“No, not at all.” Mitchell closed and secured the French doors and stood quietly until he heard the shower start. Then he went into the kitchen to see what he could pull together for dinner.
After they’d eaten, Toby picked up their plates and headed to the kitchen. “You better shower too. We don’t have a lot of time until we have to be over at your place. I’ll clean up in here.”
“Thanks,” Mitchell said as he rose from his chair and headed to the bathroom.
As he adjusted the showerhead spray, Mitchell placed his hands on the shower wall, and bowed his head and prayed.
John Brown had been perplexed for the last couple of days, and he didn’t like it. He knew something was going on, but he didn’t know what it was, exactly. He watched from across the street as Toby Bailey let the man and woman out of the door to the spa, and then a minute or two later, came back out with the other man – the cop he’d watched getting naked on the terrace – and walked across the street.
John Brown hunkered down in his vehicle, and a few hours later he saw them come down the stairs and get into the cop’s car. He rolled up his window and started his engine.
As the driver pulled away from the curb, John Brown followed them, always remaining a couple of car lengths behind. When the car turned into a small subdivision, John Brown drove on past and then made a U-turn at the next intersection. He drove back and turned into the same subdivision, driving slowly down the streets until he spotted the car pulled up in front of a small duplex. He found a place to park on the side of the street, close enough to watch the house. He waived at a passing patrol car as it passed, and rolled down his window and turned off the engine. A short time later, he saw another car pull into the driveway and park behind the car he’d followed. He sat up straighter in his seat as he recognized the man walking up to the front door. “Someone’s being a naughty boy tonight.” He settled back down to wait.
At seven o’clock that night, Toby opened the door of Mitchell’s house and faced Councilman Sutton Dameron. “Hello,” he said as he opened the door. “I’m Bailey, and I’ve been expecting you.”
Dameron gave him a smile in return. “Hi, I’m Chris. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Come on back, Chris,” Toby said as he shut the front door and led the way to the back. “But you don’t have to use that name – I know who you are. You’re very recognizable these days and have made quite a name for yourself. I’ve wanted to meet you for some time now.”
Dameron tensed, but then slowly relaxed when he saw the engaging, open smile Toby threw over his shoulder. “I guess it was pretty foolish to use a fake name.” Dameron followed Toby into the back bedroom. “I guess you can call me Sutton.”
“I’d like that, Sutton,” Toby said as he closed the door. “Why don’t you get out of your clothes so we can start getting to know one another?”
“Sounds good to me.” Sutton handed Toby a few bills. “Here, this is for you.”
Toby took the bills and laid them on the dresser while Sutton quickly removed his clothes and folded them neatly. Toby picked up a towel and a bottle of oil as Dameron put the tidy stack of clothing on the dresser.
“I hope you don’t mind if I use oil,” Toby said, holding the bottle out for approval. “I got a lot of sun today and my skin’s really dry. In fact, I was wondering if you would mind rubbing some onto my back…and anywhere else you think needs it.”
“I’d love to do that for you, Bailey. There’s nothing like a little one-on-one personal contact to get to know someone.” Dameron took the bottle from him. “You’ll need to get undressed first, though. I can’t wait to see what’s hiding underneath those shorts.”
Toby quickly pulled his shirt over his head to hide his expression, and then slowly unfastened his shorts. He folded both neatly, having noticed that Sutton appeared to like things neat and tidy. He turned his back slightly and then pulled down his briefs, letting them fall to his feet. He stepped out of them, and then bent down and picked them up. He stretched, taking time to displaying his best assets for the Councilman’s appreciation. He placed the briefs on top of the other clothes and turned around to discover Dameron was stroking himself as he watched. Toby could see the beginnings of his arousal. “Average all the way.” he observed. “Or maybe slightly smaller than average. Fairly good body – even though he’s short.”
“You did get some sun today,” Dameron observed, as he picked up the bottle of oil. “Why don’t you lay down on the table and I’ll start rubbing some of this in. I’ll make sure to get every crook and cranny.”
Hiding his revulsion at the thought of Dameron touching him, Toby climbed onto the table and lay face down. He curled his hands around the edge and searched with one finger until he felt the edge of the panic device. He felt Dameron climb on top and position himself between his legs. Soon, the Councilman laid his oily palms on Toby’s back and began to rub the oil into his skin. “How does that feel, Bailey?”
Toby gave a little moan, hoping it didn’t sound too contrived. “It feels great.” He sensuously shifted his hips a few times for emphasis. “You have great hands.”
After that vote of approval, Dameron applied himself with more industry, working his way over every inch of Toby’s back and shoulders. When he had reached the lower part of the back, Dameron said “It looks like you got sun on every part of your body. I’ll just continue on down.” When Toby didn’t respond, the Councilman took silence as permission and worked the oil into Toby’s cheeks and thighs, lingering much longer than necessary. “I think you should turn over now. It’s time give the front of your body some attention.”
Toby rolled onto his back with his hands slightly above his head, well within reach of the button. He gave the man what he hoped was a sexy, lazy grin and closed his eyes as Dameron dribbled oil onto his chest. “You’re really good at this. Have you done this before?”
“A few times. There was another masseur who taught me a few things.”
“Oh,” Toby forced himself to ask calmly. “Was he a local guy?”
Dameron didn’t answer for a moment. “Yes, he was,” he finally replied in a guarded voice.
Toby didn’t want him spooked. “Well you certainly learned how to use your hands.” He arched his back until his ribs pressed firmly against Dameron’s palms. He winced as the man’s hands ran across his bruise.
“Wow! It looks like you have a pretty good bruise started. How did you get that?”
“Ummm…I fell against something yesterday. It’s not too bad, just a little sore. You could move your hands…a little lower, though.”
Dameron removed his hands, and Toby watched through half-lidded eyes as the Councilman rubbed oil onto his own erect member. The man moaned then placed his hands on Toby’s abdomen and began to work downward. After a few minutes of undivided attention to parts of interest, Dameron sighed disappointedly. “Don’t you like that? I don’t seem to be getting much reaction from you down here.”
“It feels great, Sutton,” Toby assured him. “Maybe I’m just a little nervous. I’ve never done anything like this with someone famous.”
“I’m not all that famous,” Sutton Dameron said with false modesty. “I think I know what’ll do the trick. Sit up for me and move your legs off the table.”
Toby sat up and forced himself to put his legs over the edge of the table. “Like this?”
“Yes, but spread your legs wider and lean back and relax. You’re going to really enjoy this.”
Toby put his arms behind him and gripped the edge of the table, feeling for the panic button. He adjusted his arms and hands until his fingers found what he was searching for. Relieved, he leaned back, supporting himself with his arms. He watched as Dameron gave himself another few slow strokes and then dropped to his knees. Toby closed his eyes and tried not to think about what was happening as the man fondled him and placed his mouth over his limp flesh. After a few minutes of the Councilman’s
oral attentions, Toby felt himself stir, despite his best efforts. He sat up and placed his hand on Dameron head, making contact with the bare patch of skin Dameron tried so hard to hide. “I think you’re getting results, Sutton, but stop for a minute. I have something in mind for you.”
The man kneeling before him continued to work his mouth as he pumped himself furiously.
“Please stop, Sutton,” Toby pleaded. “I really do have something special planned, just for you. You won’t believe what I’m going to do to you next.” When Dameron reluctantly pulled his mouth away with a wet drooling smack and looked up with eager eyes, Toby sighed in relief at his liberation. “You’re going to have to see it to believe it. Here,” Toby got down from the table. “Trade places with me.”
Dameron stood up and sat on the edge of the table. Toby wiped off the excess oil and saliva off while Dameron continued to work himself, and went to the desk, where he picked up the photograph he’d left there earlier. He walked over to the Councilman and handed him the paper.
Dameron eased off his activity and took it from Toby’s hand. As he unfolded the paper with one hand, his other hand abruptly stopped its busy work between his legs. “What…?” he asked as he removed himself from the table.
“It’s a little souvenir from one of your previous encounters,” Toby told him coldly as he pulled on his shorts. “A friend left it for me. I think you knew him. His name was Geri Guzman.”
“You little faggot cocksucker!” Dameron shouted at him.
“Call me what you want, but I wasn’t the one on my knees just now, Councilman.” Dameron narrowed his eyes at him, and Toby could see his anger and suspicion. “I think the little arrangement you had with Geri will suit me just fine. It’d be a shame if that picture- and the others I have – were made public. I’m sure the voters – and your financial supporters – would find them very disappointing, not to mention the reaction they’d get from the press.”
Toby saw something frightening flash in Dameron’s eyes a split second before the man’s fist headed toward him. Toby caught his wrist with one hand and squeezed tightly – just as Lamont had done to him the night before. “I wouldn’t try that again. If you do, I’d to have to make those photos public before we come to an arrangement.”
“What do you want?”
Toby slowly released his wrist. “Exactly the same as Geri.” Toby forced himself not to step back from the look on the enraged man’s face.
“I’ll give you exactly what I gave him,” Sutton Dameron agreed coldly, thrusting the paper back at Toby.
“You can keep that copy, Councilman. I have more.” Toby walked to the dresser and picked up the man’s stack of neatly folded clothes. “It’s time for you to get dressed. We’re done here, but I expect to hear from you soon.”
“It will take me a day or two to make arrangements.” Dameron hurriedly pulled on his clothing. “I don’t have that kind of cash.”
“You have until Wednesday. If we haven’t worked things out by then, well…” Toby indicated the paper Dameron held tightly in one hand, “I’m afraid I’ll have to let everyone in on your dirty little secret.” After Toby escorted the angry Councilman to the front door and watched him drive away, he headed back to the bedroom.
Mitchell and Reightman joined him shortly. “I think we just netted our fish.”
“I think so.” Toby pulled on his t-shirt and put on his shoes. “I just hope we can haul him into the boat.” He picked up the oily towel and wiped down the bottle. “I thought that he was going to be worse than Lamont. He’s very angry and looked like he wanted to kill me.”
“Angry men make mistakes,” Mitchell said.
“And they can be very dangerous. We’re going to have to be very careful.”
“We will be, Detective Reightman. You can count on it.” Mitchell took the towel from Toby’s hands and placed it in the trash bag he held.
“I am counting on it,” Reightman said as she watched the two men walk out the door.
John Brown waited in his car until he saw everyone leave. “Isn’t this interesting?” He watched the woman walk to her own car a few houses down and waited until she drove away. Then started his own vehicle and drove out of the subdivision.
Christina Dameron heard the front door open and shut as her husband returned home for the night. “How did your campaign meeting go, Sutton?”
He stalked past her into the study, almost slamming the door to the room. Wondering what was wrong, Christina got up from the couch and moved closer to the closed door. A few minute later she heard Sutton’s angry voice.
“What do you mean, you won’t help?” she heard Sutton shout into the phone. A second or two passed before she heard him say, in a quieter, more respectful voice, “No sir, I won’t.” When she heard his terse, “Goodbye,” she hurried back to the sofa and picked up the magazine she had left on the cushion. She looked up from its glossy pages as her husband came into the room and went directly to the wet bar. He poured himself a drink and downed it, before pouring another.
“Is something the matter?” she asked.
Sutton took another drink and then pulled something from his pocket and carried it to where she sat on the couch. He threw it onto the cushion next to her and took a seat opposite hers on the matching loveseat.
Christina picked up the paper, and unfolded it. After her brain processed what the paper represented, she refolded it and placed it on the coffee table. “Again, Sutton?” Her husband didn’t answer. “How could you be so stupid?” she shouted, and then looked at the photo again. “You just can’t seem to stop thinking with your dick.”
He shrugged and finished his drink and then got up and poured another. “We have until Wednesday night,” he told her over the rim of his glass.
“Same as before?”
“Yes,” he answered shortly. “Exactly the same.”
“Sawyer?” she asked, guessing who he had called.
“The Reverend said we’re on our own. He doesn’t want anything to do with this.”
“I don’t know why you thought he’d help – he didn’t last time.” Dameron ignored her bitter comment. She watched him with glittering eyes from her place across the coffee table. “I guess we’ll just have to handle it ourselves.”
Dameron didn’t say a word as she threw her magazine on the table and left the room. He drank until the decanter on the bar was empty, and then opened another bottle.
Things had been going so well until he’d been unable to resist temptation and found himself back in the same mess he’d just gotten out of. He really couldn’t help it that he sometimes got the urge for something a little different. After all, variety was the spice of life.
He lifted the glass to his mouth and took a deep swallow of the amber liquid. He rolled his head on his shoulders and thought about his life.
Sutton came from a very liberal family. His father and mother had both gained a certain level of notoriety in liberal circles for the work on behalf of the environment and the needy. He’d been raised to understand that it was important to speak up for causes that were in danger because of humanity’s never ending greed. He’d made a good start early on as a liberal spokesperson and had basked in the approval of family and friends. He appeared set for a brilliant future, until he’d realized the one uncomfortable truth about liberal politics – a cause could only be sustained as long as the money kept flowing. Once the gravy train came to a halt, other decisions had to be made.
In this conservative state, it didn’t take long for funding to run out. Outside of a couple of larger cities, the political landscape was dominated by the old-line families and organizations who were primarily concerned with keeping the status quo firmly in place, and ruthlessly used every trick in the book to make sure that they maintained their position of leadership. Sutton had learned that truth the hard way as he’d suffered a few instances of humiliation and defeat, and the funds had totally dried up.
About halfway through his first term, he decided to shift his focus and throw his lot in with those that were destined to win. Sutton liked winning and there was a lot more money to be had from people like the old bastard Sawyer than from the tree huggers and bleeding hearts.
No reasonable person could possibly blame him for switching teams. He laughed bitterly to himself as he thought about the irony in that last thought. He guessed he’d switched teams alright – and in more ways than one.
So what if he liked a little male companionship once in a while? It wasn’t like he was going to leave his wife and children for a nice piece of ass or a big dick. As long as no one knew about his extracurricular activities, no one was going to get hurt.
He guessed he’d always been somewhat attracted to a good looking man. He could remember having urges as far back as high school when he’d found himself noticing the athletes in the locker room. He’d admired their easy camaraderie as they’d joked and kidded with each other and horsed around in the shower. There’d been many a late night when he’d brought himself off imagining his hands on their hard, toned bodies and theirs on his.
He’d never acted on his impulses until recently, but not because he thought there was anything wrong with it. Outside of the political concerns there was nothing to lose. He knew his family would have been accepting. In fact, they would have been more than accepting and would have flaunted the fact that they had a bisexual son for the extra credibility it gave them. And he was bisexual – he was sure of that. As much as he liked being with a man, he also enjoyed sexual relations with a woman. The fact he had two children attested to that, didn’t it? He just enjoyed a change now and then.
Christina had known about his outside activities for years, and had never said a word. Her only request was that he be discreet and stay out of trouble. He figured she’d never said a word to anyone – especially her stuck-up family. They thought he wasn’t good enough for their daughter anyway, and nothing he’d achieved over the last few years had changed their view. They’d be sorry when he was sitting in the Governor’s Mansion or maybe even the White House. He savored that fantasy for a few minutes and then frowned. He took another slug of his drink and forced himself to think about the current situation.
Hard Job: Reightman & Bailey Book Two Page 17