Love Most Inconvenient Page 9

  “Okay,” Marco growled, “that’s it. You’re going to get it now.” Marco lifted him off of him and flipped him around, pulling him up on all fours.

  Paul laughed, shouting in protest. “Not fair!”

  Marco held him around the waist with strong arms, pulling him up against his solid chest while Paul tried to feign protest. They playfully wrestled a bit.

  “I think this might be rape,” Paul accused, letting his head loll back on Marco’s shoulder as he penetrated him with his hard cock.

  “Oh yeah?” He leaned down and kissed his mouth as he began to pump into him. “Doesn’t feel like rape to me. Feels more like…”

  “More like what?” Paul moaned as he fell forward on his hands and grunted, really feeling Marco’s need now, a need that was building steadily with his own. “Baby,” he called out. “Yes.”

  As Marco pumped his desire into him, Paul choked back tears. He’d never felt such pleasure, never felt such love, and that was what poured out of Marco as he came inside Paul, his hand wrapped around the other man’s cock.

  They fell together on the bed and Marco pulled him close. He kissed the top of his head and closed his eyes. “That was worth waiting for.”

  Paul smiled. “And how long before we’ll have to wait for it again?”

  Marco opened one eye. “That was coy,” he said with a smile.

  “So?” Paul probed.

  “Oh, about twenty minutes?”

  Paul howled with laughter and kissed his jaw. He took Marco’s hand in his and brought it to his lips. “I’ll be counting every second, my love. I never knew you were that good in bed.”

  “Um, and to think of all the time you wasted, my love, when there I was all along, on the radio.”

  “Closer than that.” Paul crawled on top of him. “You were right before my eyes.”

  The End

  My Name is Dane

  Chapter One

  When Frankie got this way, there was nothing anyone could do about it except let him rant. Mark held the receiver a few inches away from his ear, trying unsuccessfully to take an enraged cat out of a cage with the other hand. He gave up and concentrated on trying to calm his brother down.

  “Calm down?” he demanded, forcing Mark to increase the distance between the phone and his ear again. “How can I calm down? This is a crisis, Marco. Come home. We need you, and Papa has been having pains in his heart again. You’re the doctor in the family, maybe you could prescribe something, eh?”

  “Frankie, I’m not a doctor. How many times do I have to tell you? I’m a vet. I prescribe medicine for animals, not people. And stop calling me Marco. We’re not even Italian.”

  “We are on our great-grandmother’s side.”

  “We’re not Italian, Frankie.”

  “You got to come home, Marco. You know how I get. I get crazy when stuff like this happens. I gotta see this guy. I gotta make him—”

  “No, no,” Mark said. “Don’t do anything rash. Are you sure Julie is pregnant?”

  “Would I be on the phone calling you if she wasn’t? She’s crying her eyes out, poor kid.”

  “Let me talk to Dad.”

  “Dad doesn’t need to be involved in all this. You know what the judge said; he’s got to stay clean. You and me, we can handle this. We gotta talk some sense into this guy. He either steps up to the plate, or I kill him. I—”

  “Frankie. You’re not going to kill anyone. You’ve put all that behind you, remember?” He lowered his voice. “The family is legit now, in the construction business. And you can’t afford to get into trouble again either.”

  “Legit, legit. Yeah, yeah, I know. And this is all your fault, Mr. High and God Almighty.”

  “My fault?”

  “You’re the one who encouraged Julie to take that job at the restaurant.”

  “Oh, I knew you’d find some way to blame me for this. I didn’t know she was going to sleep with the manager.”

  “You said it would occupy her. It occupied her all right, and now I’m going to occupy him with my fist in his—”

  “Frankie, no.”

  Frankie was sputtering again. Mark could just picture him, his eyes wide and bulging, his hands turned into fists. “Look, I have to go. I’ll call you later, and don’t do anything until we discuss this.”

  Mark hung up before Frankie could say another word. He reeled back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. His sister was pregnant. Damn it. And the guy was denying all responsibility for it. He’d even fired her. Frankie wasn’t going to let this go.

  When Mark was old enough to realize how crazy his family really was, he was convinced these strange people had kidnapped him from his real parents. He had absolutely nothing in common with them. He didn’t look like them, he didn’t talk like them, and he sure as hell didn’t think like them. He used to lie awake at night and wonder, who were these people? When he finally admitted to himself that his father and brother were small-time gangsters connected to the local mafia, he was determined to do everything he could to distance himself from them. He tried to convince his parents to let him go to university in another country. His mother had cried for three weeks and called him an ungrateful son, his father kept looking at him and shaking his head, and his grandmother came over and slapped him. He went to university at home. He did, however, manage to open his veterinary practice on the other side of town.

  Most of the time he could just pretend to be someone other than Mark Merchant; he worked and played in Manhattan, and made an appearance at family dinners every third Sunday, where his mother would stuff him with food, and his father and older brother would talk about the “good old days,” days they seemed to forget landed his father behind bars for two years. His sister Julie, still living at home, always managed to drag herself to the table at the last minute, looking bored.

  “Why don’t you move out, get your own place?’ Mark had asked her a few weeks ago. “You’re eighteen now and still living at home.”

  “Can’t afford it,” she shot back. “I’m not a big-time doctor like you are.”

  “I’m not a doctor. I’m a vet. Go to college, do something with your life.”

  “Not school,” she moaned.

  Julie had always hated school.

  “Besides,” she said, “I like that new job waitressing.”

  Until now, Mark never realized the reason she liked it so much. Shit. She was humping the manager.

  Mark was worried. Frankie and his father needed to stay out of trouble, and Frankie was a hothead. If he thought any guy was disrespecting Julie, there would be hell to pay. Mark knew he didn’t have a choice. He had to go home and see if he could find a solution before things got out of control.

  He took care of his three o’clock appointment, a kitten who needed its boosters, then picked up the phone.

  His mother answered. “Bambino!”

  “Hello, Mom. Stop calling me a bambino. We’re not Italian.”

  “On your grandmother’s side,” she pointed out.

  He sighed. “Right.”

  “I’m missing my baby. I’m going to make you’re a special dish this Sunday. Bring a nice girl.”

  “Mom, I’m gay.” He’d told her that a hundred times already too.

  “It will pass,” she said.

  “Okay.” There was no point in arguing with her. “Don’t cook too much. I’m on a diet.”

  “Diet? You don’t need any diet. Oh, and your father is dying.”

  “Again?”

  “Don’t be smart. He’s got pains. I’m sure he’s dying.”

  “He’s had the same pains for five years, Mom. It’s indigestion.”

  “You need to check his heart.”

  “Mom I’m a vet. He needs a medical doctor.”

  “And the neighbor, Mrs. Jefferson, well, she’s got problems, in intimate parts. She told me the other day, and her husband, he can’t … you know, anymore.”

  “Oh God.” He put his face in his hands. “Mom, where’
s Frankie?”

  “He’s not come home from work yet. He works so hard on the construction site. He needs a girlfriend. Bring two girls with you. I’ll buy some wine. Your father got a new contract yesterday, a big one. We’re getting a pool.”

  “Good. And Mom, Frankie is thirty-five years old. I’m sure he doesn’t want me arranging his dates. Is Julie there?”

  “No. She’s looking for a job. She doesn’t have her job anymore. I don’t know what happened. She won’t tell me. You talk to her.”

  “I will. And don’t worry, she … uh … she’ll find something else. I’m taking a few days off. Tell Frankie I’m coming home tonight. Tell him not to do anything until I get there.”

  “What do you mean, not do anything until you get here? What’s he going to do? He’s not in trouble again, is he?”

  “No. Just tell him what I said, okay?”

  “Okay. I’m going to cook. Will you be here for supper?”

  “No. Don’t wait supper for me. Bye, Mom,” he said and hung up.

  * * * *

  “I don’t think this is a very good idea,” Mark told Frankie as they careened out of the driveway in his brother’s car.

  “Look, I didn’t ask you to come with me, so either shut up or get out of the car.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what you plan on doing.”

  “I’m going to find that bastard one way or another and teach him a lesson.”

  “If you get into trouble again, Frankie, they’ll lock you up this time. Look out,” Mark cried out suddenly.

  “What?” Frankie growled, screeching to a stop at the light.

  “I thought you were going to run right into the back of that truck.”

  “Do you think I’d risk putting one mark on this baby? And why are you in my car again?”

  “To keep you from doing something stupid.”

  “Get out.”

  “No. She’s my sister too, you know. Why in hell did she have to sleep with her boss anyway?”

  “I’m sure he seduced her. She’s just a baby.”

  “She’s a grown woman.”

  “She’s our sister. He’s a creep. He denied that he had anything to do with it, and he fired her.”

  “That was low,” Mark admitted.

  “Anyway, I don’t want you to feel guilty. It’s not your fault, even if you did tell her to work there.”

  “I don’t feel guilty at all.”

  “Poor kid, she was crying the other day. Did you talk to her?”

  “Briefly, but I didn’t get into it. She did tell me she was pregnant.”

  “She says she loves this creep. I should have never let her take that summer job waiting on tables in that stupid restaurant. You said it was the best thing for her in the world.”

  “When are you going to get it through that thick skull of yours that Julie is a grown woman? She doesn’t want to go to college. She has to do something. She can’t live at home forever. Mom will smother her.”

  “She’s my little sister.”

  Mark sighed. “What are you planning to do to this guy once you find him?”

  “Before or after I kick his ass?”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  “He’s going to do the right thing by Julie.”

  “That sounds very 1950s.”

  “You’re too young to know about these things.”

  “I’m not letting you go off half cocked. You’ll get yourself into deep shit. Have you met this guy before?”

  “His name is Christopher Hawkins. He’s tall, with dark hair to his shoulders, and he’s the manager of the place. How hard can it be? And don’t worry, I have a plan.”

  “You have a plan? Okay, I’m worried now.”

  “I know what I’m doing. If you’re not going to be of any help, go home.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, so drive.”

  Chapter Two

  Dane wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He had taken off his T-shirt and wrapped it around his waist, but that hadn’t helped him to cool off any. They’d been unloading these damn cases for over an hour, and he still hadn’t found anything he could use. The ex-con driving the truck was called Charlie, and he smelled like he’d never seen a bar of soap, and today, with this heat, the stench was almost unbearable. “Let’s take a break,” Dane suggested, “I need to get something to drink.”

  “Wimp,” Charlie yelled at him, spitting on the pavement. “I’ll take a smoke break then, but hurry it up.” He whipped out a cigarette and lit it, coughing and sputtering while he sucked on it.

  Dane pulled his long black hair back and tied it with an elastic band. He waved his hand in front of his nose to push the stink of Charlie’s homemade cigarette away and headed for the back door of the diner. What he’d been trying to do for some time now was look inside those crates they’d been loading into the garage, but Charlie was watching him like a hawk.

  “Get Hawkins,” Charlie called to him before he got inside, “bring him out here. Tell him we got what he wants, but it will cost him extra this time.”

  “Right.” Dane opened the back door. That was encouraging, but still, he had to see it before he could make his move. He was so close. He couldn’t wait to get off this case, away from Charlie, who was one of the most obnoxious creeps he’d ever met.

  He walked into the kitchen and instantly spotted an old guy cooking. The cook looked up in surprise. “Hey, you can’t come in here,” he said.

  “I’m looking for the boss. Have you seen him?”

  “Yeah. He’s in his office,” he told him. He pointed through to the restaurant. “Go through there and turn right. His office is next door. You got to wear your shirt in the restaurant.”

  “Thanks,” Dane said, and started to unwrap his shirt from around his waist.

  *

  Mark sat in the car outside the diner with his older brother for almost ten minutes before he was convinced Frankie had really heard him. “Just talk, Frankie, you promise? No rough stuff.”

  “Okay, okay, talk. Just talk.” He pointed at him. “Did you know that that bastard hung up on me last time I tried to reach him by phone? He just dismissed me like yesterday’s garbage.”

  “All right. Don’t go and get all worked up about it now. And, Frankie”—Mark grabbed his arm—“focus. If he doesn’t want to talk this time, we’ll just leave, okay? You can’t risk any trouble with the law.”

  “Yeah, yeah. You sound like a broken record. I know that. We’ll make him listen, little brother, don’t worry.”

  Mark threw Frankie a hesitant look and got out of the car in front of the Marina Diner. “Let me do the talking,” Mark insisted, walking into the restaurant with Frankie on his heels. The place was about half full. He scanned the room for anyone who might match the description of this Christopher Hawkins, but didn’t see anyone. They wandered over to the cash register where a waitress was making change for a customer and waited impatiently for a second or two. Finally, it was Frankie who interrupted. “We need to see the manager, Christopher Hawkins. Where is he?”

  She glanced at them, hooked her thumb over her shoulder, and returned her attention to the cash register.

  Mark began to walk past the register in the direction she’d pointed when suddenly his brother forged ahead and pushed open the door of the kitchen, hard. They both heard the crash and a groan.

  A man stumbled backwards.

  Mark gasped. “Oh God, are you…?”

  “There you are, you son of a bitch!” Frankie growled. “We want to talk to you.”

  The man dropped the T-shirt he was holding, and put his hand to his head. “Ow. Jesus Christ. What in the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Sorry,” Mark said. “We didn’t know you were in the way. Julie is our sister, and we need to talk to you.”

  “Get the hell out of my way,” the man demanded.

  “Now listen.” Frankie reached out for him and
took him by the arm. “I’m getting really tired of this brush-off. You’re going to listen if I have to—”

  “Frank,” Mark said, trying to pull him off, “there’s no need for—”

  “I’m warning you,” the man threatened. “Take your hands off me or I’ll knock your head off.”

  “Not until you ’fess up to what you did,” Frankie countered, taking a swing at him.

  The man swung back and hit Frankie square in the mouth. Mark tried to intervene. He didn’t see his brother frantically searching in his pocket. He pulled something out, and stabbed blindly at the man with it.

  “Frankie, wh-what is that?” Mark stammered.

  “Fuck,” the man swore, staggering back and grabbing his arm. “What in hell?” He moved back in their direction again, on the attack.

  Frankie doubled up his fist, and hit him hard on the head. The man in front of him fell forward, and Mark reached out and grabbed him before he hit the floor. The man mumbled something, groggily.

  Frankie lunged forward and hit the man again.

  Mark saw the glint of brass. “Shit, Frank, no.”

  Frankie grinned. “Brass knuckles. That put him down.”

  Mark’s eyes widened.

  An old man with a spatula in his hand was circling them now. “Hey, what are you doing there? You can’t do that in here.”

  “Ah, he’s sick,” Mark blurted out, his heart racing. He looked at his brother. He was holding the man up. “He’s in shock. He needs his medicine.”

  “He’s a doctor,” Frankie said, and this time Mark didn’t argue with him. “We’ll take him to the hospital.”

  Frankie urged Mark to drag the man in the direction of the back door.

  The cook followed them. “You hit him. I saw you.”

  “No. It was the door. He’s a diabetic. The doc here had to give him a shot. He’s gets crazy, doesn’t know what he’s doing, aggressive. We’ll take him to the hospital,” Frankie muttered. The man struggled some as they got him out the door, then stumbled drunkenly and went limp. Shit. He was a heavy bugger.

  “Someone call the police,” the cook yelled. “Call the police.”

  Mark and Frankie managed to get the man out the door. In the parking lot, there was a man standing beside a truck with rotten teeth. He was smoking a cigarette. “Hey,” he said, taking a few steps in their direction, “what’s going on? Where are you guys going with my driver?”