Torn Between Two Lovers Read Online Free Page B

married men or men on the down low, as it was now called, partly because they were a challenge, but mainly because they usually didn’t act feminine. Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t have anything against brothers who showed off their feminine side. They just weren’t my style or my bedroom taste. I considered myself a man’s man, and that’s what I wanted in my bed—a man who everyone in the room, male and female, was lusting over.
    As I ran through my list of potential bed partners, I stopped at Randy Gonzales. Randy was a married army officer assigned to Fort Lee Army Base. He was a Dominican brother I’d met at Buffalo Wild Wings in Colonial Heights. Like most brothers on the DL, his wife didn’t have a clue about Randy’s bisexuality. Little did she know her soldier husband took the expression “don’t ask, don’t tell” to a whole new level. We’d hooked up only once, about a month ago, but I liked Randy. He was one cool guy with some pretty good dick. I thought about making him one of my sponsors, but the problem was he showed some signs of being obsessive. He’d been blowing up my phone non-stop for the past few weeks. Sure, I talked to him when he called, but I’d blown him off when he asked to hook up again. I’m sorry, but I don’t do clingy. Not since the last obsessive, clingy motherfucker I messed with ended up becoming a stalker. But we’ll talk about him a little later.
    Right now, it was time to call my Latin bed warmer. He was too eager for me to let him become a regular, but his bedroom skills were just what I needed to cheer me up for the night. I clicked the TALK button on my phone. Randy had made it clear I could call anytime, day or night, for a booty call, as long as I pretended to be his duty officer. So, he was about to get a call from Sergeant Rock—rock hard, that is.
    â€œHello.” The angry voice sounded familiar, but it wasn’t Randy. His voice was deep, with a hint of an accent, but he sounded young. I’m embarrassed to say I was a little jealous. Had Randy found some young boy toy to fuck with behind my back?
    I was about to hang up when the man on the other end said, “I know it’s you, Jerome. I can see your number on my caller ID. Why the fuck you playing games?”
    A knot formed in the pit of my stomach when I recognized the voice. Shit, I was surprised I hadn’t known it was him right away. How could I have forgotten? His name was Ron, and he was twenty years my junior. Things ended pretty badly between us, and we hadn’t spoken in a long time. I must have hit his number instead of Randy’s.
    â€œAhh, Ron, I didn’t mean to call your number, man. I was trying to get someone else.” I was surprised he hadn’t hung up already.
    Ron and I had broken it off, or rather he’d broken it off by trying to put his fist through my nose. Despite the fact that he’d given me the worst beating of my life, just hearing his voice brought back all the good times we’d had together. Other than what I had with Big Poppa, he was the closest I’d ever come to being in love. Unfortunately, it also reminded me of the last words he’d spoken after he punched me in the face: There is no us, Jerome. There never was. I’m just trying to get my life back.
    I heard a hissing sound. Finally, Ron spoke up. “Jerome, what the fuck do you want? Didn’t I tell you to leave me the hell alone? As if my life isn’t fucked up enough as it is, I got to get a call from you, the man who started all my troubles.”
    â€œHow you doing, Ron?” I know it was weak, but I didn’t know what else to say. I was trying to offer friendship, in hopes it would open the door again—eventually. I figured if he really didn’t want to talk, he’d hang up.
    â€œHow am I? I’m fucked up, that’s what I am, and it’s all because of you! You