Embracing His Syn, page 7
What the hell was that? No, there’s no way. Syn must be misunderstanding. It’d been too damn long since he’d gotten laid. He was seeing lustful glances and mistaking innocent comments as sexual innuendo. It was after two a.m. The hour of the wolf made men think more with their little head than the one with the brain in it. I need some sleep ... and some fucking sex ... soon. He refused to examine why Furi's face came to mind with that last thought.
Syn pressed his thumbs into his eyes and shook his head in fatigue. He saw his Lieutenants doing that silent communication shit that they did, so he approached their team and instructed everyone to go home; get a few hours' sleep and be at the station ready for a briefing at ten. That would give him a couple hours to talk with Day and God and get all his questions answered. He hoped he had made his point that he wouldn't tolerate being disrespected again.
‘And Where Were You Between the Hours of…’
During the night, Doug had stretched out on the small couch, one leg hanging off the side, Furi nestled beneath his arm, his face tucked into Doug’s armpit. Furi felt Doug stir next to him and he tried to be still so he wouldn't wake him. It felt so good waking up to a warm – maybe not willing, but a male body nonetheless. And oh was he warm. Doug smelled like a man’s man. Furi’s face was sandwiched between a bulging bicep and a firm pec. If Doug were completely awake, he’d no doubt feel Furi’s morning wood pressed against his thigh. There was nothing he could he do about the wood, it was nature, right? Furi rolled his eyes while fighting the urge to rub his aching shaft against that strong thigh. Doug was straight, had a girlfriend. He was very liberal, but hell, no man was that damn laid back that he’d let another man rub one out on him. Furi laid there perfectly still, basking in the masculinity surrounding him, wishing it was Syn ... or at least someone who could be interested in him.
Maybe Syn’s not so bad. Dating a cop could be beneficial if I’m getting ready to alert my psycho husband and brother-in-law to my whereabouts. But what if he’s not looking for a date? What if he wants to fuck and then go on his way? Damnit. That’s another reason I can’t go there.
Strong arms tightened around him and Doug slid further down so his chin rested on Furi’s head. “Stop thinking so hard. You’re disturbing my sleep,” Doug said in a deep, groggy voice. He took Furi’s hand from where it was tucked in between them and pulled it so that Furi was wrapped around him. Doug began to pet Furi’s unruly hair. Mmmmm. So nice.
They were chest to chest and Furi could feel Doug’s deliciously thick cock against him. Furi groaned and tried to shift even closer.
“Any closer and you’ll be inside me,” Doug groaned.
“Is that an invitation?” Furi smiled against Doug’s chest.
“Mmmm,” Doug moaned. “As horrific as that sounds ... I’m going to have to pass.”
Furi pinched Doug’s ass hard, making him yelp and laugh.
“I got to go to work gay boy, and you have a phone call to make to your lawyer, remember?” Doug stretched his long body, half of him hanging off the too-small couch.
“Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s only seven, babe. Your brother’s office isn’t even open yet,” Furi argued, trying to get off the couch.
“No excuses. I’m going to call my brother on my lunch break and he better tell me that you called.” Doug was pulling on his boots.
“Will you at least have some coffee with me before you leave?” Furi pouted, immediately feeling silly for it.
“Dude. You’re way too tatted up to ever make that face.” Doug laughed. He bent over and pressed a kiss to Furi’s forehead. “I will not have a cup of your nasty coffee. I will however, take you to breakfast and drink some real coffee with you.”
Furi felt better already. He stood, wrapped his arms around Doug, and whispered, “Thank you for last night. I needed it.”
“I know. Now go get dressed.” Doug popped him on the shoulder.
Furi was in the bathroom brushing his teeth when Doug barged into the tiny space almost knocking him over.
“Furious! Have you looked at your cell yet?” Doug’s hazel eyes were wide as he spoke.
“No. It’s dead. Why? What is it?” Furi’s stomach dropped at the expression on Doug’s face.
Oh hell. What is it now?
“Mack sent a group text two hours ago. Someone was killed outside the studio last night and he wants everyone to come in at nine for a meeting, and no matter what, no one is to talk to the cops.”
“Holy Fuck! Who the hell was killed?” Furi asked, toothpaste dripping down his chin.
“He didn’t say.”
“Call him.”
“I did. And I called his assistant. Both went straight to voicemail.”
“Shit,” Furi whispered, his mind racing a mile-a-minute, shocked that someone from their little production company would be killed.
“Hurry up, let’s get going.” Doug moved quickly through Furi’s small place, grabbing his clothes, looking as distraught as Furi felt.
Ten minutes later they were out the door and in Doug’s car, speeding to Peachtree City.
“I can’t believe this,” Doug said as he turned into the crowded parking lot, his eyes scanning each of the vehicles.
Doug was most likely doing the same thing Furi was. Checking the cars to see whose was missing. There were several, but they couldn’t conclude anything, since they were an hour early for the meeting. Furi saw several reporters recording what must be the crime scene. There were still a few police cars parked on the far side of the lot, and yellow tape blocking off the entrance to the back alley. When a news anchor saw them, he waved to his cameraman and ran over to them. Doug pulled Furi’s arm and hurried him the last few feet to the door and pushed him inside.
“What?” Furi looked at him.
“You don’t need to be on television right now.” Doug gave him a look that said ‘think about it.’
Furi just nodded and ran his hands over his face in frustration. It really didn’t matter now. He was having Patrick served with divorce papers this week. The inevitable couldn't be avoided any longer.
Furi and Doug made their way down the corridor and slowed when they passed a room where a few of the girls were talking in hushed tones. Doug backed up and peered inside. “Hey, what’s going on girls? You look like you know something,” Doug said as he approached their tight circle.
Furi stood at the door, knowing he wasn’t real popular with the girls right now. The women stopped talking and eyed both of them with disdain.
“Fuck off, Doug.” Sasha stepped in front of the girls like she was their spokeswoman.
Doug’s head snapped back at the venom in her tone. He turned his lip up at her. “Been there. Done that, Sasha.”
It appeared they took offense to Doug’s statement and Furi raced in to grab his friend from the extremely angry mob. Furi wondered if it was one of the female entertainers who was killed. That might explain why the girls were all wound up.
“Sasha, who was killed?” Furi asked as calmly as he could. He’d used that same tone when he tried to talk his husband out of his rages.
“How the hell should we know, fag? We’re waiting just like everyone else.” Sasha didn’t wait for Furi’s shock to register before she’d turned her back to him.
“You little slut.” Doug bristled.
“Hey, hey. Let it go, Doug.” Furi pulled on Doug’s shoulder, stopping his tirade, as the women began to really turn up the insults. “Let’s go. This is pointless. Damn you’d think we were the killers, the way they’re acting.”
“Maybe you are,” Angelica sneered. “Do you have an alibi for last night, Furious?”
Furi’s face morphed into a deep frown, confused. What the hell had Furious ever done to these women? Damn, he’d never even had a real conversation with any of them. His refusal to fuck them wasn't reason to act so hurtful toward him. He’d always been respectful to all the entertainers. Furi didn’t think he was better than anyone else there. Sure, Mack threw money at him left and right, but that’s only because he was the one performer who had never been in a partnered scene. Furi guaranteed as soon as he agreed to one, he’d be yesterday’s news.
“Actually, yes. I do have an alibi,” Furi answered.
“I’m sure he had some guy’s dick up his ass last night,” Sasha added.
“I’m confused. Sasha, Angelica. Did I do something?” Furi pointed at his chest. “I really don’t know why you're attacking me like this.”
“You don’t have to explain shit to these bitches,” Doug hissed.
Furi looked at his best friend, wishing he’d tone it down, because the name-calling wasn’t helping. “Don’t call them bitches, Doug.”
“Seriously, Sasha.” Furi stepped a little closer to her and lowered his voice. “Is this about me not doing the scene with you?”
“Fuck you,” she flung at him. “You think your dick is golden or something. I don’t give a damn about you not fucking me. Probably saved me from getting some nasty disease.”
“Oh please, you probably pop penicillin like Tic Tacs, with all the cocks you fuck on the regular,” Doug jumped in again.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Furi shook his head sadly. “Let’s just go wait for the meeting to start, Doug.”
“Yeah, go on, Doug. Go with your boyfriend. Yours is probably the cock he had in his mouth last night.”
“Yep, sure was. And he gives better head than you.”
Doug and Furi were rounding the corner and the yelling still reached their ears. “Don’t you think you could’ve handled that a little better?” Furi asked.
“What?” Doug feigned innocence.
“Not all female performers are bitches or tramps.” Furi shook his head.
“No, not all. Just them.” Doug responded as they entered the meeting.
Furi’s next comment was cut short when Mack and his assistant came into the cramped room. The furniture had been removed so they could fit more people in. The studio was used mainly for orgies and poly scenes. It was the largest space they had in the building, so all meetings were held there. Furi looked around the room. There were actually a few people missing, but he still chose not to draw any conclusions.
Mack’s hair looked like he’d been pulling it half the morning. His tie was loosened at the collar of his wrinkled dress shirt. His khaki pants had a couple dark stains on the front and Furi thought this was the messiest he’d ever seen Mack look. Furi could only imagine what the man had been through the last few hours, and if his beard stubble was any indication, he had been awake half the night.
“Thanks everyone for coming on such short notice. I know most of you have day jobs, so I’ll try to make this quick. Last night a little after midnight, Jake Starman was killed leaving the studio after his shoot.”
Mack paused as several gasps and ‘oh no's' echoed in the room. Doug turned and looked at Furi for his reaction, but he didn’t really have one. He’d run into Jake a few times, but he didn’t really know the guy. All he knew was the man was bisexual, leaning more towards women than men. He was handsome, with chiseled features, a warm smile, and sexy brown bedroom eyes. It was his tattoos that had led Furi to have an occasional conversation with him. Jake had commented on Furi’s sleeves, asking him about ideas for his next tat. He was always smiling and pleasant to be around if you were milling around the break room waiting for your scene to start. Who the hell would want to kill him?
Mack put his hand up to quiet the room when questions started to fly. “I don’t know all the details, but I do know he was shot.” Mack rubbed his neck when more questions came in quick succession. “Yes, there is someone in custody, but the police suspect there may have been more assailants involved.”
Everyone was looking around at each other, looking for god-knew-what. Hell, Furi didn’t know if he should make eye contact or keep his head down. Was there one reaction that made him look guiltier than another? Then he thought about it. I was home with my friend all night. It doesn’t matter what face I make. Furi lifted his chin up.
“The police have a list of everyone’s name and contact information, I assume they’ll be contacting you at some point to take statements. Cooperate or don’t cooperate.” Mack turned to the company’s publicist. “Greg do you want to say something?”
The thin man was neatly dressed and looked as if he’d had a full night's sleep. His white polo shirt was crisp and clean, as were his jeans. His neatly trimmed beard drew your eye to the man’s mouth when he spoke. “I strongly recommend that you cooperate with the police department. I’ve been in contact with the Detectives from the drug task force that’s working with Homicide on this. They are a little intimidating, but we want Jake’s killer brought to justice, so if you know anything that may help, come see me in private. I won’t ask any questions, I’ll simply give you their information or you can contact them on your own. Illustra’s official position is that we do not condone our entertainers buying, using, or selling illegal substances and we are cooperating with the police in any way we can to get this matter resolved for Jake’s family. Under no circumstances is anyone to make a generalization about our employees to the authorities. Nor are you to speak to the press on Illustra’s behalf. Is that clear?” Greg paused while noting most people nodding their heads. “Excellent. With that said. All filming is to remain on schedule. If you are contacted for questioning during a scheduled shoot, please try to inform us as soon as possible. Any questions?”
One of the female entertainers sitting with Sasha and her friends raised her hand. “You said they have a suspect in custody. Who is it? One of our crew?”
“No. It isn’t one of our entertainers, but we don't know the suspect’s identity,” was all Mack said, and it looked like the girls didn’t like that response at all.
“Is it a man or woman?” she questioned quickly.
“Female from what we understand,” Greg answered.
That started a frenzy and Sasha and her girls stormed out the room. What the fuck is going on?
“Please, settle down everyone,” Greg raised his voice to be heard over the already too-loud comments bouncing around the room. “We want you all to know that we are available for you if you need us. We understand that some of you were close to Jake and considered him a friend. We have hired a security team to patrol the grounds nightly after seven. So those of you who have late shoots are not to leave the building without a security escort. Male or female. Everyone clear on that?”
People were already getting up and gathering their belongings. A few members of the set crew were bringing the furniture back into the room and setting up for shooting.
The show must go on. Furi shook his head solemnly. Doug tapped Furi’s shoulder. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” he replied softly.
“Hey. You okay?” Doug embraced Furi, not caring who was watching.
“Yeah. It's just shitty. Who the hell would want to kill him ... and a woman?”
“I don’t know, babe. Come on I’m late for work. I’ll take you home.”
“No, I’m good. I think I’ll catch the bus.” Furi left the building.
“It’s almost an hour ride. Come on let me drive you home.” Doug ran his fingers through Furi’s hair.
Furi combed his own hands through his hair and pulled his rubber band from his pocket, quickly securing a ponytail at the base of his neck. “It will give me some time to think.”
“To think about what? Don’t over-analyze this. Sometimes fucked-up shit happens to nice people. Don’t go getting yourself all depressed.” Doug opened his car door and paused to narrow his eyes at Furi. “I mean it.”
“Someone is dead. Have some compassion, Doug. Jake had a family. But, really, I’m good. I just want to ride and clear my head. I've got to call your brother soon, too.”
“Atta’ boy.” Doug held up his hand for a high five and Furi left it hanging.
“Shut up. Go to work.” Furi leaned in and gave Doug a quick peck.
“Your lips are soft and pink like a girl's,” Doug teased him, licking his lips.
“You’re ridiculous,” Furi called over his shoulder while walking toward the street. He pulled his ear buds from his pocket, plugging the end into his MP3 player. He let the sounds of soft rock fill his ears as he took long strides towards the bus stop.
I don’t want to talk to the cops. I’ll just tell them where I was last night, and I don’t know shit else.
‘Something’s Missing’
Syn was sitting at his kitchen table starring into his glass of orange juice. He’d gotten about two hours of sleep after Ronowski dropped him off. God and Day had looked like they were extremely anxious to get home. Witnessing the person you love get shot at makes a man want to affirm life in an animalistic-stake-your-claim kind of way. Syn heard the bullets whizzing by him, but there was no one home waiting to show him their appreciation that he was alive. There wasn’t a warm body to curl up next to, making sure he slept peacefully. There was no one to smile at in the morning with thanks in their eyes that they were with you for at least one more day. There was just no one.
Syn scrubbed his hand over his hair and leaned back in his chair, unconsciously surveying his surroundings. Maybe some curtains and a few pictures would be nice. Syn had a sixty-five inch flat screen television and one recliner set in front of it. One lamp attached to an end table next to the chair. Something to set his beer bottle on. The kitchen possessed very few amenities: the usual stove, fridge, microwave, a toaster, a teakettle, and a can opener on the counter. There was a small three chair dinette set placed by the far wall.
Syn hadn’t felt like this since Rhodes had moved out of their small apartment in Philadelphia when he’d met someone. That apartment had felt like Rhodes was always on top of him. Syn used it as an excuse not to feel weird whenever Rhodes’ hard body rubbed up against him or when they ended up a little closer together than guys usually sat on a couch … but it was okay because the living room was only big enough for their television and a loveseat. So he had to rub thighs with Rhodes. Right? So why was Syn devastated when Rhodes left? Why was he so goddamn lonely? Like he was right now.
