Desperate Lovers, page 13
part #2 of Wonderland Series
“What are you going to do?”
“Whatever it takes. Those bastards want to take our home.”
“Please be careful.”
“What could happen?” Sawyer put the Porsche into gear and continued speeding along the high bluffs of the coastal highway.
It was 7:30 p.m. The call connected a disposable AT&T prepaid cell phone to another prepaid line carried by T-Mobile, ensuring that no one short of the U.S. Department of Defense would be able to recall a record of the conversation.
“I need you to head over to the house. Now! There have been more visitors today than during an election year. Something’s wrong.”
“Did you check the cameras?”
“Of course I checked! Seems my nephew has found them again.
I’m still getting audio, though. Not exactly sure what’s going on but he has someone over there. Sounds like they’re drinking and, well, I can only imagine what else. But he’s talking. Damn fool is going to ruin everything.”
“We’re on our way.”
“Don’t bother the boy. I’ll take care of him. Can you handle the
visitor?”
“Not to worry, sir.
“I mean handle this. Do we understand one another?”
“He won’t be bothering you again.”
The connection was broken. Both cell phones were promptly disposed of.
Dane paced the living room, watching out the window for the subject of his next film. God, he hoped this guy was, well, normal. He really wasn’t up to another Kyle Montana. When the phone rang, he assumed it was Dylan, calling to cancel. In a way, it would be a relief.
Dane didn’t think he was cut out for this end of the business. But when he answered the call, he was greeted by the coarse voice of a stranger that demanded to talk to Dane Walters.
“My name is Gerry Green. You left me a massage. What’s this got to do with George Saunders?”
George … Saunders? G&G was Gerald Green and George Saunders? Neighbors? Friends? Lovers?
That train of thought was interrupted by the doorbell.
“Mr. Green, I need to speak to you about something that’s happening on Eldon Court. It’s important. I think it has to do with Mr. Saunders. But I have an appointment right now. Can I see you tomorrow?”
The mention of George Saunders meant something to Green. He offered to drive up the coast and meet Dane at the Mad Hatter’s Bar and Grill at two o’clock the next afternoon. Dane mentioned that he could easily come to Green, but the man was insistent. “No, I’ve been away too long. Tell you the truth, I’m looking forward to planting my feet back on Wonderland soil.”
A moment later, Dane opened the front door.
“You the director?”
Dane smiled. “That’s what they tell me. Come on in.”
Dylan DeMille looked even better than Dane remembered. And he’d looked great then. A hunky knockout, DeMille stood solidly at five-feet-eleven. Dane guessed he probably weighed about two hundred pounds, all muscle. Where Sawyer was compact, Dylan was stacked. His chest entered the house before the rest of him, guarded by eighteen-inch guns that rested powerfully at his sides even as they challenged the sleeves of his faded USC t-shirt. DeMille’s bright, natural smile was offset by short, black hair both on the top of his head and on his stubbled chin.
“I’ve got to tell you, I’m a little nervous.”
Dane offered Dylan a beer to help him relax. The guest star politely declined but did accept a glass of water, which he gulped down with gusto. “Yeah, I’ve never … um, done it with a guy. Not even at the gym and a lot of guys come on to me at the gym.”
“I bet.”
Dane showed him upstairs to the third floor. There, they played with one of the smaller cameras, introducing themselves to the audience in cyberworld. Dane went first and then cued his video partner.
“Hi, I’m Dylan. I’m twenty-five. I played football back in college and now I’m into surfing. And girls. I really need the money, and you know, to bust a nut, so I guess we’re Straight-To-Bed!”
Nice plug, thought Dane. He remounted the camera, adjusted it appropriately and joined Dylan on the bed.
For a moment, they lay side-by-side, fully-clothed, propped up by pillows. A handsome couple by any standard. Dylan surprised Dane by making the first move. A good-natured squeeze of his upper thigh. Dane followed suit, then slid his hand incrementally higher until he cupped the guy’s rather generous basket. What was in there appeared size-appropriate to the rest of his body. They continued exploring with their hands, unrushed, unembarrassed, becoming more comfortable with one another.
Then, to the surprise of both actors, they joined in a kiss. It was tentative at first. Then downright passionate. Dylan’s hands lifted to cup Dane’s face as his tongue probed Dane’s mouth.
When they parted, Dylan looked at his unlikely sex partner with a serious expression. And broke out in a big goofy smile. “That felt so strange. Good strange, though!” he added quickly. As though wanting to confirm that statement, he kissed Dane again.
In short order, shirts were shucked and socks tugged off. Dane placed his palm against the surfer’s chest, marveling at its massive shape.
“I bet you’ve done this to a girl, but have you ever had it done to you?” He started sucking on Dylan’s hard nipples, prompting the guy’s feet to kick out at the air, trying to ride waves of rapture.
“Ohhhhh!” Dylan struggled free, covering his nipples with an arm like a modest schoolgirl. “Holy shit, I didn’t even know I had feelings there. That’s wild.”
Wild was the word. Dane had released something primal in this guy that suddenly took over. Without any further coaxing, Dylan was pawing at Dane’s body. Pulling his jeans off with a single thrust. Licking and kissing. Grinding his mighty hips against Dane who felt like putty in his hands.
Seeking a more active role in all of this, Dane playfully bit
Dylan’s bicep causing him shudder. The guy’s entire body seemed highly sensitive, and every move Dane made sent him reeling in delight.
“Suck me, dude. Do it.”
Dane obliged, opening Dylan’s Levis and shimmying them off.
He started by softly licking Dylan’s furry balls. And then licked his way to the head of the surfer’s dick, pausing for a moment before taking the entire eight inches down his throat. Dylan leaned back, arms behind his head, squeezing the pillows. He wiggled and writhed, as though trying to escape, but moved his hips back up to meet Dane each time he pulled away. This straight boy was about the same length as Sawyer, Dane noted, but much thicker. A real mouthful.
Seconds later, Dane forgot all about his boyfriend. And was lost in lust.
“Fuck. Fuck. Oh… Fuuuu-uuuck!”
Dane looked up at Dylan, just to make sure everything was all right. That’s when the surfer shouted, “Well, don’t stop!” Shrugging, Dane went back to work. Demanding actors!
Somewhere nearby, Katy Perry began to sing “I Kissed A Girl.”
Neither of the men on the bed noticed.
By the time the song stopped, DeMille was looking down at
Dane’s impressive dick, considering his next move. Then, slowly, he moved his face even with the formidable shaft. “This is so fucked up,” he muttered to himself. For a second, Dane feared that the guy might go psycho. But then Dylan laughed and swallowed Dane whole.
“Son of a –”
If this was his first time sucking dick, Dane would never have guessed it. Dylan threw himself into the task, occasionally choking in his enthusiasm. He pulled his mouth off Dane’s endowment and apologized.
“It’s all good. Really. It’s really good.” Dane decided to see if Dylan was willing to take this to the next level. “Feel like trying something new?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Can I … fuck you?”
Dylan looked at him doubtfully. This was pushing too far.
Fortunately, the surfer was too physically invested to just shut down the production. He wanted satisfaction.
“I’ve got a better idea. Let me fuck you.”
Dane paused, warily looking at the guy’s beer can of a cock.
Dylan sat up, kissed him hard on the mouth, and pleaded, “Let me fuck you, dude.” After a moment of reflection, Dane reached over for a condom and a bottle of lube. DeMille lay back, enjoying the attention as Dane carefully rolled the rubber onto his heavy cock and liberally applied lubricant. He put a little more into his hand and massaged it into his butthole. A second look convinced Dane to pour even more onto Dylan’s pole. The surfer started to rise, ready to take control, but Dane pushed him back. Straddling the guy’s thick torso, he slowly lowered his hips and impaled himself.
“Damn you’re tight!”
“Damn you’re big.”
Dylan’s thickness was stretching Dane’s ass to new proportions.
But after a minute, the discomfort subsided. He could only marvel at how Dylan filled him up. They kissed again. And then Dane started bounce, first with slow, even motions, then with shorter, more spirited gesticulations. Dylan hummed in baritone ecstasy, his arms flailing in the air, looking for something to grab onto. He found Dane’s hips and began pushing him down, into his groin. Dane was dizzy with desire.
“Oh God! Fuck me. Fuck me!”
Dylan rose, lifting Dane along with him. His powerful arms held his sex partner in mid-air, thrusting him again and again against his dick like a well-oiled machine. Dane’s mouth opened in a perfect O, but sound no longer came out. Then they fell against the bed, this time Dylan on top, throwing himself into the video director’s body. Their coupling was electric, ferocious, like two rams butting against each other in the wild.
Shouts and screams filled the air. Somehow, Dane’s right arm lashed out and knocked over one of the lamps. He couldn’t talk, he couldn’t think. He could barely move under the weight and animal convulsions of this straight stud that was reaming him for all he was worth.
Down the street, Jack Fish had had enough. He closed his bedroom window to shut out the erotic sounds. Edgar giggled.
Now Dane locked his legs around Dylan’s hips, not wanting to let the guy go, even for a second. This only energized DeMille who pumped his hips harder, building to a gut-wrenching climax.
“I’m gonna blast!” Obviously, he had seen his share of porn movies, for Dylan dutifully pulled out of Dane’s swollen hole, ripped off the condom and spewed a massive load over his co-star’s neck and face.
The orgasm seemed to last a full thirty seconds, making every vein on his muscular body stand out in protest. “Aaaaaaargh! Ah! Ah!
Ahhhhhhhhhhhh.”
Dane began to jerk himself to a climax, encouraged by Dylan who massaged his own spooge into Dane’s chest and shoulders. “Let it go, dude. Come on.” Dylan accidentally hit Dane’s most erogenous spot, his left nipple. A second later, he came in a stream that shot off-camera.
“How was it?”
“We should do a sequel.”
After the cameras were turned off, Dane threw Dylan a towel and pointed the way to the bathroom where he could take a shower. As he crossed the room, the surfer saw a picture of Sawyer and Dane on the desk. “Who’s that?”
“That’s…”
Dylan’s voice was soft. “You’re not really straight, are you? Is that your boyfriend?”
“Yes…” The answer came out as if Dane weren’t certain. Then, coming to his senses, he repeated himself, “Yeah, that’s him. His name’s Sawyer.”
“You guys going to get married someday?” Dane looked puzzled.
“I heard on the news that they’re thinking of lifting the gay marriage ban.”
“Never thought about it before.”
Dylan nodded. “Wish I had someone special.” He smiled. Then whipped his towel at Dane’s ass. “A girl, though, dude! You’re good, but chicks really turn me on. Love tits.”
“You have some pretty nice ones yourself. Tits, I mean.”
Dylan laughed, rubbing his chest, and disappeared into the bathroom.
What happened next was a blur. The phone rang. Dane, waiting for Dylan to emerge from the shower, answered it.
“Hi, Hon.” It was Sawyer. He sounded excited. “I tried calling earlier. I’m about halfway home. Don’t go to bed. I have a lot to tell you.”
Dane could hear the car revving in the background, negotiating turns at speed. Sawyer was driving with the top open.
“How did it go with Troy?”
Sawyer laughed. “Got him drunk. He told me Converse is his uncle. But that’s not the least of it. I told him I’d invite him to a party sometime at my place but, oh, I wasn’t sure if I would still have a place because of this guy Parker St. John. And Troy flipped out.”
“Flipped out?”
“Yeah, he told me that Parker isn’t really…” Pause. “What the hell is that guy doing?” Next Dane heard a loud bang. Then another.
Sawyer must have dropped the phone but Dane could still hear him shouting. “Oh my God, they’re trying to—” His voice was lost in a sickening cacophony of metal against metal. Then the connection ended.
“Saws? Sawyer!”
Dane wasn’t sure what happened. Had Sawyer gotten into an accident? He was about to try and reconnect when a loud noise sounded from downstairs.
“What the hell?”
The first thud was followed by another. Dane dropped the phone and ran to investigate. No sooner had he reached the main floor than what sounded like a barrage of fists pounded against the front door. Dane paused for a full minute. Then, hearing no further outburst, he opened the door and cautiously peered out. The air was crisp and fresh. The night seemed at peace as the houses of Eldon Court huddled silent and dark. And then something flashed out and caught Dane in the stomach. He doubled over in pain. A hand grabbed him by the hair and pulled him out of the house. Then a foot kicked him down the stairs of the porch. He had just enough time to see someone… two someones… closing in on him. All he knew for sure was that they were wearing dark hoodies that hid their faces in shadow.
“Help!”
Dane grabbed the leg of one of his attackers, holding him off balance. But from the other direction, a fist connected hard with the back of Dane’s neck. He saw stars. Then he felt the battle slip from his fingers as the two college-aged guys pummeled him. In disoriented terror, Dane blindly lifted his hands to ward off jabs that came at him from every direction at once. He was screwed and he knew it.
“Hey!” An authoritative shout cracked the air.
Then a dark freight train rushed from the porch in a single fluid movement, crashing into both intruders and knocking them to the ground.
Taking advantage of the respite of hostility directed at him, Dane crawled clear of the ruckus, trying to gather his wits. When he looked back, Dylan had thrown one guy into the bushes and was clobbering the other with body shots. Clad only in a pair of Hanes underwear, he looked like a gladiator in battle. He certainly fought like one. As one aggressor slumped to the grass, the other reemerged. Dylan deflected a punch with one massive arm, and then popped the guy in the face, snapping his head back.
Dane heard the kid’s nose crack.
That was enough. The attackers ran.
Dylan feinted a step as though he were going to follow, but instead came to Dane’s side. He examined his host’s face. “You okay?
What was that about?”
“Beats the hell out of me.”
“Just about, I’d say.”
Within the house, there was a crash. Dylan and Dane turned toward the sound. They paused for a second, exchanged a look and then bolted inside. Someone had just exited the back door, breaking the window in the process. Dylan left Dane’s side to give chase through the back yard.
Dane looked around to see if anything had been taken. Everything appeared to be in its place.
And then it hit him.
He took the stairs two, then three at a time. When he reached the third floor, he already knew what to expect. His computer was gone. So was the external hard drive. Dane sat on the bed for a moment in confusion. Why? Why did this happen?
And what happened to Sawyer?
Dane remembered his lover’s last words before leaving the house for Los Angeles. “Erase that.” But he hadn’t. Now the video was gone.
Number One Eldon Court felt haunted to Dane Walters. Someone had violated his home. Not sure where to turn, Dane finished dressing and stumbled across the street to his brother’s place, only to find no one there.
He curled into a wicker chair on the porch, knees to his chin, and wrapped his arms around his legs. He watched the street, clutching his cell phone tightly. Praying for Sawyer to call, to say everything was all right. If he did, Dane would ask Sawyer to marry him. He couldn’t live without his lover. It was even hard to breathe. “Be safe,” he had said before Sawyer pulled out of the driveway. But they weren’t. None of them were. Now his mind ran wild. Thinking the worst.
When Aaron and Paolo arrived home, they rushed to his side. He tried to explain. Minutes later, Edgar and Jack came out outside and joined them.
“I thought I heard a commotion.”
And then, out of the darkness (and out of breath) came Dylan. He was headed for Dane’s place, but when he saw the crowd across the street, he approached. Between pants, he managed, “They got away. I chased them … but they got into a car.” He lifted his hands hopelessly.
Nobody else said a word. All stared at the muscular guy in the tighty-whities.
“Uh, who are you?” Aaron was ready to defend his brother.
Dane pulled him back. “He’s okay. His name is Dylan. He’s the new star of Straight to Bed.”
Dylan, looking uncomfortable in his state of under-dress, nodded to the group. “Dylan DeMille.”
Edgar stared at the young man’s bulge. “Well, I’m ready for my close-up.”
