Desperate Enemies 3 (22 page)

“Get away from me, don't come any closer,” said Danvers, though his voice seemed to be weakening, “no, oh God, you beast. . . look at you, so hairy and so big. . . yes, George, is it really you? Please, take me, please love me like you used to, oh how I've missed you, let me feel you. . . fill me with that big cock, take me, yes, my furry beast. . . aaahhh. . .”

He heard a short cry of surprise, or perhaps pain, and then the eager thrusts coming from Parker. Shaking his head, Rich took off down the corridor and emerged into the cold night. He shuddered as the wind hit him, but really from thinking about what he'd almost had to do. He looked back at the rain-soaked facade of the Bayside Hotel and remembered when he'd come to Wonderland, how filled with hope he'd been. For him, for Marc, for their future.

He wondered if such a dream still existed.

* * * *

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Oh, uh, sure.”

“What are you drinking?”

“I had a Cosmo,” he said. “You?”

“Scotch, neat.”

“Such a man,” he said.

“You like that?”

The man who drank the Cosmos liked that, liked what he saw, too. He'd been eyeing the man for the past ten minutes, ever since he'd taken up on the stool two down from him. He was dressed in a slick dark suit, white dress shirt, no tie. He'd seen a generous sprig of dark chest hair peeking out from the undone top button of the shirt, felt a stirring inside his heated loins. He wouldn't mind a little fun with this guy, it was a hotel after all, buy me a drink, pick me up, take me upstairs and fuck me. It had been a good thought and now the first step was complete, the drink.

“Here you go boys,” the bartender said with a wink before moving on.

“Cheers,” the man in the suit said, lifting his glass, a shiny Rolodex wrapped around a thick, hairy wrist. They clinked glasses, drank as their eyes continued to stare at one another. After another sip, they set their drinks down on the mahogany bar, the man reaching over to stroke the other's hand.

“You're very cute,” the man said.

“Thanks,” came his breathless reply. “I find you really sexy, though you'd look even better if we got you to relax a bit. Like that second button, you need to loosen up.”

“Long day on the job, it was enough to get that first one undone.”

“Allow me.”

And he reached forward, brazenly unbuttoning the second button on shirt; even more hair was exposed, thick, spring, dark. A generous coating.

“Nice.”

“Yeah, you like that?”

“Totally.”

“What's your name?”

“Marc.”

“I'm Rich.”

“Good, I like rich men,” Marc said.

The man named Rich, smiled, picked up his drink, knocked it back. “Come with me.”

Marc said nothing; he just stood up and followed the larger man out of the bar and through the lobby. He pressed for the elevator; Marc noticed it was the private elevator that went exclusively to the top floor, the penthouse suite. The door opened and they stepped in and then the doors closed and the men were all over each other, kissing and touching, buttons flying. Marc thrust his face into the dark whorls of that hairy chest, finding nipples beneath the thick fur. He murmured his desires, as Rich pressed his body against him.

The doors pinged open, directly into the bedroom of the penthouse. Both men, hard, hungry, and focused, stumbled out of the elevator, falling to the plush carpet. Clothes were quickly stripped away and soon they were naked, cocks hard, bodies heated. They kissed again and their hands continued to explore bodies, touching flesh, hair, balls that constricted and seemed ready to blow. Marc slid down a furry belly, tongue encircling the head of Rich's throbbing cock. He looked up at him, wary, uncertainty hitting him. It had been weeks since he'd tasted him, since he'd allowed this cock inside him, in his mouth and in his ass, he'd wondered if he would ever get to enjoy the touch of his lover again.

And then he plunged down on the cock, sucking it hard, fast. He licked the shaft, his tongue swirling around it, all the way down to the thick wiry pubes that grew like a forest. He tasted pre-come as he licked, licked more, deeper, poking at the eye, teasing it. As he continued to suck, he circled around to the mess of hairs that covered his hole; with a wet finger he pushed, once, twice, and then he entered the man's ass.

“Oh, oh, oh, shit. . . Marc, give me more, more. . .”

Marc slid a second finger in, a third, and he began to push, to fuck, all while sucking that big hot cock. Just then he felt it grew hotter, bigger, he knew Rich was close to bursting. He intensified his sucking and gave one last thrust of his fingers into that furry ass and that's when Rich blew, gobs of come shooting into his mouth. He slurped on each drop, drinking him in, and the taste was like something he'd never had before, a burst of energy that fueled him to new heights. He felt Rich's hand snake around to his cock, pump it once, twice and that was all it took, Marc too shot his load, coating Rich hairy forearm with his thick goo.

Waiting to catch their breath, Rich helped Marc up from the floor, then embraced him. Marc felt his sexy, hairy lover's body press against him, his cock hardening quickly. Rich's did too, that big piece pressing against his leg.

“Wow, that was great,” Rich said.

“You just had to touch me and I came.”

“Come to bed with me, yes?”

“Yes.”

It was the first time for them since the shooting, the first time either had allowed the other to touch him. So much had happened, but they knew what was important. They were, the two of them, and it had taken almost fucking Danvers Converse for Rich to realize that the two of them together were better than either of them without. He'd called Marc from the Bayside, after turning back from the cold, asked him to meet him here. And Marc had agreed and they had acted out their own little play, not unlike when they'd first arrived in Wonderland, and now here they were together, naked, entwined, climbing onto the bed, ready to make love for the first time again.

Marc was on his back, Rich hovering above him. He brushed at the thick mat of hair on Rich's chest, fingered the bald spot on his upper chest where he'd taken the bullet. How he loved how this man felt atop him, it wasn't power, it was love and desire, and Marc beneath him was open to all he had to give. That cock, he knew that was a lot to take, and he couldn't wait to feel those thick inches fill him. Just then a tear slid from his eye.

“It's okay, Marc, we're together.”

“Yes.”

“What I drove you to, it woke me up. Seeing you with Parker. . . I knew then and there that I never wanted to lose you, I wanted you back. So I had to do everything in my power to get us back to our dream. Saunders, Danvers, even Troy and Parker and Rose, they all had to help and to me it didn't matter which of them got hurt, we'd all been hurt enough by them. All that mattered to me was you. You are my life, Marc Anderson.”

“And you are my life, Rich North,” Marc said.

Silence settled between them. There was only other thing left to do.

“Make love to me, Rich.”

And Rich obliged, sliding his thick cock inside him, and oh how perfect it felt.

He thrust, and he thrust again, Marc taking it all in, wrapping his legs around his ass to ensure that cock didn't slip out. With each push, each urgent plow, Marc cried out, begging for more, digging his nails into Rich's back, burying his face in the thick whorls of his chest. This was just what he wanted, his hairy, big-dicked lover in his bed and in his and most especially in his heart.

“Harder, baby, harder,” Marc cried.

And Rich did as asked, his cock's thrust propulsive, consuming.

They climax was shattering, Rich bucking with each shot, Marc's eyes fluttering as he felt each drop sizzle within him. And even as Rich's thrusts ceased, both knew the night was only beginning.

They mad love all night and into the morning, both of them heady from the sex, high in sky in their penthouse suite. Neither of them heard the screaming sirens of the ambulance in the middle of the night; at that point, Marc was riding his lover, bouncing on the bed and taking every inch that pushed its way inside him and his hard cock was shooting its load onto the furry, dark mat of his chest and both men's cries were bouncing off the walls.

It was only later, after they had celebrated life, that they learned who was dead.

* * * *

Sunshine beamed down on this lustrous place called Wonderland, wind whipping off the ocean and blowing across the rocky bluff known as Eldon Court. There, five Victorian mansions stood proud against the landscape, four of them occupied by loving partners who shared so much in common, their zest for life and their love for each other, and their unabashed love of men. As for the other house, for weeks the For Sale sign had been posted, and just two days ago LeeAnn had slipped the SOLD sign atop it.

As Marc Anderson made his way out on to the porch on their perfect Autumn day, a cup of coffee in his hands, he thought about who might have bought the house at Number Three Eldon Court. Paolo had agreed to sell it after all, the memories of Aaron too much to handle, especially since he had a new man in his life. Paolo Bautista and Troy Saunders had moved into Number Two, which was currently undergoing an extensive makeover, both house and lawn. After the police had discovered the skeletal remains of Elissa Saunders underneath the porch, Number Two had been a crime scene for days.

But that was weeks ago now.

Edgar had finished his book and it was headed toward publication and Jack was back at his yoga studio, almost like nothing had changed for the two longest-tenured residents of Eldon Court. They were an example to all of them, the modern day Drew and Aidan.

Dane and Sawyer had sent out their wedding invitations; they would be married in five days time down on the beach, all of their friends at their side. Paolo would be Dane's best man, Troy would be Sawyer's. That left Marc and Rich over at Number Five, and much had happened to them since the night they'd reunited at the Bayside Hotel. That next morning, they awakened to discover that Danvers Converse had been found dead inside his office. The gossip mill had it that Danvers had been found hanging, naked, and while autoeroticism couldn't be ruled out based on the videos that were found on his screens, his death was ultimately ruled a suicide. A confession to the murder of Elissa Saunders found on his desk, along with the location of her body. There had been no word from Parker St. John since that night. It was like he vanished into thin air.

“My son has not called me,” Rose told the authorities, though with an actress of her quality, she could have been lying through her teeth.

Just as Marc was reliving these past few weeks, Rich strode out on to the porch. He was dressed in a business suit, tie perfectly knotted. It was a Monday morning, time to go the bank. He leaned down and kissed Marc.

“Have a good day painting,” he said.

“I will, you have a good day at the bank.”

“Dinner at seven? How about chicken?”

“Listen to us, sounding like an old married couple,” Marc said.

“So, what do you want to do?”

“Celebrate,” Marc said, “it's a month since we found our way back to each other.”

“Champagne, caviar, and the penthouse suite at the Bayside?”

“Eight o'clock,” Marc said, “we'll dine, we'll indulge, and then you'll fuck me all night.”

“Such a romantic,” Rich said. “You know I can be late for work. . .”

“Tonight, I said, you horny beast,” Marc said with a laugh.

Another kiss and then Rich was off, his car soon disappearing around the bend of Eldon Court. Marc stood up, ready to get to work himself. Yet the sound of a car caught his attention and he watched as a blue SUV rolled down Eldon Court before pulling to a stop in the driveway of Number Three.

“Huh, must be the new neighbors,” he said, curious to get his first look at them.

From the inside of the car emerged a man and a woman from the front seat, an attractive couple he thought, followed by two young children from the back. The latter two wasted no time in running around on their new front lawn, screaming happily. They rolled on the grass with infectious joy, their sound carrying to the point where all the neighbors emerged. Edgar and Jack, Paolo and Troy, Dane and Sawyer, and the juxtaposed image of the family of four alongside these gay couples suddenly had Marc laughing.

Guess evolution was catching up to Eldon Court.

The assimilation had begun and Wonderland was again filled with wonder.

About to go back inside, Marc decided it would be neighborly to say hello. As he headed off the porch, the sun glinted off a piece of metal on his lawn. He made his way to it, picked it up with sudden curiosity. It was hard and it gleamed in the sunshine.

“Oh my God,” Marc said aloud, “I think that's gold.”