A Tangled Truth (Stonewall Investigations Book 3)

by Max Walker

  It was a sanctuary, and I wanted to play with Liam all night in it.

  Liam took off his shirt and tossed it to the side. He stood there, the soft overhead lights casting shadows of the soft ridges of his muscles. His stomach was defined in a six-pack that I had to run my hands over. And the V-muscles that led down his hips and toward that magnificent, rock-hard cock of his—jeez, Liam was something else. He was so hot it was almost making me feel bad about myself.

  “Wow,” I said, reaching for Liam’s thick cock jutting out from that perfect body. As soon as I wrapped my hand around him, I was overcome with warmth. He felt so solid in my grip, and soft, too. Like heated velvet. I stepped forward, the head of my cock pushing up against Liam’s hip, getting him wet from my leaking tip. I kissed him as I began to stroke, relishing in the feeling it was giving me, knowing how much pleasure I was giving Liam. He was grinding his hips and moaning into the kiss as I stroked a little faster, twisting my fist around his shaft, fingering his heavy balls.

  “I need you in my mouth,” I said, my voice huskier than normal, one hand on his cock and another on his face.

  “Oh yeah?” Liam said, his eyes glinting like embers about to catch.

  “Mhmm,” I said, licking my lips and smiling as I dropped down to my knees. Up close, Liam’s cock was even hotter. There was a small birthmark on the bottom of his shaft, about midway, and I kissed that first, looking up as he locked his eyes with mine, the embers inside him lighting brighter. “Wow, you’re big,” I said, holding him with both hands, kissing around the sensitive head.

  “And it’s all for you,” Liam said, almost growling. It made my cock throb between my thighs, leaking another rope of clear precome onto the floor.

  “All of it?” I asked mischievously, looking up.

  “All of it,” he confirmed. And with that, I turned him around so that I could kiss those two magnificent globes of his. I bit on the sensitive flesh, feeling him tremble as I used my tongue to trace down the line of his crack. I reached around and cupped his balls while he stroked as my tongue pushed in, flicking across his hole.

  “Ohh fuck!” Liam said, twitching forward before pushing his ass back onto my mouth. I moaned into his hole as I let go of his balls and used both hands to spread him open.

  “God, you’re so sexy,” I said, admiring every smoldering hot inch of Liam’s body. His puckered hole was wet with my saliva as I licked again, knowing I was sending lightning bolts shooting through Liam’s body, affirmed by the noises he was making and the spasms in his thighs.

  “Oh Mark,” he said, almost crying in pleasure when my name came out of his mouth. It made me want more. So much more. I rubbed a finger across his hole, earning more moans, more shakes. My finger slipped into his needy hole and was immediately encompassed in soft heat. I could feel him throbbing from the inside as I probed, pushing on the swollen spot I knew would drive him crazy.

  “That’s it, that’s it, baby, oh fuck, Mark, Mark.” He was jerking off harder, the sounds of his balls slapping against himself filling the bathroom. “Mark!” he said, giving one last shout before his body came undone. His ass twitched around my finger, pulling me in as he released, the sound of his come hitting the floor replacing the sound of his previously full balls. It was scorching hot, and it was enough to make me come a second time with only a couple of tight strokes.

  I pulled out of him and stood on shaky legs. He turned to me, breathless, face and chest flushed pink, a drunk smile on his sexy face. “That was… insane. I thought I was about to pass out.”

  “This was so worth the wait,” I said, chuckling as we stepped into the shower and turned the water on. The water was warm and fell on us like a curtain, transporting us into a relaxing tropical waterfall.

  “You’re damn good with your finger, you know,” Liam said, smirking as he sudsed up. “And your tongue.”

  “Those aren’t the only things I’m good with.”

  “Oh, I’m sure,” he said, laughing as he fondled my still-swollen dick.

  We stayed in the shower until we both started getting pruney. I wasn’t even sure what time it was by the time we dried up and slid into bed, still naked, still having the time of our lives. I was surprised to see it was three in the morning when I looked over to Liam’s bedside clock. Time had flown faster today than any other day in the past Liam-less years.

  “I’m so goddamn happy you’re in my life again,” Liam said, his leg thrown over mine, the covers thrown over the both of us. It was starting to get me hard again, especially since his thigh was currently pressing down on my package. Normally I would have tapped out long before this, but not with Liam.

  “Do you hear that?” Liam asked, right as I was about to roll over and kiss him.

  “Hear what?”

  “I don’t know… like someone talking? Am I going crazy?”

  I didn’t move an inch and tried to hone in on whatever Liam was hearing. At first all I could hear was the floorboards settling and the air-conditioning kicking up. Liam’s soundproof windows kept his place sheltered from the chaos outside, so whatever Liam was hearing had to be coming from inside.

  And then I heard it. It was exactly what Liam described: a muffled voice saying something. It was far, definitely not coming from the bedroom or the bathroom. And then it stopped.

  “You hear it, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said. I rolled out of bed and grabbed a pair of briefs from the corner. I was pretty sure they were mine, but they could have been Liam’s—I was more focused on the voice that had started again. This time it was louder, so it was definitely coming from the other side of Liam’s closed bedroom door. I looked back at Liam, who was sitting up in his bed, concern on his expression.

  I opened the door and the voice immediately got louder. And that was when it clicked. “Duh,” I said, walking out and shaking my head.

  “Huh?” Liam called out.

  “My fault,” I said, coming back into his bedroom with my phone in hand. “I left it in my pants pocket, and the ringer was on. I have it set to a Madonna song.”

  “So I was here thinking someone broke in, and it was really Madonna’s sweet, sweet voice serenading us with a sick dance beat?”

  “Yup,” I said, laughing as I got back in bed, taking off the briefs. I looked at the phone screen and noticed it was my neighbor who had been calling me. I had ten missed calls from her.

  “Huh,” I said. Already, any calls at three in the morning were a bad sign, but so many meant something had to be wrong. I called her back and was greeted by her frazzled voice.

  “Mark, jeez, I’ve been trying to get in touch. I just got home from my boyfriend’s place, and Mark, someone was trying to break into your place. I called the cops, and they chased the person away.”

  I was out of bed and had my clothes on again in minutes. Liam offered to come with me, but I knew it would just be a night of talking to the police and looking around for the culprit, and I didn’t want him involved. I wanted him nice and safe and tucked away in bed.

  I was running on about an hour’s worth of sleep. When I did finally make it inside my place, my body was so spent that I crashed on the couch and knocked out within seconds, my shoes still on. I was woken up by an incessant vibrating that was practically burrowing a hole into my thigh. It was Liam; he was worried that I hadn’t been answering any of his texts. He clearly sounded like he felt bad for waking me, but I truly wasn’t bothered. I had to be up anyway for work, and the fact that Liam was the first voice I heard on waking up meant my mood was already on the rise.

  Currently, I was sitting in Zane’s office, drinking bitter black coffee out of a ceramic blue mug, waiting for Collin to come in with his cup. I heard his feet shuffling up the steps toward us. Poor guy hadn’t gotten much sleep lately, either.

  “Morning, guys,” he said, coming into the office and shutting the door behind him. He sat down next to me. Zane was looking the most rested out of all of us. He was wearing a billowy bright red button
-up shirt that was a risky fashion choice, but he pulled it off flawlessly. I wondered if his fiancé, Enzo, had a part in choosing his wardrobe today. Usually he dressed with a little more flair than Zane, so it was nice to see the little bit of influence between the two. That’s what happened when you ended up with your perfect match.

  “So both of you need some serious vacation time,” Zane said, a sad smirk on his face.

  Collin was wearing something much less bright—a dark polo shirt and tightly fitting gray khakis. His hair needed a good cut, and the space around his eyes was flushed a pinkish red from exhaustion.

  “You’re telling me,” Collin said with a laugh.

  “I’m not even sure where to start,” Zane said. This wasn’t really the norm for us. We didn’t always meet with the head of Stonewall for a morning catch-up. But events had been beyond crazy lately, and Zane was the type who wanted to help in whatever way he could. He saw that we were both under some intense pressure, and he always said talking things through with people helped ease that internal pressure cooker squealing inside all of us.

  “Should we draw straws? Shortest gets to say their shitty story first,” Collin said, his sense of humor breaking through the dreary morning. The sun still hadn’t fully made its way above the city yet, so even the view outside Zane’s office window was gray.

  “You should start,” I said, handing Collin the floor. He began, starting with how he’d found poor Riceball. That was the only thing anyone was able to find, as the Unicorn had left behind zero signs that they’d been there. The frustration was clear in Collin’s tone, and his fists were balled on his lap, his brow furrowing together at parts. There was also fear, something I didn’t want to acknowledge too much since I felt like it gave it more power than needed. But still, I couldn’t help but feel a shiver run down my back. This was all coming way too close.

  “Clearly, it’s the Unicorn’s way of sending a message. But also, it means I’m getting really close now. It’s the only reason why they would break from their MO and go after my cat.”

  I gulped. I wanted to ask a question but stopped myself just short after I realized what the answer would be.

  That question: why go after the cat and not you? And the answer was obvious: because he was playing with Collin. It was a cat-and-mouse game now, and the Unicorn was making it very clear as to who was the cat.

  “Collin,” I said, trying to choose my words carefully. I knew what I was about to ask was a big one, but it had to be said out loud. “Can you consider taking a step back from the case for a little bit? Let the police catch up, let them take whatever you’ve found and use that to put the missing pieces together.” Asking that of another detective was hard, because I knew his drive to place all the missing puzzle pieces together was intense. But asking that of one of my closest friends was easy.

  “No,” he said, an answer I already knew was coming. “I’m so damn close. I’ve found a few things that are leading me in the right direction, I just know it. I need a couple more things to fall into place, that’s it, and then I think I can say I’ve got them.”

  Seeing the hope and fire in Collin’s eyes reassured me that things would be okay. If there was anyone who could put it all together and find this twisted killer, it was Collin. I smiled as I drank more coffee, finding some strength in knowing how close Collin was to figuring it all out now.

  “If you need any help, any whatsoever,” Zane said, looking intently at Collin. I knew how difficult that was for Zane. His husband had been murdered by the Unicorn years ago, when we had all thought the sicko was caught and locked up. Turns out, it had been the wrong guy all along, and now the killer was back, impaling innocent gay men and apparently cats now, too.

  “Thank you,” Collin said, earnest in his tone.

  We couldn’t keep talking after that. Andrew knocked on the door, his voice cutting through. “Mark?”

  “Yup,” I said. He opened the door, a concerned look on his face.

  “Sorry for interrupting. I’ve got a call for you,” he said. “It sounds important. She says she wants to talk to you about Johnny.”

  15 Liam Wolfe

  I was sitting at a long table inside a meeting room in my agent’s building, staring out the window at the Hudson River. Around me sat my entire team, from my agent to my manager to my assistant to my PR pro. I’d even invited my accountant. I wanted to get everyone in the same room together so I could brainstorm how I could go about getting my career back into shape. Of course, after last night, the only thing going on in my brain was a storm surrounding Mark and his naked ass. I’d never felt such an intense orgasm. I think I was hungover from it. Was that even possible? I wasn’t sure, but it definitely felt like a mild hangover. My body was aching, and my thoughts couldn’t focus on one single thing. All I wanted to do was get back into bed, but not alone… yup, I think I had a come-over. That was how hard Mark had made me come last night with his tongue probing my ass.

  “Liam… woohoo, earth to Liam. Are you joining us for the meeting?” It was my manager, Wade Hayes, an intimidating guy who really just liked to spend his time watching news bloopers on YouTube. When he wasn’t managing me like a fucking management savant, of course.

  “Wha? Right, yeah, yeah. I’m here.”

  “Okay, good,” Wade said, pulling out a stack of papers. “Here are all the projects that have been sitting on my desk waiting for an opening in your schedule. With Queens looking like it’s going to someone else, now’s the perfect time.”

  “Bullshit,” said my agent, Stephen Oakley. He was smaller than Wade but still commanded a room better than Wade could. Maybe it was always the perfectly coiffed dark hair or the well-chosen and always brand-new Armani suits he was wearing. “I’m not letting Queens go. We signed a fucking contract. You’re on the goddamn press releases. That movie is yours and yours only.”

  “Right, but that’s not in our hands anymore; it’s in the studio’s. There’s a clause in that contract made for exactly this type of shit. These negative press situations.”

  I swallowed what felt like a rock. I didn’t like thinking about this. Thoughts of Mark spreading my ass apart were much more appealing, but I knew now wasn’t the time (even though my dick was starting to swell like it was time).

  “I’m with Stephen on this one,” I said, sitting up straight in my chair and trying to ignore the growing warmth between my thighs. “I’m not letting that film go. I had a vision for it, and I’ve worked so damn hard on the run-up to filming.”

  “Yup, I’m on Liam’s side.” It was Blair Rockwell, my PR magician. She knew exactly how to tell the story she wanted to the public with whatever she was given. “If he gets back—rather, when he gets back on—I can easily shine a light on the entire project like a redemption story, and everyone loves redemption. We just need one villain, someone I can point to and say, ‘Look, this person was the one responsible for all the drama.’”

  “Working on it,” I replied. “I’ve hired a private detective to look into Johnny Brown. I have a feeling he’s somehow involved in the email, and I also think he’s hiding some darker, more fucked-up shit. Plus, he’s had it out for me since we first met.”

  Blair was shaking her head. “I’ve heard things about him, never good.”

  “Right, exactly,” I said. “Not even you can spin his shit into PR gold, and that’s hard for me to even imagine. But there is some good news. Mark, the detective, managed to get him down for an interview, and we found out he’s hated me for so long because he’s homophobic. He doesn’t like seeing an openly gay guy succeeding as much as me, especially when his little brother could be sitting in the director’s chair. So we’ve got motive down.” I sighed, feeling the negative energy seeping through me just from talking about this fucktard. “Now we just need the actual evidence.”

  “Oh yeah, man, you’ll find something on him,” Stephen said. “He’s definitely scum. I rep a few actresses who refuse to go out on any casting calls if his name is attache
d to it. In fact, if I do send anyone out to him, I make sure his assistant is in the room. I think she’s the only one who’s got any power over that guy.”

  “Who, Diana?” my assistant, Carey Sharp, asked. “Yeah, she’s cool. Went out for drinks with her a few times. She’s a lifer, I think. She loves being his assistant. Don’t think she’ll ever work any other job.”

  “I don’t know how,” Wade said, his face twisted like he smelled rotting trash. “I’ve been trying to get you to stop directing projects with his name attached.”

  I sighed, wishing I had taken his advice sooner. “You’re right, the writing was all on the wall years ago. But that’s not what’s important here. What’s important is how in the world are we going to fix my image after that limp asshole assassinated it.”

  “A… limp asshole?” Stephen said, cocking his head. “God, I don’t even want to picture that.”

  “Don’t,” Carey said.

  “Yeah, don’t,” I assured him.

  Blair coughed in a way clearly meant to draw attention. “Okay, so I’ve put together a list of blogs and news outlets I want you to interview with. I’m already in touch with E! and Access, and they both want to do a deep-dive type look into your life. Maybe even a multipart series.”

  “That’s great!” Carey said, her enthusiasm spreading around the room. Those were two huge ways of getting the correct story out there, that was for sure.

  “It is,” Blair said, except her smile dipped into a frown. “Except there’s a catch: they only want to do it after some of the dust has settled and they can make a clear judgment call on what happened. Because although you’ll certainly be cleared of the theft allegations when the police investigation is done, it’s the abuse allegations that are causing them to push back.”