Ganymede Tilt

Chapter 1There was a time when Sean Morgan had attended parties for fun—before he got into politics. “Come on, you can at least get me five minutes with her,” Heather said. Sean frowned at her. “You’re trespassing on our friendship.” “My hand will trespass sharply around your ear if you use that tone with me, Morgan.” He tried to keep the smile off his face. Heather Freeman hadn’t put up with his bullshit one single time since they were kids. “Patience,” he said. “I’ll get you a quick walk and talk. But don’t get too heavy with the questions. This is a party, not a press conference.” “Franklin staffer attempts to interfere with the press? Hmm, think I’ve got my story already.” “I’m not a staffer,” Sean said. Not yet. Just a volunteer party activist. For now. And he needed to get in a bit more activity than standing around talking to Heather. Some commotion around the doorway caught his eye. “Looks like the SolCorp delegation is here. Catch you later for that walk and talk.” He left her making notes and headed to the door to greet the delegation. “Good evening, sir,” he said, offering his hand to Price, the local director of the largest mining company in the solar system. Also Sean’s boss. For now. “Morgan,” Price said, looking at him with some suspicion. “The union has an invitation then?” Sean resisted the usual urge he felt to knee the guy in the nuts and flashed the party badge in his lapel. “Tonight I’m here working for Representative Franklin.” “I wonder you have time to come to work at the mine at all,” Price said. Sean didn’t rise to the jibe. His taking the time away from work for his union duties, though entirely legal, always bothered management. That he apparently had yet another job wouldn’t make them any happier. Never mind. He might have three jobs right now, but he had plans to cut them down to one—and Price would no longer be his boss. “If you’d like to see the representative, she’s on the terrace,” Sean said. Price swept past him, and the rest of the delegation followed. Only one of them bothered to acknowledge Sean. “Morgan.” Shit. Alex Jackson. A tall black man Sean’s age, and who filled out a good suit well, stopped to speak to Sean. Sean nodded and tried to stay cool, hoping a blush was not creeping up around his collar. “Jackson,” he said in the same cool tone. If Alex was blushing, it was hidden by his dark skin. He met Sean’s gaze only briefly. “I…Good evening.” Alex strode off after his fellow executives. Sean couldn’t resist watching him go, wishing his extremely fine ass wasn’t hidden under the tail of his jacket. Sean knew exactly how fine it was, because he’d had his hands on it twice now. Only his hands on it, sadly, not his c**k in it, which was something he’d like to change. Not tonight, though. Alex had made it clear with his frosty greeting that he didn’t want the other partygoers to see a hint of anything between them. There wasn’t anything between them. They’d had a couple of casual encounters after running into each other in a bar. They weren’t lovers or anything. Between the union and his ambitions with Franklin, Sean cultivated contacts like some people cultivated orchids, and Alex could be a useful one. The benefits on the side were a definite bonus, though. Alex had shown up on Ganymede two months ago, transferred in from SolCorp’s Head Office on Earth, and the scuttlebutt Sean had picked up was that he’d been involved in some kind of scandal. He was here as punishment, Sean assumed, the moons of the outer planets not being the most plum assignments for up-and-coming young executives. And Sean wanted to know why, what was he being punished for? The first time Sean ran into Alex in a bar, it had been an accident. The second time it had not. But so far all Sean had gotten out of him was a couple of blowjobs. He shook himself from contemplation of Alex Jackson and his fine ass, and went back to work. An hour later, Heather caught up with him again. “How about that walk and talk then?” she said. “I’m not here for my health, you know. My editor expects me to bring back something more than a report on the quality of the canapés.” Sean glanced over at Franklin. The head of the local transport company had been monopolizing her quite long enough, he decided. She caught his eye, and he made a quick gesture toward Heather at his side. Franklin nodded, and Sean led Heather over there. “Do excuse me a moment,” Franklin said to the transport boss. She did it so graciously, Sean thought. As if she was only popping away from the person speaking to her for a moment, though everyone involved knew it really meant “your turn is up for tonight.” She turned to Heather. “Ms. Freeman, how nice to see you again. How’s little Jamie doing?” She guided Heather away with a hand on her elbow. Another trick Sean would have to learn—remembering the names and the kids’ names of everyone he met. People loved that stuff, and Franklin was good at it. At a loose end for a moment, and with a dry throat from too much schmoozing, he made for the free bar. A few people were taking full advantage of it already, getting loud. One was doing the former, but not the latter. Sitting quietly at the bar, shoulders slumped, sat Alex Jackson. Sean frowned. Interesting. The times they’d met in the bar, Alex hadn’t been drinking alcohol. Built like that, athletic, muscular, he probably treated his body like a temple. Not the type to get smashed just because there was free booze. So…interesting. “Hey.” Sean took a seat beside him. “I’ll have what he’s having,” he said to the bartender, nodding at Alex. “Got some catching up to do then.” The barman put a double vodka down in front of Sean and dropped a couple of ice cubes in it. Alex looked at him through rather red eyes. “Sean.” “Alex.” Sean raised his glass as if in a toast and took a sip, careful to keep the grimace off his face. He hated vodka. Never mind—he’d only wanted to know what Alex was drinking. And why he was drinking so hard. “Remember when parties were for having fun?” he asked, recalling what he’d thought before. This was important work for him, but he couldn’t pretend to enjoy it. “I never liked parties,” Alex said. Sean could believe it. Probably stayed in and studied a lot—he had impressive grades from a top college. Yes, Sean had looked them up. Because he had to figure out why. Why was this well-qualified guy, not quite thirty yet, who’d been on the fast track to the board, here on Ganymede? He’d been described as “our most promising recruit” when the company took him on, so why was he here in a backwater? Some kind of racist s**t? Had he done too well? Made the white guys look bad and been sent to the boondocks for his presumption? There was always the possibility Sean was reading it wrong and Alex was here to lay the groundwork or gather information for some kind of s**t the company was planning to pull. But if that were the case, why would he be so depressed? Alex looked over at him, his gaze traveling down Sean’s body, and Sean felt the blush rise again, not liking that he reacted so easily to the guy. Alex’s gaze traveled back up to his face. Sean smiled, until Alex spoke. “That’s a dreadful suit.” Sean moved uncomfortably in his seat, suddenly self-conscious. s**t. That was just uncalled for. No, it wasn’t a good suit, unlike the dark blue tailor-made perfection embracing Alex’s body. “We’re not all on your salary,” he said, bristling. “Sorry,” Alex muttered. “I just meant, if you wore a good suit, you…” He shook his head. “Sorry.” He turned away and raised a hand to the bartender again. Sean caught the guy’s eye and gave a small frown. The bartender shook his head at Alex. “You’re cut off,” Sean said. “Free bar doesn’t mean ‘drink yourself into a stupor,’ you know.” “I’m not drunk.” Alex did manage to stand without swaying too much, but Sean grabbed his arm anyway. “You’d better go home.” He glanced over to see if Price was watching. “Your boss is here, remember? This isn’t the time or place.” Whatever had happened to make him get sent here, disgracing himself in front of Price wouldn’t help him get his career back on track. Alex’s career was neither here nor there to Sean, but earning goodwill was always useful. “Let me take you home.” Alex looked at him, a long look, until Sean thought he couldn’t breathe until Alex blinked. When Alex spoke at last and dropped Sean’s gaze, Sean had to gasp for breath. He wanted to speak. He wanted to beg. You’re beautiful. I want you. Let me f**k you. “Thanks,” Alex said. “I guess I had too many. Not used to it.” Sean shook the feeling off. A passing madness. Flattering lighting turning Alex’s eyes into dark pools in his handsome face, highlights on his dark skin turned to amber by the warm-toned lamps over the bar. Alex let Sean guide him out to the main drag of the orbital, bustling with the nighttime crowds. A couple of taxis waited outside, and Sean whistled one up. Alex climbed in and fell onto the seat. Sean should have closed the door on him and said good night, but instead he climbed in to join Alex. “I’m quite capable of getting home,” Alex protested as the cab moved off. “Humor me,” Sean said. Alex looked at him narrowly, probably wondering what else Sean had in mind. What else did he have in mind? And did Alex object? It had been good, the two times they’d done it so far, but three times would be getting too heavy. Sean wasn’t looking for a lover, or any kind of emotional involvement. He was too damn busy. “You okay?” Sean asked. “Not going to be sick?” “No,” Alex snapped. “I’m…cold.” That made no sense to Sean. Cold? In this perfectly climate-controlled environment? Maybe it was because of the drink. Sean moved a little closer to Alex and thought about putting his arm around him, but he didn’t. Instead he only smiled at him, as if a smile could warm Alex up. And started to think about what he wanted to do to him at the end of this ride. * * * * Alex wanted Sean. He decided it suddenly, knowing it was a decision made deep in the coldness inside him. He wanted Sean to light a fire tonight, keep him warm, remind him he was alive, because every day he felt more and more numb, cold, and dead. He should be wary of Sean; he knew that. They didn’t work together, so that wasn’t the problem, but Sean was a senior man in the local union and a “troublemaker” according to Price and his cronies. Alex should stay well away from a troublemaker. He’d had enough trouble. His throat tightened, and his eyes grew hot. Shame. Humiliation. It all swept over him again. I must not think of it. Bury the thoughts deep. There was only one distraction from them. The one he’d gone looking for the night he’d met Sean in a bar. They’d recognized each other and naturally fell to talking. Alex had been the one to suggest a motel room. And who could blame him? Bad suit aside, Sean was hot. He had a body made strong and muscular by hard physical work. Big hands and a big c**k to go with them. Alex had enjoyed getting his hands into Sean’s thick, coarse light-brown-not-quite-blond hair while Sean sucked him. Enjoyed looking into greenish eyes and kissing his fair skin, scattered with pale freckles. Pale freckles because he’d spent all his life on this orbital habitat or down at the mine in the moon below. He’d never felt sunshine on his shoulders. No motel tonight. They arrived at the accommodation sector, and Alex paid the cab. Would Sean stay in it and go back to the party? Continue that party activist stuff he was up to for the representative? No. Sean got out, and the cab left. “Let me see you to your door,” Sean said. “I’m fine,” Alex insisted. Even though he wanted Sean to come to his door and through it, he had his pride, and Sean was denting it.