A.O.E.M.: Taboo

by Stephanie Burke

  A few deep breaths and Knight Sayburn was once again in control. “I assure you,” she said in a clipped voice, “I am the last person to succumb to histrionics.”

  “I understand, Knight.” The older gentleman relaxed a bit, seeing that the number one stockbroker in this firm was now listening. “I understand that you are rather disappointed…”

  “Disappointed?” One raven’s wing eyebrow rose over steel-gray eyes. “Disappointed is too tame a word. You know that I am the best man for the job, Montgomery. No one else has bigger clients, no one else makes the money that I do. If I were a lawyer, I would be gifted with the name ‘rainmaker.’ But since my specialty is finding loopholes in business laws and I’m merely the best stockbroker this company has seen in over thirty years, I am only gifted with betrayal!”

  “Betrayal? Now, Knight, don’t say anything you will regret, anything too rash!”

  “What else would you call it, Montgomery? I’m the best thing that you have ever had and yet, once again, I’m passed over for promotion.”

  Sighing heavily, the older man leaned forward in his chair, placed both arms on his massive mahogany desk, and decided to be honest with his protégé. “It is precisely because of what you’re not.”

  “I’m the best man for this job, Montgomery!” Knight began, only to pause as Montgomery held up one hand.

  “No, you are not.”

  “But my numbers…”

  “You are not, Knight.” The man raised his hand higher to halt the recitation of very accurate facts and figures he knew was going to come forth from that competent and intelligent mouth. “You are not the best man.” He emphasized those last two words.

  “Oh.” At once the indignation Knight felt fled away, leaving her feeling hollow and empty.

  “I’m sorry, Knight, but no matter how you try, you will never be the man you pretend to be.”

  “Is that what you think, Montgomery?” Knight’s voice sounded almost dead. “Is that what you believe? That I ape the men in order to get ahead?”

  There was finally defeat in those gray eyes, but there was pride as well. It was the pride that kept the tears in check that so deeply wanted to burn their way out of those eyes and trail like acid down her face.

  “I know this isn’t true, Knight, but… but look at you!”

  “Look at me?”

  Knight’s eyes wrinkled as she looked down at her pin-striped pantsuit, her sensible loafers shined to a high gloss. Her red power tie, her signature accessory, gleamed against the pale gray of her shirt. She was businesslike and professional, as usual. “What’s wrong with me?”

  “For God’s sake, Knight,” Montgomery exploded, believing that the once-over she’d given herself would be self-explanatory. “You’re wearing pants!”

  “I always wear pants!” she retorted.

  “I know! They know!” He gestured to the hive of activity beyond his soundproofed doors. “We all know! When was the last time you wore a skirt?”

  “It’s winter, Montgomery,” Knight helpfully pointed out.

  “Which means it’s been weeks since you shaved your legs.”

  She blushed as the truth of that statement hit home. “So?”

  “Knight, your sexuality is your own affair, but when you start to flaunt it at the office --”

  “Whoa! Back up! Flaunt? Sexuality? What the hell are you talking about, Montgomery?”

  “Knight,” he soothed, reaching across the desktop to pat one of her limp hands, “it’s okay that you don’t like men… in that respect --”

  “What?”

  “Well, we all figured that out ages ago, Knight. Your desire for, shall we say, more delicate and feminine comforts…”

  “I am not gay.”

  “Whatever, Knight.” Montgomery shook his head. “Don’t ask, don’t tell may not have worked in the military, but it works fine at Schuster and Bitters.”

  “I am not gay!”

  “Live in denial, if you wish, Knight. But you are waving your lifestyle around like a red flag… like that red power tie you love.”

  “I am not gay!”

  “Face facts, man… uh, woman!” The exasperated man exhaled a hard breath. “When was the last time you had a date?”

  “Um… well…”

  “Partners’ Party? Office Party? Birthday Party? End of the Year party, Millennium Bash?”

  “I was working, Montgomery!” Knight seethed. “Jeez, man, you don’t bring in the big numbers like I do by going out and playing slap and tickle with every Tom, Dick, and Harry you know!”

  “Precisely! Half the problem is that you don’t play with dick!”

  An embarrassed silence fell on both sides of the argument.

  “Look, Knight,” Montgomery said softly. “If you say that you are not gay, then I believe you.”

  “I quit.” Her words were as intense as the gaze she cast upon her mentor.

  “I know this is hard, but… what?”

  “I quit, Montgomery. It’s quite simple, really. I can’t change the way I am, and I sure as hell can’t change other people’s minds.”

  “Knight, no!”

  “You know what I believe, Montgomery? I believe that they will always see me as the butch bitch who started sleeping with girls to be one of the boys.”

  “Knight, listen to me.” Montgomery turned serious eyes to his protégé. “You’ve worked too damn hard for way too long to give this all away.”

  “To give what away? The job that I will never advance in, the people who can’t wait to jump to conclusions about my sex life because theirs has to be so damn boring that they have to declare me gay to spice theirs up a bit? I am not gay, Montgomery. Not in the least.”

  “Are… are you sure, Knight?”

  Knight sighed and finally gave in to the impulse to run her fingers through her short-cropped black hair.

  “Don’t you think I would know if I had a hankering for pussy, Montgomery?”

  The older man blushed at her frank and earthy language, but stuck to his guns. “Sometimes we have to explore ourselves, Knight, to really know what we are. And don’t tell me you’ve had the chance for a little self-exploration. As you say, you spend all your free time working. How would you know what sex you prefer?”

  Well, that was the truth, Knight decided. She did work all the time. But wouldn’t she know if she were gay?

  The men at her office were either trying to use her to get ahead or were to be used by her -- politely, mind you -- on her upward climb. Sleeping with the male clients was unheard of and against her personal moral code.

  There was Montgomery… She shuddered at the thought as she imagined the serious face of the older man, the wrinkles that lined his care-worn face, hovering above her in ecstasy, bellowing for her to suck his cock deeper or to take each thrust of his, um, cock. Right then and there, she decided that she didn’t need an older “Daddy,” either.

  Maybe she was gay! Oh, damn. And fifteen minutes ago, she actually knew who she was.

  “Look, Knight.” Montgomery finally spoke.

  The sound of his voice tore her mercifully from her horrific inner reverie and visions of his sweating form collapsed across her, offering her a cigarette after monkey sex. Hell, that alone was enough to turn her gay!

  “Maybe you need a break. Now hear me out,” he added, as she was about to interrupt. “I recently applied to go on this once in a lifetime, find your mate and live happily ever after vacation. And don’t look at me like that! I have sexual urges and needs as well.”

  Knight blanched at the thought -- well, blanched at another image of a naked and thrusting Montgomery pushing his potbelly aside to get his dick deeper into some broad’s pussy.

  “I want you to have it.”

  Knight blinked. “It?” His wrinkled, potbellied dickie-do cock? Ewww!

  “Pay attention, Knight Sayburn!” Montgomery snapped. “I want to you take my island vacation. Go and discover yourself before you decide anything here. You
have about eight months of vacation saved up, and it’s about time you took some of it.”

  “But Montgomery, my clients…”

  “You are so well prepared, Knight, that they have figures and facts and numbers for at least a two-week vacation away from your proverbial teat! Do this for yourself, young lady. Or do you want to become like me, old and dried up, taking a package trip to find suitable companionship?”

  That thought sent a frisson of fear sliding through her body.

  Not the image of a dried-up, potbellied Montgomery alone and jacking off in his office, but the image of her, in a few years, potbellied and alone, changing the batteries in her vibrator after everyone had gone home, her computer and printouts her only companionship.

  Before she could formulate an answer, Montgomery slid a gold embossed envelope toward her.

  “Take the vacation and discover yourself, Knight. Before it’s too late.”

  In a daze, Knight Sayburn left her mentor’s office, his words ringing in her ears, a gold envelope in her inside jacket pocket.

  She would go, and she would discover herself, but there were things that she was certain of.

  Stocks would rise and fall, never trust a CEO, she never wanted to see Montgomery naked, and she was not gay!

  She was straight, damn it!

  She was not gay!

  Chapter Four

  “Food.” The grumbling from Tal’s stomach decided his first course of action after all his new experiences.

  First, there was just getting onto this island in the first place. And he thought security around Tebrezia was tight. He was only here by the good graces of that Urban Sprite and the good humor of a sympathetic Merman.

  The sprite had told him of this resort where it would be relatively easy for a Fae warrior from the House of Aggression to get laid and prove to his mate-to-be that he had not only gained useful life experience, but that he was gay.

  The Merman, caught in his own quandary, showed him a private cove that could be used to gain access from the sea. It seemed the poor Merman’s love life was a mess of interspecies angst. He was in love with a dolphin, and his parents didn’t agree. It proved how crappy Tal’s luck was that he ran into a happy interspecies gay couple… who never had a doubt about their lust after a more masculine form, even if it involved fins, gills, and blowholes.

  But after a hellacious magical physical-transfer that dropped him into the heart of the sea, and an even longer swim to the cove, Talcor’s stomach was complaining more than his abused muscles.

  The first place he spied, after spelling himself dry, was the restaurant. “Fresh meat,” he promised his whining stomach. “Lots of protein to get us ready for tonight’s sessions.”

  And if it appeared that he was in a rush, it was true.

  He had cast so many spells and left so many magical trail markers that it would take at least two days for his family to discover he was missing. Hopefully, by that time, the point would be moot. He would have gotten a man, screwed the living daylights out of him, proved to everyone he wasn’t a straight freak, and then he could return home and offer up his anal virginity to his mate without fear of being labeled an oddity.

  That decided, he tossed his braids back over his shoulder and set off for the subdued lighting of the restaurant.

  It was kind of tacky and obviously tourist driven, but the place held an aura of serenity that any creature landing on this island would appreciate. Like a watering hole in the jungle, this place appeared to be an oasis in the growing bustle of the beach.

  There were several round bamboo tables, complete with huge, multi-position umbrellas that would shade the powerful rays of the sun. A grass hut-like bar sat in the back, and already people were lining up for morning Mojitos, mimosas, and fresh fruit juices. The heavenly scents flowing through the morning air reminded him of his parents when they were on their gourmet al fresco phase.

  As he approached, he froze for a second, his senses on high alert. There was a Vampire present.

  The male Vampire was obviously an alpha, by his stature and sheer presence alone, but he was also busily directing a mixed bag workforce of Humans and other creatures as they set out trays that filled the salty beach air with the fragrances of herbs and spices.

  Talcor examined the Vampire before approaching any further, noting the dusky skin and the golden eyes that were filled with power, pride, and quite a bit of desolation. It was odd to see a male, to see anyone with that much hopelessness in his eyes, as if his whole world had collapsed around him and he felt that something he had done had been the cause.

  Tal looked up at the rising sun, then back at the undead creature, who by all rights should have been a burning carbon spot writhing on the beach, but instead was stirring sauces and giving commanding orders. Talcor concentrated on the magical signature the alpha was sending out. It felt odd, out of place, strange and powerful yet incomplete.

  Shaking his head at his thoughts, which were instinctively creating stratagems to battle this creature, he forced himself to recall why he was here. And if reining in his thoughts was not enough to curb the warrior in him, the growling of his stomach was more than adequate.

  Shrugging, he approached the Vampire.

  Not only an alpha Vampire, his senses told him, but a Master as well. Approach with caution.

  As soon as he stepped into the magical range of the Vampire, the man stiffened and his head slowly turned to stare at him. The Vampire’s gaze dropped to Tal’s stomach, reading the lineage markings, and then to his ankles and biceps, reading those markings as well.

  When he spoke, his voice was deep and calm. “I hope there isn’t trouble brewing here, warrior. All of our restaurants are neutral territory.”

  Though the words were kindly said and there was a smile on his lips, Tal noted that the Vampire bared his upper fangs, not aggressively, but as a warning that if there was trouble, he would be the one to end it. It was the mark of a good warrior, a male protecting his territory and ensuring the safety of those who dwelled within. It was something Tal could respect and admire.

  So, Tal thought, the Vampire knows that I am an Elemental Fae and from the House of Aggression, the warrior caste.

  “No, I am not here in any official capacity.” Tal spoke the truth as he gazed into golden eyes that were beautiful despite their intensity. “I find myself in need of epicurean delights, and all my senses led me here.” As he spoke, the growling of his stomach showed the truth of his words. “I am aware of no trouble here on Chimera.”

  Then a bright smile lit up his countenance, though it didn’t lighten the shadows in his eyes. “In that case --” The Vampire gestured to a tray of steaming seafood that was giving off a wondrous smell. “-- try the grilled swordfish. It was caught fresh this morning and marinated in basil, lemon, and pepper sauce. Drizzle it with fresh creamery butter and you have a meal fit for a king.”

  Cooking was obviously one of this man’s passions, a passion Tal could relate to, as cooking always fell to the men of the household, and it was a proper chef who could keep his wife plump and sated. But the fish? “That sounds delicious, but no, thank you.” Tal sighed, looking longingly at the grilled fish, but then a picture of the sad dolphin superimposed itself on the plate, whimpering as he imagined his fork cutting into the succulent flesh while the fish begged and pleaded for mercy. “It reminds me of a friend I recently made the acquaintance of.”

  Damn those sea creatures, Tal thought as his stomach grumbled again. His body would love a little seafood, but his mind was still focused on the Mermans’ problems.

  “It’s okay,” the Vampire said, sounding a bit affronted, “but you have no need to worry. None of our restaurants serve the corpses of sentient beings.”

  He shot Tal a superior look that told the warrior Fae he had indeed made a huge faux pas. “I mean no insult,” Tal was quick to assure. He knew that you never pissed off the people who cooked your food, shod your horse, or made your weapons if you didn’t want str
ange things to happen. Like your horse bucking you off in the middle of a battle, your sword breaking in half when you were fighting an opponent, or you coming down with a case of the colon liquifier at an inopportune time. “It is just at this moment, dining on seafood does not appeal.”

  The Vampire shrugged his shoulders and gestured to the steam trays that were rapidly filled with fresh culinary offerings, before he handed Tal a laminated menu with the name of the restaurant written in bold lettering across the top. “There is plenty on the menu. Help yourself. By the way, welcome to Chimera and to Fresh Fantasies.”

  Then he turned and walked away, his business concluded.

  But before Tal could look down to decide what he would be dining upon, he felt an impossible magical signal. The Master Vamp he was watching walk away was now coming up on his rear!

  “Vampire,” he called, his voice serious as he prepared to gather his defensive energies. “Why is your Were double flanking me from behind?” Talcor didn’t have to turn to note that something was behind him and that it felt just like this Vampire, only different somehow.

  This was indeed strange magic the Vampire wielded, something that allowed a man not only to be in two places at one time but to change species, Tal decided as his senses identified the Were behind him. It was odd and mildly disturbing. Tal mentally recorded the phenomenon, something to ponder at a later date.

  He used his Elemental Earth magic to note the Werewolf’s position and was strangely glad that he had magicked himself clean, as the Were was sniffing at him like he was prey about to bolt. Tal was not afraid, but he was curious. This whole meeting was singular.

  “Just a precaution, warrior, one that you have convinced me is no longer necessary.” The Vampire gestured to the wolf behind Tal and walked away.

  Tal closely examined the wolf as he passed, noting that this Were was unusual indeed. “Vampire,” Tal called out, mentally agreeing with the man’s actions. “I am Talcor, First Son of the House of Aggression.” He nodded his head in respect. The man had an awesome magic that was not of his realm, he was sure. But the man also used it in the protection of his property, which was something to admire. If Tal had been anything other than what he was, a warrior of the House of Aggression and in his prime, he could have been dealt a swift end by the males who seemed to run Fresh Fantasies, so strong was their magic.