Tied: A Crown and Anchor Novella

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Tied: A Crown and Anchor Novella Page 5

by Kerri Ann


  “Could you please close the blinds?”

  “I love the moonlight when I fuck,” he states matter-of-factly.

  “Okay.” I’m worried, but too drunk and randy to care.

  “Ready?”

  Oh God, yes. “Yes,” I say, biting my lip.

  Feeling the head of his cock resting at my entrance, I rock a little at the taunting. Once he’s seated, the stretch feels fantastic as it fills me up. Grunting, Marcus reaches to grip my hip in one hand and my cock in the other.

  “Oh my, that’s good. You’re so tight.” He rocks back and forth, pumping his hips against mine.

  “Faster, please. Harder.” Moving with a quicker tempo, my body accepts his girth with no issue. Sweating to a steady beat, I enjoy the harsh pump.

  With my face rubbing the wood table, I think of the last time. Carli had to add a ton of concealer to fix it. Lifting my head, I rest on my elbows on the table to push my ass higher, changing the angle. That is amazing. I’ll remember that for another time.

  “Oh!” I yell out. “Faster, Marcus!” Pushing my ass back, Marcus strokes my cock in time to his movements.

  Pistoning harder, my orgasm rises fast. Rubbing hard, then soft, my balls tighten as I know I’m close to release. I try to hold it off, but this angle is pulling it free.

  “I’m gonna come. I’m—” Unable to finish the sentence, I fall apart with my release. Not far behind, Marcus follows suit as his body chases mine down the rabbit hole.

  “That was fun,” he states, leaning against me, breathing heavily.

  I laugh. “You can say that again."

  Chris

  “Would you like a drink?” I ask as Marcus releases my hands from the shackles.

  Gathering his clothing, he wanders off as I put the restraints away. “I’m good right now,” he calls out, walking off to clean up in the bathroom.

  Grabbing a bottle of water out of the minibar, I wander around naked, checking out the night skyline. My hotel is in the center of Manhattan, across from a few others, and it’s funny, at this hour there’s still a few lights on in the adjacent building.

  Guzzling the bottle down, sucking moisture back into my soul, Marcus steps out of the bathroom -- fully clothed.

  “You’re leaving?”

  “Yeah. Sorry, duty calls.”

  Duty? “Sorry?”

  Tossing his shoes on, he stand and quickly unlocks the door to the hall. I walk over as he’s exiting at light speed.

  “Yeah.” With a quick kiss on the cheek, Marcus steps out. “Thanks for the news story, Governor.” Waving his phone in the air, Marcus walks off with an air of superiority. “Don’t worry, it’s already uploaded to the news center, and the guy across at the other building has it too. Have a nice night.”

  I look across at the adjacent building. “Are you fucking kidding me!” I yell. I chase him out into the hall. I bet the fucker never thought I’d follow him naked into a public space.

  “Look. You knew sooner or later it was going to come out. It couldn’t stay hidden forever.” Halting him, I slam his body up against the wall and throw a punch into the drywall by his head. Better it than him. Because right now, I want to pummel the fuck out of him.

  “Remove it. Recant it. Pull the story back.”

  He gives me a snide grin. “Can’t. Won’t say you weren’t a good fuck, but I can’t lose such a juicy story.”

  That was the last thing he should have said. Gripping his phone, I bend it until it breaks and pull out the sim card. Cracking it in half, hoping he hadn’t fully uploaded the file. Maybe I can save a bit of face.

  Honestly, he’s right. I never thought I’d get away with it this long. I figured that my ass would’ve been in the tabloids long ago if not for—

  Fuck! I need to call Carli and see if she can help me on this.

  Shit. She’s not my girl for this shit. Doris isn’t the right woman for the job either. Thinking to look at my watch, I remember I’m not wearing it.

  “Can I go now, man? You can’t do shit to me.”

  Wanting to toss Marcus out the fifteenth story window, or pulling the elevator doors open and sliding him down an open shaft crosses my mind.

  “You bet I can.” Slamming a fist to his gut and two to his face, Marcus buckles. As his ass hits the floor, unconscious, I feel better and worse. The alcohol has definitely worn off after this round of endorphin and adrenaline release, but I’m seething with a need to kill someone.

  Leaving him to lie in his own pool of despair, I walk back to the room. Sauntering back into the hallway, I find it bustling with nosey guests, checking out the commotion in the hotel. I’m naked and asking for the attention. There’s not much I can do to fix this. I might as well stand proudly as the large, intimidating black man I am. Gay or not, I’m a hulking fucker that usually scares the masses.

  “Go back to bed,” I say, not caring an iota what they think of me.

  Reaching my room, I remember I don’t have a key card. I stomped out without it. Mainly because I don’t have pockets. Unless you count my asshole. And it’s already taken a hit tonight.

  Chris

  After pounding on the door until it cracked wide open, the steam still flies off me in thick tendrils. Yeah, I didn’t do my due diligence when it came to a man and a big cock in New York.

  I guess I followed one rule of Carli’s—glove and love. Cock in a sock. On that I did good. Thinking what this can do to my career, to my life, and to my own personal bubble, I fucking failed. I should’ve been smarter. All I can do is wait for the entertainment shows, newsfeeds and C-SPAN laughing at my ass.

  “Well, shit. I might as well turn on the news to hear of my impending resignation.” Not that I think sexual preference should be a reason to oust someone, but I have the feeling that the right-winged politics of Indiana will induce my political death by ‘internet stoning’.

  I’m not expecting sleep tonight, at least not after that. I expect to have a pair of New York officers in my room, politely asking me to accompany them to the station within the hour. “No use in wallowing. Maybe I can help myself,” I mutter as I close the blinds. Grabbing up clean clothes and showering quickly, I decide a better course of action than curling up to die is to devise a plan.

  Dialing the front desk, I ask to be connected to the room of another governor, and I’m happy when he picks up on the third ring. Going over the particulars, he offers me some sound advice. Once we're done, I ring the front desk.

  “Just one moment, sir. I’ll get him on the phone for you,” the lady on the other end informs me.

  As I wait an exorbitant amount of time, I finally hear, “Troy Mason. How are you this fine morning, Mr. Rock?”

  Explaining the circumstances of my situation, his tone quickly changes in understanding the gravity of my situation. “Well, I’ll let you know as soon as I can get you an answer. Hold tight.” Before hanging up, he says, “And Governor? I’ll let you know as soon as the boys in blue arrive. Please be presentable.”

  Hanging up, I blow out a heavy sigh of insanity, not relief, because I sure as shit don’t have that. I sit in the armchair watching the morning sky as it crests the buildings.

  Do I need Carli?

  Yep.

  Should I call her?

  Nope.

  Crap. I need to call Elaine. She needs to be prepared for the fallout. Dialing her number, the voicemail catches with her sweet, “Leave a message at the beep.”

  “Elaine, something’s happened and you need to know.” Explaining as much as I can in a short message, I tell her to prepare. To be honest, she’ll probably be relieved. She can go live her life without hiding me anymore. Not that I didn’t tell her over and over to do what she wanted, but she was dutiful because of her own values and needs. Elaine as a best friend loved me immensely. I was there when she needed someone to care for her and her daughter, and I think she felt she owed me.

  With my phone in my lap, sitting in the silence of the room, I watch the hues o
f the sun as they hit the metal and glass of the buildings. I think of how beautiful it is. In war, I never saw the beauty, only the destruction. In politics, you’re too busy to see the beauty, moving around too fast to comprehend any of it. And in life, I’ve sucked at seeing the little things that surround me.

  As my hotel phone rings, pulling me from my musings, I look at the local number. “Hello?”

  “What did I tell you!”

  “Thank you for calling me.”

  “Chris…and I’m calling you Chris instead of idiot…Chris, you fucked up. You royally fucked up.” She pauses for a moment. “I sure as hell hope he was a good fuck.”

  Before I can answer, Julia continues. “No. I don’t want to know that. Just do me a favor and shut the door. Don’t open it unless it’s the police, and even if it is, let them know your lawyer is on the way.”

  “Thank you, Julia.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, big man. I’ve yet to save your ass from the fire. Politics aside, I’ll do what I can. Hold tight. I’m coming.”

  Hanging up, sardonically to the vacant room, I chirp, “That was my line.”

  Chris

  Hanging up with Julia, I wait for the inevitability of the police as I contemplate my predicament.

  Yep. Fucked.

  Why couldn’t I be a regular, run-of-the-mill, heterosexual man that liked women and tits? Nah. I couldn’t. It had to be men, and men that liked to give me a good pounding. Now I’ll pay for that adoration.

  With a heavy knock at the door, I rise from my seat at the sunrise of my new life. Looking through the peephole, I find someone I wasn’t expecting.

  “Open the door, son.”

  As the cracked material creaks, I take in the older Texan. He’s dressed and ready for the day—gun holster and all.

  “No guns drawn today, okay, Tex?”

  He pushes his way past me. “No promises, kid. But I’ll try to only wing ’em.”

  “Better than I’d hoped for.” As I’m shutting the door, a heavy hand stops me.

  “Let us in too.”

  Pulling it back, I say sarcastically, “Great. You’re all here.”

  “Just good ol’ fashioned friends to help.” Allowing Fester to muscle his way through with Galen in tow, I shake my head.

  “Don’t look at me.” Galen yawns, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “They came n’ woke me up. Don’t even think the hangover started yet.” Yawning again and cracking his neck, Galen heads straight for the minibar. Pulling out a bottle of orange juice, he guzzles it down as I take in his appearance. I think he’s right. He’s still working on the drunk part.

  “So did you do as I said?” Bullet asks.

  “Yeah, I got that covered. Now I’m just waiting on the attorney. She should be here any minute.” I look at my watch. It’s been over an hour since I talked to her. Julia mentioned she lives just around the corner. As the door pops open, in saunters the woman in question. “And she’s here.”

  Taking in the room and looking at its inhabitants, Julia quirks her head side to side. “Needed to round out the gang, did we? Couldn’t just go for one hot mess, figured you’d add in a joke.”

  Slightly taken aback by her comment, I guess my confusion is written. “One night at a bar, there was a Texan, two southern Baptists, a gay black military --”

  “Ex-Military,” I correct.

  “Sorry. Ex-Military gay black man, and a jackass photog who needed to fuck his way to a story. See? Great joke in the making.” Placing her oversized, this year’s Louis Vuitton on the table, Julia starts pulling out paperwork. “So listen, I need to get a full rundown, start to finish. Nothing missing. From the moment that sleaze ball found you in Dangereux to the moment you redecorated the hotel. And you fine gentlemen, if you’re sticking around, might as well be useful.” Turning from Fester and Bullet, she looks at Galen, sipping his orange juice. “Except you. Go to sleep, you’re still drunk.”

  Throwing his hands in the air, “See! I told you,” Galen states placing his cup on the nightstand and curling into the covers. Within minutes Galen is snoring away.

  For the next twenty minutes, Julia gives me a rundown of what to do and what not to say. Running down every detail—except for those details—she listens intently. That was until the knock on the door.

  That’s when we all shut the fuck up.

  Tyler

  “Governor Chris Rock of Indiana had a most interesting trip to New York.” Hearing the announcement on the daily news as I’m shaving, it immediately gathers my attention. With the television in the other room, I bend my head around the wall, peeking at the screen.

  “This isn’t for children. Most of it is covered for posterity, but as you can see, the cameraman was able to get some very unsavory clips of the governor and a man that we believe is currently in the hospital after sustaining unknown injuries from the governor himself.”

  “What the fuck happened after I left?”

  When I’d left the club, Chris was sitting with a good looking guy up on the second level. I knew this because I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off him all night. Which pissed me off. He’s married, but I now knew for a fact, as does most of New York now, that he’s gay.

  Moving back to the mirror to finish up my left side, I mutter as I shave off the cream. “I was right. I was hoping I was wrong.” Not like I’m getting an answer from a mirror, but I still hate that I was right.

  Wiping off the excess and applying tonic and moisturizer, I finish up my morning ritual.

  “Mr. Rock will not be taking questions at this time. If you have anything you wish to ask, those questions will be answered by me, and me alone.”

  “Shit.” Julia is answering the press.

  “Nothing can be substantiated at this time regarding the incident, and we will be filing a countersuit for defamation of character, entrapment, and various other charges that I won’t be going into at this time. Thank you for your time. Governor Rock is very exhausted with this whole ordeal and will be needing a bit of space.”

  Seeing Chris, Julia, and a team of mismatched men standing alongside him in solidarity, I kind of feel bad for him. Checking the time on my watch, I see that I’m running late. Shutting off the TV, I get my things and head to the parking garage.

  While driving to the office, all I can think about is Chris.

  Chris

  “This is bullshit!”

  “Oh, you poor soul.” Julia isn’t sympathetic at all. “Do you need your blankie? Do you want a shoulder to cry on? Not happening. I’ll be here to make sure your ass stays out of jail, though I doubt you’d be adverse to the hand holding and kumbaya moments with a man named Donna. Just know, I’ll work really hard to make this all go away, but Chris, you’re going to have to spend a few hours in a holding cell.”

  That’s what she told me before I was hauled in for questioning.

  Julia, of course, answered all the ‘questions’ as I just stood there wanting to defend my rights, my actions, and my soul to the arrogant police woman who had a past with domestic assault. I in no way demean her past, but this wasn’t a domestic assault case from a jilted lover. She was highly off-base. He set me up, plain and simple.

  Walking out of the jail, it’s thankfully quiet. It seems I’ve had my ‘New York minute.’

  Venturing down the stairs, poised and commanding, the epitome of how a lawyer should look in every way, Julia is beautiful and strong. “Chris, you can’t stay at the same hotel, mainly because they didn’t want you back. And until your arraignment in two days, I need to keep better track of you, so I set up a new place for you to stay. Comprende?”

  I answer her quickly. “Okay.” Not only does she scare me a little, but clearly she was prompting me for an answer.

  Motioning for a taxi, one approaches us. Opening the door, she directs me to take a seat. “Chris, stay at the hotel. Don’t be seen, and for heaven’s sake, no late night visits from gentlemen callers.”

  “You mean hookers?”
<
br />   She leans casually on the door. “Yes, I mean hookers, young men, old men, men wearing tutus, women dressed as men. I mean anything with sexual organs. Stay on the low. Okay?”

  Quirking a brow, my expressions illuminate how I feel. They say, ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ and at the same time, I want to say ‘I’m not three and looking for a lolli, Mom.’

  “I’m not fucking around on this. No one.” She pushes the door closed. “I’ll have the hotel staff bring you bottles of lube and a donkey sized kong toy if it helps you keep your hands to yourself. Got it?” It’s not a question, but I nod my head anyway. “Good.” She quickly hands me her business card. “This has my private number on it, and my address if an act of God causes you to run out of pay-per-view porn.”

  Telling the driver where we’re going, Julia grins and hands him the cash. “Chris, I’ve taken down bad souls, and I don’t think you’re one of those. Let’s fight to save your asshole for better men.”

  Shaking my head, she steps away to the curb as we pull off down the street.

  Chris

  “Sign right here, please.” Indicating where to place my signature, I scribble my initials. “Have a nice night, sir,” the delivery man says, handing me the box.

  As I balance the box and close the door, I can’t help but wonder why I’m being sent a package. It’s from Julia, so it must be paperwork to go over. Using the edge of my keycard as a sharp point, I push the tape free. Lifting the top, the first thing inside is a note.

  To keep you busy, big guy.

  Julia

  What the hell did she send me?

  Pulling the wrapping back, the telltale paper gives it away before I even see the contents.

  “She wasn’t kidding,” I say to the empty room, laughing at the tiny woman’s audacity.

  Pulling each piece free, I inspect them. Sixteen ounce bottle of toy cleaner. Lulu lube in raspberry, cherry, and blueberry flavored. Like I’ll need that many flavors. A threaded butt plug—the size isn’t too bad—a prostate massager with an attached cock ring, and a ten inch, ribbed dildo.

 

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