Being in prison is like being in a fish bowl. You lose the contact from outside. It's also why prisoners who do get released often go on to reoffend, simply because they never received any training to not be who they are – and people always fall back to familiar patterns in that instance.
I send a few brief prayers Danny's way, and wrap up my shift at one in the morning. He's not sent back into prison, so it looks like he's been freed. Beatrice succeeded in her case. What a woman. I'll need to phone her up and thank her. But not now.
I've been keeping myself up cruelly with coffee, and when I finally arrive back home, I enter the residential block where I live, let myself in through the entrance, and go into the lift to floor five, where my apartment is. When I step out and turn on the temporary light to illuminate the walkway, I see someone slumped in front of my door. Alarm quickly melts into excitement when I see that it's Danny. He groggily seems to stir himself away, then blink and grin when he sees me standing only a few meters away. I cross my arms and purse my lips at him.
“I take it you got free then,” I say, keeping the tone casual, even as Danny crows in delight and lunges towards me. I'm barely able to stay on my feet as he hugs me tight. I quickly guide him into my home, intending to carry the conversation here instead of accidentally waking up the neighbors, and Danny is gushing the whole time.
“Beatrice was amazing! She killed it, she exonerated me, I had a full court apology, and they're compensating me for the wrongful imprisonment! It's fantastic!” He's so happy, and I can't help but smile. It's especially good to see him in ordinary clothes for once, rather than prison slacks. He wears a blue jumper with black pants, and his eyes are afire with happiness. “She obtained footage showing my bicycle parked outside the apartment – the neighbor next door had a private camera because someone had poisoned his dog a few months back – and my bike could be seen for most of the time frame where I was supposed to have gone in and murdered five people.” He purses his lips at this, before asking if he can drink some water, because he's not actually drunk anything for most of the day.
I agree, smiling, though tired, as I say, “I'm so happy for you. I knew something wasn't right about your imprisonment.”
“It's all because of you and Beatrice,” he says, accepting the drink I give him. He now looks close to tears, his edible bottom lip trembling. “You helped me get out.”
“You probably would have helped yourself out, given the time,” I say, winking, though my cheeks flush slightly as I see a hint of bare stomach as he stretches, before slumping out on my brown leather sofa.
He shakes his head, taking a large gulp of water, now wiping his eyes. He seems so tired. “I don't know. It didn't feel like anyone wanted to listen to me. You know, Beatrice found a new suspect. He's being tried for murder soon.”
I raise my eyebrows. “She did?” Jesus, that woman goes on a rampage when she needs to.
“Yeah. She thinks the family cleaner did it. No one suspected him because of his long history of looking after the house, no prior convictions, and seemingly solid alibi. But she uncovered information that the wife was cheating on her husband with him, and that the husband found out. She also uncovered a CV written out the day before they died. So, she's looking forward to gathering evidence there...” He sighs and rubs his eyes.
I smile and nod. “Well, I suppose that will be it now. Back to the restaurant? Back to the girl you wanted to see?” Fuck. I feel a stab of jealously as I say that, like I'm eighteen, not in my thirties. Danny peers at me, puzzled.
“The restaurant, I'm not sure about. I need to check with them. But why would I get back with the girl?”
I nervously scratch the back of my head. “Well, because you don't need to have me around anymore. You're out now.”
For a moment, Danny just stares at me like I'm an idiot. Then he rolls his eyes, laughs, then shuffles right next to me on the sofa, places his lips to mine, and kisses. I almost drop my coffee in shock, and end up spilling a little on the table.
“What?”
“You're a fucking idiot. Why do you think I'm waiting for you outside your apartment? You think I'm going to go running off after a girl when you've stuck by my side for all those months? When I've kissed you and had you inside me?”
Oh. Um. My cheeks flare crimson, and I have a moment of difficulty in breathing. “Right. Okay.” I still feel the lingering warmth of his lips pressed against mine. I touch my hand to my lip, and a smile spreads, until it consumes the sadness within. “I suppose I'm okay working with that. But are you sure?”
Again, Danny gives me a raised eyebrow, as if to say, really?
Then he leans forward for a stronger, more passionate kiss. I go into it with enthusiasm, then hesitate when I hear him reach into his pocket. I step back and watch with slight surprise as he takes out a tiny bottle of lubricant.
“Figured we should come more prepared this time,” he says with a rakish grin.
I grin back. “Someone's expecting to get something tonight, aren't they...?”
“Well, I don't mind waiting. I waited long enough to find someone I can fall in love with.”
For a moment, my heart squeezes tight. The casual way he just mentioned love makes me happy and sad at the same time. I hardly know how to handle the emotion, but I tuck it away as best as able, before letting out a gentle smile. “You could say I've waited a long time for that as well. My innocent friend.”
“I still can't believe they threw me in there. It felt like the worst luck, and I remember just being in court, acting amazed when the prosecution wove this tale of a cold-blooded serial killer, causing the jury to nod along, to actually convict me. I feel like they didn't even bother looking for any other suspects, and just fired everything at me.”
“They wanted a quick solve,” I say quietly. “That doesn't always mean a fair one.” I kiss him, now positioning so I'm pushing him against the sofa, and our mouths are hot and greedy together. We've waited a long time since our first venture into sex, and I'm eager to feel him against me again. I had resigned myself into believing that once he was free, he would have no more need of me. That the whole thing had occurred because he was stuck in a cell, convinced he might be there for the rest of his life, and latched onto the first person who showed him affection.
Well, maybe it was a little of that. There was a little of something else, too, the same something that now drives us together. I kiss, and caress, and we slowly take one another's clothes off, until we're both naked. Sitting across from each other on the sofa, we run our hands across each other's supple bodies, before I reach down to his semi-erect dick, and start rubbing my fingers along it. He does the same to me, and it's quite something to watch ourselves grow to attention under our careful administrations. For a moment, I consider having a sort of jerk off contest, and the idea amuses me.
I think he has the same notion, because he has a faint upward curl to his lips as well, and there's a sparkle in his green eyes. His face hardens in lust when he examines my body. I realize he didn't get to see me properly last time. I stripped him down, but I kept a shirt on for myself. His eyes roam in a greedy manner over my torso, flicking across my abdomen, before he lets out an eager grunt, releases my erection, and starts turning me around.
“I've been imagining doing this to you for a while,” he growls, his hands cool down my hot back. I let out a gasping breath and shudder as I hear the distinctive click of a bottle being opened. He's eager. He's horny. And the fever is infecting me as well, burning out of my cheeks, making my blood hot under my skin. My heart thumps faster than it ever does when I exercise, and the anticipation is unbearable. I want him inside me. I want to be fucked, I want to become a mindless vessel of pleasure.
The cold lubricant shocks me at first, especially against my heated skin. He actually pours some down near the tailbone, and I feel it trickle decadently down. It slips between my butt cheeks, and he applies more with his fingers, now teasing the hole there. I shiver violently
as he lightly puts his smallest finger in, which is lathered with the lubricant. It feels like he must be using the entire bottle at this rate, and a pleasant smell emanates, helping to stimulate my arousal further. Even clean shaven, freshly washed and shining with his freedom, Danny still contains that distinctive manly scent of him, with a faint tang of yeast, as if he spends his days in a bakery, attaching the aroma of fresh bread onto his skin.
His one finger turns into a bigger one, and then two are inside me, helping to stretch me out deliciously. When his erection presses against me, that's lubricated as well. He holds one hand against my rear, and uses the other to steer himself inside me.
With a gasp, and a surge of electricity triggering all my senses, to the point where I think every part of my body has prickled in goose bumps, he buries himself all the way inside. I let out a whimper as he begins to glide, his cold dick in my hot entrance. It's such an incredible contrast of sensations, though he warms up fast inside me as he begins to pound harder. The sofa cushions underneath wobble from the force he puts into me, and I feel both intense pleasure and pain. With every thrust, I see my dick waver, along with my balls, and know that even without it being touched, I'm likely going to come from the roughness. I gasp as he wraps one hand around my throat, squeezing tighter on my trachea, making my breaths constricted, until I start feeling dizzy. Then he lets go, and the dizzy sensation, along with the way he rams into my g-spot, makes me croak, “Do that again.”
He obliges, choking me again, making me attempt to draw ragged breaths, and to my dazed amazement, I feel myself come, spurting four, five times over the sofa, and gasping in relief when he lets off my throat. He continues to thrust hard inside me, and he comes as well in a short space of time.
Even though our sex was short, I feel utterly spent. My throat feels scratchy from what he did to me, yet at the same time, the thrill of danger, the floating sensation of my thoughts was addictive.
It seems in a way that I've seen so much darkness in my job, that I need to have it squeezed out of me. That being so close to people who have done horrible things can leave a stamp on your soul. I'm likely going to have to talk with Danny about this, though we're both venturing into new, unexplored territory. Both of us are fumbling around the concept of new love. We're free, we're together, and the mere sight of each other's bodies turns us on.
This time, because we couldn't in the cell, I turn, scoot up Danny's side, and cradle him tight.
He smiles and closes his eyes, his head partially leaning on my shoulder. I stroke his hair, and lean my chin on the top of his head, and close my eyes too.
I'm glad he's free. That he didn't commit the crime people thought he did. I'm glad Beatrice got him out. I owe that woman a holiday.
And I'm glad that he chose to come back to me, to rest in my arms. It makes me positive of the future. And for the first time, I realize that I don't have to go at it alone. I might face criminals in the daytime, but I can go back home to someone I love.
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Enjoy Your Bonus Stories!
Step-Brothers
~ Bonus Story ~
A Super-Steamy Gay Menage Romance
Noah Waverly drives three friends southward to Spring Break, and rents a hotel room for the four of them. They repay him by having an orgy, and locking him out of the room. This was nothing more than a continuation of their bullying for the past four years.
Noah goes to the beach, and meets two look-alike lifeguards. As much as they look alike, they’re actually step-brothers. Both muscular, handsome and flirtatious, he vows to see more of them. He wanders off, gets caught up in a game where guys get naked in exchange for shots, then decides to go swimming. He’s swept out to sea, goes under, and the world goes black.
He knows he’s in heaven, because a strong, attractive angel is making out with him. He tries to respond, drawing the angel closer, until he starts spitting up water. It’s actually one of the lifeguard step-brothers, giving him mouth-to-mouth.
The gorgeous step-brothers take him under their wing, and as he’s telling them about his “friends,” something clicks. Noah decides he’s done being bullied, and checks out of the hotel. The bullies spend the night in jail on trespassing charges, and are out for revenge.
Noah’s out for fun, and has plenty of it that night with Carter, his bed-mate, and his equally attractive step-brother, Josh. The following day, the bullies locate Josh, and payback seemed certain, until a female lifeguard broke up their party. She puts all three in the sand, head first, and has them arrested for assaulting a lifeguard.
Not enough excitement for one day, Noah hears a shot, and he and Carter rush in the direction of the sound. Josh has been shot in the head, by the jealous boyfriend of the man Josh had shared a bed with last night. Carter and Noah follow the ambulance to a hospital, where Josh is recovering from the wound left when the bullet bounced off. He learns that he has a neurological condition that will keep him from returning to work, and, without insurance, he’s facing enormous medical bills.
The three manage to sort out the situation; for how, you’ll have to read the story. Noah returns two months later, after finishing his college degree, and the three men pick up where they left off – in bed, satisfied and happy.
* * *
Chapter One
I can’t believe I finally made it to Spring Break. Most of the other guys spend their time watching the girls, going to wet T-shirt contests, and drinking themselves stupid. I, on the other hand, spend my time watching the guys. Especially my favorite candy, lifesavers. You know, the ripped guys who sit up high on the beach and flirt with the girls while pretending to look for drowning swimmers.
I drove down with three friends from the university, Mack, Stan and Larissa. The guys are typical jocks, Larissa is an airhead blond. As I dropped them off at the hotel, they said, “See you upstairs, Noah. I parked the car and went up to the room. There was a rope hanging on the doorknob, and the door was locked from the inside. I could hear laughing, and giggling, and slurping, and bedsprings bouncing on the other side of the door. I got the message, and checked my jeans at the front desk, and wore my orange bathing trunks I had on underneath. Oh, and a green-striped button-down shirt.
I stood and admired the blond, muscled, tall lifeguard directly in front of the hotel. He had gathered a crowd of people watching him; it was apparent from the drooling that ‘watching’ wasn’t the only thing they had in mind. This one flirted with the girls, and even with some off the guys. There was no chance he would flirt with me. I was skinny, gangly, wore thick glasses, and had a pocket protector in my shirt pocket, full of pens and pencils.
I wandered north on the beach until I came upon a crowd of senior citizens sunning themselves. In the middle of the crowd I found the same lifeguard perched on his chair. “How did you get here so quickly?” I asked him. “You were just at the station south of here.”
The guy laughed, his mouth opening from ear to ear, and his green eyes sparkling. “That’s Josh, my brother. I’m Carter.” I introduced myself, and said they must be twins.
“Not at all,” Carter replied. “In fact, we’re not real brothers, we’re step-brothers. It’s spooky how much we look alike. If you look close, you’ll see that my eyes are green, and his are blue. Look even closer, and you’ll find that my dick is much bigger than his.”
I stared into his emerald eyes, hoping he could read my mind. “Yup, green eyes.” I moved my gaze lower, and said, “What are the chances of seeing the more important difference?”
Carter looked at me, a sly grin on his face. “Why, Noah, are you flirting with me?” My face turned beet-red, and he laughed. Then he stood up, began swaying his backside, and started lowering his red trunks. It’s a good thing my own trunks are really big.
Before
giving me a sight of anything except some pubes, he pulled his suit up and resumed his seat. I must have looked disappointed, because he put his hand on my cheek and stroked it lightly. “Maybe later. Unlike the Spring Breakers, they’re serious about lifeguards getting naked. I’d be fired. If it’s dick you want to see, go north about a quarter mile and look for a sign reading Shots for Cocks.”
“Thanks. Maybe I’ll see more of you later,” I told him, and wove my way carefully through a minefield of old, wrinkled bodies. Sure enough, I found the sign, attached to a tent. There were two or three guys with their bathing suits pulled down in front, showing off, and a couple of naked guys playing in the surf. I had arrived.
I walked over to the tent. Inside was an old guy, maybe fifty, handing out shots. “Show me your cock and I’ll give you a shot,” he was telling guys. He had a bunch of takers. Once they’d had a shot, he’d say “Take it all off and you get another shot.” He still had a lot of takers.
To Love A Hitman Page 5