Closer by Morning

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Closer by Morning Page 19

by Thom Collins


  Dale went up first while Matt cleared away downstairs. He rinsed the glasses and placed them in the dishwasher, then put the empty wine bottle on the bench by the back door. The recycling bin was outside. He would take it out in the morning.

  Just for a moment, through the kitchen window, he thought he caught sight of something pale. A face on the other side of the glass. It was gone as quickly as he saw it. A face? It couldn’t be. Could it? He turned off the kitchen light to make it easier to see and leaned in close to the glass. The darkness outside was almost absolute. He could barely make out the borders of the garden. There was no one there. It must have been a trick of the light. Or a cat. There were plenty of those around the estate.

  Or just his imagination.

  It was running away with him. Hardly a surprise. It was late, and with all this talk tonight about the Durham Strangler and poor Aaron… Well, he had a right to be jittery.

  He went up to bed.

  Dale was finishing in the bathroom. Stripped to just a tight pair of white briefs that were a perfect showcase for his beefy butt, he rinsed toothpaste and spat into the sink. Matt came up behind and slid his arms around his waist, leaning the side of his face against Dale’s shoulders. He squeezed, enjoying the warmth and hardness of his body.

  “We’ll get through this,” he said, kissing the golden skin of Dale’s shoulder. “I love you. And I’m going to be there for you. It’s Aaron and those other boys we should worry about. We’re alive. We’ve got our health and each other. Everything else we can deal with.”

  “What did I do to deserve you?” Dale said, pressed his bountiful ass back against Matt’s hips.

  Matt kissed a slow trail from his shoulders to the back of his neck. Dale shuddered. His skin broke into gooseflesh beneath his lips. “You’ll get everything you deserve,” he said, rubbing his hardened crotch against Dale’s ass.

  They separated and Matt finished in the bathroom, washing his face and brushing his teeth. He stripped to his underpants and followed Dale to the bedroom.

  Dale was waiting in the doorway with open arms. They wrapped around each other, mouths and bodies coming together. Matt was overcome by the instinct to protect him. He wanted to hold him, cover him, keep him safe from the storm that was brewing outside these four walls. His hands moved down Dale’s spine, to the small of his back, to his ass, pulling him even closer. Dale surrendered to him, giving in, wanting and needing that protection.

  Matt moved him toward the bed and lay him down carefully. He slipped his briefs over his hips. Dale raised his legs, yielding to Matt, looking up at him with wide, trusting eyes.

  Matt went down on him with complete tenderness. He drew his tongue slowly around his balls, attuned to Dale’s reactions, feeling his sac tighten and retract, seeing the hard shaft of his cock surge and jolt. Dale groaned and spread his thighs wide. Matt took his tongue lower, beneath his balls, tickling the seam of skin with just the tip of his wet tongue.

  “Oh God.” Dale sighed. He put his hands around the back of his knees and lifted his hips higher, leaving Matt in no doubt about where he wanted him to go.

  Matt kissed him. Soft, warm, intimate kisses. As intimate as two men could be. With a light, darting tongue, he teased the sensitive, opening and listened to Dale’s helpless gasps of ecstasy. He put his hands on Dale’s ass and spread him wider. He could have stayed down there all night, driving his lover crazy.

  “I want you,” Dale said desperately. “I need you inside me.”

  “Anything you want,” Matt said. He shoved off his underpants and scooted around the bed, hard dick bouncing. He took condoms and lube from the bedside cabinet and lay on top of Dale. Dale wriggled into position, lying on his back, between Matt’s knees. With his thighs wide open and lifted, his asshole offered a wet, glistening invitation. Matt squeezed lube onto his fingertips and carefully smeared it around Dale’s hot opening. Dale threw back his head, exposing his throat. Total surrender.

  Matt put on a condom and palmed his dick with even more lube. He wanted this to be perfect—painless. An act of love and commitment rather than lust.

  He entered slowly, pushing just enough to feel him give, then pausing, in complete control until Dale was ready, before easing in another centimeter. Deeper and deeper, he sank into Dale’s welcoming body. Dale reached for him, drawing him down into a kiss. Now Matt was thrusting into his mouth and ass. Their two bodies joined as a single unit. Dale wrapped his legs around his hips, digging his heels into Matt’s butt, drawing their bodies even tighter.

  Matt began to lose that mannered control as the sheer pleasure of his lover’s body consumed him. His thrusts became longer and deeper, feeling Dale with every inch of his dick. His whole cock tingled. Sweet, sweet torment—the most pleasurable itch that he didn’t ever want to scratch.

  “I love you so much,” he whispered, burying his head into Dale’s shoulder. He slid his hands beneath Dale, gripped his ass, pulled it higher and screwed him harder and deeper. Dale clung on tightly, taking everything he could give. Urging him further with animalistic groans.

  “Come inside me,” Dale sighed. “Let it all go. Come in me.”

  It took an exquisite age. Matt felt as if he were on the perpetual verge of orgasm. Each languid thrust took him closer without ever reaching end. It was like a roller coaster before the drop, teetering on the edge, suspended in time. Then suddenly the pull of gravity was too much. He was falling hard, coming fast. Blood roared through his ears as he spilled everything into the man he loved.

  Dale clung to him. Slowly, Matt pushed back onto his knees, leaving his dick inside. Dale gripped it tight and held on as he stroked his cock to rapid release. His body trembled violently, his ass even tighter and forced Matt’s cock out as orgasm racked his body.

  They collapsed together afterward. Laughing. A hot, sweaty, spunky heap.

  They rolled onto their sides and gazed at the ceiling, taking in huge chestfuls of air.

  “You’re right,” Dale said at last.

  “About what?”

  “Me. Jack. I’m going to call Laura in the morning. If she’s okay with me talking to him, I’ll speak to Jack when he gets home from school. Tell him exactly what his old dad is.”

  “His old dad is a great man. But he knows that already.” Matt rolled back onto his side, slid his hand across the flat hairy plane of Dale’s belly. He stared at his profile in the dim light of the bedroom. It overwhelmed him at times, just looking at Dale. He had never known what the man of his dreams would look like, but knew with certainty that he was looking at him now.

  “Hmm. I’ll have to think of how I’m going to explain to him about Aaron. That’s one thing I don’t want him learning second-hand.”

  “Tell him the truth. Aaron is a man you used to go out with and someone has done something very bad to him.”

  “That’s not exactly true,” Dale said, placing his hand on top of Matt’s, entwining their fingers. “Aaron and I never went out. We never went anywhere except my trailer. I’m not about to explain the concept of a fuck-buddy to a twelve year old.”

  “Tell him you liked him. That’s all you have to say. It’s enough, isn’t it?”

  “I guess it will have to be.”

  “What was he like? Aaron, I mean.”

  “He wasn’t you.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “Sorry. I can’t help feeling guilty. Angry too. He was a nice guy. Really. He was sweet, cute, funny. Some fella would have been very lucky to have him. He would have made a great boyfriend, I suppose. I never took the time to get to know him.”

  “Did the police say anything about what happened? Or what they think might have happened?”

  “Nah. I’m a suspect. They want me to tell them how I killed him, not the other way around.”

  “You won’t be a suspect tomorrow. Not after I tell them you were
with me all night.”

  “That depends on what really happened to Aaron,” Dale sighed. “On when he was taken. When he was killed.”

  Matt leaned against his side, holding him tighter. “It’s frightening, isn’t it? Someone is out there killing young men. Men like us. It’s unreal even talking about it. Like we’re discussing one of your movies rather than something real.”

  “Oh, don’t,” Dale said. “It’s bad enough already without bringing up the connection between ours scripts and the killings.”

  “There is no connection.”

  “It doesn’t feel like it. I’m playing a serial killer, then my buddy is offed in a very similar fashion.”

  “Sssh,” Matt said. “You don’t know that.”

  He sighed. “You’re right. I don’t know anything anymore.”

  Eventually they got under the covers and turned out the lights. Dale lay on his side and Matt spooned into his back, holding him, still feeling protective.

  “Try to get some sleep,” Matt said, pressing a soft kiss against the back of Dale’s neck. “We’ll get through this together.”

  Dale snuggled against him. “Together. That sounds good.”

  Despite everything that had happened, they both drifted into an easy sleep, safe in each other’s arms.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jamie did not waste any time. When Matt came out of the morning meeting, the phone in his office was ringing.

  “DC Dench is here to see you,” the receptionist told him.

  “Thank you, Monica. Send him up.”

  He should have known it would be Jamie. Seconded to the murder team, he would not pass up the chance to dig the knife into Dale and hinder their relationship.

  Through the open door, he saw Jamie come up the stairs. Annabel did a double take at the sight of him. He saw her greet him. Jamie returned the gesture with a non-committal nod and headed for his office. He closed the door behind him.

  “Is this really appropriate?” Matt asked. “Couldn’t they send someone else to take my statement?”

  “How do you know what I’m here for?”

  “Oh come on. Don’t waste my time. You’re here to check on Dale’s alibi. Can we just get on with it?”

  He looked rough. Sallow-skinned, with eyes even darker than usual, as if he wasn’t looking after himself. Though Matt didn’t buy it entirely. Jamie was the master of emotional blackmail. There was a message behind his appearance. It said, ‘Look what your new relationship is doing to me.’

  He took the seat across the desk.

  “Dale Zachary. What can you tell me about him?”

  “Besides what you can find out on Wikipedia? We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of weeks. But you know that much already, don’t you?”

  “A couple of weeks?” he sighed. “So that night I came round your house and you wouldn’t see me…?”

  Matt nodded curtly. “Yes. I was meeting Dale. It was our first date, if you really want to know. Does that make you feel better?”

  Jamie tutted. “You let me make a fool of myself.”

  Matt shook his head. This was typical of Jamie. He’d always had selective memory and a flair for painting himself as the wronged man. “You did that without any help from me. In case you don’t remember, I tried to stop you but you wouldn’t listen. You insisted on making a scene.”

  “I didn’t know I’d been thrown over for a movie star. Shit, it’s pretty hard for a regular guy to compete with that.”

  “Except you weren’t thrown over for him. We were finished months before I met Dale. You came round under your own steam that night. I didn’t invite you. Why would I? I’ve moved on, Jamie, it’s time you got that through your head. Now, I’ve got a busy day ahead, can we please get on with this. I know it’s just another false pretense for you to come here, but I’m sure you want to rule Dale out of your inquiry.”

  His brows came together angrily and he pulled his notebook from his jacket pocket. “What do you even know about this guy?”

  Matt banged his fist on the desk. “That’s not police business. So ask me a relevant fucking question.”

  “Was Dale Zachary with you on Monday night?”

  “Yes.”

  “From when?”

  “He came round after ten. When he got finished with the reception at the hotel. And he stayed until the following morning. He was with me all night. Okay?”

  Jamie didn’t look at him. “He’s been staying over a lot.”

  “Is that a question or a statement? Not that it has any relevance to your case, but yes he has.”

  Matt wanted him to go. He was sick of the anger that resurfaced whenever they were near each other. Jamie got off on provoking him. Matt had done his best to let him down gently and support him after their split, but he saw now what a mistake that had been. Jamie wasn’t the kind of ex-boyfriend you could remain friends with. He took every sign of friendship as a hint to try again, and every rejection of that led to a personal attack.

  “You know your movie star was involved with one of the victims? Sexually involved with him.”

  “Yes, I know that.”

  Jamie’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  “Yes. He told me all about it last night.”

  “Last night? Don’t you think that’s strange?”

  “No.”

  “He never mentioned him before?”

  “Why would he? I haven’t told him about you either. I don’t care who he knew before me or vice versa. He told me about Aaron because of what has happened to him.”

  “Matt,” Jamie spoke very slowly, as if he were talking to a child. “Did he ask you to cover for him? To say you were with him on Monday night when you weren’t?”

  “No. And I think you know me better than that. Like I’m going to make myself an accessory to murder for anyone. Dale was with me on Monday, all night. Now if you expect me to give you a minute-by-minute account of the time we were together, you’re badly mistaken.” Matt stood up. “I think we’re done here, Jamie. If your boss wants more information than I’ve given he can send another police officer to interview me. And when he asks why it’s inappropriate for me to talk to you, I’ll tell him exactly why.”

  Jamie put away his book but made no attempt to leave.

  “I’m only looking out for you,” he said softly. “I wish you would realize that. You’re at risk. Don’t you see? You’re exactly the killer’s type. Do you really think it’s a good time to invite strange men into your home? Especially one who was the lover of the latest victim.”

  He was like a damn terrier. He didn’t give up. “I’m not inviting men into my home. Just one man. And, as I’ve clearly proved, he is not the one throttling these boys and throwing them in the river.” Matt came out from behind the desk, crossed the room and opened the door. “Your time is up. I’ve got work to do.”

  Jamie rose angrily. “You can be a real bitch, you know that?”

  Matt closed his eyes and took several deep breaths before saying. “Goodbye, Jamie. Don’t come back. If you try to question me again I will speak to your inspector. You’ll find yourself off the investigation pretty quickly.”

  With his eyes still closed, he felt the draught as Jamie thundered out.

  He hadn’t made it back to his desk when Annabel hurried into the office. “What did he want?” she said excitedly. “More to the point, what did you say to him? I’ve never seen him look so angry. I thought he was going to punch the wall as he went out.”

  “Long story,” Matt sighed. “He overstepped the mark.”

  “I don’t have to be in court until eleven.” She grinned, slipping into the chair Jamie had just vacated. “So give me the slightly condensed version of that story.”

  ****

  Keeley Rank snapped impatiently at her lighter until the cigarette c
aught and she paced the pavement in front of her hotel, sucking in smoke. It was downright ridiculous that you couldn’t smoke inside, not even in the privacy of her own room. She’d been tempted to open the bathroom window and light up there, but they had installed bloody detectors in the toilet too. There were signs all over the hotel stating smoking would not be tolerated. She considered doing it anyway, just to see what would happen, but it wasn’t worth the hassle. There was too much going on right now without trying to find another place to stay.

  In a royal-blue trouser suit, with her customary nest of lacquered hair, she was a striking sight as she stalked back and forth, frequently checking the time on her chunky gold watch.

  Her mobile phone rang. She threw her cigatette butt into the gutter and answered with a curt, “Keeley Rank.”

  Pressing the phone tight against her ear, Keeley listened carefully. Her heavy scowl began to relax. Her eyes softened and very slowly the corners of her mouth curled into a smile. When she finished the call she was beaming.

  Yes. Brilliant. Fucking brilliant.

  She knew she’d made the right call, listening to her instincts and hanging in there, waiting for the story to emerge.

  And what a story it was turning out to be.

  Her police contact, a hard bitch called Shona, had not only come through, but had struck gold. So much gold she owed her a nice backhanded bonus. Ha.

  She had to act fast. So far there were no other journalists on the story like she was. Right there, with intimate access. It wouldn’t stay that way for long. There was no honor among thieves or coppers. Their story would be leaked to other hacks for a price.

  Keeley strutted back into the hotel and waved at the concierge. “Get me a taxi,” she snapped. “Now.”

  Ten minutes later, she was at the gates of the TV studio. There were a couple of uniformed cops keeping vigil beside the regular security team. The studio staff waved her through.

 

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