Crashing Waves

by C J Baty

  He’d never had one of those orgasms you read about in romance novels, when everything turns white and you lose yourself completely. Not until now.

  It wasn’t just the hot release of sperm gushing from his body, it was the emotion he’d bottled up inside for as long as he could remember. He didn’t usually shout or scream during sex, but when he came back to himself his throat felt scratchy and dry and his face felt damp. Had he been crying?

  “Shush, baby. Shush.” Marcus said over and over again.

  “What happened?” Justin could hear the raggedness in his voice.

  “I think it was something more than just a release.” Marcus smiled and squeezed Justin tight. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Justin answered. “It was . . . something else but so good. Damned good. Never been so good. Thank you.”

  “Why don’t we get some sleep,” Marcus suggested, and Justin had to admit he was suddenly totally exhausted.

  ––––––––

  JUSTIN WOKE to the sweet feel of Marcus pressed close to him. Across the room, through the window, the sky was beginning to lighten in the distance.

  He could tell daylight was still an hour or so away. As he watched the sleeping man in his arms, all those lonely years seemed to vanish. He wasn’t immature enough to think that one night in his bed had really changed anything, but it was a start. A really good start. He smiled to himself.

  Marcus moaned softly, shifted his position and suddenly a very hard cock was pushing against Justin’s hip. He also felt the vibration of a soft chuckle run through his lover.

  “Ready for round two?” Marcus kissed across Justin’s chest and latched onto the nearest nipple. Electricity jolted through Justin’s entire body and settled in his own growing member. The only thought that managed to make sense to him was Oh God, I could get used this.

  Any other thoughts that tried to crowd his mind vanished when Marcus slid fingers across his chest to flick his other nipple. He rubbed and tweaked it into a tight nub. Justin loved it. His nipples had always been sensitive, and Marcus seemed to hone in on that fact. He used the knowledge to his advantage and Justin’s pleasure.

  “Don’t stop. Oh God, don’t stop,” Justin’s words were breathy and desperate even to his own ears.

  “Really need to fuck you, Justin.” Marcus warmed the wet nub he’d been sucking seconds before with his words.

  “Need it so bad.” Marcus rocked his cock against Justin harder. The scent of sex filled the air, and Justin could feel the leakage from Marcus on his hip.

  “Yes, fuck, yes,” Justin whispered back as he kissed the silky curls on Marcus’s head.

  “We’re going to need supplies.” Marcus moved to sink between Justin’s thighs.

  Their cocks rubbed against each other causing Justin to shudder. The anticipation of what they were about to do turned him on unbelievably. He wanted it just as much as Marcus. That connection with another human. The closeness that only the act of sex could bring to two people. He wanted to speak the words, to tell Marcus what they needed was in the top drawer of the nightstand. All he managed to do was point in the right direction.

  Marcus must have gotten the message because Justin heard the drawer open then close. He felt the bottle of lube as it was dropped by his hip.

  Marcus never stopped rutting against him.

  It was as if Justin had forgotten how to speak. Neither seemed to notice their lack of verbal communication; they both knew what they wanted. Their cocks pressed together between their heated and sweating bodies created

  the most delicious friction. All Justin could do was feel. The sound of foil being torn filled the silent room.

  This time when their lips met it was desperate and hungry. Marcus didn’t stop kissing him as he opened Justin’s legs wider, raising them so his feet were flat on the bed. Justin heard the lube bottle open and snap shut. He jumped at how loud it sounded.

  “Going to make this so good for you, Justin,” Marcus promised.

  Slick fingers explored him until they found their point of desire. Gently they pushed in past that first tight ring of muscle. Justin breathed out and relaxed his body. Slowly they entered his passage, then withdrew. Each time moving a little faster, a little deeper. The moment they grazed across the soft bump of tissue, Justin felt it, those sparks that made his entire body feel like it was on fire. He closed his eyes and pushed back hard on the fingers. Wanting more. Needing more.

  Justin knew Marcus was going slow because he didn’t want to cause him any undue pain and that was nice. Truth was that Justin was ready, so fucking ready. A little pain was not going to kill him, and they’d waited too long for this. He’d waited too long for this moment.

  “I’m good. I’m ready now, Marcus.” Justin touched Marcus’s cheek, drawing the other man’s attention to his eyes.

  Marcus’s fingers slipped from his body as he leaned forward to kiss Justin once more. Then he entered Justin, his cock pushing slow and easy. It was so slow and intense that Justin wanted to scream. Marcus was driving him crazy.

  “Justin,” Marcus whispered. Justin could feel Marcus’s body strung tight as a bow.

  Justin grasped Marcus’s biceps and smiled up at him. He felt Marcus’s body suddenly release its tension then he smiled back at Justin. He pushed forward into Justin with a hard thrust and everything else was forgotten.

  Their bodies moved as one. Like they’d done this a million times before. It was heat and flashing lights. It was tender and bruising. It was fucking amazing. His body would be sore later, but he just didn’t give a damn.

  Feeling Marcus move in him the way he was, made it worth any slight discomfort he might feel.

  The solid weight of Marcus resting on him after the passion had subsided was remarkable. It felt right in so many ways. Eventually, their breathing slowed and the stickiness of their sweat cooled bodies needed to be addressed. Marcus rolled to his side off Justin. Removing the used condom, he tied it off and dropped it in his clothes lying on the floor beside the bed.

  “Think I can make it across the hall without flashing Michaels or Winnie?”

  Marcus asked as he lifted himself onto one elbow to look down into Justin’s eyes. He winked and then left a soft kiss on Justin’s cheek.

  Justin laughed. Really laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt free enough to let a bubble of joy burst from him. Then a picture of him and Marcus playing in the surf on the beach last summer, flashed across his mind. He’d laughed then too.

  “No, you should be good. They’ll be down in the kitchen by now but they’ll be busy preparing breakfast.” Justin watched Marcus rise from the bed and gather his clothes off the floor. The man had a fine ass.

  “I’m just going to go across the hall and take a shower and put on some fresh clothes,” Marcus said as he reached the bedroom door.

  “Sounds like a plan. I’ll be down in a bit after I freshen up as well.” Justin threw the covers back and sat on the side of the bed as Marcus opened the door.

  Peering out into the hall, Marcus must have assumed the coast was clear because he gave Justin a huge smile then darted out into the hall closing the door behind him. A second later Justin heard a shout.

  “Oh dear God! Marcus! How many times do I have to tell you to cover your junk? You have scarred me for life man!” Peter was shouting as his footsteps echoed on the staircase. Justin was nearly rolling on the floor with laughter when Peter knocked at his door.

  10

  ––––––––

  MOSES THREW THE missing person report in the trash can after Joe Thompson closed the door on his way out of the office. He’d come to Moses because his son Alexander had been missing for three days and he was frantic with worry. The man was a fool.

  Moses knew exactly where Alexander Thompson was, and the kid was going to stay there until he didn’t need him anymore. It had come in very handy when Moses had caught the Thompson kid stealing cigarettes at Murphy’s gas sta
tion a month ago. He’d needed someone to help him get into that damned house. He still hadn’t found exactly what he was looking for, but it felt like he was on the right track.

  Pulling open the bottom left drawer of his desk, the red leather journal was still there where he’d left it yesterday. Staring up at him. Taunting him. It had revealed one secret that he could use, but not the one he wanted. He kicked the drawer shut then stood from his chair and began to pace the small distance in front of his desk.

  He’d been sure he’d find the one he needed in all those journals in the box from the basement of the hotel. But, it wasn’t there. It wasn’t in the ones he’d found at the house either. The kid had gotten himself caught by that faggot detective so no more journals were found at the house. But there had to be more . . . somewhere. Caroline had been sure that there was all kinds

  of information in those journals of Bradley Warfield’s—information that could be very useful to him.

  It was true. Bradley Warfield had been blackmailing half the county, if the journals were to be believed. Some of the things Moses discovered wouldn’t matter to anyone alive now, but some of them could possibly net him a nice little nest egg. The two he had taken from the house had already netted him a profit, so he was sure there was more where that came from.

  Caroline. Her face danced across his vision. She had been so beautiful back when they were young. He’d wanted her from the first time he’d laid eyes on her. But she hadn’t had eyes for anyone but Justin Warfield. The man who had everything. The wealth, the looks, a father, and everything else Moses didn’t have.

  She’d been his while Justin was off at college, but it didn’t mean anything.

  Caroline Brooks gave her heart to no one. No one but Justin. Moses had been the one to pay the price. The bitch just couldn’t stick to the plan, and he’d had to kill her. She just had to take things one step further than they needed before Moses was ready. Could she have lied to him about the information in the journals? He wouldn’t put it past her, but no, he didn’t think she would have lied about that. They had been in bed, and he’d just finished fucking her. She’d been in a good mood and wanted to share shit.

  His mind wandered back to the conversation they’d had.

  “ You know Justin’s father kept journals.”

  “Journals? You mean like a fucking diary?”

  “Journals. He wrote everything in them. Everything he knew about other people. Anything that could be useful.”

  “So?”

  “Maybe he knew who your daddy was.”

  “What the fuck, woman?”

  “He slept with your mother. He was one of your mother’s johns. Like so many other wealthy white men in Beaufort.” She laughed.

  Moses had slapped her hard and stood from the bed abruptly.

  “How could you possibly know that, you bitch?”

  Caroline rubbed her cheek but never let a tear drop. She hardened her face and stared back at him.

  “Don’t ever hit me again!”

  Moses wasn’t afraid of her. Not for one minute, even if she was bat shit crazy.

  “How do you know about him and my mother? Tell me now!”

  “Because I read it in one those damned journals of his. I found a box of them in the attic when I was looking for . . . something. They were kids, still in high school. But it’s true. He loved her, if the man was even capable of love.”

  “Can you get it for me?”

  Moses wanted to read it for himself. Maybe there was something useful in the old man’s words.

  “Sure, no problem. Now, tell me, who else was on that list of Justin’s lovers?”

  Caroline’s face drew up as if she were in pain, and her eyes darkened. She had a maniacal look about her. The one that Moses knew he could use. He liked that face.

  She’d never brought him the journal. It was possible that if Bradley Warfield had kept information on the good people of Beaufort as Caroline had suggested, then the journals might have exactly what Moses had been looking for. He had convinced himself that one of those journals would reveal the name he had hunted for his entire life. The problem now was where else could he look? It felt like he was missing the mark, some tiny detail that could lead him to what he needed. A single name crossed his mind. Celia Lee.

  ––––––––

  MARTA’S PLACE had been closed for years. He’d shut it down himself. It was one of the first things he’d done when he was elected sheriff. He couldn’t have a place like that open in his jurisdiction. That one action had pretty much sealed his place with the good people of Beaufort. His grandmother died shortly after, and all the women from Marta’s left town.

  All except for his mother. She stayed in the house because she had nowhere else to go. The house itself was barely standing. Years of neglect and pranksters stealing bits and pieces of the old dilapidated building hadn’t left much to look at. With no electricity and no running water, the house should have been condemned a long time ago, but his mother wouldn’t leave.

  Celia Lee was a broken woman; Moses knew that. He despised her in spite of the reasons that had made her the shell of the human she was today. Her mind was nearly gone, and talking to her always left him angry and disgusted with himself for even coming around. The fact that she was his mother meant he should take care of her even though he detested her. He’d promised his stepfather that he would before he died. So he’d made sure she had food and shelter. He’d found a supplier who would give him pills to keep her unresponsive most of the time. That way she didn’t try to leave the house and maybe talk to someone who might connect them. He couldn’t have that happening.

  When his police cruiser came to a halt at the end of what used to be the gravel driveway, Alexander came out of the house to meet him.

  “Chief Lee,” Alexander said quietly.

  “Hello, boy.” Moses didn’t want the kid to get any idea that he liked him, so he kept the distance between them.

  “Your pa was in the station today. Wanted me to put a missing persons report out on you,” Moses said stepping from the car. “We both know why I’m not going to do that, now, don’t we?”

  “Yes, sir,” the boy answered nervously.

  “That’s right. You stay here and do like I tell you, and you might get to go home.” Moses stared at the boy until he nearly bent under his glare. “You’ll go when I’m done with you, or you can go straight to jail. Your choice, boy.”

  Alexander dropped his eyes to the ground and nodded his head that he understood. Moses walked straight past him without another word. Inside, the building looked as bad as the outside did. He found his mother sitting in the kitchen by the stove, singing some song to herself. She didn’t look up when he walked into the room. There had been more than one occasion in the past when she had no idea who he was. He suspected today was probably going to be one of those days. Her hair was a dirty shade of gray and probably hadn’t been washed in months. She was wearing the same dingy violet dress he had seen her in every time he’d been here. The bones on her face were more predominate than they had been the last time he was here. He guessed she’d stopped eating . . . again.

  “Celia, can you hear me?” Moses hadn’t called her mama in thirty years; he wasn’t about to do it now. He waited to see if she’d acknowledge his presence.

  “Hello, Moses.” She never looked at him but kept staring straight ahead and continued her song.

  “I need to ask you some questions about Bradley Warfield.”

  She stopped singing, and her eyes started to water. Tears began to roll down her cheek, and her dried lips quivered.

  “Is he coming for me today? He promised me we could go for a ride in his new car.” She ran her gnarled fingers through her hair and patted down her dirty dress. “Do I look all right? He likes it when I get prettied up for him.”

  Moses knew she was lost somewhere in the past, but today that might help him. If he could just trigger some memory that would lead him to where more jour
nals had been stored.

  “I think he’s going to love the way you look today,” Moses lied and steered the conversation.

  “He writes in journals about the things you two do, doesn’t he?” he asked hopefully.

  “Yes. He writes about lots of things. He’s such a good writer.” Celia smiled to herself.

  “Do you know where he keeps the books he writes in?”

  “Why, yes. He writes when we go on picnics and then keeps it in the new car so he can write in it again.” She looked at Moses and her face fell.

  “Who are you?” She looked confused and afraid. “I don’t know you, do I?”

  “Sure you do, I’m Moses.” He hoped he could get her back on track.

  She laughed. “Moses? Oh you can’t be Moses. He’s just a baby. I have to keep him hid. We can’t let anyone know about him.” She shushed Moses as she whispered her next words. “His daddy is an important man. Got to keep it quiet. There would be big trouble if anyone found out.”

  It was the first time Moses had ever heard her even mention his father. But who was the man?

  “Why? Why would there be big trouble, Celia? Who is Moses’s father?” He grabbed his mother by her shoulders, feeling the skin stretched tight over her bones, and shook her. She screamed and tried to pull away from him.

  Alexander came running into the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks at the open door. Moses turned to him.

  “Get the fuck out of here now, boy!”

  Alexander hesitated but then turned and left.

  “Stop! Stop! It hurts! Please stop!” Celia was screaming and crying, trying to break free from Moses grip on her.

  Withdrawing his hands from the frantic woman, Moses took several steps back from her. She dropped to the floor and was sobbing uncontrollably.

  Whatever he had hoped to gain by coming here, it wasn’t going to happen.

  She was no good to anyone any more. He needed to see about having her put away. Preferably a place as far away from Beaufort and him as possible.

  He turned to leave, and just as he reached the door, Celia sat up and spoke with more lucidity than she’d had the entire time he’d been there.