’m so lucky to have the parents I have. I can’t imagine what you went through.”

Lenny closed his eyes and inhaled Brook’s scent. “It was an experience,” he admitted as his lips trailed soft kisses down Brook’s throat.

“Actually, I was lucky,” Lenny continued. “When I was kicked out I found a place I could call home for a while. It was in an old dojo on the outskirts of town. The guy who owned it, Patrick, took me in and I did odd jobs around there until I was old enough to stand on my own two feet.” His voice quietened as he remembered the gruff, taciturn man who’d changed his life. “He was a godsend for me. He was kind, rough and not interested in my body. He taught me how to defend myself, put a roof over my head, and when he died,” Lenny’s voice softened at the memory of watching someone he’d cared deeply about die slowly of cancer, “I learned he was very wealthy, and he left me everything. I was able to put myself through fashion college, buy a small place of my own and eventually, I started Debussy’s.” He placed a soft kiss on Brook’s lips. “And I found you. Then I pushed you away, because I didn’t want to get hurt.” He made a moue. “I was an idiot.”

Brook’s eyes searched Lenny’s face. “You are something else,” he whispered and Lenny closed his eyes as hard, demanding lips covered his and Brook’s tongue snaked in and took possession. Their bodies ground together and hardening cocks pressed against each other. Lenny moaned into Brook’s mouth.

“Oh, what you do to me. You’re like this incubus I can’t resist.”

Brook nibbled at Lenny’s ear. “Incubus? Hmmm. I like that description of me as a wanton, sex-mad demon.” He pulled away with a wicked grin, leaving Lenny aching and horny. “Come on, it’s time for dessert. I made a New York cheesecake.”

Lenny stared at him incredulously. “You give me a boner then expect me to eat cheesecake?”

“Stop pouting like that,” Brook murmured. “It’s pretty cute and makes me want to rip your clothes off.” He chuckled as Lenny’s eyes widened both in indignation and anticipation.

“I am not cute,” Lenny spluttered. “I have staff who are cute but that’s not me.”

Brook regarded him in amusement. “Uh-huh. Definitely cute.” He danced off towards the kitchen. “Cake first, and then we can get busy again. And we still have some more talking to do,” he warned. “I’m sure there’s a lot more you can tell me about yourself.”

Lenny rolled his eyes. “I can see this is going to be one of
those
relationships,” he griped. “You feed me until I’m fat and can’t fit in my clothes anymore then talk me to death after wild monkey sex.”

Brook turned slowly and Lenny’s stomach fell.

Shit, had he used the R word? It was a bit soon for that, wasn’t it? He didn’t even know if, after all this talking, Brook was going to still see him.

Brook didn’t look perturbed about it. Hope flamed in Lenny’s chest that perhaps this might all turn out for the best.

Brook looked at him, his gaze heated. “Are you going to stand there and flap those gorgeous lips, or are you going to get over here, eat cake, and then let me fuck you?” His satisfied yet ultra-sexy smirk at seeing Lenny race over to the kitchen counter ignited another spark of desire in his groin. That damn cake had better go down smoothly and quickly because he couldn’t wait much longer to have that promise fulfilled.

Chapter 8

The next few weeks were both a pleasure and a torture. Despite the great sex and the welcome company, Brook was aware there was an elephant in the room regarding his and Lenny’s relationship.

Her name was Laverne.

Lenny and Brook had talked about the alter ego, and while Brook accepted she existed, he was struggling to accept it wholeheartedly. Laverne was the reason they didn’t stay over at each other’s places when they got together. Lenny would need a whole suitcase to drag to Brook’s place to get ready in the morning. Instead, he preferred to go home in the early hours so he could get some sleep before work. For that reason, Brook tended to spend most nights at Lenny’s place. It was still a little disquieting seeing his lover dress up as a woman before going to work.

Brook still worried about Lenny in public when he went out dressed like that. He was working on his insecurities with the situation, but given a past bad experience, it was taking time.

He’d decided he needed to better get to know the woman that was Laverne Debussy-Smith. And what better way to do this than at her workplace, during a fashion show tonight? Brook was looking forward to it but was a little nervous about seeing the woman in action. He chuckled to himself. He had a business excuse to be there. The loan Lenny had agreed to accept from his company had come through and Brook thought he’d check out his investment.

He picked up his keys and jacket, stepped into the corridor and was busy locking the door when he heard a noise behind him. He turned to see his neighbour stepping out. Brook had often had people knock on his door mistaking his flat 22A for 22B. The weirdly named occupant, Mango Munroe, of said 22B was a bit of an enigma and had the nocturnal habits worthy of a badger.

“Evening, neighbour.” A soft, Somerset drawl echoed in the hallway. Mango was a little intimidating. In his mid-thirties, he was about six foot two, broad and well-built with knotted muscles in his forearms, and an untidy mess of golden brown hair that fell forward over his forehead. Brook had always thought he had a rather dangerous air about him. It lurked in his eyes; they were watchful, almost black and seemed to take a man’s measure in one narrow-eyed glance.

Rumours from some of the other inhabitants of the building told the story of how, in his younger days, Mango had been at some fox hunting protest. When challenged with force and told to leave the area, he’d managed to take out a contingent of three police officers using only the cricket bat he held and an antique knuckle duster. The urban legend also said he’d spent a year in prison for some or other escapade, the details of which were unknown. The building tenants held him in some sort of worshipful regard.

“You off to the fashion show? You look pretty spruced up.” Mango grinned. Brook frowned, wondering how Mango knew about it.

“Yes. Are you going too?” He didn’t think so. Mango was dressed more for a casual night out on the town with his blue jeans and polo shirt.

“Nah.” Mango shrugged. “Not my cup of tea, more the…” He hesitated. “The boyfriend’s. He’s into that stuff. We have a mutual acquaintance—your man Lenny.”

Brook stared at him. “You know him then?”

Mango is gay?

Mango grinned. “I know Lenny well. He’s a great guy.”

Brook was taken aback. “Small world,” he murmured. It explained how he knew about Brook and the fashion show. He must have seen them together.

“Well, enjoy yourself. Give Laverne a big kiss from me. I love that woman.” Mango grinned and waved goodbye as he disappeared down the corridor towards the lifts.

Brook nodded. “Sure, I’ll do that.”

He huffed out a breath as he left the building to get to the tube station. Time to get to the show and see exactly what he’d let himself in for in getting involved with Lenny.

*****

An hour later he stared around the room with wide-eyed yet horrified fascination. Coming here had been a brave decision and one he was beginning to regret.