Buzz & Blow

by Alex Carreras

  Turning the street corner and taking a sustaining breath, Niko approached his apartment complex. The sight always brought a smile to his lips. He loved it there. Once inside, the home was a virtual Fort Knox where Niko could lock himself away from the burning sun of the Sunshine State, safe and secure, and above all, his. It was his sanctuary. But recently, he’d longed to share it with someone. The dark, cool safety of his home was beginning to feel a lot like his heart, which was great in a piece of real estate, but not so good when it came to feelings of love. Except for the occasional trick, Niko had refused to let any man in for any duration of time, the tricks never amounting to much. On spotting Asher from across the street on his second day at Killer Kuts, thoughts of getting to know the handsome vampire had taken up residence in his brain, refusing to let go. There was something about Asher that made Niko’s interest pique and his cock hard, a winning and unique combination in Niko’s book. Now all he had to do was get Asher’s overprotective boss to step aside so he could make his move, a job that didn’t appear like it was going to be that easy.

  Reaching his apartment door, Niko chose to go through the motions of unlocking it with a key instead of simply passing through. It felt new and nostalgic all at once. Heading straight for the bedroom, every muscle in his well-toned body ached, and his head spun with thoughts of Asher. All he wanted was to close his eyes and check out and forget his increasingly difficult life for a few short hours. Plus, his intuition told him he needed his rest to face the immediate future.

  Toeing off his lace-free, high top Converse sneakers, Niko stripped nude, preferring his birthday suit over pajamas for sleeping. He slid between silk sheets, the smooth material rubbing the underside of his cock. He sucked in a sharp breath, the delicious friction taking him aback. His dick having thoughts of its own, Niko became instantly hard, and his nuts ached for release.

  Niko loved to jack off, but he was getting a little sick of masturbating instead of experiencing the real thing.

  Visions of Asher, white ass raised into the air in offering, played across his mind’s eyes. What he wouldn’t give to run his hands along the smooth crevice and find that tight bud to heaven. Niko was an ass man, and Asher had one hell of an ass. Relaxing into the bed, Niko stroked his length as his fantasy began to play out like a movie on a screen. A low moan escaped his lips, and he tightened his hold, stroking harder and deeper. With his other hand, he toyed with the sensitive skin of his left nipple that had a direct line back to his cock.

  God that felt good.

  Lost in the skillful manipulations and hitting all the right spots, it didn’t take long for Niko to recognize that tug deep in his gut. His balls contracting, he needed to come, now, the sweet self-torture too much to bear. Pinching his nipple, Niko pumped with purpose. Brain going black, the space behind his eyes shattered like fragile glass, and he was suspended in the blissful agony of orgasm. A steady stream of warm juice shot from his slit. He gulped oxygen and fought back the sting of tears as he fully unloaded on his taut abdomen. Spent and sated, Niko did his best at cleanup wishing that he had Asher to curl up with instead of his pillow. Drifting into a deep sleep, he relived his fantasy over and over as the balmy night turned into yet another Florida scorcher.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Before you find out—”

  Asher had just walked through the doors of Everlasting and his night was already starting with drama. Actually, the drama had started before work when he jumped in his BMW to make the journey and was faced with three feeble clicks and a ping. The night unusually warm, Asher decided against walking the two-plus miles. In most climates, vampires didn’t sweat, but in Florida, Asher sweated just enough to dampen his Gucci shirt collar, so he caught the city bus that was in service around the clock. Dropping his man-purse onto his stylist station, Asher looked into the face of defiance mixed with regret. “What did you do?” he asked Jerrod.

  “I thought it would be better to come clean.”

  “Then do it and stop freaking me out.”

  “I had a minor chat with Niko,” Jerrod admitted.

  Asher groaned. “Am I going to have to apologize to him?” Asher looked past Jerrod out onto the street to see if Niko was outside of the barbershop, smoking a cigarette.

  “That’s up to you, but he’s a big boy and can take some constructive criticism.”

  “Was this under the influence?”

  “You know I can’t handle synthetic blood followed by a vodka chaser.”

  “Just the one chaser?”

  “Okay.” Jerrod pursed his lips and flared his nostrils. “Two.”

  “What did you say exactly?”

  “I warned him off you.”

  “Jesus, Jerrod.” Asher sighed. “Why?”

  “You know how I feel about him.”

  “But I don’t feel the same way. My gut tells me he’s a good bet.”

  “When did you become a gambler?”

  “When I first saw him.”

  “I’ll step aside then,” Jerrod said. “If you fall I will be there to pick you up. And if that night comes I will say, ‘I told you so.’”

  “Asshole,” Asher mumbled under his breath.

  Jerrod spun on his bespoke heels and peered out of the salon window. “What do you know about his younger friend who resembles Niko?”

  “I believe they are family.” Asher stood by Jerrod. “Not brothers.”

  “Did you hear the news?”

  When Jerrod wanted to share news, it always meant it was bad news, and it usually affected Asher. “Do I want to know?”

  “Two more were murdered late last night.”

  “Random knifing?” Niko guessed, but knew the answer.

  “Gutted,” Jerrod said. “Two young men, one human and the other a known donor who had a weakness for vampires. Guess that weakness got him killed.”

  “Do they know who did it?”

  “The police have their suspicions.”

  “Is there a reason you’re telling me this while looking at Killer Kuts?”

  “I don’t trust those guys. Before you arrived, a trooper drove by slowly. They pulled into the parking lot behind the shop. Waited for about five minutes then drove away.”

  “Maybe it was a client. Cops get haircuts too.”

  “Not these. They were bald under their hats.” Jerrod redirected his gaze to Asher. Asher fought a chill, his skin going goose-bumpy. “My eyes see everything . . . and I trust what I see.”

  Asher was beginning to lose it, really lose it. “Did you see Niko kill those unfortunate people?”

  “He knows something.” Jerrod’s jaw pulsed.

  “Then why don’t I march over there and ask him right this instant.”

  “And what do you expect him to say? ‘Why yes, I dismembered those lost souls, and oh, by the way, how would you like to suck my cock?’”

  “Anything would be better than speculation.”

  “I say we just sit back and watch.” Jerrod’s cultured baritone was calm, but he still managed to unnerve Asher. “The Sangre police force is more than capable. They’ll do their job and earn their income.”

  “And if Niko is not involved then you will owe me an apology.”

  Jerrod didn’t apologize well or too frequently.

  “Absolutely . . . but I’m sure it won’t come to that.” Jerrod inhaled through his nose and said on an exhale, “It never does, does it?”

  Pompous prick.

  Expecting it to be a busy night, Asher turned to get set up placing his combs and brushes in their rightful places, the cylindrical and colorful bottles lined up against the mirror on his chrome colored station. He attempted to clear his thoughts of the murders and Niko’s involvement, if he was involved, and focus on his client list instead.

  With each hour that passed, and each client finished, Asher kept stealing glances out the window in the hopes of seeing Niko leaning against a lamp post, smoking and looking relaxed, but he saw nothing. It wasn’t until he heard the
screeching of tires on asphalt followed by the smell of burning brakes and rubber that he finally saw signs of life.

  Jerrod, Tory, Asher, and several clients, their hair caked with jelly-like tint, all ran to catch a view. Afraid to look, Asher cowered behind Jerrod, fearing the worst.

  Tory’s squeaky lilt cut through the “ohs” and “ahs” of the interested women. “It’s the cops,” he said excitedly. “They’re getting out with guns drawn.”

  “Hope they have the right kind of bullets,” said a client who was undergoing a much-needed update, her last salon service being the day after American President Ronald Reagan was shot. “Those normal slugs won’t do much to the likes of us.”

  Tory continued with the play-by-play. “Asher, Jerrod, look how butch those humans look in those uniforms. And look how tight their pants fit.” He glided his tongue along his glossed bottom lip, staring at the beefy police officers. “What I wouldn’t give to take a bite out of that.”

  The ladies laughed, Jerrod joining in with a throaty chuckle.

  “Tory,” Asher spat. “This is serious. Something is going down over there and it ain’t pretty.”

  Tory turned and cocked his slight hip “Ya think.”

  Asher didn’t have the time or patience for the twinky vamp’s sassiness. “Just tell me what you see. I can’t bear to look.” Asher turned away from the action and waited as sounds of yelling voices mixed with gunfire sounded from the outside.

  “Okay,” Tory began, doing his best Mary Hart.

  “Guns are drawn.”

  Pause.

  “Cuties yelling toward the barbershop.”

  Pause

  “Tension crackling through the air.”

  Longer pause.

  “Hottest cop is flexing his ass.”

  Pause.

  “He’s still flexing his ass.”

  Then it all went silent. Very silent.

  Asher couldn’t take it. He risked a look just in time to see men and vampires alike of every race, size, and color race out of Killer Kuts. Some fell to the sidewalk in surrender while others ran or flew in every direction, fleeing.

  “Do you think all those men are guilty of the same crime?” Asher asked, his heart hammering in his chest.

  “Doubt it . . . but they are all guilty of something,” Jerrod said. “Guiltless men don’t run.”

  Tory clapped and jumped up and down where he stood. “This is more exciting than when I attended the beheadings of two of Henry’s six wives.”

  “I miss a good beheading,” Jerrod said. “Ah, the good old days.”

  “Amen,” chimed the clients.

  When the steady stream of men coming out of Killer Kuts slowed, Asher recognized Niko, an unlit cigarette dangling from his luscious, cinnamon-colored lips. He was as cool as they came.

  “That’s it,” Tory stated. “I’m going outside. I can’t hear a damn thing in here.”

  They spilled out of Everlasting onto the street.

  Hiding behind a potted palm, Asher cupped his ear, angling for a chance to eavesdrop.

  Amidst the confusion, Niko’s suave cadence sounded like leaves in a gentle summer breeze. “What seems to be the confusion?”

  The other barbers surrounded Niko and lit up as Niko did the same.

  The tallest officer approached Niko, his Glock resting at his side. “Where is Mario Torres?”

  “How should I know?”

  “He’s your cousin.”

  “Yep.” Niko took a long drag. “But I’m not his keeper.” Smoke curled out of his nostrils.

  “We have witnesses that saw you two together last night.”

  Niko shrugged his muscular shoulders nonchalantly. “I was out with them, too.” He pointed at Jerrod and Asher. “Why don’t you ask them where Mario is?”

  Bile bubbled into Asher’s throat. Although he wouldn’t mind a lengthy pat down from a few of the officers, police generally made him nervous.

  Jerrod strode to the center of the street that was closed to passing traffic. “Add me to your list of witnesses. They were at Resurrection. We all were.”

  “I wasn’t,” Tory tossed in from the sidewalk. “But if any of you officers would like to go tonight, I’d be more than glad to meet you there.”

  “The cop wasn’t addressing you,” Niko said, “so why don’t you get back to work. This isn’t really any of your business. Go on now, you’ve said what you needed to say.”

  “You made it my business by getting me involved. What you do and whom you attract to this section of the city affects me and my bottom line, greatly. My ladies don’t enjoy seeing common riff-raff.”

  Jerrod’s derogatory comments didn’t go over well with the crowd assembled in the street. A few offhand remarks were tossed back at him, but he appeared unruffled, his aquiline nose held high in the air.

  “Gentlemen,” Asher rushed over and stepped between Niko and Jerrod. “Let’s not allow this to get too heated or too personal.” He looked through narrowed eyes at Jerrod. “Speaking of business, don’t you have hair to do?”

  “I’m interested as to why these officers have Niko on their radar,” Jerrod said.

  The officer continued to speak. “It’s Mario Torres we’re looking for.”

  “You can keep looking,” said Niko, “because he’s not here. Has anyone seen him tonight?”

  Niko’s coworkers shook their heads, and some scratched their chins. “Been days, man,” said Kairon Brody, one of the owners of Killer Kuts. “Had a touch-up the other day. Tight fade, real close and nice. The guy hasn’t done anything wrong. Too nice to be bad.”

  “We didn’t say he did,” the officer said.

  Niko ran his hand over his head appearing cool and confident. “Then why are you looking for him? Or is it normal to come charging in with your guns drawn?”

  “We received a phone call.” The officer scanned the people standing close to him. “Does anyone know anything about that?”

  His question was met with silence. “Didn’t think so,” he said turning to his car. “Tell Mister Torres that we want to speak with him.”

  They watched as the officers packed in and drove off.

  The intensity of the situation subsided, but Asher’s anxiety only escalated. He had seen Mario hanging with Niko before. He looked harmless in a thug-about-town kind of way. Now Asher was beginning to have his suspicions. Asher’s curiosity got the best of him. “I heard two people were killed last night,” he directed toward Niko. “Do you think that’s why they’re looking for your cousin?”

  “Not sure,” Niko replied as the crowd dissipated. “Whatever it is, it can’t be good. They were serious, and I have to admit, I don’t like it.”

  “Me neither,” Asher said. “And about last night, apparently Jerrod took it upon himself to run some interference.”

  “He’s just looking out for a friend.” Niko lifted the cigarette to his lips and took two quick tokes, then tossed it to the pavement. “Can’t hate him for that.”

  “I want to apologize . . . and say that I don’t feel the same way.”

  That sexy smirk warmed Asher in all the right places. “Good to know. Does that mean if I ask you out for a drink tonight after work, you’ll accept?”

  Asher returned the smile, but he doubted it was as sexy as Niko’s. Asher knew he was attractive in a vampire-next-door kind of way, but sexy? He was under no illusions. “I get off at three.”

  “That’ll work for me. I know a place a few blocks away.” Niko’s eyes sparkled. “Dark. Intimate.”

  “Are you describing the bar or yourself?”

  Niko chuckled. “I’ll meet you here at three.” He winked before returning to work.

  Feeling like he was levitating feet over the street, Asher walked toward the salon. Before he could close the door behind him, Tory stormed him. “I saw the whole thing, and his body language says that he is so into you, like really, really into you. Trust me I know these things, and I’m never wrong.”

  J
errod cleared his throat loudly. “Tory, what’s my body language saying?”

  Tory pursed his lips. “Says you need to get laid.”

  “You’re wrong,” Jerrod said. “Want to try again?”

  “Not necessary.” Tory slinked away from his boss and toward his client sitting at the shampoo bowl, waiting to have the color rinsed from her hair.

  Jerrod crooked his finger at Asher. “Come here.”

  Asher managed to drag himself to stand in front of Jerrod. “What?” Why did he feel like he was about to get punished and not in a good way?

  “I hate to admit it,” Jerrod began, “but Tory’s right. That guy’s body language says he’s all over you like a blanket.”

  God, I hope so.

  “He asked me out on a drink thingy tonight.”

  “You mean a date.”

  Asher tried to focus on anything except Jerrod’s imploring eyes. “Yep. Guess you could call it that.”

  “I am calling it that. Just be careful,” Jerrod warned in a fatherly tone. “Where there is smoke, there’s fire, and that was a blazing one we just witnessed out in the street.”

  Asher had to agree that it wasn’t an everyday event for an episode of COPS to unfold right in front of his eyes. It was a lot of adventure even for a vampire who’s been around for a few centuries. “My instinct tells me that I’ll be okay with Niko, besides it’s only a drink.”

  “But as we both know a drink can lead to a multitude of sins.”

  “Some good,” Asher reminded.

  “Some not so good,” Jerrod finished.

  They stood in an uncomfortable silence until Asher said, “Better get to work. If Mrs. Malouf gets any blonder, her husband is going to have to use sunglasses to look at her.”

  “She’s always complaining he ignores her. This may be the way of finally getting his attention.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Sitting at a high-top table, Asher looked at the other inhabitants of the bar area of the restaurant. He had never been here before, which Asher thought strange since it was only a few blocks away from work. Duets were what Niko had promised: dark, intimate and popular enough to feel a buzz of excitement in the well-cooled air.