New York City – the next day
Sylvia Broadwell was used to a constantly-evolving variety of business associates coming in and out of her boss' office; however, the three men striding toward her with a distinctly formal air was a new experience for her, mainly because she noticed, puzzled, that two of them were wearing policeman uniforms.
"May I help you?" she found herself asking somewhat nervously; after all, it wasn't every day police officers walked into Prescott Enterprises' corporate offices.
As one of the uniformed men flipped open a slim, black leather cardholder, she noticed a shiny, brass badge nestled inside, along with an officially-looking ID. The tallest and broadest of the three men announced, "I'm Detective Kenilworth of the New York City 14th Police District." Nodding to the other two men next to him, he added, "These are my associates, Detective Ramsey and Detective Horvath. We're here to see Aiden Prescott," he advised seriously.
Sylvia was normally a formidable person to be reckoned with; she had been working for the Prescott brothers for over 10 years now, having worked her way up from the ranks of the secretarial pool. Anyone who wanted to get to either Prescott brother knew they had to go through her first. But something told her at that moment that this was not going to be an ordinary day, and these men were not here on some type of charity drive. Swallowing a little before replying, she hesitated whether to have them wait to be announced before showing them to the executive office suite. She was spared solving the dilemma when the man who introduced himself as Detective Kenilworth spoke again. "Ms….uh?"
"Broadwell," the woman supplied, peering up at them from her desk.
"Ms. Broadwell. We need to see Aiden Prescott now. I trust you will not deter us any further?" he asked professionally; no need to strong arm this woman unless absolutely necessary, but the three men were NOT leaving until they found who they were looking for.
Sylvia bit her lower lip, trying to decide what to do. These were policemen after all, and despite her tough exterior on the outside, she was always taught to respect the law; one could get into a lot of trouble if they didn't. Making up her mind now, she stood and lightly tried to undo the creases that had appeared on her skirt before advising, "If you gentlemen will please follow me, I'll take you to see him."
Kenilworth nodded satisfactorily to his two colleagues as they followed the assistant down a long, thick-carpeted hallway ringed with several offices until she came to a solid mahogany door at the end. Rapping on the door a few times, she waited a few seconds until she heard a familiar, authoritative voice instructing her to enter before she turned the handle and opened it.
"Yes?" the three men heard an authoritative voice that to Carl sounded eerily like another one he had heard before and had hoped to never hear again.
Uncharacteristically tense, the assistant pushed the door open and announced to her boss, "These men are here to see you, sir." Aiden Prescott looked up as the men entered and gulped as he instantly recognized the police uniforms.
He tried to hide his distinct unease as he stood up to greet them, plastering on a fake smile. "Gentlemen? What can I do for you? Coffee?" He started to advise Sylvia to take their orders before he was interrupted by Carl, who, due to his familiarity with the case, had been appointed the spokesmen for the trio.
"This isn't a social call," he advised promptly, unable to keep the distaste out of his voice. He did not have any sympathy or politeness for someone as disgusting as this man – or his brother, for that matter.
Sylvia watched from the doorway, transfixed, as Prescott's attempt at insincere cordiality instantly evaporated and his smile disappeared to be replaced with a look resembling a sneer. He stood defiantly facing the others, not even offering the other men a chair, as he growled, "Well, why we don't just cut to the chase, then? What the fuck do you want?"
If that's the way you want to play it, you son of a bitch, so be it. "Aiden Prescott, we have an warrant for your arrest."
The other man sputtered, indignant, as he protested incredulously. "For what?!"
"For the attempted murder of Wyatt Sinclair and Brian Kinney." Turning to one of the other men, Carl instructed Kenilworth, "Read the man his rights," before he reached in his pocket and pulled out a pair of silver handcuffs.
"You're out of your fucking mind!" Prescott countered. "I want my attorney!" he demanded.
"Fine – you can see him at the police station," Carl retorted, as he none-too-gently reached for the man's hands and wrapped them around his back, deftly clicking the handcuffs into place before grasping one of Prescott's arms. "Read the man his rights," he repeated to the other detective, as Kenilworth began to recite the litany: "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you….."
Sylvia remained standing by the door, shocked. Just when she thought things were hopefully getting back to some semblance of normalcy after Lane's trial and conviction, this happens. Attempted murder? As she wondered what in the world had happened, she barely had time to dodge the group leaving her boss' office as he called out over her shoulder, "Call my fucking attorney and have him meet me at the police station. Now!" he barked. She managed a small nod in acknowledgement as other co-workers came out of their offices to see what the commotion was all about. Their looks of astonishment mirrored hers as the current head of Prescott Sportswear was led down the hallway and out the door in handcuffs.
Same Day, Mid-Morning – Mykonos
Brian lay on the plush chaise lounge out on the veranda, eyes peering out through his sunglasses at the crystal clear, foamy waters of the Aegean Sea far below as he sipped his icy drink. He and Justin had now been on Mykonos for three days, and so far, despite the fact that it would sound lesbionic if he said it out loud, even he had to admit it had been glorious. It was wonderful being far away from the events surrounding the recent trial and all the unpleasant publicity it had engendered. And it had been great to be able to rely on his loyal employees at Kinnetik to keep things running smoothly while he was gone. But the most incredible part of all was having a certain blond by his side day and night and all to himself. That could never be surpassed by anything else, except maybe for the wonder of growing more and more deeply in love with his sexy husband by the hour.
He laughed as the subject of his thoughts appeared at his side; Justin was wearing a sky-blue, skin-tight swim brief that left nothing to the imagination. It actually matched the one that Brian was currently wearing, except his was white, and Justin was wearing some additional accessories: a snorkeling mask covering his beautiful face, and a pair of rubber flippers on his feet. Despite Justin's ridiculous fashion statement, however, Brian realized both of them were wearing something else identical: the same smiles and hard-ons.
Evidently Justin made the same observation, as his eyes appreciatively swept down the other man's lean, toned, and tanned body before he took off his mask and veered from his initial target of the adjacent chaise lounge to sit down on Brian's thighs, instead, to straddle and face the brunet. He leaned down to plant his lips on Brian's as the older man kissed him back eagerly; he took time briefly to place his drink down on the small glass table next to him before he reached both arms to rest at the blond's waist to steady him.
"Fuck, Brian!" Justin cried out.
"That's what I had in mind," Brian murmured as he smiled against the other man's lips. "That is, if you'll take those fucking dorky swim fins off first." Fortunately, Justin had at least placed his feet on the ground to either side of Brian; otherwise, the fins would have most likely been in Brian's face at the moment.
"No, that's not what I meant," Justin chuckled, pushing back a little to break Brian's hold on him. "Your hand is like ice!" he said, pushing the offending limb from his waist. Brian felt Justin shiver a little at the unexpected chill against his exposed skin, which was still pale despite their time on the island; Justin's light skin burned so easily that he always had to use sun block.
"Well, you'd better just warm it up, then, Sunshine," he drawled, pulling back slightly to look at the blond and smiling tenderly. Justin couldn't help briefly recalling another time in the past when they had had this same kind of conversation. He internally breathed a sigh of relief that this time things were different; he knew Brian wouldn't turn down his attempts to do just that. He reached out and pulled the cool hand to his mouth and sucked on a couple of the long fingers, hearing a small moan of pleasure in return. He took his time slowly, as his hot, moist mouth thoroughly worshipped the other man's offering with his tongue and lips. As he grasped Brian's hand in his, his lips slowly drew the fingers in and out of his mouth in an obvious mimicking of another activity the two of them had engaged in a couple of hours earlier in the huge, walk-in glass shower stall inside their villa.
Brian moaned louder, and Justin felt the brunet's cock grow even harder as he continued to lubricant the willing digits.
"Fuck, Justin!" Brian cried out; how this man could get him so turned on in just a few seconds of horseplay never ceased to amaze him.
Justin simply laughed with a type of evil smirk on his face as he finally released his hold on Brian's hand, which promptly returned to his original position at the blond's waist; Justin noticed this time, however, that the hand was considerably warmer as well as wetter.
"I hate to say it, Sunshine, but the fins kind of kill the moment for me," he teased, even though he knew Justin could see – and feel – that that was obviously NOT the case. "Why in the fuck are you wearing those, anyway? We went snorkeling yesterday, remember?"
"You never know when some shark may approach for an attack," he answered, grinning. "Might need to ward off an assault."
"I'll show you an assault," Brian growled, as he used his leverage to pull Justin against his body as he heard a giggle emerge from his chest. Instead of the expectant nuzzling of his neck, roaming hands all over his body, and wriggling of the man's cock against his, however, Justin instead was "treated" to two busy hands furiously tickling him at just the spot around his waist that set him off into a serious round of giggles. "Brian!" he managed to cry out in between bouts of laughter. "No fair!"
As he heard his husband laugh out loud, Justin's heart surged. It was so good to simply hear Brian laugh; moments when Brian felt comfortable enough to respond verbally in that wonderful, playful way he had were few and far between, and were, therefore, always treasured by Justin. He loved to hear Brian laugh this way, because he knew the brunet was letting his guard down and was secure enough with him to do it. He heard Brian finally stop laughing enough to demand, "Remove the fucking flippers and you won't get hurt."
"Okay, okay," Justin laughed, as Brian grinned and stopped his torture, but kept his hands firmly planted on the blond's waist as he now caressed the same flesh he had just been tormenting. Justin used the other man's secure hold on him to reach down and remove the swim fins one by one, receiving another moan of pleasure as his cock accidentally rubbed up against Brian's as he did so.
"You little slut," Brian drawled as his hands unintentionally dug into Justin's side in response. "You did that on purpose," he accused him.
"Moi?" Justin answered innocently.
"YES," Brian retorted. "And now you will have to pay…….with your ass," he growled.
"Promises, promises….." He squirmed on the other man's lap, receiving another moan in return before licking his lips and smiling.
"Okay, Sunshine, if that's the way you want to play it…..You DID see Jaws, didn't you?" he asked. "Shark alert! Everybody out of the water!"
Justin squealed in delight as Brian suddenly stood up with him still in his arms; as Brian leaned down to plant a passionate kiss on his lips, he obediently wrapped his legs tightly around the brunet's waist and his arms around the other man's neck before Brian walked them back into the villa and into their king-sized bed for some more snorkeling, this time, thankfully though, without the mask and fins.
Same day – early evening
"So what do you want to do tonight, Sunshine?" Brian drew an imaginary map on the blond's chest as they snuggled in bed after another boisterous round of lovemaking, Justin's soft, golden hair tickling him as it rested on his shoulder.
"Oh!" Justin suddenly exclaimed. "That reminds me – I almost forgot to show you something."
"No, you didn't, Sunshine – believe me, I've seen it ALL by now," he teased.
Justin smacked him lightly on the chest. "Not THAT, you moron." Brian groaned a little as the little package of warmth removed itself briefly from his side to lean over and pick up a brochure that had been placed on the nightstand; in the interim, at least, he got to appreciate his husband's delightful backside.
"You are NOT going to believe this – I was looking at this brochure we got in that travel folder from the rental agency, and there's a list of gay dance clubs. Guess what one of them is called?"
"Adonis? Aphrodite's? Gay Boy's Dream?" Brian queried.
"No, you dork! BABYLON! Do you believe it??? Brian, we HAVE to check it out – it's calling OUT to us!" he exclaimed.
Brian rolled his eyes. "Just what I wanted to do – travel thousands of miles from the Pitts and its one-of-a-kind dance club called Babylon to dance at a one-of-a-kind dance club in Mykonos named, of all things, Babylon. Duh, hello – is anyone home?" Brian asked, as he rapped lightly on Justin's skull, receiving a shake of the blond head and another smack on his chest in response. "Did it not occur to you that maybe the cart came before the horse and they named our club after THIS one?"
Justin smirked. "No, Brian, that never would have occurred to me," he stated, sticking out his tongue. "Come on, though - it opens in an hour. Let's go find something to eat and then go check it out!" Justin plastered on his puppy-dog, sad, blue-eyed look that he knew Brian couldn't resist – at least normally. He was heartened to find out he was correct once again as he saw Brian's face first register disdain, then finally a tender, albeit patronizing smile.
He shook his head slightly, lips twisting in amusement. "Okay, Sunshine…..go get dressed in your sluttiest dance clothes and we'll trip the light fantastic." As Justin practically bounded out of bed with triumphant glee, Brian bit back a laugh as he warned, "Just remember – they can window shop but they CAN'T touch," before he, too, rose a little more slowly from the bed than Justin and turned to the closet to search for something appropriate to wear.