Not knowing what to say to that compliment, Lisa inclined her head and drew back. Quickly…but not running away. Not her.
Whew. What the hell else could happen today? That was a marked improvement but my goodness. How much weirdness could one woman be expected to take?
Chapter Six
Julian stared down at the clear, flawless crystal ball, willing his mind into the future. A trite technique. Overdone and incredibly clichéd. But sometimes the best option was the tried and true. Not that crystal gazing worked like it did in Hollywood B movies. Swirling smoke and hazy, mystical images didn’t twist, twine or gambol within a green, glowing sphere. No, it was more of a meditative device, a physical mantra. Something solid to help peel back layers of the invisible. Staring into the clear, bottomless depth helped him empty his mind. Helped him pull away from the present and look into the myriad futures with his inner eye.
He couldn’t see as far or as clearly this way as he did with his dreams. In his dreams time lost all meaning, all anchor. Past, present and future collided in a kaleidoscope of colors and emotions. But what he lost in power and clarity he gained in direction in his conscious state. He could guide his sight, control it, look for particular things.
An important skill for a private eye.
Not that his power hadn’t caused its own measure of difficulties and obstacles in his life. Nothing good ever comes without a cost.
A familiar voice, one that caught him at odd moments, echoed out of his personal past. Cold, controlled, steely anger. “First you tell your mother that you’re bisexual. I could overlook that. At least you could still settle down with a nice girl, have kids and get whatever other kicks you needed behind closed doors. But now you have the balls to tell me you’re a new-aged psychic con-artist? You expect me to do what? Support your delusions? You better be thankful you’ve already enlisted. Maybe the military can beat this rebellious crap out of you. I’m tired of trying. Have all your things gone in the morning. I don’t want to see your face.”
His father’s face stood out in stark, bloodless white. Not even anger could heat that appalled visage. It still amazed Julian that his father hadn’t completely disowned him that night.
The image flickered and snapped. Next the shriek of braking tires followed by the ripping sound of angry metal pulled Julian into the past once more. As in his first dream, the night it happened, he saw his mother’s terrified expression moments before jagged metal shot through her window, slicing through her skull. Instant death.
His father’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the wheel, fighting to keep the car upright as the semi slammed into it, over it. A sharp snap sounded as his father’s head slammed into his mother’s then against his window, shattering the safety glass. His arms fell useless to his sides.
Julian watched as paramedics fought to keep his paralyzed father’s heart beating and lungs pumping as other workers zipped his mother into a long, gleaming black bag.
So the call from friends in New York hadn’t shocked him. The call from his father’s attorney had.
Guess Dad didn’t feel like leaving everything to the historical society or Mom’s green charity of the month after all. Either that or he thought he had another decade or two to straighten out his perverted, recalcitrant son before resorting to changing his will.
Too bad the old man couldn’t see the future.
Julian forced the past out of his mind, staring deeper into the crystal, shoving his way through layers, ribbons, strands. Lisa Harrington. He needed to concentrate on Lisa Harrington, needed information. He needed the now, the near future. After seeing her, being near her, wanting her, he had to know more about her. How should he approach her? What were her habits? Where would it be easiest to “run into” her? He couldn’t keep coming to her restaurant all the time. That smacked of stalker.
He might be hunting her, haunting her movements, but he wasn’t a stalker. He meant her no harm and didn’t want to scare her.
Not that he’d done too good a job of that the last time.
Julian looked deep within himself, watching his own internal movie screen. Time flickered before his eyes—images, impressions, emotions, potentials. A hundred different possibilities. Lives like threads spinning out in trillions of directions. Choices and consequences. Moments and coincidences. Turning points. Knots and kinks. Moments of unraveling. He pulled at the thin, glowing thread that belonged to Lisa. A thread that twined with his own, twisted with Tim’s.
Or did it break off?
Looking that far this way was impossible. Individual threads became lost in the greater weave. Too many different possibilities, different futures to consider. Instead he looked at the near future, the next day.
Coffee, bagels, gossip. Breakfast with a friend. Meeting twice at a meal seemed too much for coincidence. Don’t want to get her suspicions up. Ah, here’s a place. Sweat, pop music and more gossip. Afternoon at the gym. Workout and relieve stress. He belonged to the same gym, just went to a different location. That could work. “I decided to try the newer facility.” What a coincidence, a believable coincidence.
His mind released her thread, watching as it wound and writhed out into the multiple futures. He pulled back into himself again, reeling in his own energy. His mind settled into the present, easing back into reality. With a smile, he leaned back in his chair, setting the springs squeaking. The lights of his candles flickered and smoked a waxy, herbal scent. He could hear a mumble of movement in the rooms beyond, Tim coming home from work. Then the stereo clicked on some slow, mellow music.
Tim and his music. Every moment of his life had a soundtrack. How could he have survived all those years in silence before Tim came bursting into his life? And now if all went well, he’d have Lisa. Another person, bringing new habits to embrace in enjoyment.
He leaned back more and rolled his head, loosening the tension tightening his neck and shoulders with a few pops and groans. So much to think about. So much to consider. So much to plan.
Nothing like the weight of the world lying on your shoulders, or at least your small slice of the world. Enlisting was the best thing he could have done to prepare himself to deal with this kind of pressure. The military taught more than basic skills. It taught a resilience in the face of adversity that served him well.
But it was the personal aspect that threw him. Not only were lives hanging on his decisions, but also hearts. Emotional futures. The happiness of people he cared for.
At least now he had Tim to share the burden with. Without him, Julian didn’t know how he could survive. Someone with a different view, different ideas. And someday, if their luck held out, Lisa would be there for them both as well.
He wouldn’t allow himself to believe anything else.
Julian leaned forward and blew out the candles, watching the curls of smoke twist in the air. His joints creaked and muscles clenched as he stood with a moan. He glanced over at the digital clock on his desk. Two hours. He didn’t feel like he’d been sitting there for two straight hours. Only his aches and pains were testament to the stillness of his concentration.
Either that or his age. Thirty wasn’t that old, was it?
He found Tim in the darkened living room, curled on the couch and staring out the window at the city lights stretching out below. The room’s shades of green deepened into dark grays in the dim light. An open bottle of red wine sat on the trunk-turned-coffee table with two large, bulbous glasses, one empty and one half full.
Julian flopped down beside him, reaching for the bottle and the empty glass. He poured a half glass for himself, swirling it in his hand as he joined in on the window-gazing. He took a deep drink, letting the tart, oak-tinted taste fill his mouth.
“You were gazing for a while. I was starting to worry. Did you get anything?” Tim asked, turning away from the window.
Julian kept his attention on the twinkling neon of the Las Vegas skyline. Glitter punctuated by pyrotechnics and strobes. He took another sip as he collect
ed his thoughts. “Nothing shocking. Just found where she would be tomorrow. I’m arranging a chance meeting. I’ll take your advice and go alone this time.”
“Good idea, must’ve been mine,” Tim teased, reaching for his own glass. “Anything else?”
“No,” Julian replied, his voice sounding desperate and hopeless even to himself. But he understood his own limitations. He couldn’t have gotten more information than he did. “With all the various possibilities converging so soon, I had trouble pinpointing her at all.”
“But you did,” Tim answered, encouraging as he put his glass back down and scooted closer, his loving aura flowing over Julian. “That must mean something.”
Julian snorted, his lips narrowing and his face tightening. “Like what, the higher powers support us? I should hope so. We’re protecting the world from inter-dimensional invasion. Why wouldn’t they support us?”
Tim raised both hands, eyes widening. “Hey, no getting defensive,” he said in a soothing tone, pacifying. “I’m trying to look for a good omen here. Something to hold on to.”
Julian wanted to snap at Tim, wanted to rip into him and release his impotent fury on someone. But that kind of attitude, that type of negativity, was what got their race in this situation in the first place. Too much hatred, anger and frustration built up in a small area put stress on the barriers between dimensions. A rift formed. Unchecked, the rift grew until creatures could pass from one reality to another.
Atlantis. Pompeii. The fall of Rome. San Francisco in 1906. The list of destruction was endless, stretching out for countless eons throughout human history. Even longer was the list of near-misses. Times when a group of Three stopped the destruction, mended the rift, protected mankind.
Gods willing, the fate of Las Vegas would go on the second list.
Julian took another sip of wine and wrapped his arm around Tim’s shoulder. He pulled him tight, enjoying Tim’s slighter if still muscular form arching into him. Tim laid his hand on Julian’s upper thigh, petting upward.
Julian smiled. Tim had a difficult time understanding how Julian could look the other way when it came to his work. Tim expected to be judged, and had been judged by so many people for so many years. He always braced himself for contempt and rejection. But Julian couldn’t do it, couldn’t think any less of the man. Tim craved dancing, loved being the center of attention. He thrived on all those positive, energizing emotions swirling around him.
And Tim always came home horny. What red-blooded man in his right mind would stop something that caused his lover to jump him? He might not be entirely comfortable with the thought of all those people lusting after Tim night after night, but who was he to complain? It was Tim’s life, Tim’s choice. And Julian loved the fringe benefits attached since he was the only one sleeping with him.
Julian leaned closer and placed a soft kiss on the crown of Tim’s head. Tim muttered something and snuggled closer, burrowing into Julian’s side.
Julian waited, heart jumping in his chest. That tangible bond between them flared, pulsed. His nerves jangled to sharp alert and his breath paused in fervent anticipation.
Tim’s hand slid up. Barely grazing Julian’s crotch, he kept going until he worked Julian’s shirt loose. Sharp, mischievous teeth latched on his earlobe. Nimble fingers caressed bare skin. Julian’s stomach twitched under the contact, a sensation bordering between sensual pleasure and a tickle.
The teeth that nibbled at his ear swerved the sensation firmly into electrifying pleasure.
Julian shivered and groaned. He pulled Tim closer, sliding the fingers of his free hand through his lover’s hair and crushing Tim’s eager lips against his own.
A moan rumbled in the back of Tim’s throat, adding urgency to each touch of tongues, teeth and lips. Julian met the moan as the rich, familiar and well-loved flavor of Tim rushed his mouth.
Julian pushed Tim back, laying him across the couch. Frantic hands tore at fabric. T-shirts, jeans, socks, boxers all fell prey, flying across the room. Bare flesh met bare flesh with a groan.
Tim laughed, reaching up to flick a stray lock of Julian’s silky dark hair back in place. “Missed me, huh? Just what kinda things were you watching in that head of yours, Oh Great Voyeur?”
“Watch it, kid,” Julian growled, holding the other man’s shoulders down, heart clenching as he looked down at the one thing in the world that meant the most to him.
“Or what? You’ll spank me?” Tim batted his eyelashes and grinned as he ran his fingers up and down Julian’s sides. “You know how much I love it when you spank me. I’ve been a bad, bad boy.”
Laughter and desire warred, a feeling Julian would always associate with Tim. Love and laughter. Sex and fun.
He couldn’t let Tim get away with it. Hell, from the waves coming off him, Julian knew Tim didn’t want to get away with the innuendo unpunished.
Julian rolled off Tim. He pulled the other man to his feet, forcing one arm behind his back. Keeping Tim off balance, he leaned forward to whisper in his lover’s ear. “If you’ve been that bad, maybe we should take your punishment into the bedroom. I think you might need to be restrained.”
Tim shuddered and panted. Julian knew how much Tim loved this particular kink, loved playing the bottom. The loss of control. The undivided attention. The physical worship. A chance to lay back and just feel.
Sinking into his part as Top, Julian licked the side of Tim’s face, his teeth latching onto an earlobe. He tugged sharply before snarling, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Pushing Tim down the hallway, Julian grinned. Tim didn’t put up the slightest struggle, stumbling forward wherever Julian guided without comment.
He didn’t bother switching on the lights. He left the door open, letting the hall lights bathe the bedroom in dim illumination. Not so dark that they couldn’t see, but dark enough to soften the edges, giving a hint of mystery to the scene. Taking a step back from the harshness of reality.
Julian shoved Tim facedown on the king-sized bed dominating the center of the stark room, careful to aim his fall away from the wooden posts standing guard at each corner. This was about seducing the mind, not causing any real harm. He had the responsibility to care for and bring Tim pleasure, bringing himself pleasure at the same time.
“Don’t think about moving,” he sneered, knowing what the harsh, commanding sound of his voice would do to Tim. His lips twitched as he watched Tim struggle to obey his command when his body craved contact, movement. He whimpered, squirming and swinging his ripe, curvaceous ass.
Tim shook his head, hands clutching at the comforter, twisting the fabric in desperation.
Julian’s grin grew. Oh the fun they would have.
He turned to his side table, where they kept the props for this particular fantasy. He pulled out two pairs of cuffs. Each cuff was made of thickly padded cloth with adjustable Velcro. The two parts clipped together so they could be separated if needed or an extension chain could be added for situations like this. They were comfortable, not biting, while secure enough to endure pulling and twisting. Tim wouldn’t be able to free himself by accident, remaining secure as long as they kept up their game.
But either man could release the Velcro with a bit of concentrated effort. If an emergency happened, the “victim” could free himself.
Julian and Tim relished exploring different flavors of pleasure and desire, light, playful and joy-filled or dark, raunchy and brutal. Neither one truly wanted to rule or control the other. Neither needed dominance or submission for sexual satisfaction. It was a form of play and release, not a lifestyle. Neither saw themselves as part of the BDSM community.
That didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy the hell out of it from time to time.
Julian leaned over Tim, clipping one side of the cuffs on his wrist and the other around one of the bedposts, massive, ornately carved with ancient runes. He secured the other arm the same way, sliding Tim down the bed until there was no slack in the chains.
He lic
ked his way up Tim’s spine. His lover moaned, tugging at his bindings. Julian bit the place his neck and shoulders met, a hot button guaranteed to send Tim soaring. Tim heaved up, yanking at the chains and cuffs.
“Now, now, bad boy,” teased Julian, pushing him back down before checking that the cuffs weren’t cutting off circulation. “You wanted this. You have to take it now, whatever I give you and however I wanna give it to you.”
Tim whimpered but settled down, no longer all but humping the bed. Julian sat up on his knees, looking down at the bounty spread before him. All that sensitive, responsive flesh anticipating whatever stimulus he chose to give. Sweet, sin-filled heaven bound and tied for the taking.
Julian ran his hands up and down Tim’s back, listening to him purr and watching anticipation-tightened muscles release. He played with the shorter hairs at the base of Tim’s neck, soft and velvety beneath the fall of his golden hair. He slid his fingers through the long waves, a sheet of silken decadence. Something about the soft golden sheen spread across his pillow always kicked him in the gut, tightening both his heart and cock. He moved down and squeezed tense ass muscles, dipping a single finger in the crack between.
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