His card was tented between my thumb and forefinger when he called my work phone. It had been only two days since his visit and I'd already missed him terribly. Hearing his voice was soothing. I tried to picture what he looked like, sitting before me as he spoke.
"I'm sorry for calling your work," he said. "Your home number was not listed."
"Quite all right, Detective Kennedy," I said. "I am pleased to hear from you."
There was a moment of silence before he spoke again.
"I would like to have another interview with you, if that is possible," he said.
"Of course," I said and sat up straight in my seat. The prospect of seeing him again soon made my heart skip a few beats. My throat went dry and suddenly I felt warm.
"What would be a good time for you?"
I looked at the clock on my desk and regarded the stack of papers I was due to finish today. I shook my head and pushed the papers away.
"I am free whenever you need me, Detective."
There was a brief moment of silence on the other end of the line. I heard papers being turned and a short sigh.
"I have a meeting in an hour. I can come by to your office after five?"
"My office's not a good place to speak of official police business," I said.
Another brief silence and then he suggested meeting at a café on top of the downtown Hilton. I have never been there but he assured me that he will request for a quiet, enclosed booth for us to speak.
"I will be there at five," I said. "I am looking forward on seeing you again."
An uncomfortable laugh answered me. He was not used to his subjects speaking to him with such language.
"Likewise," he said.
His sweet voice still echoed in my ear, even after the dial tone replaced it.
The café he had reserved for us was what befitted him. It was elegantly overpriced for a mere cup of coffee with too many pieces of furniture. It would be a place that I can see him frequent with his delicate lady friends.
He was already there when I arrived and I had arrived ten minutes early. He was sipping coffee from a plain white porcelain cup reading a small stack of paper gathered in a bull clip. He did not look up until I slid into the bench across from him.
“Oh,” he said and immediately put down his cup and his papers. “I’m sorry I didn’t hear you come up.”
I smiled and laid the attaché case I had down on its side beside me.
“Not at all,” I said.
“I’m sorry to have asked you to come out here on your own time.”
I shook my head again. A woman in a fitted pink uniform came to our table and inquired about my drink. I ordered a black coffee and Leon shook his head when she looked at him. As soon as she left, Leon’s face suddenly changed. He was suddenly serious, the smile gone from his face.
“I was informed that you sent a fax over to Mr. Sparda shortly before he disappeared. Why?”
“I wish to discuss the audit he had done on my department.”
“You do not have the capacity to make such a request, by your duty title.”
“That was why I had asked to speak to him privately. He had made a … negative assessment against the department whose chief I am friends with.”
“And what would have you discussed?”
“A re-assessment. Nothing more.”
He grew quiet again, when the woman came back with my coffee and placed it down carefully before me. He said nothing until we were left alone again.
“You were the only suspect on this case, so far,” he said. “Convince me why it should be otherwise.”
I shrugged.
“That is for you to prove, no? Detective?”
“You said you never met with him.”
“No. I assume you checked my alibis.”
“Yes. But those alibis are shaky. Those men admitted they had been drinking all night.”
I shrugged.
“I welcome you to look through my home, if you wish.”
He leaned back. He didn’t expect that.
“I don’t think the crime happened in your home,” he finally said.
“And you looked through my friend’s bar.”
“I did.”
I took a sip from the coffee. It was good, but it was hardly worth the $10 it was listed for.
“So what would you like for me to tell you, Detective? You know as much as I do.”
He frowned.
“I doubt it.”
“Your intuition?” I smiled.
He seemed to be speechless for a moment. Then the woman who had served us came to our table.
“Mr. Kennedy? There is a call for you.”
He appeared confused but he nodded and apologized to me and followed the woman to the courtesy phone. I smiled. My friend had done exactly as instructed, on time.
I opened my attaché and retrieved a small vial of the Rohypnol I had purchased two hours ago. I mixed it into his drink and stirred it, then tucked the empty vial back into my case. I waited for a few more minutes than he returned.
“Sorry about that,” he said. He said nothing more about the call although I am sure my friend’s call must have puzzled him.
“What have you known about my friend that owns the bar? Have you looked into his background?”
He picked up the spoon on his saucer and stirred the coffee.
“Are you implying he knew what happened?”
“Not at all. I am merely asking if you looked at everyone.”
He laid the spoon down and took a sip of the coffee. He looked at it for a second than added a little more creamer into the coffee.
“Would you like to save both of us trouble and just tell me what you know?”
He stirred the coffee a little more and downed more of it. I grinned inwardly.
“There is a thug by the name of Remus,” I said and took a sip from my own cup. “Do you know him?”
He shook his head.
“He frequents that bar. A friend of mine said Remus was planning on visiting the bar the night it closed – and he might have met with Dante when he had come by.”
“Who’s your friend?”
“Some people prefer not to be involved. Remus’ connected to the local mob.”
“So far you gave me theories. There’s no evidence this man snatched Dante.”
“Evidence and eye witnesses disappear when the mob’s involved.”
I looked down at my watch. I would need to keep him around for at least another twenty minutes. So I told him what I knew about Remus. At least some details were true.
“Just….put me in a cab…” he said softly. I had walked him toward the elevator, under the watchful eyes of the passing café customers. “I’ll…be fine.”
“I’ll take you home,” I said. “You might pass out in the cab.”
He fumbled for his cell phone in his pocket. I know he was probably trying to call someone to pick him up. His eyes were glazed over and unfocused. His fingers barely can hold onto the phone.
I took the phone from him and shook my head.
“I am here and I will take you home. No need to call and wait for someone.”
“I…can’t…” More of his weight slumped into my arms. He was slipping into unconsciousness.
The elevator came and opened, we stepped in. Rather, I stepped in and pulled him along. The bellman in the elevator frowned.
“Should I call 911?”
I shook my head.
“He’ll be fine,” I said in a whisper. “He is just feeling woozy from forgetting his medication. Please take us to the level 2 parking garage please.”
He looked uncertain but he stabbed the L2 button that lit up.
Leon’s eyes were already half lidded by the time we reached the parking. I pulled him along, his feet barely even carrying weight, toward my car. After I situated him into the passenger side, I had to smoke half a cigarette to calm myself down.
I have him.
I looked through his pockets and found his license bearing his address and the bundle of his keys. He had become unconscious by the time we left the garage.
I drove to my home first and parked in my garage and closed it. I contemplated on bringing him inside but I knew it was not wise to do so. Instead, I turned on the interior car light – dim but sufficient, and worked to remove his jacket.
I ran my fingers through his hair, savoring the silky feelings of them between my fingers. He was beautiful. I loosened the Windsor knot and pulled the navy blue-colored tie from around his neck. My hands were trembling as I undid the top button of his shirt. Although only a little of his collar bone can be seen - seeing the milk-white flesh aroused me. I had to lean back and away for a few moments to stop myself from cumming.
I pushed his seat back as far as it will go and let the back roll back until it was nearly flat down. Then slowly, gently - I pressed the buttons through the slits until his shirt was undone. I pulled the rest that had been tucked into his belt line and let the shirt splay open. A tentative touch at his belly - carefully, like I was studying an expensive piece of art. His body was firm - athletic.
Tips of my fingers flicked at the small maroon-colored nipples and traced the shapes of the areolas- stimulating them and filling them with blood. The little naps hardened nicely. I gave them small, careful licks – nothing harder so there would be marks left behind. I would like to bite into them, hard enough to draw blood but this would be too soon. I risk losing him if I was impatient.
I cupped his crotch and thumbed the bulge tucked in there. For now, I would have to be content with just feeling him and smelling the soft scent of him. I undid my pants and pressed his hand over it – his slightly calloused hands, perhaps from his firearms, was maddenly wonderful. My hand wrapped around his until his palm held my cock. I licked at his nipples again, as I pumped his hand over my erection. I barely pulled away in time to catch my cum in a hand towel I had readied near by.
After I catch my breath and tucked myself back in, I cleaned his hand and chest with a moist towelette. He can’t know about my obsession. Not yet. I dressed him with great reluctance then kissed him on his lips.
“Someday soon, you will learn to do that with your lovely mouth,” I said to him.
With a deep sigh, I looked at the address on his license. I would have to take him back to his home now.
On the way back to his address, I had made copies of each key he had. I was not certain which ones were his house keys. It didn’t matter. I would have access to everything he had.
He had lived in an apartment in a gated community. One of the keys had been for the manual unlock, in case the key card had been forgotten. The community was well kept, complete with manicured lawns and a scalloped shaped water fountain. There was a worn wooden signage that said the complex name was “Valencia”. The gray and white buildings were closely knitted together with perhaps six feet cobble stone paths between each building.
Dear Mr. Kennedy lived in the sixth of the eight building spread, on the first floor. It was dusk by the time I found his apartment and pulled into an empty parking spot a few feet from his building. Although there weren’t many people about, I didn’t want to take any chances. I got out of the vehicle and located the exact apartment first, then went through the bundle of keys until I unlocked the door. After I was certain I was in the right place and there was no one in the apartment, I fetched him from the car. There were some inquisitive glances but no one said or did anything. There were no reasons to.
I laid him down on his bed and set out to explore his apartment. I studied it, taking careful mental notes of the layout. The apartment was standard. A small kitchen connected to a dining room that also doubled as the living room. A small room that he had set up as an office next to the master bedroom. The bathroom that was connected to the master bedroom. There were windows in each room except for the bathroom. There was a thick plexi-glassed sliding door between the kitchen and the dining room. A quick search through the keys and I found it amongst the bundle.
“This is too easy,” I said to myself as I went to the master bedroom to check on Leon. He was still unconscious. The temptation to touch him again was over powering. I consoled myself with removing his jacket and shoes. I undid his tie and top two buttons of his shirt. Instead of tucking him into the bed, I folded the duvet over him. I left the light on and wrote him a simple note and left it on the kitchen table.
I went to my friend’s bar and rewarded myself with four shots of the most expensive aged whiskey. As I was leaving, familiar sounds of noxious laugher resonated from the back of the room where the pool table was. It was disappointing not to see him but three of friends were there, harassing the waitress who had served them beer while they shot pool. I asked the bartender for an unopened bottle of Jack Daniel and a stack of clean shot glasses and walked over to them.
“Gentlemen,” I said, raising the bottle for them to see. “Mind joining me in the office for a few shots?”
“The cops are after us because – “
I shook my head.
“I think you all should join me in the office for a few shots.”
They looked at each other, uncertain until one of them nodded and led the way toward the back of the bar. I followed, after I scanned the room to be certain we weren’t watched.
“If you are asking where Remus is,” the one who had a t-shirt with the name “Rocco” stitched in yellow thread over the left pocket said. “We don’t know.”
I laid the glasses and the bottle down. Rocco twisted open the top of the Jack after a minor struggle.
“The cops’ been asking us a lot of questions,” another one said. “It’s really goddamn annoying.”
“They have nothing,” I said. “As long as you continue to know nothing, they will never have anything.”
“Came to just tell us that?” Rocco said, pouring a shot for himself and drank it quickly.
“One of the cops asking you questions, was he a detective?”
“Yeah,” the one wearing a battered baseball cap backwards said. “Kennedy or something.”
“Do you find him attractive?”
The room was silent for a moment. One more round of shot was passed around before baseball cap said, “why are you asking?”
“You missed out during Remus and Dante’s interlude, no?”
“Rape a cop?” Rocco said. “You fucking insane?”
“Would you want him, if you knew you could get away with it?”
Another moment of silence and more drinks.
“Doing him would just point him to us,” baseball cap said. “As much as I like to stick it to him – “
“Obviously you are not going to show him your faces,” I said. “I had hinted to him that Dante’s disappearance might be mob related. Why not convince him so and have him follow different leads and away from you completely?”
“He’s not that dumb,” Rocco said.
“He might not be but he would have to follow the only leads he has,” I said. “And there might just be a chance that he’s going to quit this case all together, after the visit.”
“And you are gonna watch,” Rocco said.
“Of course.”
“I don’t get you,” he said, swirling the few drops left in his shot glass.
“You don’t have to ‘get me’,” I said. “Would you do it?”
It took them a few more shots and a nearly empty bottle to decide. Of course, it could have been the alcohol making the promise.
“He’s pretty hot,” baseball hat said, his face half flushed and his eyes glassy. He had slurred all the “s” he had said. “…was thinking about throat fucking him all that time he talkin’.”
Rocco and the other one laughed.
“Wouldn’t mind a taste,” Rocco said. He rolled the empty glass in his palms. “We wouldn’t get caught, eh?”
“It would seem that I would be as deeply involved.”
Rocco picked up the near empty bottle of whiskey and looked at his partners. They shared a drunken laughter before Rocco drained the remains of the Jack.
“We are all ears,” he said.
I phoned Valencia’s rental office next day and made several inquires on their apartments. I was pleased to learn that they were sound proof, for the most part. And there were no tenants above Leon’s unit. His apartment would have only one neighbor, since he lived in the left most section of the building.
Not long after I hung up the phone, Leon called. He sounded groggy and confused. He apologized and thanked me.
“How are you doing?” I said.
There was a pause. I heard a PA system in his background paging a doctor to return to x-ray. The clever boy had gone to the hospital and perhaps had already had his blood taken. He was probably in midst of an examination for the cause of his unconsciousness.
“What happened to me last night?” He finally said. He wasn’t asking a question. He was demanding an answer.
I told him. He was quiet for a long time. In the background, the PA paged a nurse and two doctors to ER.
“I need to speak to you again,” he said. “At the station.”
“It would have to wait, detective. I will be away to New York for several days the day after tomorrow.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “Please call me when you return so we can make an appointment.”
“I have asked my informant to contact you,” I said, catching him just as he was saying his good-bye.
“Thank you,” he said and finally hung up. My hands were shaking so badly from the burst of adrenaline then the phone clacked against the receiver loudly before I could property seat it. And after some semblance of bearing was gathered, I pushed myself away from the table to make a call to Rocco from the pay phone in the cafeteria.
Soon…. Very soon….
“Don’t get you,” Rocco said as he slid into the bench across from me in the booth. We had met at a rather trashy strip bar where the women wore too much make up and hairspray, and looked bored as they danced on the small stage.
“Did you call?”
“Yeah,” he said and gestured for a waitress to come to him. When she did, he said ‘Bud on tap.”
“And?”
“Disguised my voice,” he said after the waitress scurried away. “Told him what you said to say.”
“Tell me,” I said.
He rolled his eyes and let out a sigh.
“I need to know if you left out any details,” I said.
Then he repeated the conversation he had with Leon, after the beer came. The glass was emptied when he finished. I smiled at him approvingly.
“Why don’t we just snatch him now? Be easy.”
“It’ll be too easy. I don’t want him like that.”
He shrugged and held up his emptied glass until the waitress acknowledged him. She came to the table and left the second glass on the table and took away the empty one.
“You guys know what to do tomorrow night?”
He nodded. I asked him to repeat the instructions and after he did so with satisfaction, I left a $20 for his drinks and went home. I had a flight to catch in a few hours.
I had left
for New York
on time and
checked into
a modest
hotel a
little after
2AM. After
hanging the
“Do Not
Disturb”
sign on the
doorknob, I
returned to
the airport
and rented a
car there
and drove
home.
It was nearly 4PM when I did return, but I had checked into a nearby motel where I was to meet the boys. They were there already, smoking and passing a bottle of gin amongst themselves.
“It doesn’t get dark until after six,” I said. “And he usually gets home at about seven, that is, if he’s not on a call.”
“So when do we roll?”
“Five-Thirty,” I said and laid down on one of the beds. Although I was too excited to sleep, my eyes needed rest.
And we had arrived at his complex ten to six. We had parked the car half a mile away behind a church and walked. There weren’t many people out and about but it’s always good to be cautious. We split up, taking different routes to Leon’s apartment. His car wasn’t in the lot. And after listening to the backdoor for a few moments, he was not home yet. As planned, I was the first one on scene to open the backdoor for them with the made key. Then I made fresh scratches around the lock. The boys came in moments later, one by one.
It was a little difficult to move in the dimly lit apartment and there were bumps against furniture here and there, but we were able to maneuver through the rooms with the pen light. We positioned ourselves and waited.
He came home finally, a little after eight. By then, the boys’ frustration had neared its peak.
He was looking at the batch of letters in his right hand as he walked through the door. Absently, he shoved the door close his left and felt for the light switch beside it. He clicked the switch on but the light did not come on. I had loosened the light bulb. He looked up, at the table lamp first then it must have been instinct that made him drop the letters in his hand and press his hand into his jacket. Rocco, the experienced thug that he was, was already on him.
“Don’t do it,” he said, his snub nose revolver was already pointed. He had walked out from where he was waiting in the kitchen.
“What do you want?” Leon said, his hand came out and up carefully.
“You shall find out soon,” the man who only goes by the letter “C” said as he stepped out from the office, his handgun also drawn.
Although the lighting was poor in the room – the only illumination was from what street light had slipped in from between the blinds, there were fear in his eyes. Actually, I would think him strange if he hadn’t shown it. The boys were creative in their selection of masks. The colorful rubber masks of laughing clowns with florescent curled hair would frighten anyone.
“Turn around, on your knees,” Rocco said, “cross your ankles. Hands back of your neck, interlock your fingers.”
Leon took in a deep breath and was probably debating if he could take a chance pulling his gun or even try to run. Neither option was in his favor. When Tegan came out to stand next to C, Leon turned around and did as he was told.
“You are making a mistake,” Leon said. Rocco stood to the side, making sure Leon could see the gun as C. searched him. After extracting the gun, emptying the clip and the round in the chamber into the kitchen sink – C. disassembled the gun.
“No mistake,” Tegan said. “Traced the snitch’s cell phone to your office. What did he tell you?”
The jacket was ripped away from him.
“He told me nothing,” Leon said.
Although they had come with their own cuffs, they used the one clipped on Leon’s belt. Behind the back, palms out.
“An hour of nothing to talk about?”
Leon was seized by the collar of his shirt and he was half dragged into the center of the living room where a large clear plastic sheet had been unrolled and laid out. The plastic crunched with sound as Leon was shoved onto it. He could not have prevented his footing from giving out under him.
“You can say that,” Leon said, sitting up and folding his legs beneath him. Fear was gone. He looked angry. “He didn’t show up for a meeting this morning.”
“He won’t show up to any meeting again,” Rocco said. He knelt down in front of Leon. The guns were put away. I remained in the shadows, the unseen fourth person.
“You killed him?”
Rocco shrugged and patted Leon’s cheek. Leon pulled away, indignant. The men laughed.
“Our boss just want to give you a message, Detective Kennedy,” Rocco said, gesturing for C to retrieve the gag from the bag. “If you are not too much of a bitch to deal with, you’ll live.”
Rocco’s gloved hand stroked along Leon’s cheek slowly at first. When C came forward with the gag, the fingers tightened around the hinges of Leon’s jaw. Tegan pulled his head back with a fist full of hair. The fear came back into his eyes again, when he saw what was in C’s hands.
“Come now,” Rocco said, laughter in his voice. “It’s not even a real one…”
The gag was tipped with a few inches of rubber penis. He fought, tearing against the hands that held him. The men laughed and allowed him to struggle for a few moments before they shoved that thing into his mouth and clasped close the binding. The length must have touched the back of his throat. For a few moments, Leon coughed against it and gagged.
“You look pretty nice like that, detective.”
As C took pictures for me, Rocco and Tegan stripped him. Carefully and slowly, working their scissors along the fabric until it could be pulled off. He bucked and kicked, stifled curses and screams came from the bottom of his throat.
“Walk away from this case,” Rocco said, running his hand along the nude legs. “And maybe this will be the worst that will happen to you.”
The shredded clothing lay scattered. Leon was still struggling, but most of the fight had left him. He looked exhausted. More pictures were taken.
“Wonder how fast these pictures would circulate on the internet,” C said.
Leon’s eyebrows furrowed.
Leon’s thighs were splayed open for a couple of more shots. C sat down on the sofa, occasionally pulling at the pants at his groin and watched, looking for opportune snaps to take.
Fingers were shoved into Leon, harshly and without finesse. He screamed against the gag and his back arched. Rocco and Tegan laughed and two more fingers were pushed in. The finger twisted and from the way Leon’s body reacted, they probably curled their fingers and pulled at the insides.
“You going to be a good boy and leave us alone?” Tegan said. He pulled his fingers out and Leon’s body slackened a little. Rocco’s digits were still in there, knuckle deep.
“You are a pretty boy,” Rocco said. A couple of more turns of his fingers and they were withdrawn. “You can find plenty of other work that’s not so dangerous.”
Leon’s cheeks were pulled apart until the hole dilated to the size of a dime. Rocco spat at it, then pushed three fingers back in. A stifled whimper came from his throat and the shoulders hitched. I wished there were more lighting so I may catch a glimpse of the tears that surely had been wrung from his eyes.
“I would really like to assure you that this would not hurt a bit, but….” Rocco said finally, taking his fingers out and moved to undo his pants. His hideous erection sprung forward. Leon shook his head and writhed backwards on his elbows, desperate to get away.
He had moved into a brighter shadow and I can see that his cheeks were wet. I found myself catching my breath and swallowing it hard. C snapped a few pictures, as if he understood what I wanted. Then he took a few posed pictures of Rocco’s engorged cock pressed against Leon’s puckered hole.
“Would you like for us to be nice and make this a little easier?” C. said after he set the camera aside and pulled out a bottle of lubricant. He waved it in a slow circle.
“Don’t need that,” Rocco said, pulling Leon’s thighs further apart. “The little bitch should feel everything.”
C tossed the bottle at Rocco and he caught it.
“Perhaps the rest of us don’t care for too much blood at our turn, asshole,” Tegan said.
Rocco cursed under his breath and flicked open the cap with his thumb. He poured a liberal amount into one open palm and slid it over his erection.
“You make sure you thank your fairy godmothers there really good when it’s their turn,” Rocco said. A little more from the bottle to slather against Leon’s entrance and it was hastily cast to the side. Rocco’s greased hand worked his cock a little more, then Leon’s hole. C picked up his camera again and crouched down in position to take more photos.
Then Rocco pushed in. Slowly. He probably had no choice. The slicked orifice was slow to open. Leon’s face paled and his eyes grew large. His chest no longer rose or fell – all breath had been stolen from him. I wish I could have heard the scream that had been caught in his throat then.
The tight pucker finally swallowed the thick head and the room lit up in quick flashes as C took the pictures. The rest of the length was pushed in, with Rocco’s fingers gripping hard onto Leon’s hips. So hard that I knew there would be bruises there soon.
“Tightest pussy I’ve ever had,” Rocco said, his voice heavy.
“Just hurry the shit up,” Tegan said. His own erection’s evident, pressing against his denim in a thick bulge. He knelt down beside Leon’s head and brushed away the hair that had fallen over his damp face. “We only got one mouth to fuck among three cocks here.”
Rocco lifted Leon a little higher off the ground and leaned forward. Only his moved, as he thrust in and out in hard jabs. Leon started to breathe again and as he cried out the best he could through the gag, he writhed furiously – as if he would try to buck Rocco off him. Instead, Rocco only rolled into him harder, deeper.
“I know it sounds sarcastic to you now but we rather like you, Mr. Kennedy. You are a good cop in a very unfortunate circumstance… and we’d like for you to not to be too hurt.” Tegan said. His calloused fingers plucked at the nipples – rolling and pulling at the delicate buds until the skin around the areoles turned into a light shade of red. “Maybe our boss will be nice to us again and arrange another date for us.”
Rocco’s face flushed and his heavy breathing came with sounds that was not unlike feral grunts. Tegan grimaced.
“Don’t cum in there,” he reminded Rocco.
Perhaps only a few more seconds passed when Rocco let out a yell and pulled out, then spilling his cum over Leon’s belly. As Rocco pulled at the length of his half-softened cock to drain it, Tegan was already shifting over, undoing his pants as he does so. Soon, he was taking the position between Leon’s thighs and pushing in.
The room lit up brightly and then darkened quickly as C continued to take the photos. Although I had wanted to continue to watch, my arousal had already neared its peak. I backed away and made myself walk into the nearest room – his study, just to clear my mind, and stave off the orgasm.
I closed the door behind me first before I flicked the light on. I can still hear them, but the violent rustles of the plastic had drowned out most of Leon’s muffled cries. And as he was being used terribly by three social misfits, I studied his belongings.
I looked at the pictures that were displayed on expensive glass shelves along the right wall. There was a photo of him in a crisp blue police uniform posing with a middle-aged woman in a red floral dress. There were several like-uniformed men behind him in the background. It must have been his academy graduation picture. However long ago it might have been, he changed very little in his appearance. There were more photos spread along the shelves, some faded into an antique tan from age, of different men and women posing in vacation places that I could not recognize.
He had several shadow boxes of his citations with decoration ribbons. The gold plating inside the box only stated his name and the date he was awarded. There were no information on why he had been given them.
Along the left wall, there were tall book shelves made from cherry wood with a dark finish. Most of the books were law and investigation reference books. There were a few criminal psychology hardcovers shoved in between them. On the bottom most shelf, there were over-sized books made for coffee table displays on the Louvre and Vatican museum.
His desk with a high back leather chair occupied the back end of the room. The Venetian blind behind it was drawn down and its blades rolled down. The desk top was neat, with only a laptop with its screen folded down and a banker’s lamp in one corner.
I had looked at everything in the room without touching them. Although I was quite tempted to take something – anything. Something trivial that he might not even notice it had gone missing just so I have something that belonged to him. I severed myself from this temptation and left the study, and returned to the living room.
C was using Leon by then – shoving into him so hard that there were smudges of blood between Leon’s thighs. Tegan was taking the pictures while Rocco stood to the side, fisting his own cock - trying to work up another erection.
“Take it easy, will ya?” Tegan said. “Can’t have him to have to go to the hospital y’know.”
C laughed and made his strokes slow and drawn out.
“I can go for awhile,” C said. He leaned in, moving only his hips in a slow circle.
“Look at me, Mr. Kennedy,” C said. He waited patiently for Leon’s half-lidded eyes to open and focus on him.
“What happens to you after our date tonight, is entirely up to you. You can report this and try to find us…and maybe you will be lucky and you will find one or all of us, but bear in mind that people like us are a dime a dozen. There will be more of our colleagues looking for you and I am quite sure they are not as kind as we are.”
C changed his pace into shallow jabs, but only his hips moved. For a moment, Leon’s attention was taken by the new pain and C waited until Leon re-focused again before he continued to speak.
“So either you resign from this case or you find new leads to harass. Heard you are a good cop with an outstanding career ahead of you. You just got shit for luck drawing this case but you also got a second chance. And to give you a heads up, honey – because you ain’t a bad looking boy, as they say – a fate worse than death, will await you if you want to test your luck