Except, not yet.
“How about lunch?” he asked while he slipped into his street clothing.
“I could eat,” Quinn said.
Mackie nodded. “Always. There’s a new sushi place around the corner. How about we try that?”
“Sounds perfect. Still my treat.” He wanted to use his new credit card again before going home. It was silly perhaps. And it hardly mattered who paid, given that the family finances were basically one big pile of money.
The other two shrugged and let him lead the way out of the dressing room. The clerk merrily rang up the purchases, not batting an eye over how a teenage boy produced such a high-limit credit card. He also didn’t mind charging for the delivery of the clothing. Demi wanted an unfettered walk to lunch. He practically floated out of the store. In only a few more days, he was going to be in Trey’s arms, naked and in bed. It was hard to believe that it all wasn’t some kind of dream.
The restaurant was quaint and fairly empty when they arrived. As they sat perusing the menu, Demi couldn’t help venting. “It’s too bad this isn’t going to be an eating event. I’d love for Emil to set out the kind of spread you had at your reception, Mackie.”
“Hmm, yeah I hear you on that. The guys want to replicate this whole thing as close as possible to the way it would happen back on…the home world,” he ended in a near whisper.
Demi sighed. “I know.” The server returned and they ordered a massive amount of food. “I don’t know why it has to be so boring.”
“Solemn,” Quinn corrected. “Alex says this is a really big deal. He was telling me about his experience, and he talks like it was life changing.”
“So does Val. He, like, almost choked up describing being led to his queen. You know how unemotional he is most of the time. It was super weird, given how I can’t begin to picture him with a woman.”
“He is bisexual, you know,” Demi pointed out. “They all are.”
Quinn frowned over his cup of tea. “Are you? I mean, I seem to remember your saying you were poly, but you never really said what your orientation is.”
Demi opened his mouth to answer, then closed it with his own frown, as he considered the question. “No,” he finally said. “I thought I was both bi and poly back when sex was purely an abstract idea. When I think about it, now, I can’t imagine being involved with more than one person, plus girls just don’t do it for me. Maybe it was a matter of meeting the right man to pique my sexuality.” He shrugged. “I guess I’m totally gay.”
“You must get that from your father. Lucien,” Quinn clarified.
“I guess.” Was Dad gay? He’d never thought about it. He knew how his parents had met, and at the time, there was no way his human father had had a choice about having sex with men. Up until Papa, Dad had been a victim of sexual assault, not a willing participant. Had he wanted a man in his bed or had he merely acquiesced out of gratitude? The thought made him a little sick. While he’d rarely considered it, he always assumed his parents truly loved each other.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said with a wave of his hand and determined to fully enjoy his outing. “I’m all about the penis, for sure.” At least, one in particular.
Mackie giggled. “I hear you. I feel the same way. Hey,” he added, leaning in closer, “have you figured out how this whole night of deflowering is going to play out?”
“What do you mean?”
Quinn rolled his eyes. “He means who’s going to be sticking what into whom. Honestly, Mackie, as if it’s any of our business.”
Mackie tossed his head. “Like you haven’t thought about it.”
Demi intervened before his friends got into a tiff. “Wait! Why is that even a question? It’s obvious.”
“Is it, sweetie?” Mackie challenged.
“Um, yeah. Trey is the one with the experience, and besides, I’m so not into the idea of topping him.” He gave an exaggerated shudder. “Can you imagine my commanding an alpha male like Trey?”
Quinn and Mackie exchanged looks, but before either of them could answer, the food arrived. Picking up chopsticks, they dove into eating like the starving boys they were. Demi’s appetite was still off the charts, and shopping always gave him an appetite anyway.
Once he’d stuffed enough in to satisfy the worst of his hunger, he picked up the topic again. Chewing had given him time to consider the question and was curious as to why either of his friends thought he’d ever top a man. The mere thought of being impaled by Trey’s dick sent his own cock into painful hardness. It was his daily fantasy to imagine how it was going to feel to be filled with that man’s hard shaft. His hole clenched painfully, and he realized too late he’d be aching for release by the time they got back to the club.
“Seriously, guys, why do you think I might be the one to do the fucking? Oh, do you do that with Alex and Val?” He couldn’t for the life of him picture such virile men being on the bottom. Quinn nearly choked on his sushi and Mackie giggled. “I take that as a no.”
Mackie clasped the tag swinging down from his collar. “Have you forgotten what this means? I’m Val’s slave. Slaves get fucked, sweetie.” His eyelids drooped. “And how!”
Demi grinned at the purely erotic face his friend presented. “So I see.” He looked at Quinn.
The boy shrugged. “I haven’t. I know, though, if I asked, Alex would do that for me. He denies me nothing.” He sighed. “Except he won’t take my answer about going back to school seriously. Damn, he’s like a dog with a bone about that one.”
“Okay, so I ask again, why would you think I’d do that with Trey?”
“It’s the nature of the beast, sweetie. Back you know where, every male sticks his dick into a queen. After that is like whatever… But they all do it that one time. You’re part of that, um…culture, and I just assumed you’d do this thing the traditional way, more or less.”
“Oh.” Demi sat back. “I hadn’t thought of it. My parents have certainly said nothing about it. They could barely look me in the eye when they told me about the ceremony. Papa, in particular, is being uncharacteristically delicate.”
Quinn tapped his chopsticks against his plate. “This is new territory for all of them. They’re trying to stick with a tradition that doesn’t mesh with their lives now. As usual, you’re causing your parents fits, Demi.” He grinned broadly to show he was only kidding.
Demi took it more seriously. “You’re sort of right about that. I am a bit of a bother in this case. They want me to stay a child, as well. I can tell they aren’t quite ready to let go.”
He was, though. He felt more than primed to assume an adult role in life. The fact that he would be going from his parents’ domain to Trey’s didn’t faze him, either. However this all played out from the initial deflowering ceremony to life with Trey, he was prepared to make it work. He wasn’t worried about anything because he trusted Trey to take care of him.
Of course, Demi would have responsibilities, and he would be earnest about them. After the sex would come the hard parts—meeting Trey’s family, planning their lives together. Shit. He knew next to nothing about the man. Were his parents living? Did he have siblings? Would any of them like Demi? He would have to make sure they did. No more playing the brat. Whatever Trey expected of him, he’d do it with a smile and love. Sappy, yes, but still true. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for the man who had stolen his heart without trying, long before he’d saved Demi’s life.
Besides, Demi had faced down Dracul and his hateful men. He could weather meeting and wooing a few humans. And maybe Trey’s family would insist on a church wedding. Ooh, he liked that idea. They were such pretty buildings and there’d be flowers and the trappings that Mackie had had, plus more maybe. Papa would deny him nothing. He almost bounced in excitement just thinking about it.
“You know what?” he said, spearing another piece of sushi. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll let Trey lead the way. Whatever he wants is fine by me.” He popped the bite into his mouth and chewed
with a grin.
* * * *
“You know I can do this alone,” Karl offered.
Trey grunted. “No. Thanks, but no. I’m not so pathetic that I can’t handle seeing my ex for an investigation without having a fit of the vapors. It’s not as if he were the love of my life or anything—or even a great lay.”
That last bit was a lie. Craig Jefferson had been an excellent lay. The sex between them had been off the charts volcanic, which was why it had taken so long for them to realize how incompatible they truly were. Trey had always been into football, while Craig was a hockey man. Craig liked quiet nights at home, whereas Craig was a clubber. And oh yeah, big deal-breaker—Trey had been faithful and Craig had been a cheating piece of shit.
A real potato-potahto kind of kind of problem. Trey had always considered monogamy to mean not having sex with other guys. For Craig, it meant only having sex with randos. “No emotions in it, babe. I love you, so what’s the problem with me getting my dick sucked by a twink in leather shorts?”
“There are other vice squad detectives, you know.” God. Karl was persistent in his own protective way.
“Yeah, but Jefferson is the best, and if anyone knows about a new pimp in town, it will be him. I have a feeling that this is a good lead on the priest’s murder.”
“Me too. I just don’t want to have to keep you from committing the same crime.”
“Ha ha. Don’t worry, I’m going to keep this strictly professional.” Trey hoped he sounded more confident than he felt.
Those proverbial butterflies plagued his stomach as they wound their way through Craig’s shop to his desk. The guy fancied himself a modern-day Wild Bill Hickok in that he liked to keep his back to the wall. He’d snagged a spot in the far corner of the room. Trey spotted the man’s nearly bald head halfway across, and despite his resolve, his heart stuttered.
Damn. Craig hadn’t changed in the two years since they’d last spoken. Okay, yelled. His smooth, clean-shaven face, a few shades darker than Trey’s, still made him look younger than he was. He hadn’t lost any of his raw masculine beauty with his square jaw and sharp cheekbones. At six feet tall and sleekly muscled, he could have been a model. Trey’s dick stirred with reflexive memory, making Trey mad at his own lack of discipline. By the time, he reached his destination, his eyes had gone flinty and his lips were tightly closed.
Craig looked up from some file he was staring at. His face registered annoyance, then morphed into a smug smile a second later. “Trey.”
“Jefferson,” he replied in a stony tone.
The vice cop sat back in his chair. “Oh, is it last names now? Okay then, what’s up, Duncan? Anderson?” he added with a nod toward Karl.
Part of Trey was irked that his former boyfriend could switch to professional mode so quickly and seemingly effortlessly. Wasn’t the guy’s stomach churning the way his was? What difference did it make anyway? He should be happy that all Craig was interested in was whatever business Trey was bringing to his doorstep. Trey was being ridiculous.
Sucking up his emotions, he got to the point. “We’re investigating the murder of a priest.”
Craig tossed his head back and huffed out a breath. “Father Ted.”
“That’s the one.”
Craig grimaced. “I heard first thing this morning. It sucks. I met him a few times, and he was a good guy.” He lowered his gaze to Trey. “You know at first I had my suspicions. All those young boys in particular that he ministered to? Seemed fishy to me. I guess I’m jaded that way.”
Asshole that he was in his personal life, Craig was a damn fine cop and genuinely worked tirelessly to bring justice to sex crime victims in particular. “We had the same ugly thoughts, but the boy I know that found the body assures us the priest was on the level.”
“That was my ultimate conclusion. Which kid?”
“Damien Winter.”
Craig nodded. “I know him. He’s one of the few success stories out there, isn’t he? Found steady work as a cook or something.”
“That’s right.” Before Trey could decide whether he wanted to admit more details, Karl chimed in.
“At Club Lux.”
“Oh yeah?” Craig’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve heard of it, a hotspot for the rich and kinky. Seems like it’s been a magnet for all kinds of weird shit too, huh?”
Trey looked down at his feet and cleared his throat. “I don’t know about that. We, ah, got to know the family that runs it because of that serial killer last year. Anyway,” he added before Craig could ask any follow-up questions, “the club’s chef had been donating food to Father Ted’s soup kitchen for street kids. Damien and a couple of other boys from the club were making a delivery when they found the body.”
“And they called you.” Craig’s dark brown eyes had always been expressive. His thoughts practically popped out.
Damn, no one could ever accuse the man of not knowing how to add two plus two. Trey kept his gaze steady as he said, “That’s right. They know and trust us.”
Craig rocked back. “Uh, huh. So how can I help you?”
Karl stepped into the conversation again, which was all to the good. “We learned that there is a new pimp throwing his weight around. A doctor we also know said that he had a rape and abuse victim brought into the ED by Father Ted. We were hoping you could shed some light on the guy. Maybe he figured the priest was interfering with his stable.”
Now Craig’s expression took on a hard edge. Trey knew that look. His ex was pissed. “I know who you’re referring to. I call him the Dark Knight.”
“Why, is he a brother?” Trey asked.
“No, actually, I hear he’s a white dude. Like, super white. The guys I pull in are scared shitless of him—the boys and the other pimps. No one seems to know exactly who he is, or they’re too afraid to say, but he blew into town a couple of months ago and is making his mark quickly and with extreme prejudice.”
“Why the cutesy moniker, then?” Karl asked, although as he did, Trey’s gut started tightening again.
Craig shrugged. “It just seemed to fit. According to my sources, this guy is huge and is really into black leather.” He winked at Trey. “Sounds like my kind of guy.”
Trey ignored the baiting because now his nerves were heading into full-on red alert territory. “And he comes out at night.” It was a statement, not a question, because fuck…
Craig didn’t appear fazed by the question. “Well, yeah, but that’s true for most of these scumballs. The boys do their best trade after dark. From what I hear, though, this guy holds court underground somewhere. A basement, I assume, but no one’s talking with any kind of useful detail. He has his lieutenants pound the pavement and keep the boys in line. He never goes to anyone. They’re always brought to him.”
“Christ, Jesus,” Karl muttered.
Craig sat forward. “Look, I’d give you more info if I had it. From what I can tell, this guy wouldn’t blink at killing a priest. I’m surprised the streets aren’t more littered from his muscling out his competition. He’s crafty, staying below our radar for the most part by either co-opting anyone who crosses his path or somehow disposing bodies in ways we don’t discover. If he’s behind the Father Ted murder, my guess is he’s sending a message.
“To whom, I have no clue.” He leaned back again. “So, what can you tell me?”
“Nothing,” Trey shot back. “No one saw or heard anything and forensics is coming up with zilch, too.”
“Pity. You’ll keep me apprised of your progress, though, right? As a return on professional courtesy.” He gave Trey a lazy smile that used to make his dick hard in an instant. It almost did again, except the information bomb that Craig had provided—and Trey was working hard to appear sanguine about—was acting as a good boner-killer.
“Of course.” Trey had mastered hiding his feelings from his ex. It was easy to fall back into the habit. “Thanks for your help.”
“Any time. And, Trey?” he added as Trey and Karl turned to leave. �
�It was good to see you again.”
Because the guy appeared to genuinely mean it, Trey forced himself to nod and smile before leaving. He waited until they were in the hall before cursing loud enough for his partner to hear.
“You’re thinking what I’m thinking?” Karl asked.
“Yeah, but that’s crazy, right? The fucker is dead.”
“Is he? You said no one saw it with their own eyes.”
Trey led the way out of the building. “Alex and the others are sure, and that’s got to count for something.”
“Maybe they’re so desperate for their war to be over that they’re willing to ignore the obvious doubts.”
“Maybe,” Trey conceded as they jogged down the stairs to the parking lot. If that were true, then he was in the same category. Carrying Demi out of that castle of horrors, he’d hoped and prayed with all his will that the fight was truly over. Maybe he’d been fooling himself.
“Plus, it doesn’t have to be you know who. Thing One and Thing Two escaped, as well as a few others, right?”
“God, I hate it when you’re smart.”
“Gee, thanks.”
They strode over to their car. “I guess we need to take this to Alex. He and Val will be better judges of whether we have overactive imaginations or if a real threat exists. Plus, I want to talk again to that Damien kid.” He unlocked the doors.
“Maybe Logan can do some sniffing around for us,” Karl offered as he rounded the car to the passenger side.
“Good idea.” Trey slipped in behind the wheel. “Oh, damn, I still need to ask you for that favor.” He’d meant to finish the discussion he’d started back at the crime scene over a beer, but this case wasn’t going to give them a lot of down time.
“Sure, like I said, anything.”
Trey eyed his partner. “You need to hear me out first. This is going to be weird.”
Mating Dance Page 7
