Immortality Is the Suck (32 page)

lying on the floor and asked, “What happened to your roommate?”

“Last I heard he was somewhere on the streets of Los Angeles.”

He absorbed this without comment. We moved on, through a door that

had always been locked, to a wide lounge area. A blood cow… Christ, excuse

me, a
woman
lay there, a thermal blanket covering her and an EMT in

attendance. She was shaking violently with the cold, but alive, an IV dripping

liquid into her arm. Her skin so pale it was almost blue.

Well, we'd saved one of them, at least.

“There was a family,” I said to Peter. “Mother and father and two kids.”

“They were here in the back too. Multiple bite wounds, but alive.”

I felt the relief wash through me and had to sit down. A tossed ottoman

lay in a puddle of muddy water. I flipped it upright, thinking, as I sat, that I

was going to have the stain on my slacks forever. The ash doesn't wash out.

Maybe because it's evil. I don't know.

“You feel okay?” His hand on my back. Thumb lightly stroking the nape of

my neck. Peter had never been openly affectionate in public places, especially

surrounded by his peers, but he didn't seem to even care about the EMT

personnel or the smattering of officers stalking through the room.

Maybe it was the warmth of his hand, maybe the fact that I'd been sure I'd

never see him again. Maybe I'm just a horny old leatherneck and I'll never

change.

Immortality is the Suck

223

“Can we get out of here?”

224

A. M. Riley

Chapter Twenty-four

There's no excuse for what happened next. But there were
circumstances
,

as they say.

I followed Peter's Mustang to his house and went to park my bike where I

always did. But there was a fucking beach cruiser there.

“Peter! Some brat parked his bike in your yard.”

He came around from where he'd locked the Mustang in the garage. “Oh,

that's Jonathan's beach cruiser.”

A lime green, fat-assed kiddy trike,
with a handlebar basket
, was parked

in the spot reserved for my Harley. I mean, you understand, right? Because

Peter didn't.

“Don't start,” he said, and walked right past me to open the back door.

I didn't even wait for him to lock the back door.

“Mrmph,” he said, when my mouth covered his, door banging as I

slammed him against it, trying to feel every inch of him at once. “Adam,” he

gasped. “Stop.”

Of course I ignored him. His buckle came loose in my hands, then the

button at his waistband. The skin of his neck was salty and I could smell his

cinnamony blood up under his left earlobe.

His hands found mine and impeded me when I tried to pull down his

zipper. “Stop,” he said again.

“No,” I said, and stuck my tongue in his ear. He groaned; his hips moved

toward my hand, and I pushed down the zipper, feeling one of his hands sliding

up the back of my neck and into my hair.

Immortality is the Suck

225

“Adam,” he moaned. “Please…”

“God, yes,” and I dropped to my knees, drawing his thickening cock from

his boxers.

His hand covered himself, gasping for breath he said, “Adam. No. Stop.”

The blood I'd drunk after the fight was pounding in my ears, my chest, my

cock. I stared up at him, trying to understand what he was saying. He smelled

like musk and something clean, and of the earth, and blood…

“I need you,” I said.

“No you don't.” He zipped up his pants.

This was incredible. Beyond belief. It simply couldn't be happening. I rose

and grabbed him with both hands and stuck my tongue down his throat. He

responded. I could feel the groan, feel his tongue battling mine. I lifted him and

carried him in a half circle into the hallway where I pressed him against a wall

and humped myself against his stiff erection.

“You want me,” I whispered in his ear. “Tell me you want me.”

Before he could say anything, I covered his mouth with mine again. When

I pulled my mouth away, now, he surged up to meet me, his hands grabbing

my neck and turning my chin to give him greater access. I pulled off his slacks

and dumped him on his bed, legs spread in only white socks and the partially

opened dress shirt.

I don't remember pulling off my clothes.

I pressed the lube in and he opened up to me easily, almost sucking my

fingers in, fucking himself on my hand while I fumbled with the condom. My

cock felt like it would explode before I could even get myself inside him and

then I was lost in the sensation of pushing myself into Peter over and over and

over.

I came and then rocked on the afterswell of the orgasm for a while. When I

pulled out I could see that he hadn't come. He was still semierect, his balls

swollen.

226

A. M. Riley

I kissed the back of each thigh. “Roll over,” I said.

He rolled onto his side, facing away from me. “No. I'd rather you didn't.”

“You didn't come.”

“I don't want to.”

Okay, you're with me here, right? Because obviously Peter had lost his

mind.

“What do you mean, 'I don't want to'? Who doesn't want to come?”

So I pushed him over and swallowed him in one gulp. Well, he pushed at

my head a little but then he spread his legs and arched his hips and obviously

he'd come back to his senses because his cock swelled in my mouth and pretty

soon he was moaning and gasping and gripping my hair like the reins of a

horse while riding my mouth to orgasm.

I sat back feeling pretty damned pleased with myself. Peter looked

properly fucked. His body was pink and glowing, his heart still thumping hard,

his nipples little brown knots in the midst of his hairy chest. His eyes were

dark and narrow and shining and he yanked the sheets up over his lower body

and said, in a voice that sounded weird, “Leave me alone, Adam.”

Am I nuts or did that not make any sense?

“What?”

“Go. Watch the game or something. The news. I'll bet the bust is all over

Channel 4. Just leave me alone.”

“What?”

“Get out of my bedroom and shut the door behind you!” said Peter. He

didn't shout, Peter seldom shouts, but he had a shouting attitude. And then he

gathered up his sheet and rolled onto his side so that he was facing the wall.

“Okay.”

So I did what he asked. I found a beer in the refrigerator, I sat down on

the sofa and channel surfed until the “Special Bulletins” started showing up on

the news. Then I watched the sports recap and about twenty minutes into that,

Immortality is the Suck

227

Peter's door buzzed. Peter was still sulking, I guess, in his bedroom, so I

hopped up and said into the intercom, “Yeah?”

“Um, it's Jonathan. Is Peter there?”

I almost said no, but hey, I didn't, okay? I pressed the buzzer and when

Mr. Lime Green Beach Cruiser showed up I let him in the door. Then I went

back to my spot in front of the set with the remote.

“Peter's in bed,” I said.

Jonathan looked toward the bedroom door and then back at me. “Um,” he

said.

I flicked past a couple more channels. He was still looking at me. “What?”

I asked him.

“Um,” said Jonathan. Christ, for a college kid he didn't have much of a

vocabulary, did he? “It's really none of my business, but…”

Okay, I just have to say, when has anyone ever prefaced a statement with

“it's really none of my business, but” and then said something nice? I mean,

has it ever happened to you? No, I didn't think so.

“What?” I snarled.

The kid did a blinky thing like I had threatened him or something. Geez, if

he only knew.

“Um, I mean, seeing as we're both friends of Peter.”

“Really? How long have you and Peter been fucking? Or, sorry, I mean,

how long have you and Peter been
friends
?”

Now he understood where I was going; his jaw got a hard look to it. “A

month.”

“Wow, well that definitely puts you and me in the same position as regards

Peter. I've only known the guy for fifteen years.”

“And what does he have to show for it?” asked Jonathan. “Except a lonely

bed and a lot of heartache?”

228

A. M. Riley

I flicked off the set. “What did you say?”

I had to give the kid credit. Even not demonic, I outsized him by about

fifty pounds and a good four inches. But when I stood up and towered over

him, he planted his feet there and stretched out his skinny little neck, chin

thrust up, and said, “What kind of a life do you think Peter would have liked to

have? His sister and he are close. She's married, with a couple of kids. His

parents are still together. He still corresponds with his tenth-grade English

teacher. Would you expect a man like that to be living alone in a one-bedroom

condo at this point in his life?”

That set me back on my heels. I'd never thought about it.

“I never thought about it,” I said.

“Of course you didn't,” sneered Jonathan. “Peter deserves somebody to

come home to. Somebody to share his life with. Instead he has…”

“That's enough, Jonathan.” Peter stood in the entryway to the living room.

He'd thrown on that shabby flannel robe of his and stood bare-legged, one

white sock hanging a little too long in the toe.

Jonathan took it in in a glance. “I can't believe it,” he said. I swear to God,

the kid's lip actually trembled. “I can't believe you actually had sex with him

again.”

“It's not his fault,” I said without thinking. “He tried to stop me.”

This didn't seem to make it better. On the contrary, Jonathan's eyes

widened dramatically, his mouth dropped open, and he pointed like the

proverbial accuser at a witch trial. “You let him
force
you?”

Now you can do a lot to Peter, but he doesn't take well to humiliation. I

could have told Jonathan that, but he was in full melodramatic song by then

and could not be stopped. “Have you no self-respect?” he cried.

“Now, hang on a minute,” said Peter.

“It's like you welcome abuse!” said Jonathan.

Peter's eyes got that glint. “Jonathan…”

Immortality is the Suck

229

“Hey, this wasn't abuse. He enjoyed it,” I said.

Peter's gaze snapped to me, dark and dangerous. “Shut up, Adam.”

“Well, you did.”

“I didn't
want
to enjoy it,” said Peter to Jonathan.

“But you let him do it anyway. Oh my
God!
You let him
fuck
you, didn't

you?”

Peter was mad. I could tell by the way his mouth got small and tight. That

tension just below his eyes. “I really don't think that's any of your business.”

“Oh no? Because I think it is. You haven't allowed me to touch you like

that, have you? But this bastard shows up after weeks away God knows where

without a word—”

“Hey, only saving the city from bloodsucking—”

“Shut up,” they both said to me in unison.

“And you let him fuck you,” Jonathan finished. His high cheekbones were

flushed pink.

“Really?” I said to Peter. “You haven't let him…?”

“Shut
up
, Adam,” said Peter and Jonathan in unison.

Peter faced Jonathan with an expression that made homicide suspects

weep. “You think you've been cheated out of something?”

Say
no
, I mentally counseled Jonathan.

Stupid kid crossed his long bony arms across his chest. “Something like

that.”

Peter spoke, distinctly and slowly. “Maybe you just don't do it for me.” He

jabbed his thumb toward the door. “Out.”

Jonathan looked flummoxed for only a second. “Fine.” I swear to God he

flounced as he exited the room. “Call me when you decide to kick your

addiction, babe,” he called out, slamming the door behind himself.

230

A. M. Riley

I was left alone in the room with the remote in my hand and a very, very

angry Peter standing in his stocking feet with his arms crossed, glaring at me.

“You really didn't let him fuck you?” I couldn't help it. I wanted to bounce

and do a little dance.

“You know what, Adam, Jonathan was right. You're selfish. You are a

selfish son of a bitch. And I must
not
have any self-respect to let you keep

coming back here again and again.”

“You love me, Peter. You know you do.”

Okay, I knew better than to say that, but the stupid territorial hyena in

my soul was still doing that little dance.
Yay yay, Peter fucks only me…

His expression was as if I'd slapped him.

“Peter, I'm sorry. I'm… I don't know why I say these things…”

“Get out of here,” said Peter. “Get out of here, Adam, and this time, don't

come back.”

I heard him lock the door behind me.

Immortality is the Suck