The Geography of Murder Page 5
I dropped him off with the promise to pick him up in two hours. I told him to dress fancy. I didn't tell him where we were going. Some things should be a surprise.
When I picked him up I was pleasantly surprised. He cleaned up just fine. A chocolate brown silk shirt that hugged his slender, but muscular, chest. No tie, but not everyone 56
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bothered. Tan linen pants cut to show off an impressive basket. I felt a corresponding swelling in my groin.
When I wheeled into the parking lot of Holdren's he looked on with childlike wonder. "I've never eaten here before. I've heard it's good."
"Trust me." I put the truck into park. "It's as good as you've heard, and better."
He followed me inside, smoothing his hands over his dress pants. We were shown a table by the window. The city had put up Christmas decorations and the palm trees outside the restaurant were covered in tiny white jewels. The host handed us menus and left, promising someone would return for our drink orders.
I'm not much of a fancy drinker. I ordered a beer and was relieved when Jason did the same.
He met my eyes over the menus. "What's good?"
"Steak," I said. "Or, if not that, there's always steak."
"I take it you're having steak."
"It's my second favorite kind of meat."
He ignored my innuendo, though I thought I saw his eyes darken. "Then I guess I'll have to have steak," he said.
The meal was as good or better than the first time I had eaten there. Maybe it was the company. The first time had been with my ex-wife when I told her I was leaving her, and why. I had figured she wouldn't cause a scene in such a public place. Shows you can't always trust your instincts.
To say she freaked out is the understatement of the year. I ended up wearing her Caesar salad and most of her linguine, which unfortunately had been crab. I smelled like fish the rest 57
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of the night because she also locked me out of our house. I had to wait until the next day to get clean clothes. When I drove by in the morning in hopes of catching her before work I found my things, including my classic movie collection piled on the front lawn. It had already been looted by the neighborhood brats. Most of it I never saw again.
To add insult to indignity, she waited until I was collecting my stuff and turned the sprinklers on. Never underestimate the fury of a woman thrown over for another man, or in my case, men.
She did her best to ruin me in the department, but this is the enlightened twenty-first century so no one would touch me. God knows the brass tried. But I weathered the storm and now they just think I'm their happy faggot with no more secrets. They don't tell me what turns them on in bed, so why do they need to know what flips my switch?
Jason and I didn't talk much over dinner. He was shy, something I like in my subs, so I didn't encourage much chatter. I kept trying to gauge how far he wanted me to go.
From what I could tell he was getting into the sub role in a big way. Made me wonder what was in his past to make him so eager to please. Was it just sex? Even if it was, we were going to have fun tonight. After I paid the check we made our way through the other after-dinner crowd that strolled under the phony cheer strung between spindly palms.
"Still buying that drink?" I asked after I unlocked the Toyota's doors. Wondering if he was going to back out of the coming game, or whether he wanted it as badly as I did.
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He nodded and without another word I put the truck in gear and headed west. The Vault's parking lot was packed.
The stuffy interior was wall-to-wall leather, rubber and denim.
The brass beat of something hard and grinding thrummed through my boots. Beside me, Jason listened intently. I touched his arm and pointed toward the far corner. We found a spot in a pool of shadow and I leaned down to speak in his ear.
"Get us a couple of Mexicalis."
He vanished into the crowd and returned minutes later with two ice-cold bottles of beer. I took mine with a brisk nod and upended it. When I caught him looking sideways at me I shouted. "Don't worry. You're driving."
"I am?"
I didn't answer him. If he wanted to play sub then he'd take the orders I gave without question. In the beginning there was always the game of seeing whether they were willing to go as far as they promised. Would they back out at the last minute? I thought this one might go the distance. I had two more beers and a couple of shooters of tequila while he sipped his single beer through to last call. When the lights flashed I took his arm and led him toward the front door, passing a trio of leather-clad Doms I knew from previous visits. They eyed Jason with appreciation. I made sure by my possessive hold on his arm that they knew he was taken property and no one did more than look. The older of the three, a gray-haired bear grinned, displaying a gold grill and grabbed his crotch as we passed.
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Then we were outside and I cleared my lungs of the stench of stale hops and poppers that always hung over those places. Jason seemed relieved to be outside, too. I tossed him my keys, he caught them underhanded and watched me approach.
"Where to?"
"My place. I'll give you directions."
"Goleta, huh?"
He remembered. I nodded.
"I've never been."
"Not much to look at. It's home."
Home was a tiny Spanish-tile stucco-sided bungalow tucked at the end of a dead end street on the north edge of town. My two nearest neighbors were shift workers at a nearby hospital and it was rare for them both to be home. It was quiet. Just the way I liked it.
I led Jason into the front room and pointed at a stool beside my butcher-block bar. I pulled a pair of Mexicalis out of the bar fridge and set one in front of him. He opened it and swung around to study my living room. It was small, like the rest of the house, small and sparse. I don't go for decorating much. I missed that part of the fabled gay gene. The focus of the room was a forty-two inch plasma TV and Blu-Ray system. Over the four years since the abrupt meltdown of my marriage, I had rebuilt and added to my movie collection. I mostly have old classics, a few hokey, old-style horror and sci-fi flicks like the original The Day the Earth Stood Still and Forbidden Planet. I stepped up behind him. He tensed briefly 60
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then relaxed again. I wanted to pull him into my arms and taste him. I resisted the urge. For now.
I waved my beer at the collection lining one whole wall.
"Want to watch something?"
Along with Hollywood classics I had a pretty hefty collection of porn. Mostly bondage stuff. Covers full of big leather men in chains and bonds. I saw him looking them over but he didn't pick anything. I swung the swivel stool around to face me and slipped my hand behind his neck. I squeezed. He shivered and leaned into my hand. I shifted to lessen the pressure in my groin.
"Is this a good idea, Alex?"
I liked the way my name sounded on his lips. But at the same time I didn't want him getting the idea he was calling the shots here. Not when he'd surrendered those rights to me by coming here.
"I know what I'm doing, Jason Aaron Zachary. Do your friends call you Zack?"
"Jason," he said. "My friends call me Jason."
I stroked the soft skin below his ear, lightly touching the Chinese tat I had noticed earlier. It was about the size of a silver dollar and looked like a figure standing beside a tree.
"What does this mean?"
"Fate," he murmured.
"Whose? Yours? What is your fate, Jason?"
"To be alone, I think."
"You're not alone." My fingers moved down to his collarbone and lingered over the grooves and bumps there.
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. A. Brown
"You're a cop," he said. "I just got out of jail. Is this a good idea?"
I pushed his legs open and moved between them. My hand moved down his arm, fingers caressing the curve of his biceps under the fine silk shirt he wore. The silk felt cool, his skin underneath was furnace hot. I smoothed the heel of my hand over his nipple until it poked into my hand and his breath came hard and fast.
"It's the best idea I've had all day."
I pressed closer, touching, my face less than an inch from his. His eyes dilated and I smelled his desire, felt his warm breath on my cheek.
"Take your shirt off."
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Jason
My hands moved of their own volition. I skimmed my raw silk shirt off and dropped it into a puddle on the carpeted floor. Outside a dog barked. Or maybe it was just my heart. I sat, hands resting lightly on my knees, never taking my eyes off his face. The pores of his fair skin, the light dusting of freckles across his nose, the incipient beard that was the lightest down on his cheeks and chin made him beautiful. He had full red lips, parted slightly and a strong jaw I longed to touch.
He had taken his glasses off. I waited. Waited for him to tell me what to do.
I didn't have to wait long. "Stand up."
I complied. He stepped back, studying me. I desperately hoped he would like what he saw. He must have. He raised both hands and slid stiff fingers through my tousled, newly washed hair. Then he moved over to the side of my head, fanning his fingers over my neck. He tugged at the gold studs in my ears.
"Those should be diamonds," he said. Fingertips skimmed down my back and circled around to the front. He pinched my right nipple and the gold ring in it between his thumb and forefinger, twisted it, then soothed the burn with a softer touch. I was pebble hard and wanting more. "Don't move," he said when I tried to step closer.
"You got anything else pierced?" he asked.
"No."
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"Too bad."
His fingers traced the outline of my tat, stroking my shivering skin. "What's that?" he murmured. "Some kind of fantasy? A phoenix? A gryphon?"
I closed my eyes, savoring his touch. "A bird of paradise."
He bent and touched his lips to my chest, his tongue sliding over the bird shape. "You mean it's real?"
My eyelids fluttered and I wound my shaking fingers through his short hair. "Very real. South New Guinea tropics..." I moaned as he moved up my body. I felt the tickle of his breath on my eyelashes. He explored the canvas of my face, touching everything until he arrived at my mouth. His first touch was feather light. Then he pressed his open mouth over mine and I gasped when his tongue invaded me.
He tasted of beer and garlic and something that was uniquely his own. He grew rougher, shoving his tongue deep into my mouth, pressing me back until my spine was against the bar. One hand skidded across my bare back, sliding around my ass and pulling me against him. He broke free and pressed trembling lips against my throat. Tugging at the waistband of my pants he said, "Get those off."
I skimmed pants and underwear off, tossing them in the same pile as my shirt and would have stepped back into his arms except he stayed me with a flat palm against my chest.
"Stand there," he ordered. "I want to look at you."
His gaze tracked down my shivering form, pausing to study my straining cock. His eyes widened when he saw my other tattoo. A slender, green vine circled my erection, ending in an unopened bud over my piss slit. The tattoo had cost me 64
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a small fortune and three hours of unforgettable pain. Until that moment I had always wondered if it had been a costly mistake, done at the spur of the moment. Seeing the look on Alex's face made it all worthwhile. Before I could even guess what he was going to do he knelt in front of me and took me in his mouth. The shock was incredible. I swayed on my feet and would have fallen if I hadn't had the bar behind me. His hot mouth enclosed me in wet warmth, his tongue swirled around my tattooed head and veined shaft. I moaned and rocked forward. With shaking hands I cupped the back of his head and urged him on with hoarse words. My balls tightened and I knew I was seconds from coming. Before it could happen he squeezed the base of my cock, stopping the ejaculation. He pulled away from me and stood in one smooth move. His face was flushed, his pupils black holes. His mouth glistened with saliva.
"I'm going to fuck you. Tell me you want me."
"Yes. Please."
He led me into a dim bedroom that had black-out curtains on the windows and walls painted some dark color I couldn't make out. He didn't turn on a light. A pale glow spilled in from the other room. It was enough to see his eyes glitter. He opened a drawer and plastic rustled. He handed me a condom and a small tube of lube.
"Get me ready."
I held the condom wrapper in my teeth while I unzipped his linen pants and slid them off. His legs were covered by fine hair that I knew would glint red in the light. He wore no 65
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underwear. Even in the dark room I could see the bobbing outline of his swollen cock pressed against his belly.
"Suck me."
I knelt and pressed my face into his crotch. I could smell him now, earthy and raw. I inhaled, then slipped my lips around him. He sighed and thrust his hips forward. After less than a minute of sucking him, he pulled me off and pushed me back onto my heels.
"Put it on."
I rolled the condom down over his fat cock and lubed him up.
"Get on your knees."
Shivering with anticipation now, I did as he ordered. He smoothed his hand over my back and covered me with his body. He stroked my flank, then probed my puckered hole.
When he inserted one finger into me I whined in need. A second finger followed the first and slid over the flesh of my prostate, sending electricity singing along my nerve endings.
I humped his hand, eyes closed at the building sensations.
His other hand gripped my hip, holding me steady. I trembled and rocked my hips into his touch. I moaned when he withdrew his fingers and with the latex covered tip of his cock, probed my wrinkled orifice, forcing it open while his large hands held me still. He entered me slowly, letting me adjust to the invasion. After a brief spasm of pain there came heat. I welcomed him with guttural sighs. He began to move, first in slow steady strokes that rapidly increased in tempo until he was pounding into me with a ferocity that left me mewling helplessly, unable to catch my breath. I braced 66
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myself against the floor and waited for the storm to end. It did with a grunt as he emptied himself into the condom. He roughly stroked me to orgasm moments later.
We stayed like that while our hearts settled back to a steady rhythm and we could breathe again, then he peeled away from me and stood, helping me to my feet. I swayed and he steadied me. He disposed of the condom and took me in his arms.
"You'll stay."
It wasn't really a request. That was okay, I wasn't about to argue. We slipped between the covers of the double bed and I drifted into the first deep sleep I'd had in weeks.
I awoke to darkness so total it was like I had lost the memory of light. I remembered a poem I had read once in the last year I spent in high school. It was by Lord Byron and even then everyone said he was a fruit. Maybe that's why I liked him so much. The line that always stayed with me was about darkness—'Morn came and went—and came, and brought no day.' A story of eternal darkness that never ended. I rolled over and collided with warm flesh.
It was so much like the horror of the grisly discovery of George Blunt that I squeaked and lunged to the edge of the bed. A hand snaked out and wrapped around my arm saving me from tumbling to the floor.
; "Jason. It's okay. You're safe."
I was hyperventilating and Spider pulled me into his arms, soothing me like I was a child terrified by a bad dream.
Maybe I was. I took a deep breath and pushed away from him.
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"Sorry, I didn't know where I was. I freaked..." I laughed shakily. "I swear, I'm not usually so jumpy."
"You got good reason." He helped me sit up. "Hold on, cover your eyes."
I did, and light filled the room. I blinked and looked around. The room was as much like a cave as you could make something above ground that had windows. There were no pictures or decorations anywhere. Instead one whole wall was dominated by a black sling and a rack with various whips, restraints and bondage tape. I'd never seen such a well-equipped Dom room outside of a club.
"Jesus," I whispered.
He grinned. "You like it?"
"Wasn't what I was expecting."
He slid his arm around my bare shoulder and nuzzled my neck. "What were you expecting?"
I shook my head. He kissed me hard enough to leave me gasping again. Then he swatted my thigh. "Regretfully there's no time to play. I have to get to work and so do you."
"I don't have a job anymore, remember."
"Yeah, you do. I talked to your boss and explained things to him. He's willing to give you another shot. You agree to stay out of dead guy's beds and he'll keep you on."
"Funny."
"Come on, I'll feed you and then I can drop you by your place." He stooped to catch another kiss. "We'll meet back up tonight."
Now that he had my whole day mapped out, I hurried to get ready. Quick shower and bacon and eggs—I scrambled 68
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the eggs, he got the bacon on, insisting that growing boys needed their protein to function. Afterward he dropped me at my apartment, where I found my ancient Honda sitting in front of the graffiti covered crap-hole I lived in. So obviously wherever I had gone the night Blunt died I hadn't taken my own car. The puzzle grew. I frowned.