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Authors: Keta Diablo

Tags: #Keta Diablo, #crossroads, #phaze books, #suspense, #homoerotic, #baltimore

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BOOK: Crossroads Revisited
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“I’ll give you one chance to tell me why
my Jack Daniels is bottoming out all the time, and you should know,” Frank
added, “I’ve been marking the bottles.”

He hedged.

“I’ll start counting, and for every
second that passes, I’ll match it with a welt on your ass.”

“Wait…”

“One, two, three…”

“Christ, stop counting. I’m going to
tell you.”

“Four, five, six.”

“I stole it.”

Frank rolled his eyes. “You could have
knocked me over with a feather. It’s a two-fold question: are you using other
drugs and why did you steal my whiskey?”

“I hit the legal age limit four years
ago, Frank.”

“This isn’t about the legal age limit
and you know it!” Anger gave way to concern. “A former pot head exchanges one
vice for another turning to alcohol. Are you using drugs?”

“No, I’m not.”

“You gave your word you’d stay away from
alcohol while you attended college and lived with me. We made an agreement, and
you broke it.”

Rand’s gaze carried less fear than his
voice. “Everyone parties at Johns Hopkins, that’s what preppies do.”

“That’s the oldest excuse in the book,
and I don’t care about the others. Your mother would freak if she saw your
grades, and she only agreed to let you live here for two reasons. One, you
wanted to, and two, you promised to quit the drugs and get a degree in
medicine.”

Rand fell mute and chewed on the inside
of his cheek. The most beautiful kid Frank ever laid eyes on. Frank had to
remind himself to rein in his lust right now. An impossible undertaking no
matter how hard he tried.  Rand wasn’t a kid, but Frank had known him since he
rode a bike to get around. The lines blurred at times, wandering between an
overwhelming desire to fuck him senseless one minute and protect him from
everything in the world the next.  

A stream of sunlight fell through the
kitchen window, capturing Rand’s shiny black hair and sculpted features. Need
and hot desire rushed through Frank’s veins, replaced moments later by a bleak
image of Rand floating listlessly in the water, his long, dark hair fanned out
around him. Damn the dreams and visions. 

“Rand, five young men have died now,
college students, after a night of binge drinking at a bar.”

“Oh, get off it. You know they didn’t
die from drinking.”

“No, they drowned after walking into the
river during a drunken stupor.”

Rand shook his head. “It’s incredible
you believe that—you, a man who dabbles in perceptions and has the ability to
connect with his Inner Spirit. Have you consulted it, Frank, huh?”

“Yes, damn it, I have, and we’re not
going to talk about that now. All I know is five men are dead, you took my
whisky and broke promises to your mother and me.” He reached across the counter
and grabbed the collar of his shirt. “You going to drop your jeans, or should I
forcefully take them off you?”

His moss-green eyes sparked, yet his
voice trembled. Frank wondered at times if Rand feared him. He knew he loved
him, but he didn’t want Rand to be afraid of him. It was a double-edged sword
and another fucking complication in Frank’s life. He cringed at the word
love
,
tried to convince himself what he felt for Rand fell under the category of hot,
primal lust. Truthfully, there were times those indelible boundaries blurred,
too, meshed together until Frank thought he’d die if Rand left his life.

“Jesus, you’re serious?”

Frank nodded.

“Can I leave my boxers on?” he asked,
keeping his eyes on Frank’s belt.

“I’m not going to use the belt on your
ass if that’s what you’re wondering, and no, you can’t. Ditch everything from
the waist down.”

“But, if you’re not going to use the
belt, why do I have―”

Frank rose, walked around the ledge, and
grabbed a lock of his hair. “Do I look like I need to explain everything to
you? Now, drop those jeans and boxers, and get on your knees before the couch.”

Rand unzipped his denims, slid them down
his hips, and next went the boxers.

“Step out of them and be quick about it.”
Frank pointed to the couch. “I’m late for work.” 

Visibly trembling, Rand kicked his jeans
away and walked toward the sofa. Frank followed Rand and plopped onto the
cushions in front of him. “Lift your shirt, let me see if you’re turned on.”
The tip of Rand’s hard cock glistened like a ripe, purple plum. Frank didn’t
know what he wanted to do more, suck him off until he whimpered and begged, or
turn his ass red. “Good boy, now come here.” He tapped the paddle he’d pulled
out on the cushion.

“You said you weren’t going to spank
me.”

“I’m not going to
whip
you. I’m
going to give you the spanking of your life. There’s a difference, and if I
have to ask you again, I’ll use the belt.”

When Rand dropped onto the sofa, Frank
pulled him onto his lap and pushed his face into the cushions. Holding Rand’s
upper body down with a strong arm, he ran his fingers down the length of Rand’s
spine, his touch light and meant to heighten the tension. Rand’s body trembled.
Frank spread Rand’s cheeks and found his hole with his finger, circling the
outer rim gently.

Rand emitted a soft moan. “What-what are
you doing? Oh, God.”

“Getting that puckered hole ready for
the ass plug.”

Frank slid his thumb in and applied
pressure up and down, left and right, stretching it amid Rand’s cries of bliss.
Without uttering a word, Frank picked the anal plug from his pocket and brought
it up to where his fingers worked their magic. With expert skill, he positioned
the plug next to his index finger and, removing the digit, slipped in the toy.
Rand jerked forward and upward.

“Oh, God, oh,” he said between short,
little pants.

Frank twisted the plug and moved it in
and out, his movements tortuously slow as he held Rand firmly over his knees.
“Feel that? It’s all the way in.” Frank pushed hard on the end of the plug.

Rand buried his face in the cushion and
a low groan escaped from his lips.

“I don’t have to tell you, the spanking
is coming hard and fast. I’m going to turn that firm, ripe ass of yours red.”

Quivering with expectancy, Rand’s body
instinctively tensed. When Frank brought the paddle down hard, Rand writhed
beneath him and buried his pelvic bones into Frank’s lap. Frank whacked him
three times and waited, allowing him time to absorb the pain. Rand whimpered
when Frank ran his hands across the raised welts. “Think about that plug up
your ass while I spank you.”

Rand tensed his butt cheeks again.

Frank’s cock swelled and pulsated in the
same fashion it always did when he looked at Rand’s ass. The kid had the most
amazing bottom he’d ever seen in his life. Taut, smooth, and firm, a dimple
resided in the hollow of his back where spine ended and cheeks began. Seized by
a momentum to turn it crimson and hear Rand moan, he launched into a serious
spanking, the paddle moving rapidly over every part of his bottom. It turned pink
before morphing in hue to a pale red. Rand gyrated in his lap and cried out.
Before long, groans escaped his lips and his pelvis rocked in sync with the
measured strokes. 

Frank stopped briefly and slipped his
hand between Rand’s hips and his knees, not the least bit surprised to feel his
rock-hard erection. “You get off when I beat your ass, don’t you, Rand?”

He shook his head.

“Yes, you do, you lying little fuck.
You’re so hot and hard, you’re ready to burst. You want to come, pretty boy?
Want to spill your seed while I spank you?”

“God, I’ll bring my grades up, I
promise.”

Frank dug his elbow into his back. “I
asked you a question, and you better tell me the truth. I’m giving you an
opportunity to jerk yourself off while I turn your ass red. Do you want to do
that?”

He nodded on a frustrated groan.

Frank handed him a handkerchief. “Come
into this, and don’t spill a drop on my couch. You hear me?”

Rand nodded, took the hankie from him,
and lifted his hips to wrap the fabric around the tip of his cock. Frank
slapped the back of his thighs hard, mesmerized by the red welts the paddle
left on his pale skin. When he moved on to Rand’s flaming ass cheeks and
brought the paddle down swift and hard, Rand’s body jerked upward. He set upon
him savagely, until he whimpered softly. Still Frank didn’t stop. He knew he
should, but he was so turned on by the image of Rand bucking beneath him while
his ass turned bright red. And every time he thought about the whiskey, the
lies, and dead men, he brought it down again.

“You love the pain and pleasure all
rolled into one, don’t you, Rand?”

“Oh, God, yes, yes.”

Rand lifted his ass, his hand pumping
hard on the cock beneath his gyrating bottom. Strangled moans and groans came
from the back of his throat.

“Oh, God, it’s coming, I’m going to
come, don’t stop. Spank me hard, Frank, don’t stop. I’m coming, oh Christ, here
it comes.”

Rand’s body stiffened and cries of
pleasure echoed in the room. He bucked his hips up and down, and pitched his
body forward. At the last second, Frank cupped Rand’s penis in his hand and
felt his release. On and on it went, hot and wet exploding into the hankie. It
stopped jerking for a second and spurt again and again in an endless stream of
thick semen. Frank milked Rand’s cock as it jerked spasmodically in the last
throes of ejaculation. Rand’s ass, high in the air, quivered like jelly. A
series of rapturous moans escaped his lips before he collapsed against Frank’s
lap.

“Better than you ever imagined, huh,
pretty boy? I think you make it your mission to piss me off so I punish you.”

“You’re a cold-hearted bastard,” Rand
said, trying to catch his breath.

“You still hiding in that closet?”

“Fuck you. Anyone’s body would respond
to―”

Frank couldn’t help the mockery in his
laugh. “You came so hard just now, you almost passed out.”

“Let me go. I gotta get back to class.”

“One more thing before I let you up. I’m
not a babysitter. You want to fuck up in school, go ahead, but you’ll be back
living with your mother quicker than flies mate.” He rubbed his hand over his
ass. “And maybe I’ll start looking for an honest, mature roommate.”

“Go ahead, McGuire,” Rand said, his
voice edged with cockiness. “Remember, though, all the good-looking queers sit
by me in school.”

Frank grabbed him by his shirt collar
and yanked his neck back. “Are you threatening me, pretty boy? You’ve had a
taste of your first man and now you want to know if there’s someone better out
there?”

“No,” he said, his voice quavering. “You
just piss me off sometimes.”

“Good.” Frank released him. “That makes
us even.”

When Frank scooted out from under him,
Rand scrambled from the couch, scurried to his boxers and jeans on the floor,
and pulled them over his hips. He picked up his backpack and headed for the
front door, stopping at the sound of Frank’s voice.

“I’ll be late tonight since I had to
stay home this morning and perform my duties.”

He jerked around, his eyes dark and hot.
“You’re not my fucking keeper!”

“No,” he said, “I’m not, and I’ll make
sure you know that when I get home tonight. If you know what’s good for you,
you’ll be here at seven o’clock, naked and in my bed.”

Rand didn’t answer him, but left the
townhome in a huff, slamming the door behind him.

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

 

Frank pulled the Denali onto the
interstate and headed for his office. A curse left his lips when his latte went
flying while reaching for his cell phone on the passenger seat. “Hey, Grace,”
he said after flipping it open. “I bet you’re wondering if I died.”

His office assistant’s throaty laugh
echoed through the line. “That would be a cold day in Hell.”

“Which, that I died or you’d be
wondering?”

“I always worry about you, Frank, you
know that. How would I pay my rent if you died?” Before he had a chance to
answer, she changed the subject. “Baltimore’s finest is here and he brought the
upper brass with him.”

“Is that code for Jeffords and the FBI?”

“You’re so perceptive, Frank, no pun
intended. When should I say you’ll arrive?”

“How about ten minutes? As soon as I
wipe the double-shot mocha off the seat of my car, I’m there.”

“Over and out,” Grace said and hung up.

Frank parked the Denali in front of the
old brownstone and rushed up the steps with images of Rand flashing through his
brain. Hounded by the pervasive snapshots, the quick-flash montage left him
with a queasy, bleak feeling. His Inner Spirit had sent transmissions for days—dark,
subliminal messages that warned of something evil riding the wind. What did
they have to do with Rand?

BOOK: Crossroads Revisited
12.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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