The Raw Prawn

by Connie Bailey

  “Leith asked me that and I gave him some cheek, but the truth is….”

  “What?” Stanwell leaned closer. “Tell me, I’m really keen to know, because when you were mine, you couldn’t do enough to please me. Remember?”

  “I remember when Leith tossed me to you like a bone to a dog. It’s not something you forget. If you want my thanks for training me so well, you can fuck right off.”

  “Never tell me that the things I taught you weren’t useful in your career,” Hugh leered. “What are you grinning at?”

  “Earlier I was thinking how soft I’ve gotten lately, and here you are telling me what a hard cunt I am. It’s just funny.”

  Stanwell put a hand inside his jacket. “I could shoot you and be away from here before anybody even caught on to what happened.”

  “I reckon you’ll have to. I’m going to walk away from you now toward something I didn’t know I wanted until you threatened to take it away. You’ve just convinced me; I love that bloke across the street, and if he still wants me when all this shite settles, I’m never going to let him out of my sight again.”

  “You’re joking.”

  Russ took a step toward the mouth of the alley and Stanwell drew his gun. Russ didn’t slow down; he kept moving toward the chance-met stranger who had stolen his heart piece by piece. He knew he might die at any minute, but at least he would die trying to reach what he wanted most in this world. He’d spent too many years acquiescing to the whims of those he thought held power over him. There was only one power that mattered. Only one force that would have sway over him from this time on. Without a backward glance, he walked away from everything he knew.

  Chapter Eight

  Bugger All

  BEN DAVIS spotted Jen at her favorite table and saw the American boy sitting across from her. His excellent intuition kicked into high gear as he scanned the immediate area for any sign of Russ Bridger, the Thunder from Down Under, as the lad was known to his peers. The policeman’s incipient smile evaporated when his gaze happened across the high-priced rent boy.

  Standing directly behind Russ was the only rat to escape the trap Davis and his colleagues had sprung barely an hour ago. He had no idea how Stanwell had found the kid, but he had no doubt what the thug’s plans were. Taking a slow step back, Davis slipped behind a parked truck and duck-walked around the corner. Rising from his crouch, he slipped behind the row of buildings ’til he reached the alley his quarry was in. His heart was pounding so hard he was afraid Stanwell would hear him coming, but the gunman was intent on his prey. With an ease that even he found hard to believe when recounting the tale years later, he stuck his finger in the enforcer’s back and took his weapon.

  It was a story Ben Davis was often called upon to recount over a pint or two in the local law enforcement’s favorite pub. One of their own had almost single-handedly brought down the city’s toughest up-and-coming crime boss, shutting down a range of illegal enterprises including prostitution, the sale of hard drugs, and the manufacture and distribution of pornography. In the process, quite a few heads rolled in the upper echelons of the police department when the extent of Leith’s network of corruption was exposed. Hugh Stanwell, Leith’s close associate, was persuaded to give evidence against his former employer in exchange for a more lenient sentence and a cell far away from the colleagues he helped to convict. Rumors that the handsome thug was the belle of the ball on his cellblock did not disturb Ben Davis in the least. After hearing the deposition of the informant who broke the case, Officer Davis considered Stanwell’s fate a poetic justice. Jason Leith, originally indicted on charges of tax evasion, was eventually sentenced to the longest term of imprisonment handed down in modern times. “He’ll never see daylight again,” was how Ben liked to end his story. Of course the saga doesn’t just end with the bad guys getting caught; there are more loose ends than that to be tied up.

  “No, I don’t think I’d be into bondage,” Jarold said. “I haven’t tried it, but….”

  “Then you can’t really have an opinion, one way or the other,” Russ maintained.

  “How did we get on this subject?”

  “We were talking about prison, which led to handcuffs, and then manacles, and here we are.”

  Jarold looked around the judge’s chambers before fixing his gaze on Russ. “Yeah. Here we are. Whenever I think of how close I came to losing you.… I’ll never be able to thank Ben enough. If he hadn’t come along and arrested Stanwell….”

  Russ shrugged inside his new suit. “Who knows? I don’t think Hugh was going to pull the trigger. He’s not that stupid.”

  “You don’t be stupid either. When the judge, I mean magistrate, talks, you just listen. If he asks you a question, you say ‘yes, sir’ or ‘no, sir’. They’re really bending over backward to keep you from doing time, and the least you can do is show some respect.”

  Russ’s eyebrows went up. “What’s all this newfound respect for authority? Thought you were an airy-fairy, bugger-all free spirit.”

  “I told you I was a seeker. Whatever assumptions you made are not my—”

  Russ leaned forward in his cushy leather chair and covered Jarold’s mouth with his. His tongue flicked out, teasing the seam of the other man’s lips in an almost subliminal caress. They drew apart at the sound of footsteps outside the door, Russ wearing a smug smile at the blurry beacon of desire he’d kindled in Jarold’s eyes. They both stood and then relaxed again as they recognized Ben Davis.

  “You’re a lucky sod, Bridger,” Davis said without preamble. “I shouldn’t be here telling you this, but Jen just rang me, and I knew how nervous you must be.” The policeman stopped and looked from Jarold to Russ and back, noting the sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks. “Though it would appear you have your own means of making the time pass pleasantly, I dashed over to give you the good news. The court, on Jen’s advice, is willing to take Russ’s deposition into record, and Stanwell’s turned on his boss. That means you won’t have to testify, you lucky bludger. Leith’s gang has been rounded up, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t arrange an accident for our intrepid young informant.” David eyed Russ. “When the magistrate gets here, you’ll have a decision to make about your future.”

  “You’re talking about witness protection, aren’t you?” Jarold asked.

  Ben nodded. “We have that here in Australia,” he said. “All the mod cons.”

  “Modern conveniences,” Russ translated automatically.

  Jarold rolled his eyes in the way that made Russ want to kiss him and smack his bottom at the same time. “I’m not going anywhere without Jazza,” Russ said.

  Officer Davis nodded. “I suppose I should thank you. I’m being promoted, and I’ve got a story I can drink out on for the rest of my life.”

  “Are you going to start it by telling the audience you were starkers at the beach?” Russ wanted to know.

  “You might not want to take that tone with the magistrate,” Ben said mildly.

  “That’s what I told him,” Jarold said.

  “I don’t much fancy having my fate decided for me,” Russ said.

  “Those are the consequences when you break the law,” Ben said. “I know you’re not a bad man, but you made some bad choices. You can’t change the past; you can only pay and move on, unless you’re the sort who never learns his lesson.”

  Russ swallowed the impulsive retort that sprang to his lips and thought about his answer before he spoke. “You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve changed in the past week,” he said. “I’ve got something worth holding on to now, and I won’t risk losing it for something as trivial as my pride.”

  “Good man,” the policeman said. “I doubt you’ll have an easy road, but if you don’t mind some advice that has stood me in good stead: be true to yourself. It’s trite and it’s treacley, but fuck me if it isn’t the secret to happiness.”

  “Who gave you that brilliantly original insight?” Russ asked.

  “Sister Mary Misery. I was nine
years old, and her use of the phrase ‘fuck me’ has stuck with me for all of these years.”

  Jarold chuckled and Russ joined in as the door opened, announcing the magistrate’s arrival. As Ben Davis had predicted, Russ was offered the protection of the state and given time to think about it. He was also given a fair amount of stern, avuncular advice about his future, a clarification as to just how fortunate he was to escape serving a sentence, and a rather lengthy lecture on every citizen’s obligation to follow the law. To his credit, Russ stood it with not one twitch of an eyebrow and kept his mouth shut until it was time to thank the judge. It helped a lot that Jarold’s knee, hidden by the desk, rested against his in warm, unspoken support. After shaking the magistrate’s hand, they were shown out.

  “We’ve booked you rooms at a very nice hotel,” Ben said as they walked down the hall. “There’s a police car waiting outside with your escorts.”

  “Escorts for an escort,” Russ chuckled.

  Ben groaned. “I am so thankful I’m not guarding you. I’d probably do you in myself.”

  The boys shook hands with the policeman and got into the car. It took Russ about thirty seconds to charm their bodyguards into stopping at a bottle shop. When they reached the hotel, he took Jarold and a decent red wine into the bedroom and locked the door, prepared for some indecency. Jarold indulged him, as it was impossible to resist him, and they spent a few lively minutes necking against the door of the suite with Russ doing his best to dry hump Jarold into the next room. When the soft rhythmic pounding got the attention of their minders, they broke apart long enough for Russ to open the wine. He took a long drink right from the bottle and passed it to Jarold. “To us, Jazza,” he said.

  Jarold took a healthy swallow. “To you and me,” he said. “Mind if we talk about that a little bit before we get down to business?”

  “Yes, I bloody well do mind. As soon as you put down that bottle, I’m going to fling you down and have my wicked way with you. And I fully expect you to do the same to me.”

  Jarold took another drink of the wine. “Hey, this is pretty good,” he said. “I really like Australian reds. What do you think?”

  “I think you’re stalling. All right then, what shall we talk about?”

  “Come home with me.”

  “What? To America?”

  “No, Mars. Of course America, you dozy git.”

  “Not half bad,” Russ remarked on Jarold’s use of slang. “But you still sound like a Pom.”

  “Be serious, please. I want you to consider the USA as an alternative to witness protection. You can keep your name, which I happen to like, and we can work for the family business until we decide what to do. We’ll be as safe as you would be here. The town my folks live in is so small that any stranger attracts attention. It’s not perfect, but….”

  “No, it sounds great,” Russ said quickly. “I’m just a little worried about what your mum and dad will think of me.”

  “I told you, they’re liberals. And my sister’s going to love you. I just need to talk to them and clear up a couple of things. I didn’t exactly leave on good terms.”

  Russ sat on the sofa and pulled Jarold down across his lap. “I knew there was a story there when I first met you,” he said.

  “Not much of one. My parents wanted me to go to college. I said I would and they set it all up, but I dropped out after the first year. They weren’t mad at me, but I know how much they want me to have a good education. Anyway, when I finally ran completely out of money, I didn’t want to call them and admit I couldn’t go it on my own. I almost made a terrible mistake, but somebody must like me, ’cause I ran into you instead of some dirtbag with no conscience. When I explain that to my mom and dad, they’ll welcome you with open arms.”

  “You’re going to tell them about the…?” Russ’s words trailed off.

  “I’m gonna tell them everything… well, maybe not about my stint as a porn star, but they’re going to know from the start that we’re a couple.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I know them,” Jarold said, resting his forehead against Russ’s. “Even if they don’t like you, they’ll respect my decision. But they will like you. How could anybody not like you?”

  “It’s a mystery. So where in America would we live?”

  “Well, the family has a place in upstate New York and another near Ocala, Florida.”

  Russ blinked. “Are you rich?”

  “Nope, but my folks are, relatively speaking.”

  “What do they do?”

  “Breed racing thoroughbreds.”

  “You aren’t going to pull a glass slipper out of your arse, are you?”

  “Would it be a problem? ’Cause we don’t have to do this. We can stay here in Australia, if that’s what you want. I just want you to be happy.”

  “It’s just a bit much is all. Next I’ll find you want to make an honest man of me.”

  “That’s my plan,” Jarold smiled, stirring the curls at Russ’s nape with his nose.

  “So you’d go home and do as your family wishes so I can be happy?”

  “I always intended to work with the ponies someday,” Jarold said. “Would that suit you?”

  “Sport, I was raised in the saddle on my grandda’s place in Western Australia. Couldn’t wait to come to the city, but maybe the country is where I belong.”

  “We could give it a try. I’m not saying we’ll live happily ever after, but who does? I’ll bet Snow White got pretty ticked off at Prince Charming once or twice.”

  “I heard the poncy bastard was having it off with Sleeping Beauty.”

  “Is that your version of saying yes?”

  “No, this is,” Russ said as he put an arm around Jarold’s back and lowered him to the cushions. His lips were millimeters from Jarold’s when the other man spoke.

  “No nooky until I get an answer.”

  “Are you the sort that withholds sex, Jazza?”

  “All right, you called my bluff.” Jarold lifted his head, pressing his open mouth to Russ’s, wrapping an arm around Russ’s neck to pull him down, chest to chest. Russ pulled his legs from under Jarold’s and pushed a knee between Jarold’s thighs. Jarold levered his pelvis, bringing his arousal into contact with the hard muscles of Russ’s thigh as it snugged up against his crotch. One-handed, he worked Russ’s belt buckle and zipper until he could reach the stiff column of flesh that curved so perfectly against his palm.

  Russ groaned in Jarold’s ear as he kissed his way down the clean line of the other man’s jaw and neck to the sweet dip between the wings of his collarbones.

  “Every time is like the first time,” Jarold said softly. “I feel the same rush, hot and cold at the same time, like I’m glass in a furnace, melting slowly, being spun into some new shape. It’s so powerful that it scares me a little.”

  “Just a little?” Russ nuzzled at Jarold’s left nipple. “It scares me spitless, sport. It’s just too bloody unlikely. Too good to be true, but I’m going to get all I can before I wake up.”

  Jarold laughed, squeezing Russ’s arousal tightly as he toyed with the piercings. “I guess that’s a good attitude,” he said.

  “You were coming over all poetic,” Russ said. “I had to say something before we started weeping and went soft.”

  “That’s not gonna happen,” Jarold said confidently, bumping his crotch against Russ’s knee. “All you have to do is look at me and I’m hard.”

  “I should bottle that and make my fortune.”

  “Not sure there’s a market for a product that turns straight men gay,” Jarold teased.

  Russ gave Jarold a look that warned him he was in for it as he lunged. A brief but fierce tickle fight ensued, leaving them both breathless with Russ lying on top of Jarold. Action recommenced with some long, deep kisses, hands sliding under shirts, undoing buttons, pushing down trousers, the hard ridges of their erections rubbing together. There was a brief intermission with a trip to the bathroom, Russ returning triump
hant with a bottle of moisturizer and looking a question at Jarold.

  “Yeah. Yes,” Jarold whispered urgently. “Do it. I want you inside me. All of you. Now.”

  Russ did as Jarold asked, but he took his time about it, watching the enamel-blue eyes go molten with desire. With the shifting sway of hips he’d acquired on horseback and riding the surf, Russ rocked Jarold against the cushions, stroking his lover’s hard cock to the same primitive rhythm until the American’s breath caught in his throat, and he came with a bone-deep shudder that triggered Russ’s release. Gasping for breath, they clung together as bliss bloomed at their core and the glad tidings were carried to their farthest shores. Where they would live was not really important, for they were already home.

  Chapter Nine

  Epilogue

  THE RAW PRAWN pounded down the home stretch with nearly two lengths of daylight between her and the nearest competitor. The strawberry roan filly had been handily winning every race she was entered in, showing the big colts a pair of clean heels at each finish line she crossed.

  Captain Ben Davis was very pleased with the American two-year-old’s performance at Sydney’s premier racetrack. She had just garnered him a small fortune. Leaning forward in the plush owners’ box, he watched his hosts as they walked into the winners’ circle to make a fuss over their “pony.”

  The tall filly whinnied, tossing her head eagerly as she caught the scent of her favorite two-legs. Her plum-dark eyes glowing with the fire that made her a champion, she whuffed a greeting, and her jockey took a firmer grip with his knees. Stretching her neck, Prawnie, as she was affectionately known, lipped at the blond curls of the man who raised a hand to the crowd. His mate rubbed Prawnie’s velvet muzzle and that place behind her chin that made her eyelids droop in equine ecstasy.

  “Well done, gentlemen,” Ben said under his breath.

  Jennifer Coolidge looked up from drawing on the lavender gloves that matched her chic suit. Her critical eye approved Ben’s new look since he’d gotten off the streets and into the office. With a little guidance from friends he’d made during the Leith arrests, Davis was rising fast in the department, despite his decision to be open about his sexual orientation. He joked a bit about the smart figure he cut being a gay stereotype, but Jen suspected that Ben loved wearing the designer clothes. “Fancy a drink?” she asked.