gently. The blood lust had receded from him, leaving him with a longing to simply hold Chris, to caress the smooth skin under his hands and to make love to him all through the night.
BOUND IN BLOOD
J. P. Bowie
53
Chapter Six
Frank Sanders couldn’t forget the humiliation that had been heaped on him and his friends the night before. It had been bad enough the first time when the kid had sprayed that goddamn pepper in his eyes. That had hurt like hell for hours. Just as well he’d managed to get away before the cops had shown up.
Well, he was going to get those faggots if it was the last thing he ever did. No way was a pair of pansies going to get away with beating him at his own game— no fucking way ! And what the hell had Billy been ranting about? The idiot yelling that the big guy was some kind of monster with sharp teeth. What a dickhead. Frank hadn’t seen any sharp teeth. All he’d seen was the big guy kicking the crap out of five of his buddies, guys he’d always considered tough—until last night.
Well, he sure as hell couldn’t rely on them anymore on account of two of them had concussion, one a broken collarbone, and they weren’t exactly thrilled at the way things had gone down. He just wished he could remember exactly what had happened at the end. Try as might, the last few seconds of the fight were a blur. He remembered a gunshot—two in fact.
The first one he could have sworn hit the big guy right in the chest, but there had been no blood so he couldn’t have been hit, right? The second shot had hit the kid. He was sure of that—or was he? If he’d been hit, how had he gotten away? How had they both gotten away?
Damn, but he just couldn’t remember.
“Fuck it,” he snarled under his breath. He was going to have to think up some other way of getting at those fags. Chances were the big guy couldn’t be with the kid all the time.
They had to work, didn’t they? And he knew where the kid worked. All he had to do was make sure that huge security guy didn’t see him. He’d recognise him for sure—Frank’s red hair was a little hard to miss. Well, he’d think of something, and when he did, both those cocksuckers were going to pay—big time!
BOUND IN BLOOD
J. P. Bowie
54
Chris did a happy dance after he put down the phone. The mechanic at the service station had called to say his car was finally ready for him to pick up. Yeah! Now he didn’t have to worry about getting to and from the club at night, even if Carlos wasn’t around to escort him up the alley—although he had already decided that wasn’t going to happen again.
He’d told Carlos next time—a cab. Only now, it would be his own car, and besides, he just had five more nights to work there.
“Which reminds me,” he muttered. He had to remember to ask around if anyone wanted the job. Maybe Joey? But he really didn’t want his friend working in that dump, and maybe running into that red-haired jerk and his friends.
Man, you’d think after Carlos had beaten the shit out of them — twice — they’d give it up !
He smiled as he thought of Carlos and how wonderful their night together had been. It all seemed to just get better and better. Even the trauma in the alley couldn’t get in the way of their lovemaking. As scared to death as he’d been when he’d seen one of those guys carried a gun, all of it, and them, was forgotten when Carlos held him in his arms and kissed him with such incredible passion.
And last night had been different somehow. After Carlos had recovered from whatever had brought about his fear of hurting Chris—how could too much passion have hurt him?—
it had been wonderful, but different , in a way he couldn’t quite fathom, almost as if he himself had been different. The physical side of their lovemaking had been spectacular every time.
Carlos was a consummate lover, passionate, yet tender, demanding, yet giving, and always infinitely loving. Chris had never known anyone
BOUND IN BLOOD
J. P. Bowie
53
Chapter Six
Frank Sanders couldn’t forget the humiliation that had been heaped on him and his friends the night before. It had been bad enough the first time when the kid had sprayed that goddamn pepper in his eyes. That had hurt like hell for hours. Just as well he’d managed to get away before the cops had shown up.
Well, he was going to get those faggots if it was the last thing he ever did. No way was a pair of pansies going to get away with beating him at his own game— no fucking way ! And what the hell had Billy been ranting about? The idiot yelling that the big guy was some kind of monster with sharp teeth. What a dickhead. Frank hadn’t seen any sharp teeth. All he’d seen was the big guy kicking the crap out of five of his buddies, guys he’d always considered tough—until last night.
Well, he sure as hell couldn’t rely on them anymore on account of two of them had concussion, one a broken collarbone, and they weren’t exactly thrilled at the way things had gone down. He just wished he could remember exactly what had happened at the end. Try as might, the last few seconds of the fight were a blur. He remembered a gunshot—two in fact.
The first one he could have sworn hit the big guy right in the chest, but there had been no blood so he couldn’t have been hit, right? The second shot had hit the kid. He was sure of that—or was he? If he’d been hit, how had he gotten away? How had they both gotten away?
Damn, but he just couldn’t remember.
“Fuck it,” he snarled under his breath. He was going to have to think up some other way of getting at those fags. Chances were the big guy couldn’t be with the kid all the time.
They had to work, didn’t they? And he knew where the kid worked. All he had to do was make sure that huge security guy didn’t see him. He’d recognise him for sure—Frank’s red hair was a little hard to miss. Well, he’d think of something, and when he did, both those cocksuckers were going to pay—big time!
BOUND IN BLOOD
J. P. Bowie
54
Chris did a happy dance after he put down the phone. The mechanic at the service station had called to say his car was finally ready for him to pick up. Yeah! Now he didn’t have to worry about getting to and from the club at night, even if Carlos wasn’t around to escort him up the alley—although he had already decided that wasn’t going to happen again.
He’d told Carlos next time—a cab. Only now, it would be his own car, and besides, he just had five more nights to work there.
“Which reminds me,” he muttered. He had to remember to ask around if anyone wanted the job. Maybe Joey? But he really didn’t want his friend working in that dump, and maybe running into that red-haired jerk and his friends.
Man, you’d think after Carlos had beaten the shit out of them — twice — they’d give it up !
He smiled as he thought of Carlos and how wonderful their night together had been. It all seemed to just get better and better. Even the trauma in the alley couldn’t get in the way of their lovemaking. As scared to death as he’d been when he’d seen one of those guys carried a gun, all of it, and them, was forgotten when Carlos held him in his arms and kissed him with such incredible passion.
And last night had been different somehow. After Carlos had recovered from whatever had brought about his fear of hurting Chris—how could too much passion have hurt him?—
it had been wonderful, but different , in a way he couldn’t quite fathom, almost as if he himself had been different. The physical side of their lovemaking had been spectacular every time.
Carlos was a consummate lover, passionate, yet tender, demanding, yet giving, and always infinitely loving. Chris had never known anyone
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