Alphas of Sin

by Anthology

  Someone more gay. Someone who gave a shit about facial cleansers and the new Ferragamos.

  Damn.

  “So, what do you do here?” the medical examiner asked.

  “Security, medic.”

  His brow rose. “Medic?”

  “BDSM isn’t always clean and neat. There are plenty of curiosity seekers, like Don, who think it’s funny and something to play around in. It’s not. You have to have a healthy respect for the human condition.”

  “Are you…” the medical examiner—Paul—asked.

  Tracey laughed. “Me? Nah. I’m into just a little light kink. Bedroom stuff. Tie me up and spank me, blindfold me. Nothing more.” Sweet Jesus, did I just say that? “So, was Don the reason you were…uh…” Damn again.

  Paul nodded. “Yes. He was my date.”

  Tracey watched as his perfect lips wrapped around the edge of the glass. His cock did more than twitch. He swallowed hard and realized that he would not be able to move from the stool. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wisconsin trying not to laugh. Little bitch.

  Paul shrugged. “If I had known this was a kink club, I never would have come. Don is the worst sort of pickled hipster.”

  Tracey choked on his sip of beer. “Pickled hipster?”

  Laughing, Paul picked up his drink. “He smells like discontinued Axe Body spray. A lot of it.”

  The chuckle turned into a laugh. “My God, you nailed it. He totally does smell like that. Can I steal that? Warn people in the community about the pickled hipster?”

  Gesturing broadly, Paul nodded. “Please. Feel free.” He held his hand out. “North Hills, by the way.”

  Taking the proffered hand, Tracey shook it firmly. There was a spark there, in the warm lightly calloused grip. He didn’t really want to let go, and instead, let their hands drift apart. “State College. And for the record, I’m glad you let yourself be dragged here.”

  The smile was unmistakable.

  And…the moment was broken by Wisconsin. For just a moment, Tracey wanted to strangle her. Then, he saw what she’d done—a note pad, with two pens, was on the bar top between them as she slunk away.

  “That a hint?” North Hills laughed.

  “They aren’t subtle around here.” Tracey smirked. He looked at North Hills who made no pretense. He grabbed one of the pens and paper and started writing.

  Holy shit, I got his number.

  * * *

  Holy shit. He’s going to give me his number.

  Paul’s insides—and dick—were at odds. His stomach had turned to jelly, and his cock was like a stone. It had been years since he felt this attracted to someone. State College was beyond hot. The suit, the ragged good looks, the hair, the dark brown eyes. Everything about him was perfect.

  He slid the note and his number across the bar. State College folded it in half, and put it in his breast pocket and took the notepad. He wrote for what seemed like a long time, and slid the paper to him, folded.

  Holding up his hand, the bartender—Wisconsin—walked back over.

  “Whatever he wants. My tab. No questions.” He turned back to Paul. “I’m here until closing. I’m glad you came tonight. I need to get back on the clock but…I’ll stop by.”

  Paul was smitten, and he merely nodded. State College took a moment, then touched the back of his hand and walked away.

  He couldn’t wait. He opened the note.

  North Hills—

  It’s been a hard few weeks for me, and you’re first bright spot. The only think Don has ever done right. I hope you’ll stay to closing. I’d love to get to know you better, and maybe we can hit an all night diner. If not—I get it. Call me. 555-3619.

  Tracey

  So, he’d been guessing right when he signed his real name to the bottom. And he could see no reason not to stay to closing. Tomorrow was Saturday, and he didn’t have to go work until Monday.

  It was a perfect plan.

  CHAPTER 3

  Tracey bolted the last of the rooms upstairs, after checking they were empty. Only Dusty Rose was still there, and she was winding her ropes. Franz had long ago given her the back door code so no one had to wait. She was meticulous with her organization in the Shibari room.

  Brad had agreed to walk Wisconsin to her car, so Tracey was free to go.

  Once again, his stomach turned to jelly. He walked down the stairs, one at a time, hoping North Hills was still there.

  State College—

  I didn’t come to flirt, but it seems you have other ideas. Ideas I like. I hope you’ll call. I would love to get to know you, and maybe get dinner sometime. Call me. 555-7517.

  Paul

  He wanted Paul to still be at the bar with Wisconsin. He wanted to spend all night talking. He wanted to steal a kiss. Paul had been there an hour before, but there was no guarantee he’d stayed. Tracey stopped at the bottom of the steps before walking through and took a deep, steadying breath.

  One step, and he looked to his left.

  Wisconsin was laughing as she mopped the bar top.

  And a masculine laugh joined her.

  He was still there.

  Confidence regained a bit, Tracey walked to the bar and slid onto the stool next to Paul.

  “Hi.”

  Paul turned and lit up his world with a simple smile. “Hey.”

  “You stayed.”

  “For a hot ass like yours? You know it.”

  Tracey smirked. He’d thought the same thing.

  “Get a room.” Wisconsin made a few gagging noises.

  Without even turning to look at her, Tracey flipped his friend off. “Fuck off.”

  “Get out. I wanna go home and you two bums are mucking up my bartop.” Wisconsin shoved his arm off and swiped the rag over the top.

  “Wanna get a bite to eat?” Tracey asked, and tossed Wisconsin another middle finger with her whispered, thank God.

  “Only twenty-four hour place I know is Denny’s.”

  Making a face, Tracey agreed—he didn’t want their night to end at a Denny’s.

  “There’s an all night dinner. Danforth’s.”

  “I’ve never heard of that one.” Paul looked confused.

  “Built two years ago. You wouldn’t if you were out of town.” Wisconsin tossed him a wink and a nod. Tracey knew that she had ended a night there a few months before with her now-boyfriend. She’d also given him a hint that Paul had been out of the ‘Burgh for a few years. “Good food.”

  Smirking, Paul assessed him. “Good food? Better company.”

  Clearly, Tracey was going to have to up his flirting game. He also liked the alpha feeling this guy was giving him. Someone who went after what he wanted—and apparently, he wanted Tracey. He wasn’t going to dissuade him. “Let’s go there.” Tracy stood.

  “Do you have your own car?” Paul relinquished his now-empty beer to Wisconsin as she cleaned up.

  “I do.”

  Again, the assessment. Head to toe and the possessive, domineering look just ran up his spine, and it took everything Tracey had not to tent a hard-on. And Paul made a decision. “You drive. My car will be fine here. I can cab it back to grab it later.”

  Not quite sure what to make of that statement, Tracey nodded and motioned Paul to follow him through the halls of the club to the employee entrance. He pulled even to walk next to him on the way to the car. For just a moment, he was almost embarrassed by his car. It was a beater, but it had only been recently that he and Albright had any regular clients for their security firm—money was still very tight. And the beat-down Altima still held up just fine.

  It was a huge relief when Paul didn’t say a thing. After giving his name as North Hill, Tracey had worried what kind of North Hills’er he was—the snotty, generational rich kind or the polite, quiet kind. There was no doubt he came from money by the cut of his clothes. The Altima, as it turned out, was not a deal breaker.

  Shutting the door, Paul buckled himself in. He angled himself in the seat. “Hi. Paul Wainw
right.”

  Tracey turned as well. “Hell. Tracey Dunham. I like that you caught on to the names. And I’m fascinated that our new medical examiner has shown up in a kink club.”

  “I didn’t expect to meet the hot PI in the kink club, either. Is this a part time gig?”

  “My partner and I run a security firm. Franz—Dorn, the owner—contracted with us.”

  “Partner?” The disappointment in Paul’s voice was palpable.

  “Bradley Albright. The guy at the bar with me—oh! No! Brad’s as straight as they come! Shit. He’s married to his Domme, Mellie.

  “So, you are single.”

  “Single and recovering from a mistake.”

  “Don?”

  Tracey laughed. “Don was mild compared to Jay. Three years of utter obliviousness.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Paul sounded honest.

  Dropping the car into gear, Tracey rolled them away from the club and out to Danforth’s All-Nite Diner.

  * * *

  “And then, he had the damn balls to call me and ask for my part of the rent a week later.” Paul shook his head. “All around full blown moron. I wish I hadn’t fallen for his bullshit.”

  “Well, you just hadn’t realized how fake Hollywood really was.”

  “All of Los Angeles. I mean, I left the ‘Burgh because I was tired of the bullshit and lies. I just got my degree and got the hell out. I had to. And I wound up right back here.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  “I’m still a bit of a coward, though. My parents still have no idea I’m gay.”

  “Lack of girlfriends didn’t clue them in?”

  Paul laughed. “Not remotely. You have to realize that people in the one percent still do shit like arranged marriages. I’m sure my parents are cooking one up for me. And they frankly don’t care if I prefer men. Marriage is not always about preference. It’s about continuing the bloodline, getting more branches on the family tree. Hump a baby into someone, and go about your merry way.”

  “You are kidding.”

  “Not remotely. There are a lot of reasons I left. Now, I just need to come out to them and tell them to fuck off.”

  Tracey’s laugh was delightful. It was throaty and full, and Paul could listen to it all night. He practically had. Looking at the clock, he saw it was close to dawn. Four hours and he didn’t want this impromptu date to end.

  Touching the back of his hand, Tracey smiled. “I don’t want to go home either, Paul. Sun’s going to be up soon. Want to watch from Mount Washington?”

  “That sounds amazing.” Paul motioned the waiter over and handed him a bill. “No change.”

  Tracey wasn’t pleased about that, but his arguments were weak. He made sure that when they got to the Duquesne Incline, he bought the tickets. He had to run ahead of Paul to do it like he was a ten-year-old kid, but he managed it. He stuck his tongue out at him to complete the illusion.

  The incline car was empty except for the two of them. The sky above the city was blood red and glowing with the rising sun. Paul realized he had never done this before and as they rose above the road and river below the view only became more spectacular.

  They watched in silence as they rode to the car to the top of the mountain. The yellow bridges dotted the landscape, the rivers flowing quickly, meeting at The Point, and continuing together onward downstream.

  “Like us?” Tracey’s question was right next to him. Paul hadn’t even realized he’d spoken aloud, but he was glad he had. Tracey was so close…

  “Maybe like us.” Paul’s answer was quiet, reserved. He turned and looked at the man standing there with him as his eyes slid to his as well. The chocolate brown sideways glance last only a moment before Paul stepped into Tracey and spun him to face him, and took his mouth in a bruising kiss.

  It was the kiss he had been waiting for his whole life. Hard, demanding, masculine, there was nothing left to the imagination or left to doubt. Paul stole into Tracey’s mouth, searching and exploring, tasting and memorizing. Pulling him even closer, there was no doubt that Tracey wanted this as much as Paul did.

  The doors opened at the top of the funicular run, startling both of them. They jumped away from each other, like two teenagers caught in a bedroom.

  Paul laughed, and Tracey followed, slumping against the wall he’d been backed against.

  “Okay, so we both wanted that.” Paul finally managed words.

  “Shit yes.” Tracey smiled and grabbed his hand to pull him out of the car just as the doors shut. They walked down the street a bit and leaned against the railing. “So you’re not seeing anyone?”

  “Not right now, no.”

  Paul watched all sorts of emotions dance across Tracey’s face before he finally spoke. “Maybe this is super forward of me, and probably completely insane, but…I want to be your exclusive.” Tracey tilted his head and considered Paul. “It’s insane. You can say no.”

  “Why the hell would I?” Paul studied him. Male. All male. Handsome. Angular. Well-built.

  “You’ve known me for”—he looked at his watch— “just about sixteen hours.”

  “I’ve done stupider things.” Paul watched as the first ray of sun burst over the horizon. “Inevitable.”

  “What?”

  “It feels like sunrise. Inevitable. I’m back in the ‘Burgh. I was in the right place, the right time, with the right people. It seems like meeting you was inevitable.”

  “I half think I’m falling in love.” Tracy smirked.

  Paul stepped into him. “I have never felt this comfortable with someone this quickly. And I don’t want this to end.”

  “I don’t either.”

  He pressed his lips to Tracey’s, teasing and tasting the man again. “Then come back to my place. Stay the weekend. We’ll deal with reality on Monday.

  There was no mistaking the answer; the hard cock behind his pants pressed against his own hard-on.

  “This won’t stay out of the bedroom.” Tracy seemed almost to cling to him.

  “I don’t intend it to.”

  “Fuck.” His hips ground into Paul, the desire crushing both of them. “Take me home.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Tracey didn’t have time to really appreciate Paul’s place. He was too horny, too desperate—too fucking hard—to care. He noticed the neighborhood was nice, and the lawn was well-cared for.

  Shit he really didn’t give a crap about.

  Really. The Lawn.

  Paul pushed the door open, and as he walked past, had his suit jacket yanked back and off his shoulder and down his arms. Paul followed him in and hurled the jacket onto the nearest couch or chair or whatever. Paul’s followed a moment later, and they stood staring at one another.

  Paul marched up to him. Tracey was usually the aggressor—the alpha—in his relationships, but there was something about Paul that made him want to trust him, to let him take care of him. And Paul didn’t disappoint, putting one hand on either side of his face and kissing the hell out of him.

  Their tongues danced together, and they pulled each other tighter. He reached up and wound his fingers into the fine, soft, hair Paul sported at the back of his head. It was the single best feeling he’d experienced in years.

  Until Paul’s hand found his tremendously hard dick. He let out a long, trembling breath as his hand stroked up and down, up and down. “Shit, Paul, stop. Stop or I’m going to come.”

  Paul backed off, but only just. “Mm. That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  Fleet fingers had his pants unfastened and down, and Paul was suddenly on his knees. He looked up at Tracey, hands on his stiff cock again. This time, there was no barrier between them. “You like this better?

  Tracey was at his mercy, even though it was Paul on his knees. He breathed hard, tempted—for just a moment—to say no. Only because he knew he didn’t have a good turn around, especially after a long hard round of sex. But Paul…his mouth was there, and he didn’t think he could say no. He didn’
t want to say no.

  “Yes,” Tracey managed, finally. “Yes, fuck. Please.”

  Paul’s lust swollen lips wrapped around the head of his dick. It felt amazing as he swirled his tongue around the engorged member, and sucked lightly. He opened his mouth a bit more and slid his dick deep into his mouth.

  Then the real pleasure began—the incredible specimen of a male on his knees in front of him, with his cock in his mouth did this…thing with his tongue and teeth. The light scrape of teeth against the shaft and welcoming tongue raced him to the brink of climax. His legs trembled, and they threatened to give out, but Paul’s hands grabbed his ass to help him stand.

  It was bliss. The sensations spreading from his dick into his pelvis through his body ignited him. There was something so very different about Paul. More consuming, more honest, more real—more male. So male. Other guys he had been with, he’d hesitated to get to this point—the removal of clothes, the sucking of cocks, the promise of sex. But Paul made him want to beg and made everything happen faster, sooner.

  A finger brushed against his dark entrance and pulled him out of his daze, the mindless bliss. “Coming,” he breathed.

  Paul’s hand released his taut ass and wrapped it around his shaft. He kept pumping but pulled his mouth away for a moment. “Give it to me, Tracey. I want you to come in my mouth.”

  “Yessss…” The word was hissed, the feeling of release rolling through him.”

  Once more, Paul’s mouth was on him. He did the thing again with his tongue and teeth, and Tracey thought that he was going to use that to make him come. But Paul had different ideas. With a swallow, Tracey’s entire dick was down his throat, and a finger slipped into his ass.

  No hope. Tracey surrendered with a yell of release and a gasp that included his lover’s name. The hot jets of cum shot from his dick into Paul’s waiting, willing mouth.

  And fucking shit, what that did to him. A waiting, willing, wanting mouth, taking all of his cum. The second, unexpected climax took his knees out from under him and dropped him to the floor.

  A moment passed, and Paul appeared above him. “Goddamn, that was hot.” He brought his mouth to Tracey’s—and if he hadn’t been in the throes of an amazing orgasm, he would have come a third time from the taste of himself on Paul’s lips.