The Dark Horse - lanyon Josh (книги онлайн полные TXT) 📗
Dan's hand stilled. He shifted around on the mattress, nudging my legs apart. I didn't have time to do more than register this when, to my shock, I felt him spread my cheeks and lick the tender flesh like you'd taste a peach. I bucked, and he gave a low laugh. «Jeeeeesus,» I whispered.
He licked my balls, then behind my balls, working his way back up. I couldn't believe it – this rude kiss. He was such a fastidious and careful guy – and with the papers to prove it. I could not believe this was Dan nuzzling my ass. Maybe I was delusional.
It took all my will power to lie still as his tongue did those shattering things: delicate, wicked, teasing tracery as he worked the sensitive skin around my hole.
Rim job. That's what they called this. Ugly phrase for something that felt so … ravishing. Now there was a good old fashioned word – a Biblical word – and this obviously was not Dan's first time at ravishing someone, and if he kept this up I was most definitely going to come – Slippery heat slowly pressed in.
I whimpered, squirmed, humped. He caught my hips, holding me fast. He kept pressing, pressing.
«D-Danny …» I wondered if I would simply dissolve; my insides felt like hot liquid. My mind felt gray and blank and shaken like the magic screen on an Etch A Sketch.
Dan's tongue circled and then pushed right in. Deep. I could hear myself mewling, inarticulate and helpless, as his hot slick tongue thrust in and out of my clenched-tight hole. And, right on cue, I began to come.
And all those words flitting around in my brain flew away and left me spiraling into some sweet and silent space where the only thing real was Dan's strong arms holding me close.
Chapter Four
When I woke the next time it was hours later and I had the vague memory of hearing the front door close. I rolled over and checked the clock on the other side of the bed. Nearly one o'clock.
I sat up cautiously. I felt a hell of a lot better than I had that morning, that was for sure. I rubbed my eyes, listened to the sound of the sea a few yards away and the wind whispering at the window casements. Beyond that … silence. A safe silence. The security system would be on. Dan was meticulous about that.
My ring glinted on the nightstand. I didn't remember pulling it off, but I must have when I'd come in last night. That had been childish. I picked up the chain and fastened it around my neck.
The floorboard in the doorway creaked and I glanced around. Dan stood there filling the doorway, and I felt the hair at the nape of my neck prickle. He was so quiet. I was sure he'd gone out. «Did I wake you? I just stepped out to check the mail,» he said. The mail. Not easy to speak around the knot in my throat. What would today's postcard read? I'm on the first step … Before I could form the question, Dan said, «There was nothing for you.» «There … wasn't?» He shook his head.
The wave of relief was so fierce it caught me off balance; I had to look away so that he didn't see the effort it took to control my face. I leaned forward, pretended to feel under the bed – like, what was I looking for? My dignity?
The mattress sank. I stiffened as he sat down next to me on the edge of the bed. Then he put his arm around me, and I surrendered to the desire to be held, to be comforted, turning to him, resting my face against his throat. I could feel the warmth of his skin against my mouth and eyes, feel the pulse beating at the base of his neck, slow and steady and calm. His words vibrated against my face. «Did you have a good sleep?»
I nodded. Raised my head. Pretended I was wiping sleep out of my eyes. «Yeah. I did.»
«Your cheeks are pink.» He brushed his knuckles against the bristle on my jaw. «What were you dreaming?»
I thought of what had preceded that deep, deep sleep and felt my face warm. I had dreamed about him but in the dream we had been arguing. I was glad that it had only been a dream, that we were okay again. «I don't remember. Remind me not to drink that much on an empty stomach.» «You want me to fix you something to eat?» Spareribs or eggs benedict? I shuddered. «I think I'm going to work out.»
He smoothed his hand over my back. «Okay, chief. If you're going for a swim or a run, give me a shout. I need the exercise.» I was staring out the window watching the surfers when the phone rang.
«I can guess who that is,» Dan commented. He closed the dishwasher and turned the dial. Maria only came in on weekdays and Dan couldn't tolerate clutter for more than a few hours. My eyes lingered on the broad shoulders beneath the plain white undershirt, lean hips and long legs encased in faded blue Levis. All this and housework, too. «Dude!» called the answering machine over the rumble of the dishwasher. I gave Dan an apologetic look and picked up the phone. «Hey.» «So …» Steve asked cautiously. «Any more special deliveries?» «No.» «No?» He sounded as surprised as I had.
«Nothing since Friday.» I glanced Dan's way. His back was to me, but I knew he was listening. It gave me an uncomfortable feeling.
Next to my ear, Steve said, «Wow. Maybe … maybe it was just that Hammond's last few cards got delayed somehow.» That startled me. «What do you mean? Why would you say that?»
«Dude, chill. I mean cards he sent before he died were delayed by the mail. Not that he's still out there picking picture postcards. And try saying that three times fast.»
«Oh. Right.» I tried to inject a smile in my voice, but I must not have been successful. «You okay?» Steve asked. «You sound … off.» «Fine.» «No more panic attacks, right?» I flicked a look Dan's way. He was watching me openly now. «Nope.»
I wanted to ask Steve if he'd had a chance to talk to anyone at LAPD about the recovery of Hammond's body, but I couldn't do it with Dan standing there. I knew that would not go over well.
«Well, groovy. Nothing to worry about, because it's all over, right? Hey, listen, I've got some good news.» «About The Charioteer?» «Huh? Oh. No. Have you finished reading the screenplay?» «Yes. I want to do it.»
He sighed. «All right. I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, what do you think about doing a voice-over for the new StarCatz series?» «What the hell is StarCatz?»
«A very hot kid's show that NBC plans to use as a mid-season replacement. The creator and producer, Dick Dexa, saw you in Winchester 2010 and he's expressed an interest in you for Captain Starbuckle's teenage son Jason.»
«I hope you're kidding.» Sometimes it seemed like I'd gotten more damn attention from a bit part as a smart-ass strung-out hired gun in a big-budget action adventure flick, than I'd received in my entire film career. «I'm not kidding you. NBC anticipates a mega hit with this show.» «With a cartoon show?» «I know. Unbelievable, huh? Even more unbelievable, they want you.» «But … there's nothing distinctive about my voice.» «What can I say? Dick Dexa thinks you sound like a spunky space cadet.» «Spunky? Funny.»
«I thought you'd like that.» He grew serious. «Sean, listen for a sec. I know this isn't really your kind of thing, but it's an easy gig and … we need it. The artsy fartsy stuff is fine
and it wins awards, but you've got to balance it with something that pays. If it wasn't for your Uncle Sean's trust fund you'd be living on pasta salad and oatmeal these days instead of whatever it is you and The Rock eat for supper.» I said, «I understand. Twenty percent of zero is still zero.»
«Since you put it like that, yes. The decisions you make affect my income too – or lack thereof. I don't have any rich dead relatives.» He had a point, but … cartoon voice-overs?
I hated to disappoint him. I could hear how keen he was on this project. And I did have a responsibility to take jobs that would be good for both of us. I said reluctantly, «The thing is, what happens when the word gets around that a gay man is playing a teenage boy on a children's show?»
