Justin and Brian rode back in the jeep in relative silence, punctuated only by the occasional night bird piercing the darkness along the fairly isolated road leading up to their villa; two hands clasped together in comfort and reassurance were sufficient enough at the moment to convey the depths of their feelings for each other. As they neared their accommodations, Brian softly spoke up. "How are you doing over there?"
Justin smiled in the darkness and briefly squeezed the other man's hand. "I'm okay……I kind of like the quiet right now, though," he admitted.
Brian slowed the jeep down and stopped in front of the house; their quiet breathing was the only other sound heard except for the crashing of the waves on the rocks far below. "Yeah, I know what you mean," he answered quietly after a few seconds as they both listened to the peacefulness. "There's something about the ocean that's calming, isn't it?"
"Yeah. I like it. It's……soothing. At the risk of sounding like some lesbionic poet, sometimes I wish I could go to bed with the lullaby of the waves and wake up to it, too." In the moonlight shining through the windows, Brian could make out Justin smiling sheepishly at the sound of his sentimental statement.
"You know we could," Brian ventured.
"What?"
"Go to sleep with the ocean and wake up to it, too," he replied.
Justin frowned. "You mean…….move?"
Brian smiled, slightly tilting his head to look at the blond. "Yeah, exactly."
"You would do that for me?" Justin asked in awe.
"If that's what you wanted," he answered firmly without hesitation. "I like the ocean, too, you know."
Justin looked at Brian tenderly, touched by his concern and thoughtfulness. "That would be nice……maybe someday. But we just moved to our loft a little while ago, and I'm just now to the point where the studio is making a good profit. If it's okay, I'd like to stay where we are until I'm more established. Besides, Kinnetik is well-known in the Pitts now and you're poised to expand all over the East coast. I think it's important you stay where you're at for a while, too. Maybe someday in the near future we can think about that. I do love the ocean," he answered wistfully. He smiled, though, as he added, "In my role as a poet, though, I feel it's important that I point out that it's not where I'm at that makes me happy, it's who I'm with."
Brian briefly thought about making some sarcastic comment about Justin being a sentimental twat, but surprised even himself by choosing instead to just appreciate the statement for what it was. He smiled at Justin as the two leaned together of one accord to kiss.
After several seconds, Brian pulled back enough to whisper, "How about we continue this inside? This seems too much like two fucking high school kids making out in their car at the drive-in theater."
Justin chuckled. "Sounds like an excellent plan, Mr. Kinney." The two men opened the doors of the jeep and walked toward their villa, Brian instinctively reaching to grasp the other's hand as they walked to the entrance.
As they entered the luxury villa, Brian closed the door and gently grasped Justin's shoulders; the blond responded by turning around and placing his hands around the brunet's waist. "Brian," Justin murmured, as the older man tenderly stroked the blond's lower lush lip with his thumb before leaning down to replace his finger with his lips in a lingering kiss.
Thoughts of Justin's earlier trembling, frightened body reverberated through Brian's memories as his hands slowly caressed the slender frame. "Let's go outside to the pool," he suggested huskily. "I think it's time for a midnight swim, don't you?"
Justin smiled in agreement. As Brian gently tugged his arm to follow him outside, however, he felt Justin hesitate. "What?" he asked in concern.
"I just have to get something first," he reassured him.
Brian looked at him intently; he seemed to be okay, unlike how he was outside the club earlier. "What – you have to go get your swim trunks? I prefer your birthday suit, Sunshine," he teased, causing Justin inexplicably to blush a little.
"Brian," he chuckled. "No – not that. I'll be right out – I promise. You go on."
Brian gazed at him, trying to gauge his intention. Shrugging a little finally, he acquiesced. "Okay. But don't be bringing out those fucking flippers or your mask. That kind of kills the mood," he growled good naturedly.
Justin laughed now. "No snorkeling equipment. I'll be right there – go." He shooed Brian away as if he were a big fly. Frowning a little, Brian nonetheless walked out to the cabana, losing his clothing along the way until he had nothing on by the time he reached the heated pool. Sticking a toe in to test the temperature and finding it satisfactory, he dove elegantly into the water. As he emerged to stand in the pool, he could hear the soft strains of a jazz tune playing from the outside speakers inconspicuously tucked into artificial rocks surrounding the pool. After a few seconds, he could also see the flickers of several candles glowing from inside the villa. Smirking at little at the unabashedly romantic setting, he anxiously waited for Justin to come outside to join him. I'll give you one minute, Sunshine, then I'm coming in to DRAG you out here. He did not want his husband inside alone to fret about what had happened earlier and to rehash unpleasant memories; they were here to forge some new, entirely pleasurable ones.
He was just about to get out to do just that when he finally noticed the blond coming out, wearing the requested swimwear – nothing except a radiant smile. Brian's eyes raked appreciatively from the pale, blond head down to Justin's feet; no matter how many times he saw his lover naked, it always took his breath away. Since they had made love bareback, also, it had only served to heighten the anticipation of what was sure to come.
Brian whispered, "Just the right attire. Come here," he drawled softly in that way that made Justin's heart always beat rapidly. Justin moved slowly toward Brian, allowing the brunet to study him thoroughly through darkening hazel eyes. Brian noticed that Justin, however, was holding one arm behind his back. "What have you got there, Sunshine?" he asked suspiciously. "You didn't bring out that damn mask after I told you not to, did you?" he accused him.
Justin rolled his eyes in exasperation. "No, Mr. Kinney, I didn't bring out my mask. Hard to suck face with that, anyway, and I intend to do a lot of sucking in the next hour."
"Oh, you do, do you?" Brian replied in amusement. His eyes narrowed, however; Justin was definitely hiding something. "Then what have you got behind your back?" he asked pointedly. "Let's see it, Sunshine." He crooked his finger to urge the other man closer.
Justin slowly advanced toward the edge of the pool and sat down near Brian. "Come out and sit here next to me," he asked somewhat coyly as he patted the tiled surface.
"What are you up to, Mr. Taylor?" Brian asked him guardedly.
Justin smiled seductively. "Come out here and find out, Mr. Kinney," he encouraged softly.
Brian slowly ambled over in the water until he was gazing up at Justin. Intrigued, he was about to heft himself out of the water when he decided maybe a little water polo was in order.
"Brian!" Justin cried, as he felt water being splashed at him and he heard the other man actually giggle. "Not fair!" he scolded him. "You do that again and no surprise for you," he warned him, pursing his lips into an adorable pout.
Brian sighed; he could never resist that look. "Okay, I'll behave……for now," he promised as he finally lifted himself out of the pool slowly so as not to splash the blond any more. As he sat down next to the other man, he turned to him as held out his hand. "All right, Sunshine, I've held up my part of the bargain…..let's see what you're hiding behind your back now."
Justin smiled widely. "You'll have to work for it," he instructed teasingly, continuing to hold his hand behind his back.
Brian rolled his eyes in exasperation. "What makes you think I really care WHAT you've got?" he asked nonchalantly, just before he quickly reached out to tickle Justin by his waist as the blond erupted into fits of giggles. "Hand it over, and you won't get hurt," Brian warned him as he continued the torment. Justin frantically tried to escape unsuccessfully from the brunet's clutches as he struggled to hold his hand behind his back. "Okay, okay," he finally relented. "Stop," he panted, trying to regain his breath as Brian finally ceased his torture.
"Give it up," the brunet commanded, holding out his hand again. Justin smiled as he slowly swung his hand around to the front and placed a small, copper-colored satin box in Brian's hand.
"What is it?" he asked curiously as he looked at Justin's mysterious expression.
"Open it," Justin urged softly. He braced his hand on Brian's shoulder as he peered over to watch his husband open the box up.
"Justin," Brian murmured, as he opened the box to find a pewter and gold link bracelet nestled inside. The intricate carving of the two metals danced in the moonlight as the brunet gingerly picked it up to study it more closely. It wasn't a clunky bracelet, or a dainty one; it was just substantial enough to complement his lean wrist perfectly.
Justin studied Brian's expression, unable to determine his reaction as the other man remained silent, still examining the gift. "I know you don't wear your cowry bracelet anymore," he explained. "But I thought you might be willing to wear something else." He bit his lip a little anxiously as he waited for Brian to say something.
"It's amazing," Brian finally assured him, as he turned to smile at Justin, who beamed at him in relief. "But you didn't have to get me anything – I didn't expect you to." He looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable as he pointed out, "I didn't get you anything."
Justin looked at him incredulously. "Brian!" he admonished him. "You bought our beautiful rings and arranged for our wedding and this honeymoon……that's more than I ever needed or wanted. Although, it's all been absolutely wonderful," he admitted, as he leaned up to give the brunet a quick kiss. "I wanted to do this for you. Let me," he instructed the other man, as he gently took the bracelet from the other man's hand and draped it around the tanned wrist to snap the clasp in place.
Brian held it up to the light to admire it. As he did so, he noticed the design on the front looked different from the rest of the bracelet. "I've never seen a bracelet like this one," he observed, as he continued to look at the distinctive jewelry with the intricate, intertwining design.
"Yeah, it's one of a kind," Justin confirmed. "You remember Tony, the metal artisan who works a couple of doors down from my studio?" At Brian's affirmative nod, he continued, "He made it for me from a design I drew. He actually traded me the work in exchange for a painting I did for him."
Brian peered closely at the front of the bracelet, which displayed a design that looked like αγαπημένος.
"Is this a word on the front? It looks like it's in Greek." He had seen enough of the language on Mykonos by now to recognize some of the letters.
Justin appeared a little sheepish, as if he had been caught with his hands in the proverbial cookie jar. "Yeah, it IS Greek," he admitted. "I thought with our traveling to Mykonos, it was a logical choice. I figured if I put it in English, you probably wouldn't wear it. This way, unless you run into someone who speaks fluent Greek, it should just look like a design of some type."
"So just what does it say?" Brian asked curiously, as he continued to study the way the bracelet glinted in the overhead light. The bracelet was elegant as well as classy on his tanned wrist, he had to admit. He looked over at Justin, waiting for his answer, eyebrows raised.
Justin looked embarrassed as he softly admitted, "It spells LOVED," he advised softly, as he looked down, unsure of Brian's reaction. He received an answer when he felt a warm hand gently grasp his chin to turn his head toward the brunet, who was smiling tenderly at him, eyes shining brightly.
"It's beautiful," Brian reassured him, as Justin released a soft sigh of relief and smiled. "I'll treasure it," he vowed with surprising honesty. "I'll never take it off, even when we're fucking in the shower," he teased now, receiving a radiant, trademark smile in response. "In fact, we can test its water-soluble qualities right now in the pool," he growled huskily, as he wrapped his hands around Justin's waist and pulled him closer. Caressing the other man's back, he pressed the blond to him in a firm embrace as the two came together for a deep kiss. As they finally broke apart after several seconds, Brian suddenly gave the other man a playful push into the pool. Justin squealed as he was plunged below the water, but he soon felt two strong arms pulling him up to stand in the 5-foot depth of the infinity pool.
Brian looked over at Justin's sapphire eyes, which were absolutely sparkling with love. As he gently pushed wet, blond hair from the other man's eyes to tenderly tuck it around his earlobes, he licked his lips, his own lust-filled eyes a rich, dark brown color. "Your eyes match the color of the ocean." The ridiculously romantic thought escaped from his lips before he could prevent it from being said aloud. But the blinding smile he received in return was well worth the chance of being temporarily labeled a lesbionic queen. Well, might as well go all the way. "I love you, Justin Taylor," he crooned softly.
Justin's twinkling eyes shone even brighter as they filled with tears of joy for the unexpected and fairly rare verbal expression of emotion. "I love you too, Brian," he answered, before the two of them molded themselves tightly together for another smoldering kiss. "Now let's see how long we can hold our breath underwater while we fuck," he giggled.
"That won't take long, Sunshine," Brian chuckled, as he grabbed the other man's cock and heard the blond moan as a jolt of pleasure shot through him. "See? Too easy," he laughed, as the two of them slowly sunk under the surface to test their stamina.
Next Morning – Alleghany County Jail
Aiden Prescott glared as Greg Matthews entered the interrogation room. "You smug son of a bitch," he snarled. "You don't have anything on me."
"Quiet, Aiden," he was instantly warned by Ken Dumford, his attorney sitting by his side at the table. "I would caution you against saying anything at this point," he warned his client pointedly.
"I'd listen to the man," Greg urged him, as he pulled a seat to sit across from the pair. "But you're wrong, you know. I have more than enough for a jury to hand you down a life sentence…..with NO parole." He smiled at the two confidently, evoking a momentary expression of uncertainty from the otherwise cocky brother before the mask slipped back into place.
"You're bullshitting me," Prescott retorted defiantly. "You have nothing," he repeated, although this time he sounded a little less sure of himself.
Matthews wasn't smiling now; he looked deadly serious as he tilted his chair back and asked him, "What if I told you that we have you on audio and video providing instructions for a hit contract to be carried out on Wyatt Sinclair and Brian Kinney? And it's all on crystal-clear HD for the entire world – and a jury – to see," he advised smugly. He watched, satisfied, as Prescott's face paled noticeably and his eyes darted in concern at his attorney.
Prescott, however, still tried to deflect any possible incrimination. His voice faltered a little, however, as he shakily insisted, "I don't know what you're talking about."
Matthews was tired of playing games; this wasn't the big fish he was ultimately after. His eyes narrowed as he leaned toward the other man. "Look – let's cut to the chase here, shall we?" he advised the two men. "I have your little visit with Kingsley at the Belpre Hotel in full living color and sound. So I know all about your deal with your brother to find a hit man to take out both Sinclair and Kinney." Prescott covered his face in his hands and cringed as the prosecutor continued. "I have you dead to rights, Prescott," he stated flatly. He turned to Dumford as he continued, "Your client is looking at 35 years to life with NO parole, and from my standpoint, it's an open and shut case. Kingsley has agreed to testify against both Prescott brothers," he divulged. He knew the wiry detective was safely ensconced in a secret location and would be held there until the trial occurred to ensure he was adequately protected.
Playing his ace card now, Matthews advised, "I'm prepared to offer your client a deal."
Dumford looked over at his client, who refused to look anywhere but at his lap. He sighed wearily before responding, "Just what type of deal, Mr. Matthews?"
"Let me be straight here," he answered directly. "I am not offering your client immunity. He's in up to his eyeballs with this scheme. But I AM prepared to offer him a partially reduced sentence in exchange for a guilty plea and his testimony against his brother. At least with this deal, he could possibly be looking at parole after 25 years, instead of literally spending the rest of his life in jail." Prescott finally looked up at the prosecutor as he warned him, "Make no mistake about it, Prescott. You WILL be convicted as the evidence now stands. And if you don't agree to this deal, I WILL see that you spend the rest of your life in a jail cell." He steepled his fingers together as he asked pointedly, "So what's it going to be, gentlemen?" He waited expectantly for an answer as he stared at both men.
Dumford shook his head in frustration; his client had conveniently neglected to confide in him about his meeting with Kingsley and had protested he was being railroaded somehow; now he knew that was not the case at all. He client was in serious trouble. He sighed wearily as he asked Matthews, "May I have some private time with my client for a few minutes?"
Matthews smiled. "Of course," he responded agreeably. "I'll be back in ten minutes," he advised, as he stood up to leave. Gotcha.
As Matthews closed the door behind him, he walked up to Carl Horvath, who was peering into the interrogation room's one-way mirror. "He's running scared, Greg," Carl observed with a little smile of satisfaction. "I think someone's about to turn redcoat on his brother."
Matthews chuckled. "Yeah, it's amazing what the threat of a little video and audio evidence can do to a person's loyalties. If he's a smart boy, he'll take the deal. Otherwise, the only way he AND his brother will come out of jail time is in a pine box."
"But you still think his testimony is essential to ensuring his brother is convicted on the attempted murder charges?" Horvath queried.
"Yeah, I really do," Matthews answered firmly. "Right now, all we have is the tape showing that Kingsley and Lane Prescott met together at the jail. It's Kingsley's word against Lane Prescott's what was actually discussed."
"But you have Prescott's own brother discussing Lane's involvement in the hit contracts all on tape when he met with Kingsley," Carl insisted. "Isn't that enough?"
"Maybe," Matthews conceded. "But it would still all boil down to one Prescott brother's word against another. Who's to say that Aiden wasn't making up the part that Lane had actually initiated the deal, so he could deflect the blame away from himself? And before you say it, yes, Kingsley is prepared to testify against Lane Prescott, also, but I don't want there being any chance that the S.O.B. can get away with this somehow. I want his conviction to be absolutely ironclad," he stated vehemently.
"That goes without saying," Carl agreed. "My girlfriend's chomping at the bit to know what happened at the hotel the other day. She knows it's privileged information until the trial, but she also knows it has to do with two boys she thinks about as her sons. If that man somehow gets off, she, along with a lot of other people, are going to be outraged."
"I know…..I'll be one of them. And I'm sure Justin and Brian will feel the same way as well. Not to mention Justin won't ever be totally safe until that man has no possibility of ever getting out."
As both men looked into the interrogation room, they noted that Prescott did not look happy at all. Dumford was doing the majority of the talking and he appeared to be sternly lecturing the other man. "It appears Prescott isn't very satisfied with his attorney's advice," Matthews observed. "I take that as a good sign, actually." Nodding at Horvath, he stated, "I think their time's up. Wish me luck."
"You know it," Carl responded, as he watched Matthews reenter the interrogation room.
"Well, Gentlemen, what's it going to be?" Matthews pressed Prescott and his attorney as he sat back down and looked at them pointedly.
Prescott sighed, defeated, as Dumford confirmed, "My client will agree to your terms, Mr. Matthews."