Placing Out (10 page)

"I don't go around pretending to be something I'm not."

"Sure you do," Dylan said. "You play being a tough cop so people fear you. But that's not you."

Ben thought of the things he'd done recently. "How do you know that? Maybe I am the bastard everyone thinks I am."

"Who's everyone? I can tell you don't like doing what you do."

"Sure you can. Hell, even I don't know what I am anymore."

"That tough guy is just a face you show everyone. We all do it. Showing our real face can get you hurt. Especially in this town." Dylan looked down at his hands still on the wheel. "That's why the ones you love can hurt you more than strangers. They know the real you."

"That's all very profound. But it's just a bunch of words."

"You got enemies, Ben?"

Taken back by the abrupt change in subject, he answered carefully. "Sure, I'm a copper, course I have enemies. Everybody I put in jail hates my guts."

"I think you're wrong. Most of them know they did wrong. They probably hate getting pinched and sure as hell they hate the stupid laws that turned half the country into criminals. But they don't hate you."

Ben wasn't going to get into a discussion on the laws he had to enforce. He knew where that would go.

"And it turns people like you and me into something we aren't."

"You think what we do is okay?"

"Tell me why it isn't?"

"It ain't natural."

"Says who? I spent almost eight years living on a farm. I saw more than one dog climb on top of another. Guess someone forgot to tell mother nature it ain't natural."

"Maybe they do it, but it doesn't mean we should."

"Give me one good reason."

"It's illegal."

"So's spitting in the street. Lot of silly laws on the book. That's just one of them."

"And I'm sworn to uphold those
silly
laws."

"Oh, give me a break," Dylan snapped. "You sampled pretty freely on my whiskey. Don't try to tell me you and your buddies don't go out and throw back a few after a good day of busting heads. Everyone knows the mayor's got half the LAPD in his pocket. Never mind Crawford."

Ben closed his eyes. The guy was right and he knew it. He focused his gaze on Dylan's face, seeing again how unearthly beautiful he was. "Didn't we come here to catch a movie?"

"Sure did." He threw his door open and climbed out. Ben followed.

Ben had been to a few movies over the years. He still couldn't get over the opulence of some of the movie palaces. And the Orpheum was right up there. Gilded and primped like a New Orleans madam, everywhere he looked it was gold. Wall sconces threw soft light over the carved wood and gold flock wallpaper and marble columns. Dylan led them to seats in the fourth row. The air filled with the enticing odor of fresh popcorn from the vendor outside. Perfume from the glittering ladies with their tuxedoed escorts. Once he had settled in beside Dylan, he followed Ben's roving gaze.

"Something, isn't it? You know the history behind it?"

"Didn't know there was one. They only built it a few years ago. Not much time to grow a history."

"I mean the name. It's very romantic."

Ben waited a heartbeat, then sighed. "Okay, enlighten me."

"Orpheus was the son of Apollo and Calliope. You know who they are, don't you?"

"Gods? At least Apollo was. So I guess Calliope had to be, too."

"Right, gods. All of them. Well, Orpheus married Eurydice--guess she was the most beautiful goddess. Some other god wanted her, too, and she got killed. He went all the way to hell to try to get her back. Now I ask you, what kind of guy goes into hell for the person he loves."

"Not too many."

"Would you?"

Ben half turned in the seat to look at him. Things tore through his mind. Parents, family, people he loved. Who had he really loved? Dylan kept looking at him expectantly. "Yes, I think I would."

Dylan smiled. He handed his bag of popcorn to him. Ben dipped into it, savoring the buttery puffs. Realizing he hadn't brought anything to wipe his hands with, he surreptitiously licked the butter off his fingers. Until Dylan shoved a handkerchief at him.

"Thanks," he managed around a mouthful of popcorn. The lights dimmed and the newsreel came on. A speech from Hoover telling them everything was good. They were on the road back to recovery and prosperity. Nothing could keep the American spirit down.

The screen went dark. Ben reached for another handful of popcorn and Dylan grabbed his hand and held it down in his lap. Ben's first response was to jerk away, but he didn't want to make a scene. Instead, he leaned over and hissed in his ear.

"I thought we came here for the movie. Not hanky-panky."

Dylan's white grin could be seen in the light from the screen. "Of course. Popcorn?" He held the bag out again. "Maybe we can go out and get some real food after this."

The movie was as enjoyable as Dylan had claimed. Ben hadn't noticed how good-looking the lead actor, Novarro, was before this. The hot tempered Tony got his girl in the end, of course. The guy could sing, too, as he proved during the interlude. And just like Dylan said, Arledge wasn't hard to look at either.

When it was finished the two men hung back, waiting for the crowd to clear out. Only when there were a few stragglers left did the two make their way back to the street.

"So, Coles then?"

"What?" Ben came out of a gray fog. "Coles?"

"Real food. Remember?"

Ben glanced at his watch. "Not sure that's a good idea--"

"Why not, everybody needs food. When do you work again?"

For a minute he almost didn't answer Dylan. He knew what would happen if he did. Then he thought about what would happen and he got hard. He remembered Dylan talking about how what they did wasn't wrong.

"Two days." At the car he stopped before climbing in. He met Dylan's gaze over the roof. "Let's go eat."

After feasting on beef dip Dylan turned the car toward his place. Ben tensed, then forced himself to relax. He'd wanted this, hadn't he? If he was honest he'd wanted it all along.

The climb up to the second floor was both the longest and the shortest walk Ben had ever taken. Only when Dylan fumbled with the door key did Ben realize he was just as nervous. He took the keys from the younger man's trembling grip, slotted the key in the lock and pushed the door open. Dylan slipped past him and turned on a light. The room smelled stuffy after the scented air in the theater. Even when Dylan opened the one window nothing but stale city air flowed in.

Ben stood inside the door while Dylan moved around the room with a grace that was almost ethereal. Ben stopped him on one of his rounds.

"Why aren't you an actor or a dancer?" He raised his hand and stroked Dylan's cheek. "You're good enough. You have the looks."

"Not really," he said, smiling and covering Ben's hand with his own. "Hollywood right now wants the Novarros. Or big butch guys like Gary Cooper or John Gilbert. Or you," he whispered.

Ben drew Dylan into his embrace, hip to hip and chests pressed together. He could hear the hammering of Dylan's heart. Their mouths met and a bolt of raw desire slammed through Ben. One of them groaned. Ben pulled off the other man's suspenders and fumbled with his belt.

Dylan pushed him away. His eyes were glazed when they met Ben's.

"Not like this. I want you to make love to me for real."

Ben stripped me. There was nothing quick about his movements. As each piece of clothing came off, Ben would lick my skin or suck it, sending exquisite pleasure along my already raw nerve endings. About all I could do was hang on.

By the time he exposed my cock, I don't think I've ever been so hard. I swear the swollen, leaking bulb almost touched my navel. His fingers rarely touched me. But when he abruptly left me and stepped away, I reached for him.

"Ben," I moaned. "Oh, God, please... "

"I'm overdressed, don't you think?"

The fire that was in his eyes probably matched mine. Boldly I stepped up to him and with the same torturous slowness exposed and kissed every inch of bare skin. We were both panting by the time he was naked.

Kneeling down on one leg on the bed, my mouth was level with his fat, thick cock waving in my face. A single drop of translucent fluid leaked out of the glistening head. I wasn't allowed more than a lick before he gently pushed me down on the bed. He came with me, his arms stiff on either side of my head while he studied my face. When he stooped down to kiss me, I opened my mouth.

His first touch on my lips was butterfly soft. I might have even dreamed it. A single, deep breath later his tongue was down my throat and his hands held my head in a vise grip. His knee rode up between my legs and pressed on my cock. His dick was trapped between us against my hip.

I ran the fingers of both hands down his bare back, coming to rest on his tight butt. We rocked together, tongue exploring my mouth, tangling with mine. I couldn't breathe, I don't know if it was me or his weight on top of me. I didn't care.

When he kneed my legs apart, I reached for the petroleum jelly. He took it and pried it open with his teeth. Then he squeezed some on his left hand. His first finger went up my ass I whined and tried to get it in deeper.

But he was in charge now and what I wanted was only going to come in his time. He planted his mouth back on mine and stopped my moans. Drawing his finger out of my ass, he wrapped a fist around my swollen prick. His greased hand slipped up and down, but before I could come he left my cock and this time shoved two fingers into me. He rolled off, fingers still inside.

Now I was able to reach between us and capture him. I stroked him as best I could, using his own pre-cum to slick him up. I wanted him inside me. I stroked faster, humping my hips up to get him in deeper.

Finally, when I was on the verge of screaming, he withdrew his fingers from me and pulled my legs open, then slid between them. His cock nudged at my ass, slipping inside inch by exquisite inch. It took forever, but at last his dick was buried in me to the hilt.

We both stopped moving. Ben rose back up on his elbows and stared down at me. "You're something, aren't you?"

"For you, yes."

As though no longer able to look at me, he buried his face against my throat. His lips and teeth played with the skin there. He nipped and rocked his hips, slowly at first, building tempo until we were slamming together, mindless in our lust.

I panted, trying to wrap my legs around his shoulders. He grunted and drove himself into me one more time, filling me with cum at the same time I exploded. He collapsed on top of me and I welcomed him into my arms.

We lay together, ignoring the sticky mess between us. I didn't mind. Looping one leg around his, I stroked his damp back. "Can you stay awhile?"

He hesitated and I held my breath. I thought for sure he was going to say no, but after a few seconds of strained silence he nodded.

We dozed after that, only to awaken in the early hours of the next day and make love again. It was my dream come true. A man who had no one to go home to.

We both woke up a couple of hours later. I gave him my shaving gear and he showered first, and while he dressed I did the same. Back in my room I could see he was getting restless. He didn't want to stay here, but I also knew he wouldn't want to walk around downtown Los Angeles together and we certainly couldn't go to any of the speakeasies.

Before his caged tiger act got to the point he charged out the door and I'd never see him again, I thought fast.

"You're off today, right? That's what you said last night."

He stopped pacing and faced me. His eyes raked over me and I shivered under the intensity. He didn't look angry. He looked expectant.

"Let's take my car out. We can drive up the coast."

"Go to the beach?"

"Not the beach? I keep hearing Santa Barbara's beautiful." I sat on my unmade bed and he came over to stand in front of me. I looked up at him. "Have you ever been?"

"No."

"Then let's go. It's a beautiful day."

"How can you tell?" Ben glanced at the closed curtains that only let in shallow streamers of light. I grinned and shrugged, a lot more interested in what he decided.

I could see him thinking. The fact that he was willing to do that made me hopeful. When he sat beside me a second later, I smiled again.

"Yes?"

"Sure. I've always wanted to see Santa Barbara. I've heard it's been rebuilt since the quake."

I stood. "Earthquake? There was an earthquake? When?"

"Few years ago. You weren't around, I guess. It was a pretty big one."

"They ever have them here?" Earthquake? I had no idea what something like that would be like.

"Sure." He stood. "We've had some shakes here. It's like something big stomps on the ground. Things shake a little bit. No big deal."

"Oh, good." I took his arm. "If we do, you can protect me, right?"

Ben laughed, something I'd never heard before. I loved the sound of it. "I don't think anyone can do that."

"Oh, well, I still feel safer."

He slung his arm around me and kissed the top of my head. "Let's go grab some breakfast."

After breakfast in the drug store we climbed into my jalopy. It rattled and shook but the old girl did what she always does and fired up. It backfired a couple of times and I grinned over at Ben, who hung on to the open window as though he thought the flivver might disintegrate under him.

"She's temperamental."

"I can tell. So what do you call her?"

"Call her?"

"You seem like the kind of guy who gives his things names."

I opened my mouth to protest, then shook my head and laughed. "Greta."

"As in Garbo? I'm sure she'd be impressed."

Heat flooded my face and from the look of amusement on Ben's face I was blushing.

"Come on," he said. "Let's see if Greta can get us where we want to go."

Santa Barbara, March 10, 1933

Santa Barbara was as pretty as the travel posters said it was. I was glad Ben agreed to come with me. I glanced over at him while I drove. Greta handled easy once she got on the road. She was just cranky in the morning, like I got sometimes after a too late night or a too rough client.