by Talon p. s.
Darko reached for Maxum taking his jaw in his hand and pulled him around to look at him, their eyes meeting in the darkness. Lonely, pained eyes, “Not at all?”
Maxum shook his head slowly, the words came out drained almost lethargic and definitely defeated. “I tried to cuddle with him. I wanted to hold his hand. I wanted my relationship with my partner to feel like this. Connected. Only no matter how hard I try or look to have it there with him, I can’t find it. I want someone to be forever in my life. I’m an investor. I want my home and sex life to be the same as my money. I don’t want a stranger in my bed. I don’t want to start all over with a new face and new pet peeves every couple of weeks or months. I don’t do short term investments. I want the same man day in and day out to build and grow old with. And I failed.”
“Maybe it never existed? A shady investment. Or its life has perished? Company went belly-up. Or you found something that feeds your life better than anything else ever has before. A new up and coming company or idea that has the future in mind like green energy.” He paused in thought, pulling up more metaphors to fit, “Life changes around every bend. Investments have to have a flex fund, don’t they?” Darko dropped on the pillow, still looking at the man looking back. He would have laughed at himself for the analogy he’d just given. Frankly, he didn’t know squat about investments. On the other hand, he knew friends and family, so it was only matter of changing out a few words to turn it into Maxum St. Laurents laymen terms.
Maxum turned his eyes back up at the ceiling, his thoughts ironing out until the ticker tape in his head came out blank. While everything Darko said made sense. He still didn’t have a clue what to do with himself or the partnership that had given him no satisfaction in almost as many years as they had been together. Or with the man who laid at his side right now who had given him all he would have liked in those years in just a matter of two weeks. To top it all off, Darko made more sense in his prattling attempt to put things into perspective than any attempt Simeon might have ever made. Then again, he couldn’t think of a time when Simeon gave much concern for his thoughts. At least not lately. Okay, not in a long time.
Maxum tossed the disgruntled shit from his mind; repositioned and glanced at Darko and the face watching sideways from his pillow. “So what can I expect on our third date?”
A smile sprouted from the pillow, “Funny thing you should bring it up. Wanna take off with me this coming weekend?”
“It’s Thanksgiving weekend.” Maxum blinked at him at the unexpected holiday invite.
“Precisely, perfect time to get away from it all. Good food, lay around all day— I’ll let you take full advantage of me— or whatever we want.”
“We?”
“Yes, we. It’s an interesting concept, the word we.” The offer slowed as Darko’s eyes started to drift closed and actually began to drift back to sleep. “Sleep. No demands tonight.” He whispered lastly.
Maxum rolled to his side, inching back into arms that took a natural position around his waist and hugged him before turning heavy with sleep. He hadn’t expected this. It was what he needed, to just be with someone who understood. Who would lay with him and not demand anything. Yet he could not refute that Darko was like pure grain alcohol to an alcoholic. Outside of being unexpected, Maxum wasn’t sure how to decipher it. The man burning in his lust was stepping outside the bounds of his definition of a drug. As much as he fought the idea, it was hard not to feel anything but an apex of bliss, nestled against Darko. As if the man had been machined to precision perfection for just him. Getting away doing whatever we want to do, in some gay friendly bed-n-breakfast. It sounded like the best offer he’d been given. Then maybe he’d be able to just fuck the man out of his system once and for all, then get on with his life without him. He closed his eyes feeling his mind drift, maybe that would happen, but admittedly he still needed a little more of this man, have his fill of him before calling it to an end.
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CHAPTER SEVEN
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THANKSGIVING DAY WITH THE LASZKOVI FAMILY
Maxum drove up to the address he was given. He glanced out the window to the dwelling, that even for Astoria, wasn’t the typical townhome, but home it mostly definitely was as in private residence. He glanced at his GPS as if perhaps it was trying to fool him or something. “Was this not supposed to be a bed and breakfast?” he asked it as if Gladys, as he’d named the GBS unit, would actually answer.
While here was far from anything Maxum was expecting, the place was certainly a gem to have. Standard in the way of being the common Astoria brick upright townhome yet that’s where the standards left off. For starters, four stories high and four windows wide meant two rooms across. A set of stairs led up to the front door on the second level as well as a utility entrance down on the ground floor. The real bonus though, was the gated driveway with parking spaces both in front and, since the driveway went down along the side of the townhouse, meant there was more around back, too. Along the sides of the building, he spotted two more sets of windows centered in the middle, but only on the upper two floors. Two bedrooms across and three down.
Maxum growled, scrubbing his hand across his face as he began to seriously contemplate turning around and leaving. He distinctly remembered Darko saying he had ten brothers and sisters. A townhouse with twelve rooms— yeah— he didn’t need Gladys to explain any further for him. He was just about to pull off when his phone range. It was Simeon. He stared at it while it both rang and vibrated in its holder on the console. Simeon had called yesterday. Not last week, not over the weekend, not Monday—yesterday— to make sure he was going to be there for his Thanksgiving social at the condo. It would be just like last year. Him and about six or eight flaming queers, he didn’t know. His fingers swiped roughly over his lips and gripped at his chin recalling his discomfort. Sure, they were all gay and they all had a commonality, but he had to ponder if perhaps they were still very different. After all, you don’t compare a jaguar with a fluffy Persian cat do you?
The phone went silent and Maxum felt some relief as the stress of the ringing went with it. Was it bad that he tensed up every time Simeon called? Was it just his own failure as a man trying to be in a relationship or was it really over and done with between him and Simeon? He glanced back out at the large home of brothers and it struck him how walking in there wasn’t nearly as agitating to his system as the thought of going over to Simeon’s to eat some strange mutated vegetarian concoction that he would call duck. Afterwards, he would sit quietly and listen to Sim brag about this or that in front of his friends. At some point Sim would even lean over his lap and pat his thigh, perhaps make one of those— isn’t that right dear— type remarks as if he were actually included in the conversation.
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Darko was wrestling with his older brother Pyotr over a prized cluster of red grapes when Darko’s phone started ringing from his pocket. He pulled it out seeing Maxum’s id on the screen. He held a hand out to ward off his brother while he took the call, “Hey, are you on your way?”
“I’m already here and you better have a damn good explanation as to where here is.”
“Pull through the gate. I’m coming down.” Darko hung up, instantly going to the wall and hit the codes that would signal the courtyard gates to open to let him in.
“Hey!” Pyotr called after him. Darko ground to a halt at the top of the stairs, turning to glance at his brother, just in time to catch the string of grapes Pyotr had tossed at him.
“First kiss has the most bearing.” Pyotr winked at him.
Darko tugged at his ear, giving his brother a sheepish look. “Sorry to say, but we’re well past the kissing. We’re up to fucking now.” He added a little wriggle to his brows playfully.
“You’re one move away from losing him right now for dragging him to a family reunion. You’re gonna need that sweet kiss to stay his ass.”
A deep grin melted over his face
, “Thanks Pyotr.” He popped several of them in his mouth smiling when the sweet red flavor burst on his tongue. Then dashed down the stairs to catch his lover before he could escape.
“Did you teach all your brothers the tricks of sex?” Cliff asked from the table where he had been watching the wrestling match.
Maggie brushed past Cliff, her hand patting him on the back, “Yes, he did.” She spoke with a note of gleeful experience.
Pyotr conferred with a wicked gleam, none to shameful either.
Downstairs, Darko rushed out just as Maxum was getting out of his car. Darko couldn’t help but put on the brakes to take in the sharp image of the man and his shiny machine. He kept back a moment just enjoying the view with a wry smile all his own— Damn if he didn’t love looking at that man— like his machines, Maxum was built of precision lines. Muscles proportioned his body perfectly like an athlete not a body builder, exotic and unclassified. And always smoldering hot. “Another?” he finally stepped out toward him.
“I collect them.” Maxum’s answer was short, though it still held a note of sportive sarcasm. They both knew damn well he did.
“So what are you, rich or something?” Dark smirked at him.
“Or something.” Maxum eyed Darko tightly. He was two seconds from turning around and leaving, but the sight of Darko was too tempting to leave behind. His dark hair was tossed as if it’d never been brushed this morning. The muscles in his arms looked pumped like they did when the two of them would get rough and he had to wonder if his strange lover had been inside working out or tussling with another man. The notion alone agitated him.
Darko could see the dark displeasure in the man’s eyes, he approached cautiously directing his attention to the car Maxum had arrived in and now stood alongside. The Ford Tungsten GT. He’d seen one in a magazine before but it looked even more striking up close. He walked along its length, letting his fingertips glide along the curves. He liked this one. Sleek. Sexy. The smoky colored tungsten steel made it look mean like the man who drove it. Maxum for all his sleek and sexy exterior, looked like a man who could rule the world with his little finger— and Darko had it on first hand, the man could screw you to a wall with his dick.
It was likely, the only thing Maxum was afraid of, was him— but Darko had no intentions of letting his knight-in-shiny-tungsten-armor running away this time. He stopped with little more than one arms length between them, “So how many cars do you have anyways?”
Maxum shrugged, “Well, not nearly as many as say, some of the more famous collectors, but enough to need my own garage.”
“Garage?” Darko stepped in front of him now closing the space between them with a mischievous grin. “Garage space is always at a premium in New York. I wonder—” He tilted his head down then glanced at him from under predominant brows. “How much would you charge for a space?”
Maxum was still trying to hang on to his irritation, but he couldn’t stop himself from playing the game of banter with Darko, since they were both just so damn good at it. “A couple of blow jobs and several hard-fuckings a week at least.”
“Hmmm— that’s kinda expensive.” Darko brushed Maxum’s hip with his hand, “But, I think I can swing it. I’d have to probably put in extra hours, though.” He glanced around, but didn’t see an overnight bag with Maxum, which side-tracked his implications. “Where’s your bag?”
Maxum huffed then, “I’m not staying.” He retreated from Darko’s touch, but only enough to lean back against the mustang. “You see, when you mentioned you wanted me to spend the weekend with you, I figured you were luring me to some Astoria hidden treasure. Like maybe a bed-n-breakfast that just happened to be gay friendly.” He cocked his head with a suspicious expression. His eyes darted over the four-story house that loomed behind them. “This doesn’t look like a bed-n-breakfast.”
Darko leaned in, pressing the man into the car and brushed his lips over Maxum’s. His voice dropping an octave, turning husky, “Well the bed is inside—” he licked out with his tongue to tease Maxum, “and it is definitely gay friendly.” And then Darko kissed him, a deep lingering embrace of his lips to deliver the taste of his tongue to the other man that was both sweet as the red grapes and intensely hungry. Darko shoved into him harder as he pushed past his lips, into the hot cavern of Maxum’s mouth, and inhaled him all at once. His tongue was everywhere, possessing, tasting— branding.
In an instant, Maxum’s body lit up, blood tingling and his arms coiled around Darko’s body, locking on. Darko’s fists clutched at his starched white shirt, grabbing the collar to pull him closer. Darko was everything he remembered— full of unrefined finesse. Power and steel, covered in hot, butter-soft leather. Insistent— and more. Never had a man’s kiss alone made Maxum want to throw down right where he stood and make love as he did with this man. Darko made him long to be closer to him in every way.
Maxum ran his hands down Darko’s body, feeling every bulge of his shoulders, every ripple of his chest. His palm flitted down the rippling six-pack— and kept descending. Oh— so —slowly, he dragged his hand over the other man’s erection. Darko hissed in a shocked breath, breaking the kiss, and hardened against Maxum’s touch.
Smiling, Maxum reached for his fly.
Darko groaned. “If you’re not planning on staying, we—”
Maxum palmed him again, silencing him with a squeeze around his trapped cock, and then flicked the button of his pants open. He pushed the zipper down, a bare rasp in the otherwise quiet. Maxum found Darko’s cock straining up passed the waistband of his briefs and he ran his thumb over the sensitive crest already leaking with pre-cum.
Darko’s head pressed against his with a deep surrendering huff, “Damn it, I love it when you touch me.” Darko groaned some more. He grabbed Maxum’s jacket up in his fists and started walking backwards towards the door, towing the man with him. He released him only long enough to fumble with the door handle behind him, got it open, and resumed the deep probing of their kiss, dragging Maxum into the house. They were no sooner through the doors into the downstairs rec room that Darko was pushing his jeans open, then dropped a hand on Maxum’s shoulder forcing him to his knees. “Dammit, I want you to suck me.” he demanded, with a low and throaty growl. Maxum didn’t hesitate giving him what he wanted. His tongue eagerly darted out and licked over the broad tip of his cock, whipping around the partially skinned mushroom cap of the swollen red gland. Maxum took him all the way in his mouth, surrounding the man’s cock with a tight suction of his cheeks while his tongue made vicious work over the sensitive nerves.
He drew out letting it pop free of his lips and replaced it with his fist stroking Darko from base to tip, sliding the foreskin down the shaft away from the gland, then moved in, running his mouth down the side of the throbbing shaft, up and down, over and over. His fingers groping over the engorged gland smearing the leaking precum as he did so. He leaned back just taking in the site of Darko’s erection now swathed in his saliva. Damned if the man didn’t have a gorgeous cock. A good eight or nine inches, thick and riveting with veins that pulsed with red blood. He pulled Darko’s stiff shaft down from his belly, sucking the mushroom cap into his lips. He gnawed at it tenderly before releasing it, letting it slap back to his belly. Darko groaned his hands slapping to the wall to steady himself. He could hear the strangled curse to keep back any commands just yet.
Maxum wanted so much more of the meal. Simeon was small in every way and actually didn’t like Maxum lavishing any attention on his cock other than a simple hand job and only then while he was shafting him from behind. Simeon for all his gloriously gay cliché wished he’d never had a dick at all but unwilling to undergo the sex change.
Maxum had no problems being a man that liked to fuck other men. Moreover, Darko was pure raw man that fed that desire like no other had ever done for him. He closed in, burying his nose in the shallow nest of black hairs that nestled around Darko’s cock, inhaling the musky scent of his body, definitely all man. He tucked
down lower, licking over his balls sucking one in his mouth to roll over his tongue then the other, using his lips in a tight hold to pull at the tightening skin.
“Ahh, god.” Darko let out a husky growl, letting his head drop back into the wall. Damn the man had a mouth and knew what to do with it. He sucked on him hard with an all-encompassing demand. When Maxum was done, Darko knew he’d be little else, but a melted pup, willingly surrendered to anything the man would demand from him after this.
As much as he wanted to divulge the man his meal, his own needs couldn’t withstand any longer. He threaded his fingers into Maxum’s hair loving the soft silkiness against the calluses of his hand. He let the contrast distract him a moment longer, up to the point when Maxum took him all the way in and his slit kissed the back of the man’s throat. Every ounce of air spilled from his longs at the moment and a wave of unexplained pleasure and urge crashed over his body, and exploded at the same time. “Oh fuck.” His hips curled forward and Maxum’s hands were suddenly locked onto his hips, pinning him in place.
“No damn it.” Darko gasped, his every breath rasped through his larynx as his body pulsed with more need. If he didn’t start fucking the man’s mouth, his knees were likely to go weak under him. He needed some control in this. Darko bucked, trying desperately to pick up a rhythm that sank him onto the Maxum’s throat, but the more he pushed, the tighter Maxum’s grip became, until he backed off all together. Darko’s near bursting cock slapped against his belly and he hissed wildly. Needing Maxum’s mouth back.
“If you want me to stay, you’ll have to endure my craving fetish. And right now I need to eat your cock.” Maxum growled.