Chapter Twenty-four – Jack
Chapter Twenty-four
Jack
I pulled my car into Mark’s driveway at a quarter to one—or rather, I would have, if several well-suited men with radios in one hand and the other reaching for holstered guns hadn’t blocked me.
Then they got some sort of answer they agreed with from their radios and waved me through, one of them watching me, one of them back to staring out at the beyond.
I wheeled in slowly, and put my car into park, just as Paco came out.
“You’re early,” he said, expression unreadable.
“Usually being punctual is a good thing, right?”
“Not in this case,” he said, turning around for me to follow him in.
I always sort of knew that Mark had style. Being wealthy was no guarantee of it, I’d seen enough rich people make fools of themselves on the Strip over the years. But his house—his mansion—was tastefully appointed, the furniture welcoming but spare, the colors saturated but almost monochromatic.
“Done gawking?” Paco asked, leading me into a drawing room, complete with a billiard table, wet bar, and a fireplace. I bet this house had all the rooms on the Clue board.
“Almost,” I said, turning to smile at him. He did not smile in return. “Look, Paco….”
“I said don’t bother explaining in my text, didn’t I?”
“And since when do I ever listen to your good advice?” I walked around to be standing in front of him.
His eyes narrowed. “Not often enough.”
He seemed angry—he was always kind of angry, it went with his past and his profession, but this was beyond that. This time he was angry at me. “What’s this about, Paco?”
He stepped near and leaned in. “I never even get to visit your apartment, and then today I find you fucking some stranger on your couch?”
I sank back. “The cops kept me last night for as long as they could—the kid’s a neighbor, he caught me coming in this morning at sunrise. If he hadn’t dragged me into my apartment, you and Angela would’ve been visiting a pile of ashes in the parking lot.”
Paco’s anger shifted only slightly toward concern. “So he knows?”
“No. I kept it together until I got inside, and he’s not the nosy type.”
“But he is your type, though.”
“Everyone’s my type,” I said, flippantly.
“Apparently,” Paco said, just as flippant back.
That’s what it was. He was jealous of Zachary. “Paco,” I said, my voice going low.
He shrugged one shoulder, blowing me off. “I always knew it’d be a matter of time.”
“Until what?”
“Until you replaced me. One way or another.”
“Do you really think I’m like that?” I tilted my head at him. “I mean I know our shit is complicated, but is that who you think I am?”
“Jack, look at me. We started off the same age. But now I’m getting older than you….”
“I’m not ditching you for a younger model, trust me,” I said.
“But it’s never going to be like it was,” he went on. “I can’t go back.”
“And I don’t want to! I don’t want what we had—I want what we have.”
His dark eyes pierced me. “Just what is that, Jack? And in ten or twenty or forty years, what’s that going to be?”
I stared at him, the singular point of safety and sanity I’d had ever since I’d been turned.
“I’m sorry that we can’t be normal, Paco.
I wish to Christ we could. But I swear, whenever you wind up in a nursing home someday, all the attendants will think you have the most handsome great-grandson ever, and that when the door is closed if I can’t fuck you or suck you or jerk you off anymore, then I will climb in to your bed and just hold you tight till morning. ”
He was silent for a long time. “Fuck you, Jack.”
“I mean it, Paco.”
He swallowed. “I do too. Fuck you. For being a vampire.”
Instead of being a real man. “I know. But if I wasn’t, I never would’ve met you.”
A moment passed between us, the acknowledgement of the things we had, and things we’d never be, then Paco broke it with a sigh. “Your boss and my boss are upstairs again.”
“Again? For how long?”
“You tell me.” He walked over to the fireplace and put his hands out.
“How many cameras are in this room?”
His eyes flicked over, and he gestured to two corners, where they covered the door. But there was a hidden alcove by the pool cue display. I walked into it. “C’mere.”
He looked back at me and shook his head.
“I don’t think you heard me. Come. Here,” I said, and his feet walked him over.
“That’s not fair,” he complained. But we’d played these games before, and I knew he wasn’t frightened of me—especially when he reached up to take his ear piece out.
“Neither is this,” I said, falling to my knees, and reaching for his belt buckle.
“I’m on duty, Jack.”
“And I have ears like a bat. Like literally, like a bat,” I said, pushing his slacks and boxers down and pulling his cock out. I went for it, instantly, wrapping my lips around it, savoring the feeling of him growing hard as my mouth held him.
He wound his hand in my hair and pushed me back. “My professional reputation is on the line.”
“So’s mine,” I said, and went back in.
He fought for one second longer, and then fell back against the wall behind him to brace, jutting his hips out for me.
I held his shaft with one hand, his balls with the other, and then kissed the head of him like I might never get the chance to again, voraciously, running my tongue and lips around all of his soft edges, trying to make him feel what I did, that there was a reason we’d found each other—that we were meant to be.
I heard his breath speed up above, and his hand in my hair clawed in passion, as I alternated between taking him deep inside my throat, pressing myself against his belly, almost making myself gag, to pulling almost all the way off of him with my mouth while stroking with my hand, so that no part of him was ever left uncovered or untouched.
He groaned low. We’d done this a hundred—maybe a thousand times—and I’d never get tired of hearing that sound. I moaned my pleasure back at him and started, with my mouth and with my hands, begging for him to come.
Slowly Paco’s other hand crept forward to also hold my head, and then he took control, pulling me on and off of him, burying himself up to his hilt only rock me back and expose his shining shaft as he fucked my face, giving me all of him only to take it back, leaving me panting and wanting more—if this was penance for scaring him, I would gladly pay, again and again and again—I brought my tongue up to stroke the bottom of his cock, wrapped my lips so that each stroke was tight, closed my throat so that it grabbed him every time he bobbed. I knew him so well—I knew exactly when—
His fingers grabbed hold of my hair and he shoved forward fast and hard, sealing my mouth around his base as his hard hot cock bent down my throat inside me, and I looked up, watching him lose himself as I felt his body jerk and spasm as his cum poured out.
He was gasping quietly, his hips thrusting as he held my mouth tight, giving his load to me, until he sagged against the wall and one of his hands let go.
The life that Paco gave me was beautiful—it always would be.
I rocked back slowly, relishing releasing him, the sensitive shudders that my tongue could still cause, as I carefully licked up every drop.
And when his cock was flaccid in front of me, I kissed it gently then too, and set it back inside his shorts, helping him to pull his pants up.
His eyes were glazed, his focus distant, but he reached out a hand for me to hold my jaw and trace my lips with his thumb.
“Better?” I asked him.
“A little,” he answered, as I rocked up to standing.
“Good. ‘Cause I’m gonna get a lot of play at that nursing home.”
His hands paused on his belt buckle. “What?”
“I bet I could bleed a lot of people at a nursing home—everyone’s always expecting them to die.”
Paco closed his eyes and shook his head. “You’re sick, Jack.”
“And you love me because of it,” I said, kissing him. I heard a muffled scream of pleasure upstairs, and I went for the wet bar, to swish and spit and wash my hands.