Tarot's Touch

by L. M. Somerton

  “You look beautiful with my marks on you.” Alex stalked around him. “Something more permanent would be nice. Maybe a piercing…”

  There was a soft knock at the door, and Conor breathed a small sigh of relief. Getting Alex off that line of thinking was almost worth the embarrassment of his situation as the room service waiter pushed a laden trolley into the room. The young man extracted a signature from Alex then left without so much as a glance in Conor’s direction.

  Alex lifted a couple of the shiny domed lids that covered plates on the trolley.

  “Wow, this looks amazing. Go and sit on the bed and I’ll bring the food over.” He poured two glasses of orange juice and handed one to Conor as he passed. Conor slipped beneath the covers and pulled them up to his waist, thankful that he had an excuse to cover up his revealing underwear. Alex pushed the trolley to his side of the bed and joined Conor, after plumping up his pillows.

  “We have warm bagels with cream cheese and smoked salmon, then strawberries to follow.”

  “You ordered my favorites! This is why I love you so much.” Conor leaned across Alex, eager to get his hands on a bagel.

  Alex chuckled. “There’s fresh coffee too. Do you want some or are you happy with juice?”

  “Juice is fine,” Conor mumbled around a mouthful of perfect, soft bagel. “I didn’t realize I was this hungry.”

  “Well, I did give you quite a workout last night and I don’t suppose you ate very much yesterday.” Alex sipped his juice and gave Conor an appraising look. “Do you feel better?”

  Conor looked down. “You’re not talking about the food, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Well, yes, much better thank you. You judged what I needed perfectly…as always.” He sighed. “When I thought the killer had you, I panicked. Everything just seemed so overwhelming. I needed someone to take all responsibility away from me, make decisions for me. Last night was perfect…not to mention hot as hell! We should come here more often.”

  Alex gave him a slow, lazy smile that sent chills tingling up Conor’s spine.

  “I’m sure that can be arranged.”

  “When do we have to check out?” Conor felt very hot and bothered.

  Alex eyed him in a way that suggested he would quite like to repeat the previous night’s performance right there and then. “We have a couple of hours. I told Higgs we’d be back for the afternoon shift.”

  Conor looked at him from under his lashes. “I don’t think my arse can take another lashing, love.”

  “No whips, I promise. But I do intend to tie you down and fuck you until you beg for mercy.” Alex ran his tongue along his lower lip, picking up a stray fleck of cream cheese.

  He didn’t do anything else and the anticipation of what he might do was turning Conor into a nervous wreck. Alex’s shorts were tented, and Conor couldn’t find any way to sit comfortably he was so hard. He fidgeted nervously and that widened Alex’s smug grin even further. “Lie down. Hands over your head.”

  Conor swallowed audibly. “I don’t…”

  Alex growled, and Conor rapidly shuffled down the bed so that he could lie flat. He extended his arms over his head and grabbed hold of the intricate wrought iron headboard.

  Alex slipped out of bed and had a good rummage in the toy drawer.

  “Hmm. Rope for a change, I think. Something nice and tactile.”

  He pulled out a coil of rough cord. “Perfect, this will leave some pretty marks.” He stalked back to the side of the bed and yanked the covers down.

  Conor would have loved to cover his groin with his hands but didn’t dare move them from their position above his head. Disobedience might lead to denial and that thought was unbearable. He really wanted to come. Alex shook out the rope and looped it around Conor’s wrists several times, drawing them tightly together. The gray metal bracelet that Conor wore sat snugly above the ties. The loose ends then went around the headboard in a complicated knot. He hummed happily to himself as he worked.

  “Fuck, you look stunning. Bondage suits you. I need to tie you up more often.”

  Conor squirmed. He tugged experimentally at his bonds but they were tight and immoveable. The feeling of being restrained and knowing that Alex loved it as much as he did had Conor’s cock fighting the thong with some determination.

  “That underwear is looking a little snug.” With one quick tug, Alex pulled the garment free. Poppers snapped open, and Alex launched the thong across the room.

  Conor rolled his eyes. “You enjoyed that far too much.”

  “Can’t deny it.” Alex’s pale eyes glinted. “We’ll be taking that one home with us.”

  Conor moaned. The air on his overheated shaft felt good but he craved stimulation. Jerking his hips did no bloody good at all.

  Alex turned his back and moved the dishes around on the room service trolley. Conor couldn’t see what he was up to but once he was done, he stripped off his shorts so Conor didn’t really care. Alex’s back view was a work of art. The gentle curve of his spine joined sexy broad shoulders to an arse that should have a preservation order slapped on it. Before Conor’s mind could convert the slapping part of that image to something more tantalizing, Alex climbed on to the bed and pushed his legs roughly apart.

  “Spread for me, baby, I want to admire you.”

  His impressive erection swayed above Conor’s stomach. Conor shuffled his legs farther apart, and Alex knelt between them. He leaned forward and pressed a strawberry against Conor’s lips. Conor bit into the ripe fruit and sweet juice flooded his taste buds. The berry tasted perfect, and Conor’s tongue curled in delight.

  Alex then pressed the uneaten portion of the fruit into Conor’s aching nipple. Juice trickled down his chest and Alex dragged a finger through it before applying his new toy to Conor’s other nipple. He took turns sucking first one then the other before kissing Conor hard. He gave him a wicked look then scooted down the bed to retrieve another berry. This time the juice was squeezed in a cool dribble the length of Conor’s cock.

  “Oh God!” Conor bucked his hips as Alex followed the juice with his tongue, lapping at the sweet stickiness.

  When it was gone and Conor was crying with frustration, Alex took a third berry and pressed the fruit around Conor’s hole, rimming him with cool pulp.

  “What are you do—?”

  Alex shoved a pillow under Conor’s hips and buried his face between Conor’s thighs, sucking and licking at the remains of the fruit. Conor screamed as Alex’s tongue breached him again and again. He came hard, spattering his release across his own chest.

  Alex raised his head and grinned smugly. “Oh good, cream to go with the strawberries!” He slung Conor’s legs onto his shoulders, lined up his cock and drove into his channel.

  Conor hadn’t seen him apply lube but there was only a slight burn as he thrust forward, filling Conor completely.

  “Alex!” Conor knew that the whimpers and moans he heard were his own. The deep grunts belonged to Alex as he drove home his claim, pounding Conor’s arse mercilessly until his release flooded Conor’s passage.

  Alex rolled to one side. “Fuck! I think I’ve just proven that strawberries are an aphrodisiac.”

  Conor managed a noise that was somewhere between a giggle and a sob. He felt like he’d strained every muscle in his body and the sore lines on his arse burned from rubbing against the sheets. The ropes binding his wrists hadn’t loosened at all.

  “Untie me, Alex.”

  Alex looked down on him. “Nope. Something I need to ask you first, while you can’t get away from me.”

  I must be imagining things, he looks nervous. The expression that put little lines of anxiety around Alex’s eyes was momentary, but rare enough that Conor couldn’t fail to notice it.

  “What’s going on, Alex? What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing’s the matter.”

  Conor tracked Alex as he crossed the room and delved into his bag. He came back to the bed and knelt across Conor’s
hips. Alex’s dick had already revived and it twitched as he settled, resting his arse on his heels.

  “I have something for you.”

  Conor strained to see as Alex produced a black velvet box and held it up. He clicked the lid open, exposing two smoky metal rings that nestled there alongside a matching wristband.

  Conor’s mouth went dry. He stared at his lover as Alex took a deep breath, then spoke, “Conor. You know I’m not good at the gushy stuff, so I’ll cut to the chase. You’re the love of my life. Sweetheart…will you marry me?”

  Conor gasped and tears welled in his eyes. “Untie me, you big lug!”

  Alex shook his head. “Oh no. Not until I have an answer.” He let his weight pin Conor down.

  “Yes! Yes, of course I will! I love you!” Conor couldn’t hold back the tears.

  “You’re not just saying that so I’ll untie you?” Alex had a silly grin all over his handsome face.

  “Alex!”

  “Okay. I believe you. Just a minute.”

  Alex jumped off the bed, grabbed his wash bag and retrieved a pair of pliers. He used them to break the gray metal band from Conor’s wrist before replacing it with the new one. He snapped it shut and slipped the key back into the box. Then he relented and undid the ropes.

  “Consider that your engagement ring. It doesn’t come off. Ever.”

  Conor reached for Alex and pulled him down into a hug that threatened to crush his rib cage. Then he kissed him. Thoroughly. He tasted of strawberries.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Alex and Conor arrived back at work after lunch and carried on as if nothing had happened. Alex escorted Conor to the incident room and stayed for a cup of coffee while Higgs gave him an update on the morning’s work. If Sergeant Higgs wondered about the smug grin that Alex couldn’t remove from his face, he had the good sense not to say anything. Higgs, ever practical, accepted the situation with grace and got on with the job.

  With stolen sideways glances, Alex kept watch on Conor as he settled at his desk. He seemed calmer and happier than he had been in weeks, though he fiddled constantly with the new band around his wrist. It fitted more snugly against his skin than its predecessor and Alex loved the look of the dark, smoky metal against Conor’s pale skin.

  He caught Conor’s eye and watched a rosy pink blush flush his cheeks. Conor ducked his head and stared hard at whatever piece of paper sat on his desk. Alex chuckled.

  “What’s funny, boss?”

  Alex turned back to Higgs. “Nothing. Nothing at all. I’d better get back to my office and check my messages. I’ll see you later.” He made his escape as quickly as possible, not daring to look back at Conor. Happiness lightened his step as he bounded up the stairs and strolled back to his office. Even the sight of the huge pile of paperwork sitting in his in-tray couldn’t dampen his spirits.

  “He said yes!” He danced around the desk then plonked himself down in his chair and spun it around. “I’m getting married!” He froze. “Oh fuck… I’m getting married! My head’s going to explode if I don’t think about something else. Work. That’s the answer.” He scowled at his files. “Don’t think finding enough of that’s going to be a problem.”

  * * * *

  It was late afternoon when the phone rang. Immersed in his work, Alex dropped his pen in shock at the sudden, harsh sound.

  He chuckled and grabbed the receiver.

  “Alex Courtney, how can I help?”

  “Inspector Courtney? Sir, is that you?”

  “Yes, it is. I’m pretty sure I know my own name.”

  “Oh, sorry, sir. It’s just that you sounded completely different. This is PC Naylor. We met at your crime scene the other day.”

  Alex had a flashback to the young, soggy constable who had discovered the first body.

  “Yes, I remember. It’s Matt, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What can I do for you, Matt?” Alex caught the phone cord between his fingers and twisted it into a knot.

  “Well, this may be nothing, sir.” The young PC sounded hesitant.

  “Or it may be something. I won’t know until you spit it out, now will I?”

  “No, sir. Of course. I’ve been following your case—you know…it felt like I had a personal interest, having found the first body.”

  Alex made a non-committal grunt and swiveled his chair, yanking the phone across the desk.

  “Well, yesterday evening I visited the incident room just before I went on duty. Sergeant Higgs was kind enough to show me around… Umm, he knows my dad and that I’d like to try for CID one day.”

  He sounded a little embarrassed so Alex tried to project encouragement down the phone. “Okay, that’s a good ambition to have. So, what happened?”

  “Well, I was out on my usual beat last night. I took a walk past Arcania because it’s not far off my route. It’s all closed up, of course, now that the owners have been arrested, but there was a car idling at the curb close to the shop. No one has any reason to be down that road at night. I thought it might be someone thinking about robbing the place. Anyway, I asked the driver if he needed any help. He shot away as if the devil was on his tail.”

  “Get to the point, Matt.” Alex turned back to face the desk, extricated his fingers from the phone wire and drummed out a rhythm on the wood.

  “Sorry, sir. I didn’t get much of a look at the driver, but I’m pretty convinced that I saw his picture on your incident board. Bloke with an attitude, beard, dark eyes…?” His voice trailed off.

  Alex took a breath. He didn’t think that PC Naylor was the type to ring for nothing—he seemed to have good instincts.

  “Please tell me you got the registration, Matt?”

  “Yes, sir. Reg, make, model, anything I could remember. I wrote it all down. There’s a CCTV camera farther down the street that might have caught something too.”

  “Okay. Are you at work?”

  “Yes, sir. I came in a bit early to catch up on some paperwork before I go out later.”

  “You’re based at Dorset Street, aren’t you?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Good. Put me through to your watch commander. I’m going to need to borrow you for a while. Then lose the uniform and get over here.”

  Alex spent the next five minutes outlining the situation to a confused sergeant at the station across town. He managed to convince the man that losing one of his beat officers for the night was not the end of the world, slammed the phone down, then went to brief his team. After a short sharp explanation, he set Pete on running the registration plates and Phil on obtaining CCTV footage from the council security team. He kept his fingers crossed that this was one of those precious moments where an over-confident criminal had made a stupid error.

  Alex examined the incident board carefully, sure he was missing something. When Conor came and stood next to him, he longed to take his hand and give it a squeeze.

  “There has to be something we’re not seeing.”

  Higgs wandered across and joined them.

  “Let’s go from the top. Conor, take us through the board.”

  “Okay.” Conor stepped forward and pointed to the first picture, which showed the burnt out shell of Leather and Lace. “First we have the arson. Leather and Lace was torched in revenge for the owner, Sam Teller, leaving his wife for a man, Toby Walsh.” Conor gestured to pictures of the two men. “Then, Sam Teller becomes the first victim of the tarot killer. We assume that the crimes have been committed by the same person because of the link. This assumption gains credibility when victim two, Adrian Hamilton, turns out to have been a guest at the shop opening.” He paused then tapped the picture of Jemima Muir. “Jemima Muir, nee Ellison, owner of Arcania and Amanda Teller’s sister. Married to Sid Muir, who has a record of violence. She was also named as the Queen of Cups in Adrian Hamilton’s files and he was investigating a criminal ring of fraudsters operating as tarot readers and the like. That gave us another link between the arson and t
he murders. It looked obvious that the Muirs were guilty of both crimes.”

  “Too obvious,” Alex muttered.

  “Then another tarot card arrives while the Muirs are in custody. So…we have our arsonists, but not the murderer.”

  Alex rolled his shoulders. “I think that we need to go back to the party at Leather and Lace. Our murderer is not stupid. I think he may have spoken to Adrian Hamilton at the party. If Hamilton had a loose tongue after all the drink, he may have boasted about his investigation.”

  Higgs nodded. “That takes us back to the two men on Conor’s list, the two we haven’t been able to track down.”

  “It was definitely him. I’m sure of it.”

  Alex turned to find Matt Naylor at his shoulder.

  “PC Naylor, thanks for getting over here so fast.” He did a quick round of introductions.

  “Are you absolutely certain?” Alex checked.

  “Yes.” Naylor stabbed at the picture of the bearded man with a finger. “That’s the driver of the car that I saw near Arcania.”

  “The plates on the car have come back as false, sir,” Pete shouted from across the room. “But we got the CCTV footage. Thank God for digital.”

  Matt got out his notepad and flipped it open. “The car was an Audi A5. Silver. Didn’t notice any mods. There was a silver charm hanging from the rear-view mirror.” He showed Alex the shape he had sketched, a circle with a lightning bolt through it.

  Alex’s blood ran cold. “I recognize that symbol.” He moved to the nearest computer and started tapping frantically on the keyboard, bringing up the criminal database. “Name, name, name… What the hell was it…? Derek, Damien….no…Desmond! Shane Desmond!” Triumphantly he found the record and printed off a copy of the man’s picture. The others gathered round as he pinned it next to the photo on the incident board.

  “It’s him!” Conor spoke first. “Younger, no beard, but it’s definitely the same guy in both pictures. He must have dyed his hair, as well. Who is he?”

  “Higgs, you must remember. It was years ago. He was the leader of that weird cult down Glastonbury way. Anti-gay, anti-black, anti anything that didn’t conform to their code. We got him on gun trafficking but suspected him of a lot worse. He went down for seven years. That lightning symbol was all over the place they used as their headquarters.”