Desperate Enemies 3 Adam Carpenter (books like beach read .TXT) 📖

* * * *

That night, when all was quiet and even the moon was nowhere to be seen, Paolo Bautista returned to Eldon Court, the cul-de-sac feeling foreign to him. He parked his car, and rather than go inside to a home that would soon not be his, he ventured down the rocky bluff to the beach below. The night was cool, but Paolo was still warmed from another, more acrobatic sexual exchange with the elusive Troy Saunders, who seemed none the wiser of whom he'd fucked. So now, when Paolo sat down on the sand and felt the trails of waves touch his feet, he felt vitally alive. He could actually smile at all he'd accomplished today.

Just then his cell phone buzzed and he reached for it.

A text message.

“Have huge news. See you soon.”

That's all it said. But it was who had sent it that intrigued Paolo. Dane, Aaron's brother.

Paolo hoped it was good news, after all they'd been through they sure could use some. The idea of Aaron's brother returning to Wonderland, it filled him with sudden regret, wondering if he'd done the right thing today with Danvers, and then with Troy. He was tired of the duplicity, but even as he tried to convince himself he was done with it he'd only upped the ante. When the person you hugged, embraced, fucked, and then climaxed over had motives you could never see or guess, you had to suppose they thought the same thing. Was that was it was between Marc and Parker, between Paolo and all of his friends? We all wear masks, Paolo thought, hiding our true selves, and only when they came off did you know who was friend, who was enemy.

What next?

* * * *

[Back to Table of Contents]

Part Four

“Ex's and Oh's”

By Jeff Wilcox

* * * *

They clutched each other so tightly it hurt, but no mere physical discomfort could match their tortured emotions—one had just lost a sibling and the second, a significant other. Aaron's absence echoed through Paolo's heart, reverberating with a sting that punished him with sorrow and guilt. Dane, on the other hand, felt adrift, unsure of how to manage the anguish he was drowning in and afraid of the anger pushing up from deep inside.

“We can't let him win, you know. Converse has to pay!” Dane broke from Paolo, sensing his neighbor's reluctance. Dane shook him. “We've got to see this through. For Aaron.”

A sob escaped Paolo's throat. Dane was right. In Latino culture, familia was everything. Aaron wasn't just Dane's flesh and blood;he was Paolo's entire family. And here he had been willing to give Converse what he wanted and run away. Away from the home he and Aaron once shared. He burned with shame.

Paolo looked at Dane now with clearer eyes. His neighbor had changed. His eyes were hard and focused, yes. But there was something else. The way he carried himself was more confident. And wasn't his physique a little more filled out?

“Let me fill you in.” Dane described what he and Sawyer had been up to since the funeral. Sawyer wanted to buy a gun but Dane refused. “Look where that got Aaron.”

That's when Dylan DeMille, Dane's gay-for-pay video star offered to help. Turns out, there was more to the former college football player than met the eye, though his mountainous pectorals, 17-inch guns and rather impressive basket certainly demanded attention. What no one could see was his proficiency in MCMAP.

“MC Map? Is that a rap artist?”

The hunk sighed, “Marine Corp Martial Arts Program. My brother was in the service and taught me whenever he was home.”

“What belt was he?”

Dylan smiled. “No belts in MC MAP. There's kick ass or get killed.”

Dane stepped forward, eyes level with Dylan's. “Teach me how to kill Danvers Converse.”

The porn star shook his head. “No, I won't do that. Don't YOU do that.” Then he smiled conspiratorially. “But I can show you how to defend yourselves.” Dane nodded with determination.

And so, living out of a San Francisco hotel with a decent and often empty health facility, they trained every day for two weeks. Starting with the basics: strikes, throws,holds, and chokes. After each day, the boys would drag their aching bodies off to bed. The wake-up call always came too soon.

* * * *

“I tell you, Dylan may be an animal in bed, but he's definitely not someone to fuck with.” Paolo's eyebrows rose at Dane's statement.

Dane smiled as he remembered one morning when Dylan had left them to practice hip throws, an effective maneuver that uses an opponent's own momentum against him. Dane started toward Sawyer in an aggressive manner, just as he was supposed to. Sawyer grabbed his lover's wrist and stepped forward. But his footing was wrong. As a result, they both fell to the mat, Dane on top.

“That. . . could have gone better,” Sawyer muttered between heavy breaths.

“I don't know. Feels good to me.”

And it did. A warm, reassuring sensation enveloped his groin. Dane's cock thickened and pushed forward, nudging Sawyer's dick through the fabric of his sweats. Sawyer's body acted in kind. It had been almost two weeks since they had sex. Neither could control their body's reaction now and neither wanted to. Dane had pinned Sawyer's hands above his head.

“Surrender.”

“Only to you, baby. Only to you.”

Dane covered Sawyer's mouth with his own, pushing his tongue to wrestle with Sawyer's. The boys moaned contentedly. Wanting more, they fumbled to strip each other, at the same time, refusing to break the kiss. Sawyer's hands struggled with the drawstring of Dane's sweatpants, finally breaking the damn thing. Dane snorted in amusement as his lover pushed the fabric down with his foot, forcing the sweats off.

Freed of clothing, Dane traced his tongue along the side of Sawyer's neckline and then across his smooth chest. Sawyer released a gasp. His muscles tensed. Dane stopped at a nipple, licked it once, twice, and then gently bit down.

“Ahhhhhhh, son of a—”

Dane looked up at