Cards on the Table - lanyon Josh - Страница 30

«Did you hurt that boy?» Casper's voice was quiet now, menacing, the muscles in his neck corded up. «No, Sir. I did not. You have my word.»

Casper put him down, kept his hands on his chest. Travis leaned back against the wall, shaking, as if he would keep sliding down, land on his ass without Casper's big hands holding him up. «That's all I need to hear. Your word is good with me, Marine.»

«Well, okay, that was interesting.» Susan put her fork down. She had a tiny smear of apple pie filling on her chin. «I'm gonna need something a bit more factual and a little less testosterone-fueled.» «Susan, don't be ridiculous. It's Travis.»

Susan turned to him. «Peter, I know Travis, too. And yes, I know he grew up here. But Travis was the last person who saw Jacob alive. Mike said he saw Travis run in from outside, hysterical and shouting that Jacob was dead. It appears Jacob got a phone call on the line upstairs that caused him to go outside. That phone up there is hooked into the intercom system. It could have been Travis calling from the front desk. And everyone in this town will tell you, and has been telling me, that Travis came back from Iraq and the Marine Corps screwed up and drinking like a fish. I just need to make sure, Peter.»

Peter shook his head. «Fine. But you're wasting your time. I believe you, Travis.» Casper slapped him on the chest. «I believe you, too.»

Sebastian stood up. «Kid, you want a piece of pie to go with your interrogation?»

«Sure.» Travis slumped in a chair. Sebastian poured him a glass of milk, and Peter cut a big hunk of pie.

«We're going to need more food,» Peter said. «People need to eat in a crisis.» He handed Travis the plate and went into the pantry to take inventory. * * * * *

It was after ten when Sebastian finally pulled him upstairs. Peter sat down on the side of the bed. His arms and legs felt heavy and numb. He let Sebastian pull his shoes off and the sweater over his head. «Come on, stay with me, Peter.» Sebastian unbuttoned his chambray shirt, tugged it off. «What?» «Stay with me, Peter. Stay with the program. Time for a shower.» Peter shook his head. «I'll just shower in the morning, Sebastian. I'm tired.»

«You'll sleep better after a shower. Come on, I'll help you.» Peter looked up at him, at his wild hair, the huge shoulders, that strength that almost looked like a threat. Sebastian put a rough hand against his face. His hands were always rough, nicked and callused, from taking care of the dogs or from throwing pottery. «Come on, hunny-bunny, let me help you.»

Maybe he needed help. Peter was exhausted, his thoughts scattering like dark confetti blown into a cold, pale sky. «Fine! Go ahead. Who's stopping you? I'm not…»

Sebastian jerked him up from the bed by both arms, folded him in toward his big chest and kissed him. «Hush now, baby. I'm here.» Uniquely, roughly, sweetly his own, Sebastian's kisses were a bit overpowering even to a strong man, and no one would have accused Peter of being a particularly strong man after the last couple of days.

In truth he felt a bit light-headed, so he let Sebastian hold him and cuddle him a little. But he was able to stay on his own two feet when Sebastian lifted his head, a minor victory, but one he would take.

«Shower,» Sebastian repeated. «Baby, I hate to see you so messed up over this. I don't know what to do for you.»

«Someone's got to mourn him, Sebastian. It wouldn't be right to just…let it go.» «Yeah, I got that. Come on, now.»

Sebastian pulled his clothes off and left them in a pile on the bedroom floor. He followed Peter into the bathroom. Peter stood there with the tile warm under his bare feet while Sebastian turned on the hot water and finished undressing him, then pulled him by the wrist into the big glass shower.

Peter had built this bathroom during one of the times he and Sebastian were living together. They had discovered the joys of each other's bodies slick with hot water and soap, and Peter had a shower built big enough for both of them.

And it was nice to lean back in Sebastian's arms, feel those rough hands lathering up, moving down across his chest, under his arms, down the length of his back, around to his belly, then down around his balls.

Sebastian had both arms around him, one hand slick with soap wrapped around his cock, the other deeper between his legs, his balls held in rough fingers. Peter bent his head forward, let the hot water roll across the back of his neck. Oh, that was good. He was weak enough to melt into a puddle on the tiles, but Sebastian wouldn't let him fall.

Sebastian pulled Peter's foreskin back, carefully soaped the head, dumped handfuls of warm water over Peter's cock to douse the soap.

«What are you doing? Forget it. I'm too tired to fool around.» He was half asleep already. His head was lolling back against Sebastian's chest.

«Just making sure my little Tootsie Pop is ready to taste,» and Sebastian pulled him back against his body so his rising cock was lodged against Peter's ass.

«Your little Tootsie Pop? Six months alone in a Yukon River fish camp. I'm the first ass you've come across, lucky me.» «Stop it.» «How was it, Sebastian?»

«It was lonely, Peter. I was lonely for you.» Both arms were tight around Peter's waist, and they swayed together, some quiet music Sebastian was humming in his ear. «I couldn't believe it when Susan called me. She said Peter had had a fling with some lovely young boy and now he was dead, there was trouble, and for a second I thought she meant you, that you were dead. I got so dizzy I almost passed out. Then she kept talking, how you were hurting, and I was thinking, No fucking way. Not my Peter. How could Peter fall in love with somebody else? Why didn't he tell me? Did he need me, and I wasn't there?» Peter could feel Sebastian's mouth moving down the back of his neck, palms splayed flat against his belly. «And then I thought maybe it was all just too much, too much and not enough, and you'd left me behind and moved on.»

«Too much and not enough. That sounds like us, all right. Why'd you come if you thought I had fallen in love with someone else?»

Sebastian lifted his head. «I wanted to help out. I thought you would be taking it hard if somebody was hurt here at the hotel. I wanted to help, but I wanted you, too. I thought I needed to come and remind you that you belong to me, Peter. Remind you that you don't have any fucking business touching any other man than me, not in this lifetime.» «I'm tired, Sebastian.»

Sebastian's arms tightened around Peter's waist, and he tugged him back against his broad chest. «How tired? I don't actually need you awake for this next part.»

Peter turned in his arms, but he kept his face hidden against Sebastian's chest. Sebastian stroked the wet hair out of his eyes. «It's okay, honey.» His voice was deeper than usual, almost tender. «I'll take care of you. But I'm not going away so you can lay in bed feeling miserable and alone. Are you feeling guilty? Do you feel like you would be betraying that boy?»

«I don't think so. I'm too numb to feel much of anything. Sebastian, do you mind having Jacob's cello in the bedroom?»

Sebastian shook his head. «No, I like it there. I'm not blaming him for falling for you, Peter. None of it was his fault, certainly not getting killed. That really pisses me off, that someone would murder your boy right here at the hotel.»

Peter stared up into his dark eyes. What was he thinking? Peter didn't know, and was surprised at how uneasy it made him feel. It had been a long time since he didn't know what was going through Sebastian's head. There was something complicated in Sebastian's eyes, something closed off and new. Sebastian was mad, but he wasn't mad at Jacob. So that left… «Did he play for you, Peter? He brought the cello up here to play for you?» «Yeah, he did.»