That Sweet Burn

by Temple Madison

  Just then Sherlock stood up, rushed around to push some papers off a chair and said, “Just sit, and tell me why you’re here.”

  “Uh, well,” Rolly began as he sat gingerly down in the chair, afraid he might catch a disease if he touched something.

  “So what can I do for you?”

  He dug several photographs out of his pocket and pushed them across the desk at him. “I would like to have these people followed.”

  Sherlock leaned forward to get the photos, looked at them, and then up at the guy who was looking closely at him. “Okay, so what’s the story here?”

  “Dimitri Silvetti is the blond one, and the other is…his name is Franco Moretti. Dark, handsome, Latin.”

  “Who are these men, and why do you want them followed?” Sherlock asked as he continued looking at the pictures.

  Rolly was silent for a moment, and then said, “If you don’t mind I’d rather not go into detail. I just want them followed, and then a report on their activities. You know, where they go, what they do…the usual stuff. The pictures there will help you identify them.”

  *

  Sherlock looked closely at the pictures, trying to memorize their faces. When he felt as if he had their images carved into his memory, his steady gaze moved slowly toward his client and focused on his nice clothes and fairly expensive watch. He could tell he was a man with a few bucks, and didn’t want to scare him away, so he proceeded very carefully. “Before we get started you need to know that I get two hundred dollars a day, plus expenses.”

  “My God, why so much?”

  “Many reasons. First, I’m a retired law enforcement officer,” he began, trying to look serious as he kept on with his sales pitch that would be familiar to anyone who watched Mannix, or 21 Jump Street. “To do this job I have to be licensed, and certified from state to state. I’ve had extensive training in weaponry, hand-to-hand combat, and I carry a weapon. My life is in danger constantly, and I don’t work from eight to five, I work from hour to hour. I have to be familiar with state and local laws, making me almost as knowledgeable about the law as any lawyer whether they are criminal, civil, or corporate. I have to know the ins and outs of a computer to do extensive searches for documents, and I know the people in the legal offices as well as I do my next door neighbor. And last, but not least, I carry a top of the line camera, mini-cam, and I have an extensive line of surveillance equipment, and can operate all of them better than the highest paid Hollywood director.”

  He paused, wondering if the man believed him. “Mr. Stern, I take a lot of chances in my line of work. I never know when I go out in the morning if I’m going to come back that night.”

  “Are you married? Have a family?” Rolly asked. “You seem very young to have retired from the police department.”

  “No,” he said, purposely ignoring his comment about his age. “I don’t have anything in my life that might take my attention from what I’m doing for you. Once I commit myself, I’m yours all the way, and in case you haven’t guessed by now, the money you give me pays not only for my time, but for my experience, and my training.”

  “I only want to know one thing.”

  “Sure. What’s that?”

  “How soon can you start?”

  Although Sherlock was a little surprised at his question, he quickly got himself under control, and said, “I’m on the clock the minute you say so.”

  Rolly was silent for a moment, and hesitated at first, but then he said, “All right, you’re hired.”

  * * * *

  Rolly had been rejected before, and sure it had hurt, but for some reason now it seemed different. These two bastards had hooked up behind his back, and the pain he felt was sharp, toxic. So much so that it took on a whole different personality—another dimension. He’d misread guys before, and it was no big deal, but when someone close to him—like Franco—lied to him, the pain became somehow sharper, edgier. How many times had he heard stories just like this from other men in the bar he tended, and he always gave them good advice, but never in that advice did he tell them to hire a private investigator. Funny what desperation did.

  Even now he could hear them calling out to him.

  Help! Help! Help!

  These pleas that invaded his sleep, all carried the same sense of despair he felt, but they had someone to share their misery with. There was nowhere for him to go. There was no bartender in some lonely, faraway place that could solve all his problems. He couldn’t even go to Franco who had been his rock in many situations. All right, maybe the rug had been pulled out from under him, but he would be damned before he would give up. Because he demanded satisfaction, he wasn’t free to act like some mealy-mouthed little scaredy-cat who would sit around and let it happen. He had to get up and do something, and what he intended to do would not only be for him, but for all of them.

  Before all this was over, he would make someone—pay!

  * * * *

  The next day…

  Franco was in the kitchen making himself a sandwich when Rolly walked into the house without knocking. The expression on Franco’s face clearly indicated that he was bothered by the fact that Rolly came in without knocking, but he stayed silent. Instead he simply looked at him, waited for him to say something, but when he didn’t he finally said, “Can I make you a sandwich? Ham is all I have.”

  “Did your wife know you were gay?”

  Franco closed his eyes while anger and shock sizzled through his body. He knew. Spending a moment trying to compose himself, he finally said, “Rolly, that is none of your business.”

  “It’s amazing, you know? I mean, I’ve noticed the way you move. No one would ever know you liked men. You hide it well. I mean with some men…and I say some, they give it away in several small ways. The effeminate manner, the limp wrist, even the way they talk, or the sound of their voice, but you, you hide it well.”

  “I’m not hiding anything, Rolly.”

  “I guess that’s why it was so easy to fool your wife—and a lot of other people.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “I just happened to pick up the phone at the wrong time and heard you and Dimitri having phone sex.”

  “That never happened, and you know it.”

  “All right, so it didn’t happen that way, but I did hear you and Dimitri talking on the phone, and it was enough to make me sick.”

  Franco frowned slightly. “You picked up the phone? You mean you…Rolly, that’s deplorable. You came in…no, sneaked in without me knowing you were here, and…my God, how could you be so deceitful? You don’t listen in on other people’s private conversations. Would you want me intruding on your privacy and listening in on your conversations? And now, today, you just walk in without knocking. You know, this is still a private residence. You don’t just walk in on people. If I have to, I’ll change the lock on that door.”

  “A lock on that door would prove only one thing. That there is something going on here that you don’t want me to see.”

  “Rolly, don’t make me ask you to move. As long as you’re living under my roof…and that garage apartment is still under my roof, you’ll abide by my rules.”

  “I should have known you’d fall back on that one. That one must be…what…number five in the Book of Speeches that landlords use to threaten their tenants?”

  “So you admit it. You’re only a tenant. I thought you were a friend…a trusted friend…”

  “Trusted?” Rolly yelled. “Trusted?” Rolly repeated as a truck load of anger settled in.

  “Look, Rolly,” Franco began. “I know what you’re going through, but this isn’t something that Dimitri or I intended to happen. It just did. Can’t you accept that?”

  “I blame you,” he said, pointing at him.

  “Me? I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

  “My God, Franco, you’re the older one, the older man, the one with most of the experience. I think you forced yourself
on Dimitri. You saw how nervous he was at first. He was probably afraid to say no.”

  “Ridiculous!”

  Another thing, why didn’t you ever tell me you were gay?”

  “Why the hell should I? When did it ever come up? You were a tenant, not a close friend. There was no reason to tell you anything. If you hadn’t told me at the bar that you were gay I wouldn’t have known it until I saw you bringing men up to your apartment. A lot of men.”

  “I’ll get you back for this, Franco,” he said, his voice a soft threat.

  “Get me back?” he repeated. “Do you know how you sound? Like someone who’s out for blood! You sound like some creep who thinks he’s been wronged, and my dead body is the only way to make it right. Rolly, for God’s sake get a hold of yourself. You’re a young man with a good mind, a man who’s making his own way in the world. Do you seriously think I did this to you deliberately? Nobody asked for this to happen, it just did.”

  “You were married, for God’s sake. What the hell are you? AC and DC? When was the last time you got laid…I mean with a woman, not last night with Dimitri.”

  He looked at him with suspicion. “How do you know about last night?”

  “I know a hell of a lot more than you think I do.”

  “Is it necessary to curse…and to lose control of yourself?”

  Rolly chuckled. “The landlord-tenant situation doesn’t include cursing? I can fuckin’ curse anytime I want.”

  “You sound like a teenager whose brain isn’t fully functional yet.”

  “Hear me, Franco, and hear me good,” he said with his hands on his hips, and his legs parted in a threatening stance. “I’ll make you pay, both you and Dimitri.”

  “How, for God’s sake? By yelling at me, and reminding me of what a creep I am because I stole your boyfriend?”

  A slow, evil smile spread across Rolly’s face, and his eyes shot fire. “I wouldn’t make any long-range plans if I were you.” With that he turned to leave the kitchen.

  Franco watched him go, and just when he came to the arch in the doorway, he asked, “Do you hate me that much, Rolly?”

  Rolly stopped at once, and without turning, he said, “I was in love with him, Franco.”

  “My God, after one date?”

  “Who can predict when love happens? Be warned. Hell hath no fury like a gay man who has his boyfriend stolen by another gay man.” He turned to face him. “That, my dear Franco, happens to be rule number one in the book for tenants who have bastards for landlords!”

  “Man?” Franco spat out. “If you’re a man, then act like one! Not some sniveling little kid who’s had his lollipop taken away from him!”

  “You heard me,” Rolly said before he whirled around and stomped through the doorway.

  * * * *

  As Franco watched him leave, he couldn’t believe the turn this situation had taken. He didn’t even know that Rolly was capable of sneaking around and listening in on his phone calls. It made him feel vulnerable, as if his life was an open book. He needed privacy, solitude to think about what to do next. He knew that eventually they would need to make different living arrangements, but he hesitated to ask him to leave because he knew he didn’t have a place to go. The next best thing was for Franco himself to leave, to distance himself from Rolly since every time he saw him old hurts would re-surface. He searched his mind for an answer, and thought of Dimitri. He reached in his pocket for his cell phone, and quickly punched in his number. He caught him busy at work. “I won’t keep you,” he said. “I just need for you to meet me at the Marriott downtown. I’ll be in the lobby.”

  “What’s happened?” Dimitri asked. “Is Rolly okay?”

  “He’s fine, but I’m a mess. Come hungry. I’ll buy your lunch this time.”

  When Franco disconnected, he stood thinking about the situation, and remembered Rolly’s cryptic message to him.

  I wouldn’t make any long range plans if I were you.

  Sure, maybe it did sound like a threat, but Rolly wouldn’t do that. My God, he was so young, too young to be so cynical, and mistrusting. He knew then that Rolly’s feelings for Dimitri went deeper than either one of them suspected, so who could blame him if he was—as he said—out for blood.

  * * * *

  Dimitri’s nerves were jumping as he sat listening to Sims make his presentation. His mind wondered, he glanced down at his watch imagining he could hear it tick, indicative of his fragmented nerves. That was crazy since it was one of those mechanical marvels that didn’t make a sound. His gaze floated toward the window. He could see the sign on the roof of the Marriott from there. It was just down on the next block, easy to get to. He could walk, run, or even take a Taxi, which was foolish, but maybe he would just this once since he’d be in such a hurry.

  When lunch was finally called, he jumped up and ran out. Two hours. That’s all he had, and he couldn’t waste a minute. He was just about to jump into a taxi when he noticed the bumper-to-bumper traffic, and decided he could go faster by foot, and began running.

  He didn’t stop until he burst into the Marriott’s lobby.

  He looked around, his gaze raking over each person in the lobby until he saw Franco pacing and wringing his hands. He tried to keep from looking worried as he walked up to him and began talking.

  “Hi, Franco. What’s going on?”

  “Thank God, you’re here. Let’s go up to the room.”

  “You have a room?”

  “We need a place to talk privately.”

  “But I only have a couple of hours.”

  “Yeah, I know, but the room is mine until tomorrow.”

  “Why the hell would you do that?”

  “I—I just feel like I need some time away from Rolly.”

  “Oh, my God, Franco.”

  “This has hit him hard, Dimitri. He sounds almost…I don’t know…kind of crazy, you know? Anyway, that’s why I got the room. I need to give him some space at least until he gets used to the idea of you and I being together.”

  “Can’t we be together at my place?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why?”

  “Come on. I’ll explain later,” he said, pushing Dimitri toward the elevator while he looked around as if he were looking for someone.

  “Who’re you looking for?”

  “Are you hungry? I’ll order room service for us. What do you want?”

  “I don’t know, uh…”

  Just then Dimitri saw someone looking at them.

  Someone with a camera in his hand.

  Chapter 7

  AS soon as the door to their room closed, their bodies crushed together in a hungry embrace. Franco could feel Dimitri’s racing heart, and even smell his hot cream as it bubbled inside him, waiting to spew out. He knew it wouldn’t take much to make Dimitri come. A few kisses, a hot lick, or maybe the tantalizing whisper of a dirty word, or two—at least that’s what he thought.

  He became totally shocked when Dimitri took control.

  With quick movements, he pushed Franco back on the bed, began undressing him, and then opened his legs, and shoved Franco’s knees up around his chest. Now with his cock hanging loose, hard and ready, he pressed it against Franco’s hole and looked down at him as if he had a surprise ready for him.

  And he did.

  “I like it rough,” Dimitri whispered. “How about you?”

  Franco’s eyes widened, and he laughed a happy laugh. “That’s just what any hot-blooded Latin wants to hear, baby.”

  “Then get ready to feel that sweet, hot burn that I feel every time you fuck me.”

  The moment Dimitri drove into Franco, he held nothing back. Franco’s hole was tight, and he knew he should wait until he adjusted to his size, but that sweet heat came with a hard thrust, and a sinful promise of more to come.

  Dimitri smiled when Franco groaned.

  “More!” he begged.

  Hearing that
, Dimitri wasn’t about to hold anything back, so he slid out nearly all the way, making Franco whimper with want. When he had him practically begging to be fucked, he finally thrust back in with everything he had.

  “Yes! Oh, God, yes!” Franco, groaned.

  Dimitri rode him hard and fast with Franco meeting him with every plunge. Dimitri fucked Franco with as much brutal strength as he dared, but he kept crying for more.

  It sent Dimitri right into heaven.

  He could feel Franco’s balls bouncing up and down in rhythm with his thrusts, and couldn’t resist reaching out to grip the tantalizing flesh. They were every bit as succulent as they looked. He slid his thumb back and forth over the head of his cock in teasing strokes until he was finally rewarded with a sharp cry. He continued the light, teasing strokes, making Franco arch toward his hand, whimpering. Dimitri slowly began rubbing and tugging so hard Franco’s excited movements nearly tumbled him.

  “Yes, God, yes!” Franco cried just before he felt a flooding sensation going through him.

  Feeling his own orgasm coming close, Dimitri leaned down to Franco’s chest and began a hungry lick and bite on his hard nipple buds while driving himself even deeper inside his tight, wet hole. The wild desire Dimitri was feeling drove him to sink his teeth into his flesh harder than usual. He expected to hear Franco cry out with pain, but instead he cried out with a passionate plea.

  “Harder, oh God, harder. I…”

  Dimitri glanced up at him, and saw his eyes wide with need.

  “I like the pain,” he exclaimed.

  Dimitri nearly choked around the hard flesh in his mouth, wondering if he’d died and gone to heaven. He then bit down hard enough to make him cry out.

  Franco bucked, and writhed against him while Dimitri gave his other nipple an erotic pinch. That’s all it took for Franco and Dimitri to explode, and let go of a couple of harmonizing moans that would have put the angels in heaven to shame.