Old Wounds, New Love Ch. 01

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Rich and powerful - Afton always gets his way.
7.2k words
4.6
27.4k
46

Part 1 of the 5 part series

Updated 10/21/2022
Created 07/01/2013
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I finally broke down and wrote a story to post. I hope you enjoy it, for I had fun writing about Afton and his fast seduction of his younger, innocent and naïve young lover. Please leave a comment if you like it and let me know what you thought. Remember, be kind – it's my first story!

CrimsonWeb

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Afton Finemoore, a powerful thirty something businessman, entered the coffee shop at precisely 10:00am, the same time he always did on the days he was in the city. It was habit whenever he was here on business and he rarely failed on breaking it. But today something was different when he pushed through the double glass door. The patrons were always the same, faces he'd stared at day in and day out, but today there was a new blond man that stood at the counter talking with the cashier. He captured Afton's attention with his cowboy looking demeanor and muscular jock-like physique. This guy was not Afton's type, but something had caught his interest.

Afton paused, ignoring a few greetings until he finally shook off his attraction and said his hello's. Greta, a long time friend raised an eyebrow at his distraction and smoothly slide to his side with an air of amusement. "You okay?"

He shook his head with a sly smile and turned to his friend, "Of course. What are you doing here?"

She laughed, smoothing out her immaculate blonde hair. "I wanted to talk to you and you're ignoring my calls and texts." She looked back at the cute blond guy at the counter and sighed. "I didn't think you went for blonds?"

Afton shrugged, "I am not ignoring you, Greta. I am busy. I've got the fundraiser at my house tomorrow and I have just had other priorities. What is so important that you had to stalk me here?" He adored Greta, but sometimes her theatrics shattered his nerves.

"Carmen is beside herself that you haven't invited her to the fundraiser. I wanted to beg you to retract your stance that she's never allowed inside your house again." She inched closer, "Would you? For me?"

Afton groaned, looking away. He truly disliked Carmen. He'd banned her from his house after his last party, when he'd found her naked in his bed once all the other guests had departed. She'd snuck upstairs into his private domain and remained hidden. All because she assumed he wanted to have sex with her, when in actuality, he'd wanted the man she'd come with, her cousin or something like that. After a moment he shook his head, "No, not ever for you, Greta. I love you, but Carmen is a menace."

Greta pouted but knew she wouldn't get anywhere if she kept up her theatrics. Afton hadn't become a wealthy tycoon by being soft. She patted the lapel of his Armani black suit, smoothing out the edge so it laid flat, sighing loudly. She had a selfish need to touch his chest, knowing that just beneath the fabric was a well formed chiseled body. Understanding who and what Afton was, she accepted this was the closest she would ever come to feeling his hard body beneath her fingers.

Smiling up into his hard smooth face, Greta submitted. He looked GQ handsome today; his black hair recently trimmed short which only accentuated his green eyes to dominate his face. He watched her with those intimidating orbs, waiting to see if she'd try again, so she surprised him by stepping away.

"Thank you for not pushing this, Greta," he finally said, tucking her under his arm and steering her towards the ordering counter. While they walked, he let out a soft whistle in appreciation. "You look fantastic today, what's the occasion?"

She beamed, looking down at her fashion designer dress that was made from the finest of fabrics. The blush pink color perfectly complimented her blonde hair and made her blue eyes sparkle. The garment hugged her delicate frame and would have made any other man drool. "I have a date," she replied sheepishly.

"Oh?" He asked, once more raising his brow in question. "Pray tell, who is this man who's finally broken through your aversion to relationships?"

She laughed, "I know, but I couldn't avoid it. Daddy said I'd be cut off if I didn't marry soon and give him heirs to all his money. I couldn't risk that. In reality, I have no choice. He's rich, older and already had a few kids of his own. Daddy is strongly encouraging me to marry him whether I like him or not. I am thirty two this year and according to him, 'the clock is ticking'. "

"Well, good luck." At the counter, Afton stumbled when the blond man looked up apologetically with the most intense hazel eyes and then stepped out of the way. Being this close to him took Afton's breath away and he was unable to formulate his order for two beats of his heavily thudding heart. He also swore that his cheeks burned hot with a blush at the meeting this younger man's gaze.

Afton was thirty-three, rich, powerful and arrogant. He was never ruffled by another human being. But this younger man succeeded to do the unthinkable. There was something about him that affected Afton, though, and he wasn't sure why. He appeared to be in his early to mid twenties with wavy blond hair and striking hazel eyes – he was spectacular. He jeans were old, his t-shirt plain white straining against defined muscles and he had on scuffed cowboy boots that had seen better days. What drew Afton was the innocence that wafted off him as if it were tangible. This man looked as if he just stepped off the bus from the country and now found himself in the middle of this big, sprawling city.

The cashier tucked her black hair behind her ear trying to hide her smile as she looked away from this blond man to Afton. "What can I get you, the usual?"

"Good morning, Mary. Yes, please. Make sure they hold the foam this time, it ruins the latte."

"Of course, Sir."

Seeing her punch in her order into the machine, Afton grew curious. He looked up to find the blond man watching him intensely with a slight blush. Afton smiled. "I am Afton Finemoore, you are?"

The man flinched from being spoken to and stammered while answering, " E-ethan Watkins." Ethan could tell this man was dangerously sensual and powerful and it awoke something primal in him that he thought he had buried long ago. It was obvious for everyone practically bowed to him as he entered. As much as he wanted to ignore the feeling, Ethan realized he was aroused and a little intimidated. His heart rammed in his chest and his shame exploded. He wasn't gay. Why would he be having these thoughts about a gorgeous model looking man? Shit. He did it again. He wasn't gay. He wasn't.

"Watkins. Hmm, I don't think I am familiar with your sirname. Is your family new to the city?" Afton couldn't help but lean closer to him.

Ethan noticed and stepped back. "Just me. My parents are still on the dairy farm in Illinois. I came here to stay with my girlfriend, Mary," he motioned to the cashier, "for a few months. She's going to school here in New York and invited me to come experience this for myself."

Afton beamed, "Excellent idea. I love this city." An idea blossomed in his head and he lowered his voice, "Listen, I am hosting a fundraiser tomorrow night at my Manson. Would you and Mary both like to attend and I can show you a different side to city living?"

Mary practically squealed while Greta rolled her eyes in annoyance. Ethan just watched him while narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "You don't know me and yet you're inviting both me and Mary to your house?"

"Ethan, I invite all sorts of people to my house on a regular basis. It's good for the charity I am raising money for, but don't worry, I won't expect anything from either of you. Here," he reached into his jacket pocket to remove an invitation. "Present this at the gate and you'll be directed to the party. I do hope to see both of you tomorrow."

Mary handed him his latte with a wide grin. "I'll drag him there myself. Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Finemoore."

"Excellent. I'll see you both tomorrow then." He made sure not to look at Ethan again or he was afraid he would embarrass himself by grinning childishly.

Greta huffed as they turned away and she leaned in close when they exited the building. "You'll invite two strangers but not Carmen? What has gotten into you? It's the blond man isn't it?"

"I am not sure to what you're referring. And Carmen is banned because she refuses to accept I am gay."

"Oh," Greta shrugged, "she has, but she thinks she can change you."

"Unlikely."

"I know, but she thinks you can be persuaded."

Outside there was a long black limousine sitting in the road with a neatly dressed driver in black standing beside the open door, waiting for Afton to emerge. "Do you need a ride somewhere?"

"No, thank you. I am just heading out to a café round the corner to meet up with some friends before my date. I will see you tomorrow and I promise," she rose up to kiss his cheek, "I won't ask about Carmen again."

He laughed at her words, stepping away and slipping into the limousine smoothly, disappearing behind mirrored glass and metal. Seconds later, the driver entered, putting the vehicle into drive and merging out into traffic.

Inside the coffee house, Ethan watched cautiously as the dark haired man departed. He'd felt a spark of something akin to attraction and he was horrified. He hadn't had thoughts of men in years and he'd thought he moved past that confusing phase. But that man...he dragged up feelings so intense Ethan thought he would pass out. He had tried hard not to swing that way and had consciously steered his life down the path of standard relationships mostly from the reaction he'd receive from his parents. That was why he was here after all, but meeting Afton sent his mind spinning and threw all his attempts to remain straight into turmoil. Maybe it was being in a strange new city and being enamored with that man's wealth and sensuality. He wasn't sure, but he wouldn't be going to his house tomorrow, no matter how badly Mary begged.

****

Afton stood on the top step of the grand staircase in the foyer of his huge Manson on the outskirts of town. The fundraiser for a children's hospital was soon to begin and the event planner had outdone herself this time. The front part of the house was draped in pink and blue, the hospital colors with flowers, banners and garlands of fragrant flowers. Soon he would descend these very stairs and greet his guests, one at a time, shaking hands and kissing cheeks. These were the more influential people on his list and needed them to open their checkbooks tonight for the hospital needed a new wing supporting radical cancer treatments.

He knew they wouldn't let him down. Who would deny the Great Mr. Finemoore? Not many.

Greta waltzed through the door just then, arrogantly tossing her fur coat to the servant standing near the door. "Afton, the drive looks amazing! Wherever did you get so many lights? It looks like a wonderland out there!"

Pleased with himself, Afton grinned. "You should see the garden. I think I spent more money out there."

She clapped with glee, "I do love your parties!"

"Go, I'll join you shortly. Some of the others are already inside." He motioned towards the parlor where voices could be heard in conversation.

"Don't take too long," she winked just before she seductively strutted into the room making a grand entrance.

He ran his hands down his jet black suit, noting that this one fit his body perfectly. It would show off his narrow waist and tight ass and he hoped Ethan would come. All day he'd fretted over what to wear wanting to impress upon the country man. Knowing he couldn't stand on the stairs all night, Afton stepped down, accepting that he was acting like a young boy with a crush. He needed to get into this party and start to encourage the money to flow.

He moved into the room, shook the hands he knew he would and kissed the cheeks he expected to flatter. When the clock chimed 8 O'clock, he started to have doubts that Ethan would appear and he had to hide his disappointment. It was hard to do, considering his demeanor required him to be happy and friendly. Right now, he wanted to escape so he could smash something.

Just as he was about to do that exact sentiment, Mary entered, dragging a glowering and nervous Ethan behind her. He looked around the room with awe and finally his gaze locked with Afton's and his cheek twitched.

Afton swallowed once, feeling his body respond with a painful erection at seeing Ethan again. He looked even more charming now that he'd cleaned himself up with an evening coat and a haircut. Afton wondered what he had underneath that jacket and hoped he'd soon find out.

"Mary, Ethan, welcome to my home," he announced, approaching with both hands extended.

Ethan swallowed. Afton Finemoore was a sensual predator, prowling towards them like a panther. He exuded sexuality and his gaze was locked with Ethan after he'd given Mary a once over. She was dressed in a sleek black cocktail dress that showed an amble about of cleavage. She's pulled her long black hair into a ponytail, which was simple yet Ethan liked the look. Afton wasn't impressed. His eyes returned to Ethan with a hungry smile. And that made Ethan's ego inflate, but it shouldn't have. He had come to New York to win Mary over for heaven's sake. He wasn't gay!

Yet as Afton walked closer, he couldn't deny that his body had a different mind of its own. Arousal dilated his pupils and his cock swelled, filling his trousers to an uncomfortable state. Adjusting himself, Ethan had to shift the bulge to the side or he'd be discovered.

"Mr. Finemoore! You have an amazing house!" Mary gushed. "I can't thank you enough for the invitation. I never thought I'd ever be able to attend one of these events."

Afton bowed, "You are welcome. Come, let me get you a drink. Ethan, what do you prefer?" As he spoke he collected a Champaign flute off a nearby server's tray and handed it to Mary. It had a raspberry floating in the slightly pink bubbles.

Ethan cleared his throat, running a finger under his suddenly tight collar. "I don't exactly know. I don't drink that often."

"Well, come this way, I shall introduce you to the finer choices in life." Afton indicated the bar in the back of the room where fully stocked shelves held every type of alcohol. It looked like a bar downtown. The bartender looked surprised when Afton stepped behind and put two short glasses on the counter himself, filling them with ice. "I suggest whisky, and not the cheap brands you'll find in common stores. This is an aged Irish Whiskey that I can only import from Dublin."

As he poured, Ethan tried to breathe. Afton's hands ended in long fingers that gripped first the glass and then the whiskey body with such care, he almost seemed to be stroking the bottle. He suddenly imagined what it would feel like to have those fingers stroke him and Ethan flinched. Now where did that thought come from? I am NOT gay he repeated. He finally convinced himself he was just overwhelmed with sensation from the house, decorations and the intimidating man holding out a drink. Afton was again watching Ethan with a predatory stare that send a thrill down Ethan's spine.

"Try it," Afton urged. "This is my favorite. I added a splash of lemon to enhance the flavor." As he waited for Ethan to take his first sip, Afton bit his lower lip in anticipation.

Ethan choked on the liquid as it burned its way down his throat. He was about to decline the drink when a warmth settled in his stomach that spread throughout his entire body. The bitter aftertaste of the whiskey faded leaving behind an essence making him want more. Looking at the glass, he laughed. "That has some kick."

"Yes, it does. You get used to it after a few sips. Do me a favor and finish this entire drink before you judge whether you like Irish whiskey or not. Promise?"

Ethan smiled, tipping his drink at his host. "Promise."

"Now, if you'll excuse me for a moment, I have more fundraising to complete. I shall find you shortly. Please, enjoy the garden and the deck out back. There is also food in the courtyard to your right." He bowed by dipping his upper body elegantly, and strode from the room on long lean legs. He made sure he exited this door, forcing Ethan to stare at his well shaped ass as he exited the room.

Mary watched him shocked. "You don't drink, Ethan. What are you doing?"

"Having a little fun. You dragged me here, remember? I didn't want to come."

She frowned, looking between Ethan and the glass before she snorted and turned away towards the courtyard where the food was laid out.

Ethan was left to his own devices and strolled around the main room, stopping to look at photographs set out on shelves and tables. He felt Afton's eyes on him the entire time, and confirmed that feeling when he looked up to find the European looking man watching him from across the crowded room. The look was possessive. Ethan swallowed from the emotion Afton's look generated. Ethan had never felt hunted before but right now he did and he was ashamed to admit he liked it. It had been years since he had felt any attraction to a man and right now, Afton dominated his thoughts. He needed to clear his head. He wasn't gay, which is reminded himself for the fiftieth time tonight.

Taking another swallow of the whiskey he tried to ignore him and looked at the pictures. All were of Afton Finemoore and all made him look incredible. He was young, vibrant and extremely successful. It became apparent he'd built his own empire when Ethan came across some photos taken when Afton was about ten and clearly dirt poor. He sat on the steps of a dilapidated house in a sad neighborhood. He wore a ripped shirt and shoes with holes in the toes. That boy obviously grew up and decided he wanted more out of life than a day to day struggle. Something Ethan understood very well. It had taken one year of wages to earn just to buy a bus ticket to New York and his aunt helped pay for the rest. Mary was helping out with little things here and there, but Ethan wouldn't take hand outs. He would get a job soon to help out and pay his aunt back. He didn't want to be a free loader.

"I was eleven in that picture." A strong male voice accented with an Irish brogue spoke over Ethan's shoulder, causing him to start. His accent only came out when he was nervous our emotional. Otherwise he masked his brogue and tried to bury the past.

Ethan turned his face and nodded, finding Afton a foot away and towering over his shoulder. He was surprised to hear the hint of an Irish accent for Afton hid his heritage well. Ethan also hadn't realized how tall he was until he needed to look up into his face. He must be at least six three.

"When my parents migrated here from Ireland, we lived in a horrid part of town and I hated every minute of it. Shortly after this picture was taken, I vowed I would find a way to get out and forget where it was I came from." He moved closer to Ethan and reached around him to grab the picture frame. His arm brushed against Ethan's torso and Afton didn't miss the aroused shiver in response.

"It appears you've done exactly what you intended. Tell me, what is it that you do?" Ethan asked trying to break the spell Afton seemed to be casting.

"Real estate. Corporate to be exact. I buy old buildings and give them a new life, and then I sell them for outrageous prices. I've made a killing," he waved his hand, "as you can see. Would you like a tour?"

Ethan nodded. He couldn't do anything else as he got lost in the depths of Afton's green eyes. They even had small gold specks in the irises and that drew Ethan in deeper. All thoughts of Mary fled and suddenly she was forgotten.

"In through these doors is my private study. I don't let my guests in here, so if you could shut the door behind you?" Afton asked in a quiet voice that didn't have any hint of his previous brogue. He then led the way to a massive mahogany door off to their right. Inside, the room was dimly lit by a desk lamp but other than that soft glow, the only light came from the thousands of twinkling lights from the garden that could be seen through the balcony doors.