by Shawn Lane
He wanted to make Robbie come, and come so hard, it would erase all other inferior blow jobs from Robbie’s mind. A ridiculous thought, but one he had anyway. Or Aaron had. Or…geez, did it matter which of them thought what at this point? It was becoming hard to tell the difference. Which frankly scared Curtis.
Reaching somewhat blindly, Curtis’s hand closed around the lube. Lubing his fingers, he slipped one inside Robbie even as he sucked harder and harder on Robbie’s cock.
Robbie clutched at the bedspread beneath him, then clutched at Curtis’s head. His moans grew louder and louder and filled the room.
Curtis pushed another finger inside, stretching, preparing Robbie for him. He’d wait for Robbie to fill his mouth first. Lifting the other man’s legs up over his shoulders, Curtis’s fingers penetrated him deeper, his cock aching to replace his probing digits.
And then Robbie started bucking and squirming, moans pouring from his lips as his cock jumped in Curtis’s mouth then cum shot out and down his throat. He swallowed down as much as he could before releasing the now deflated cock.
“Oh, God,” Robbie murmured.
Curtis released him and smiled, reaching for the condom. His cock was aching to be inside. Again. For the first time. For both of them.
When he was sheathed in latex, Curtis pushed into Robbie’s ass with a relieved sigh of contentment.
“God, you’re tight.”
Aaron had forgotten that, how tight Robbie was. He could feel it now through Curtis and yet he couldn’t. It was almost as though the perfect ass clenching his dick was just a memory of what he had felt. He guessed it was.
Curtis slammed into Robbie again and again, gritting his teeth, sweat beading on his forehead. It was good…so good. He never wanted it to end, he wanted to go on fucking Robbie forever.
But his cock had other plans. It wanted sweet relief. He thrust deeper and faster, his balls tightening, his heart pumping loud in his ears.
“Robbie,” he yelled, the powerful mind blowing orgasm rocking through him. Rolling to his side, Aaron’s thoughts seemed to short out, leaving only Curtis’s. Or nearly so.
Was this what it was like to have sex with a ghost inside you or was it simply the way it was with Robbie? And were these feelings his own or Aaron’s? Where did he stop and Aaron end?
He pulled Robbie against him and held him tight. What if he couldn’t find out who had killed Aaron? Did that mean Aaron would be inside him for the rest of his life? Would he become Aaron? Fuck, Curtis couldn’t write something this freaky, this confusing. Even if he did find out who had killed Aaron, what if the ghost didn’t want to leave?
“Stay with me,” he whispered to Robbie.
Robbie nodded. “I couldn’t move if I wanted to.”
* * * *
Curtis cracked two eggs over a bowl and whisked them. He glanced at the clock on the stove. Just now nine in the morning. He’d left Robbie still asleep in his bed when he’d got up an hour ago. He’d attempted to write something on his latest work in progress but the words wouldn’t come. He felt Aaron’s presence inside him but for now the ghost was idle, quiet. Strangely so.
He switched on the coffeemaker he had set up earlier and went into the fridge for potatoes to shred for hash browns.
“Good morning,” Robbie said from behind him.
He turned and smiled. “Good morning. I’m making coffee.”
Robbie yawned and ran his fingers through his messy auburn hair. Curtis’s pajama bottoms were huge on Robbie, as was the tank top he’d leant the smaller man. He looked damn adorable.
“And something else. Food smells great.” Robbie patted his tummy.
“Biscuits are in the oven. I’m about to scramble some eggs, and I’ve made sausages and gravy.”
“Oh, my God, it sounds fantastic. I can cook a little myself.”
Curtis smiled. He realized he didn’t know that much about Robbie. Aaron knew, but Curtis not so much. And he wanted to know more about the man he’d spent the night with.
“Great. Have a seat, it’s almost ready. Then you can tell me a bit about you.”
After Curtis got them settled at the dining table with breakfast and steaming mugs of coffee, he said, “Tell me about yourself, Robbie.”
Robbie blushed. “Well, um, what do you want to know?”
“Everything. You and I had sex last night and fuck, I don’t even know your age.” Curtis sighed. “I probably sound stupid.”
“No.” Robbie smiled. “Aaron?”
“He’s here still, yeah. I feel him. But he’s…dormant. I think he’s really sad right now.”
“This is so hard to deal with. It must be worse for you. Both of you.”
He nodded. “It’s very strange having someone else occupying your body. Sharing your thoughts. Feeling what you do.” He covered Robbie’s hand with his. “We spent the night together, Robbie. Aaron may know you, but I don’t.”
Robbie was silent for a moment as he sipped his coffee, then he said, “Okay. Well, I’m twenty-six. I met Aaron basically just out of high school. I was working in a coffee shop as a barista and Aaron would come in there every day for his coffee. I was going to beauty school at the same time.”
“Did you grow up in San Francisco?”
“I did, yeah. My parents were pretty liberal so they didn’t toss me on my ass when I came out when I was fifteen. I knew stuff like college and an office job really wasn’t for me, that’s why I picked doing hair. What about you?”
Curtis shrugged. “Well, I always knew I wanted to be a writer and even as a kid I would devour novels by King and Koontz. Seemed natural for me. I’ve got a brother, Bentley, I’m pretty close to. He’s about my favorite family member. I’m thirty-eight. Never been married or had children, always been gay.” He grinned. “Had a few relationships but none that lasted. I like football and ballet.”
Robbie laughed. “That’s quite the combination.”
“It is,” he acknowledged. “I like to cook and I like to entertain.”
“If breakfast has been any indication, you do a great job of it. It was so good. But now I’m stuffed.”
“Me, too. Now I have to clean up this mess.” He gestured to the kitchen.
“I’ll help. It’ll get my mind off going to see the Carmichaels today.”
“Are they really that awful?”
Robbie grimaced. “Not all of them. But the fact is, most of them didn’t like me in Aaron’s life. I was an outsider, a poor boy, and, well, the obvious, I was Aaron’s gay lover.”
“Don’t worry, Robbie,” Curtis told him. “The three of us will deal with the Carmichaels together.”
Chapter 7
Curtis could feel the nervous tension pouring off Robbie as they went through the electronic gates leading to the Carmichael home. All Curtis could think was the place screamed pretention. He wasn’t sure if that came from him or Aaron. Aaron still wasn’t talking. Curtis was starting to worry.
“Zane’s going to meet us at the front door,” Robbie said softly.
“How about Zane? How well do you know him” Curtis asked.
Robbie froze and looked at him with wide eyes. “What?”
He frowned. “Robbie?”
Robbie shook his head and looked away. “Nothing. Zane’s cool. Of all Aaron’s family, he’s the best. I…I don’t think it was Zane.”
::I don’t either.::
Curtis inwardly sighed and parked in front of an enormous house. Aaron was back. That was good. He needed Aaron when talking to his family. Aaron would know them.
::This is where I grew up. Impressive right?::
He nodded. “Let’s go, Robbie.”
They got out of his car and went up to the front door. It opened at their approach and a young man, maybe in his late twenties, handsome in an all-American sort of way, stood there.
“Zane?”
“That’s right. Zane Carmichael.” He offered his hand and Curtis shook it. He looked over at Robbie. “Hi, Robbie.�
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Robbie stepped forward and to Curtis’s surprise he embraced Zane. And Zane hugged him back. “Thanks for seeing us.”
“All right. Come inside.” Zane stepped aside and let them into a foyer with gorgeous wood floors and a spiral staircase. “My parents are waiting in the parlor.”
“You told them?”
“When you called me a few minutes ago, yes.” Zane led the way to the parlor and pushed open double doors.
Curtis paused in the doorway, touching Zane’s arm. “Zane.”
“Yes?” Zane shot him a questioning look.
But how could he explain that Aaron was glad to see him, happy? What good would it do Zane to know his brother was lost between worlds?
“Nothing,” he said softly.
As they stepped inside, a tall man and woman, both dressed neatly and elegantly in clothes Curtis associated with people born with money, rose from Queen Ann style chairs, and came forward. Walter Carmichael wore a tailored suit and Mary Carmichael an elegant peach pantsuit. They were attractive in that way rich people could afford to be. Yeah, yeah, Curtis was cynical.
Robbie hung back behind him, like he didn’t really want to be there, but couldn’t really escape it either. Which was true, he guessed.
::They never change. They aren’t perfect, but it wasn’t them.::
“Mr. Macintyre,” Walter said, shaking his hand. “My son tells me you plan to write a book about our son, Aaron.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
Walter looked past him to Robbie. “And what is Mr. Henley doing here?”
::Leave him alone.::
“Robbie’s a friend and is assisting me,” Curtis explained.
“I’m not sure we’re entirely comfortable with someone writing about our son. What sort of a book will this be? A horror novel?”
“More like a biography and about the night he was killed.”
Mrs. Carmichael blanched. “Ghoulish.”
“You’ll have to excuse my wife. Aaron’s loss is very difficult for us,” Walter said. And though they weren’t warm, fuzzy people, Curtis believed them.
“I’m sorry to bring it up,” he said sincerely. He didn’t want to have to, but Aaron needed peace. This was for him. “I’ll try to be brief.”
Walter nodded and gestured to a nearby high-backed sofa. Curtis noticed Zane stood back by the entrance to the parlor. Not wanting to leave, but not wanting to be there either. Robbie sat directly beside Curtis and he put a comforting hand on Robbie’s leg.
“What do you remember about Aaron’s murder?” Curtis asked, getting straight to the point after everyone was seated
“Do you have any children, Mr. Macintyre?” Mary asked him.
“No.”
“Each day without him is like a hole in my heart. That’s what I remember,” she said softly.
::I’m sorry. I’d give anything to be here.::
Curtis didn’t know what to say to that. He felt horrible for being here. Questioning this woman who had lost her son.
“My wife and I were in Europe when Aaron died,” Walter explained into the heavy silence. “Our oldest son, Colton, had arranged it for us for our wedding anniversary. We were called when we were in France.”
Mary folded her hands neatly in her lap. She wouldn’t look at either Curtis or Robbie. “We don’t know who would have done that to him. I-I always thought maybe it involved those criminals he defended. But I don’t know. I don’t like to think about it.”
He squeezed Robbie’s leg and rose. “I think we’ve taken up enough of your time. Thank you for agreeing to see us.”
Zane was quiet as he led them up the stairs to where Colton kept a home office. The house was quiet, really. Like a mausoleum.
::It was always this way. You couldn’t make a lot of noise here. Always had to be on your best behavior.::
Zane stopped in front of a dark cherry wood door. “I didn’t tell Colton, Robbie. Like you asked.”
“Thank you,” Robbie said. “And you’ll stay outside like we spoke this morning?”
Curtis frowned, wondering when Robbie had spoken to Zane that morning.
“Yes.” Zane nodded. He knocked on the door. “Colton?”
“Come in.”
Curtis turned the knob and opened the door to Colton’s office. A man who looked rather like an older, heavier version of Aaron sat behind a large wooden desk. He frowned and stood.
“Who the hell are you?” he directed at Curtis. Then noticing Robbie, “And what the fuck are you doing here?”
* * * *
“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming over,” Aaron said, opening the door of his apartment to Colton. He smiled and stepped aside to let his older brother inside. “You should have called, we could have had dinner.”
“I didn’t know until I happened to be in the neighborhood. Have a meeting a few blocks away so thought I’d pay you a visit.” Colton looked around. “The place looks great. That decorator you hired did a great job.”
“Thanks. Can I get you anything? A beer or something?”
“Nah, that’s okay. You alone?”
Aaron nodded. “Yes, Robbie doesn’t come over on Tuesdays.”
“Right, I remember that now.” They moved over to stand by the sliding glass doors of the balcony with a view of the city. “This is my favorite part of this place. The view is amazing.”
“I agree, but I’m thinking maybe someday soon though of Robbie and I just getting a place together, a place of our own, rather than his and his apartments.” Aaron laughed, then shook his head at his brother’s frown. “Sorry, I forget the gay thing makes you uncomfortable.”
Colton sniffed. “It’s not that. I just wish you’d be less open about it. I don’t know why you can’t be more discreet. Why does everyone have to know?”
They’d had this conversation before, of course.
“Well, but why should I have to? How would you feel if someone told you that you had to be discreet about Cheryl?”
“That’s not the same.”
“How?”
“Cheryl is a woman. My relationship with her is completely normal,” Colton said.
“It’s not different. Robbie and I are normal, too.”
“The Bible—”
Aaron scowled. “Don’t give me that.”
Colton sighed. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”
He relaxed but only slightly. Tension and irritation still flowed through him. “Why are you here then?”
His brother smiled. “I wanted to ask you something. I’ve asked Cheryl to be my wife and she’s accepted.”
“Wow. Congratulations. That’s great.” Aaron wasn’t surprised. His brother’s girlfriend came from a wealthy, highly respected family. Her father was a lifelong Republican politician who had the kind of connections men like Colton orgasmed over.
“Thank you. I’m thrilled she’s agreed, of course. We’re thinking next June. And that’s where you come in.”
“Me?”
Colton smiled. “I’d love it if you agreed to be my best man.”
Aaron stared. Him? Colton wanted him? He never would have expected that in a million years. “Me? You want me?”
“Of course you. Who else? You’re my brother, Aaron.”
Unexpected warmth filled him. “Okay. I’d love to.”
“Great.” Colton grinned. “Now how about that beer?”
Aaron patted his brother’s shoulder. “You bet.” He turned to head into the kitchen.
Bang!
Searing pain spread through his back and then there was nothing.
* * * *
“It was you,” Curtis blurted out to the man behind the desk. “You bastard.”
“What the hell are you talking about? What’s going on?” Colton demanded. “Zane!”
::I remember everything now.::
“Oh, my God, you killed Aaron. You shot your own brother in the back.”
“I’m going to call the police,” Colton said
.
“Do it,” Robbie spoke up for the first time since they’d arrived. He had tears in his eyes. “Call them. I bet they have a lot of questions. You murderous bastard, I knew it was you.”
“You’re insane. Get out of my house. Why would I have killed my brother?”
“I know why,” Zane said from the doorway.
“What the fuck?” Colton yelled.
“A few days before Aaron’s murder, I overheard Colton talking to his future father-in-law.”
“Zane, shut up,” Colton said angrily.
“Cheryl’s father didn’t approve of Colton having a gay brother,” Zane continued, ignoring his brother. “He told Colton no daughter of his would be allowed to marry someone who had something so disgusting in his family. After Aaron died, Cheryl’s father withdrew any objections and even paid hundreds of thousands of dollars for their wedding.”
Robbie gasped. “You killed Aaron for that? Oh my God.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Colton insisted.
“Yeah, I do,” Curtis said. “You killed m…him. You killed Aaron. You went to his apartment that night and asked—asked him to be your best man. And then you shot him in the back.”
Colton stared at him. “How could you know that?”
“Then it’s true?” Mary Carmichael said, from directly behind Zane. “You killed Aaron?”
“It’s true, Mother,” Zane whispered, his voice cracking. “That’s your precious son.”
Chapter 8
::He’s exhausted.::
“I know,” Curtis said. “Should I wake him?”
::No.::
Robbie lay sound asleep under the covers in Curtis’s bed. His skin was very pale and there were dark circles under his eyes.
::It’s been a hard day.::
“For all of us.”
::Yeah. Can you go out to the living room?::
Curtis swallowed. “Okay.”
He left Robbie in the bedroom and went out to the living room. His stomach dropped. “This is it, isn’t it?”
::Yes, hang on.::
Curtis’s body shook violently, his vision swam. And then gasping, he dropped to his knees.
Aaron’s ghost once more appeared in front of Curtis. Looking so solid, Curtis desperately wanted him to be real.