L. A. Mischief (9 page)

David rubbed his hip, smoothing away the marks he had put in his skin. “Because we’re not compatible.”

Chris folded his arms around David’s broad shoulders. He nuzzled the skin above David’s heart. “This is so not compatible. We should have tried this earlier.”

A rumble of laughter rolled through David’s chest. “I thought we did.”

Chris grew serious. “Did we really try, though?”

“I thought we did,” David said softly. “Are you saying we didn’t?”

“I’m saying I don’t know.” He rose on one elbow and stared down at David. “Do you love me, David?”

David nodded. “Since the first time I told you.”

“Then why can’t we make it work?”

“I... I don’t know. Do you want to make it work?”

“I’m willing to try, if you are.” Chris stroked his thigh, feeling his muscles tense and relax. “I had a lot of fun bowling last week.”

“You want to do it again?”

“Yes.”

“No strings?”

“None, unless you count coming home to finish the night up here.”

“I think I can live with that.” David grinned against his throat. “Bowling and you.”

Chris played with the damp hair on David’s chest, tweaking one of his nipples. Gently he touched the scar. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Didn’t I just prove I am?”

“Not what I meant. You’re being careful, right?”

“Always. This guy just got the jump on me. Guess the same way he got the jump on his wife and boyfriend.”

Chris leaned up on one elbow. “I want to take care of you.”

David’s eyes darkened. “Would you? But I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.”

“I’m not?”

“No, you need me.”

“I do?” David’s breathing grew shorter. Chris didn’t need to look to see that he was getting aroused again. So was he.

“You do. You never could look after yourself.”

“Hey!” David tried to sit up but Chris held him in place. “I’ve been taking care of myself for years before I met you.”

“You were buried so far in the closet you reeked of eau de mothball. How many secret trips did you make to Palm Springs to find some twink to fuck—”

David winced at the crudity. But he held his silence.

“Is that the way you like it? Secret? So nobody down at the station knows you’re still fucking men?”

“Chris—”

“Who was that that guy in your hospital room? Someone you met at the Eagle?”

“How did you know about that—?”

“You tell me cops are gossips, well they’ve got nothing on bartenders. The bartender at the Eagle knows Ramsey.” Chris grimaced. “Enough said, right?”

“I don’t ask you what you’ve been doing since... since we were together.”

And Chris could hardly tell him. He suddenly felt hot shame. If David had found pleasure somewhere else, who was he to complain? But he couldn’t let it go.

“Who was he, David?”

“His name is Blair.”

Blair. Chris turned the name over in his mind. Something about it dogged Chris. He couldn’t let go of the image of David with that man. Blair.

Jealousy was wholly foreign to him. Even Geoff, the guy he’d lived with years ago, hadn’t inspired him to care about who he slept with. But David... he saw red every time he thought of David in bed with another man.

He hated that David had the power to raise his blood pressure to dangerous highs.

“Do you love him?”

“What? Who—no, it’s not like that.”

“Just a fuck buddy?”

“Why are you doing this, Chris?” David rolled over, staring up at the ceiling. “Do I want to know what you were doing for the last month?”

Chris closed his eyes, “No,” he whispered. “You don’t.”

“What do you want, Chris?”

“You know what I want.”

“Chris—”

“I want us to be a couple. I want you to be proud of me.”

“I am proud of you.”

“Then why don’t you take me to LAPD events? That charity picnic you were invited to. You went alone. Why?”

David wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You don’t know any of the guys.”

“I’m a pretty sociable guy, David. I clean up real good and I’ve been told people actually like being around me.”

“Chris—”

“But that’s not good enough, is it? All you can do is look at all of them and think they’re seeing you and me doing this...” He cupped David’s soft cock. “You can’t get past that, can you?”

“Jesus, Chris—”

“I want us to live together,” Chris said. This had always been the bone of contention between them. David liked the sex, but he couldn’t or wouldn’t commit to anything more permanent. It was like as long as he didn’t physically move his things from one address to another then he wasn’t living with another man. “I want to marry you.”

David was silent. Chris sighed. “David...”

“You know what I think about that. We’ve been through this already—”

“We’ve been over it again and again, but all we’re doing is running in circles.”

“That’s because you won’t accept that I’m not going to move in with you.” David briefly looked at Chris then looked away. “I’m not getting married.”

“You mean you’re not marrying a man.”

“I’m not marrying anyone.”

DAVID REFUSED TO meet Chris’s gaze. He didn’t want to see the naked longing in his ex-lover’s eyes. He couldn’t give Chris what he wanted. Chris had to realize that. For the good of both of them. It had been a huge mistake to bring Chris back here tonight. But he had to face the fact that he had his own addiction. Chris did things to him by just being in the room with him that no one, not even Blair, did.

But that was no excuse for forgetting his vow to let Chris go. But like a crack head, he couldn’t stay away from his drug. No amount of therapy was going to fix his problem. Only time, and distance, could do that.

Pushing Chris away was only the first of many hard steps.

Putting his thoughts into action, he rolled away from Chris’s touch and went into the bathroom. When he emerged twenty minutes later, Chris had crawled under the covers and was asleep. David thought briefly of waking him to take him home, but in the end his own exhaustion won the night and he crawled in beside Chris, who curled around him, clinging even in sleep. David drifted to sleep with Chris’s warm breath on his cheek.

He awoke during the night and found they were spooning, his hard cock pressed up against Chris’s ass. He nuzzled Chris’s neck and slipped back into an easy sleep.

When he woke next it was to find Chris stroking him, his hard cock in his hand. “Come for me, baby,” Chris whispered and David did, his hot come splashing over his hand and abdomen. “That’s the right way to start the day,” he said, and David nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice husky. He clamped his hand over Chris’s. “Let me do you.”

“In the shower,” said Chris, and David blinked.

“Shower?”

Chris nodded with a satisfied smile. “Yeah, shower. Then car.”

“Car?—Right, go test drive the car.”

Chris held David’s hand into the shower, only letting it go when they climbed in to the small shower stall together.

“This thing really isn’t made for two, you know.”

“I can suffer, if you can.” Chris crowded close, using a bar of soap to cover them both with slickness. David responded, forgetting his vow in the night to give Chris up. He kneaded Chris’s ass and stroked his cock, holding him against the wall and not letting up until Chris came, crying out and splashing the shower wall with come.

They stood together, breathing heavily as the water washed over them, finally turning cool. Chris turned off the faucets and led him out of the cubicle, using a towel to dry David first then himself. Back in the bedroom, David pulled out a pair of jeans and an LAPD T-shirt.

Chris looked at the bottom drawer of the dresser, remembering that David had gotten comfortable enough that he let Chris keep a change of clothes on hand. Chris reached for the drawer and pulled it open, rummaging among the contents.

“What are you doing?” David asked, a hint of alarm in his voice.

Chris replied, “Looking for my jeans. I don’t want to go buy a new car wearing a thousand dollar suit... puts me at a disadvantage for bargaining,” he added with a laugh.

“I returned your stuff, remember?” David said.

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” said Chris, remembering with a pang how final it had seemed at the time. He paused. “I see you found something to put in the drawer in place of my things...” He stood up, letting the leather and chrome harness dangle from his hand. “I didn’t know you were into this...” he said, his voice drifting off.

“It... it was a gift,” David replied, a slight flush creeping up his neck.

“From that guy I saw at the hospital?”

David nodded, not saying a word. Chris felt a roil of jealousy in his gut, but tried to keep his tone light. “I bet it looks hot on you,” he said.

David looked down. “I haven’t worn it yet,” he said. “I’m... uh... still recovering you know.”

Chris stuffed the gear back in the drawer, kicking it shut with his foot. “Yeah,” he said, picking up his suit pants and pulling them on quickly. “Listen, how about if we swing by my place so I can change, then I’ll buy you breakfast at that diner you like on Hyperion.”

“This test drive sounds like it is turning into an all day event,” said David, guarded.

“Just a half day,” said Chris. “C’mon, you promised.”

David paused, then reluctantly said okay. Chris felt his heart surge and David wondered if he was even capable of saying no to the man he loved.

Like David could refuse anything Chris asked.

After breakfast, they pulled into the lot of the Midway Ford on Vermont Avenue. A man who clearly knew Chris hurried over to them. “Back already?”

“I want to see the Escape again.” Chris glanced at David. “We’d like to take it out for a test drive.”

“I think you’ll be suitably impressed,” the salesman said with unctuous charm. They followed him into an office where he viewed Chris’s ID and picked up the keys to the model Chris had looked at earlier.

The Escape was a compact little SUV, half the size of Chris’s current set of wheels. Chris walked around it, popped the hood and peered inside. He looked over at David. “How’s it look to you?”

David peered into the engine block. “Six cylinder. That’s good. You’ll get good pickup on the freeway. What’s the torque?” he asked the salesman.

“Forty-three hundred rpm,” the salesman cut in. “Excellent gas mileage too, much better than any other SUV out there. Two hundred forty horses.”

“Manual?” David asked.

Chris shook his head with a weak grin. “I never learned. I’ll go with the automatic.”

David grimaced. “Better gas mileage with manual. I’ll teach you if you like. Taught a neighbor’s kid a couple of years ago.”

Chris brightened. “That would be great. How long do you think it would take to learn? That means you’ll be around a while, right?” There was a plaintive note to Chris’s question.

David flushed and realized he’d made a mistake making the offer. He tried to salvage the situation. “Uh, maybe you should get an automatic. Easier to handle with all the stopping and starting in city driving. Plus, it’s easier driving up hills, like around your place...”

“Nah, I want to learn. I’ll learn fast. I know it. I know you can teach me. Come on, David. It’ll be fun.” He turned to the salesman. “I’ll look at a manual if you don’t mind.”

The salesman looked from David to Chris. He nodded and reached for another key. “Follow me.”

Chris gestured to David to take the driver’s side. “You tell me what you think.” Then he climbed into the passenger’s seat.

They spun out onto Vermont and headed north toward the Hollywood Freeway where David opened the vehicle up. He kept to the speed limit until he goosed the gas to shoot around a panel van that was laboring in the right lane. He exited the freeway at Silver Lake Boulevard and headed back west. They passed the grandiose glass and stone clad entrance to the Vermont and Beverly Red Line Station. Instead of hooking a left onto Vermont, David kept on driving west. They cruised down Beverly.

“Well?” Chris asked after the third light. He had been carefully watching David drive, studying the way he smoothly shifted gears.

“I think it would suit you fine. But do you really think you can learn a stick?”

“I’ll learn. You know me, a fast learner.” Chris nodded. “But no bench seats,” he said, referring to the seats in David’s Chevy that allowed Chris to sit right beside David.

“I’m sure you’ll adapt,” David said dryly.

Chris sighed melodramatically. “I’m sure I will.” He leaned over and slid his hand between David’s legs, squeezing his basket. “But it won’t be the same.”

David swung around the block and within fifteen minutes they were back in the lot, being met by the obsequious salesman.

Chris jumped out of the vehicle and before David could move away, he grabbed his arm. “I’ll take it. Let’s start the paperwork, shall we?”

“Of course, sir. This way.”

They went through the whole song and dance, haggling over what Chris would get for his Lexus, what sort of deals they were willing to put on the table. David had never realized it, but Chris was in his element when he was haggling. He marveled at how this blond-haired pretty boy was actually a bargaining giant, who was rapidly leaving the salesman in the dust.

David leaned back, watching as Chris wrapped up the negotiations. “Financing, sir?” asked the salesman, trying to squeak one last bit of money out of the deal.

“I’ll talk to my bank,” said Chris. “They usually have better interest rates.”

The salesman nodded. “And when would you like to pick this up?”

“A week?”

He glanced at the calendar. “Next Thursday... that’s Thanksgiving—we won’t be open.”

Chris seemed surprised. “Thanksgiving already? Where does the time go...” He paused. “All right, how about the day before? Wednesday—late.”

Back in the SUV’s cab Chris rubbed his hands together and threw the vehicle in gear. “That calls for a drink. My treat.”

Before David could object, they were back out in traffic heading for Silver Lake. When he turned onto Santa Monica Boulevard David had a sinking feeling he knew where Chris was going. It was confirmed when Chris pulled up in front of the Eagle. He glanced at the dashboard clock. Two pm. Little chance anyone he knew would be around yet. Blair usually didn’t make an appearance until after six, unless he was working evenings and then it would be as late as midnight.