PART SEVEN

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

The words sent a wave of apprehension through Paulie, his stomach felt queasy and his heart sank. Although he had known all along that he'd have to offer Grant some type of explanation, he found himself fearful that his own words would break the unexpected spell they seemed to be weaving, like a cocoon, between them. From the moment he'd climbed into Moretti's car, the detective had seemed like a different man. There was no contempt in his wide, sapphire eyes. No agitation cutting visible lines in his honey-toned face. Curiosity, yes. But there was no sign of the anger that had sparked between them on previous occasions. Grant seemed...almost compassionate.

If Paulie hadn't been so drained, he'd have gasped out loud with surprise, when the detective reached out and voluntarily touched him -- had gently rolled up the sleeves of the oversized shirt Paulie had thrown on, more for Grant's sake than for the sake of modesty, when he stepped out of the shower. Paulie wasn't accustomed to such small, intimate acts of kindness. It'd been so long...too long...since anyone had looked at him as more than just an object. The change in behavior made him slightly uncomfortable. At the same time, the soft tickle of Moretti's fingertips, rushing over his wrists and forearms, made something inside Paulie ache. He blinked nervously and wet his lips once more, slowly trailing his eyes down from Grant's sculptured features to his broad shoulders; paying particular attention to the way the detective's thin, cotton shirt pulled tight across his chest. Unable to resist moving lower, Paulie stared hungrily at Grant's lean waist and narrow hips, then slid his gaze over to where the man's cock nestled between his thighs. When he realized what he'd been doing, Paulie blushed and glanced down at his own lap, where his hands laid dly. He cleared his throat, keeping his eyes averted as he spoke, "you might wanna sit down."

Grant did as he suggested, sinking into the chair directly across the table from Paulie. He paused, as if momentarily lost in thought. "It's that bad?"

Unable to help himself, Paulie snorted sarcastically and shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "I don't know, Moretti. Depends on how you look at it, I guess." He stole a fleeting glance, trying to gauge Grant's reaction. The man didn't look pissed, not yet. Just a bit tense and concerned.

"Okay..." Moretti sighed, as if he too felt defeated, then leaned in, his elbows on the table, knuckles tucked beneath his chin, "go ahead and tell me everything. You might as well."

"I'm not...I'm not who you think I am, Grant." Paulie cupped the coffee mug sitting before him, then lifted it to his lips to sip at the warm fluid, "I might be a fucking sleaze now, but it wasn't always this way. My father...he's a Somebody. My family's very well off. Thing is, I fucked up. I left school when I was sixteen. Figured it was best to just...disappear and spare the asshole the embarrassment."

"I'm not following you, Paulie. What do you mean, you fucked up? What did you do? What kind of embarrassment?" Grant's brow furrowed, his eyes searching Paulie's face. He assumed the man was looking for some indication that he was lying. But he wasn't. And it was painful. Too painful to dredge up all the details.

"Moretti, my father is a Congressman. I'm fucking GAY. The moron sent me to this god-awful military school, so that I could learn to be a MAN. Hrmpf. The only thing the place taught me, was how to hold still on a bench while a room full of guys tag-teamed my ass." Scowling, Paulie's eyes flitted around the room in a desperate attempt to prevent the hot tears, stinging his eyes, from spilling down over his cheeks. He would not cry. Not over the far past. He just couldn't be that pathetic.

"Your father is a Congressman? Are you bullshitting me? Seriously, Paulie, I want the fucking truth. If you can't give me at least that much, I think you'd better..."

"FUCK! Aren't you listening? Do you think this is easy for me to talk about? I've never confided this to anyone before. NO ONE." Frustrated, Paulie stood up and kicked the kitchen chair away angrily, then turned back to the table and leaned across, pointing one long, slim finger in Grant's face as he shouted, voice cracking with overwhelming emotion. "I'm trying to explain why I lost it tonight. Why I ended up in this shitty predicament. Believe me, I'm not thrilled about having to ask for help. Especially not from some fucking Pig."

His jaw set, chest heaving and eyes wild, Paulie remained rooted in place, waiting for Grant to pounce him. Instead, the man stood hesitantly and approached. "Don't. Just...don't... Come on and sit back down. I want to understand, really I do."

Moretti was standing close, maybe too close, as he placed one hand on Paulie's shoulder, and used the other to push a long damp clump of hair back from Paulie's battered face. His heart fluttered in his chest, the detective's soothing touch slowly dissolving his anger. How could he remain pissed off, with Grant's hands on him? Making his skin tingle and breath quicken? Their bodies just inches apart, almost brushing together. Paulie could smell him - the woodsy scent of Moretti's cologne filled his nostrils. Intoxicating Paulie, turning his legs to Jell-O. God, he wanted to bury his face against that neck, nuzzle against Grant's skin. Feel it. Taste it. But for the first time, he was too afraid. Moretti was looking down at him, holding his gaze, and it scared him. The strange mix of emotions swirling around inside him, at even this slight bit of contact, was unnerving. And he didn't want Grant to think sex was all he wanted -- though Paulie knew he certainly wanted THAT. The rest was elusive. He didn't know what the hell he was looking for. Couldn't decipher what he was feeling.

"Grant?" Just one hug, Paulie thought, closing the distance between them, until his scant torso was pressing against the detective's, face burrowing into the crook of Moretti's neck. When he realized that the other man wasn't going to force him away, Paulie relaxed and let his body go limp -- let Grant hold him up with the muscular arms, that had wrapped themselves eagerly around his waist. Ohgod. It felt so fucking good...to be held... Paulie raked his fingers through the deep gold hair at the back of Moretti's head, allowing the short, silken waves to slip through them with a sigh. His swollen lips so tantalizingly near to Grant's skin, he could barely resist the urge to let his tongue wander out and explore its texture. Yet somehow, Paulie managed to refrain. Knowing better than to push Moretti past his limits. The tight embrace was enough of a risk for one night.

When Grant nudged one leg between his thighs, Paulie almost groaned outloud. It was more than he'd dared to expect. As if finally given the "okay" to touch, Paulie parted his lips and darted his tongue over Grant's neck. Lightly at first, savoring the bitterness of Moretti's cologne, before drawing the delicate flesh between his teeth. Biting and sucking. Then opening wider, lapping his way sloppily up the detective's neck, as the man slipped his hands inside Paulie's unbuttoned shirt, running his palms over Paulie's skin, smoothing them lower until they rested at the small of Paulie's back, fingers dipping beneath the waist of his low-slung jeans shorts.

"Ohfuck, please...don't stop, Grant. Don't stop," Paulie reached behind him and grasped Moretti's leg directly above the knee, urging the detective to raise his thigh higher, until it was crushing against his balls. Still arching back, clutching at Grant's leg through the pants he wore, Paulie began to grind. Slowly, shamelessly, eyes locked on Moretti's, mouth slightly ajar as he mashed his hard dick against the detective's hipbone. Rubbing his balls against the man's sinewy thigh as he rocked his hips forward. Their faces mere centimeters apart, breath coming fast and hot against one another's skin.

"Do you wanna kiss me?" Paulie whispered hoarsely, pressing his forehead against Grant's, still clasping the back of his neck.

"God, I think so..." His hands snaked easily down the back of Paulie's shorts, palms tacky and warm as they began to knead ruggedly at his ass cheeks.

The sound that escaped Paulie's throat in response, was something between a whimper and a yelp. He wanted the detective, more than he'd ever wanted anyone. Even more than he'd wanted Cody. It'd been years, since he'd actually found sex enjoyable. The act was associated more with providing a service, than it was with recreation. It could be a tool. A weapon. But seldom was it done just for the sake of pleasure. It was something he was required to DO, not LIKE. "Kiss me, then. Kiss me so hard I feel it in my cock."

And that's exactly what Grant did. He covered Paulie's sore, puffy lips with his mouth and lunged his tongue inside. His need obvious -- matching Paulie's own. He barely felt the smarting. Only the slick, probing heat of Grant's tongue, the feel and taste of his saliva, existed. Paulie didn't have to reach down his shorts to know that his dick was smeared in pre cum. Already, he could feel the warmth oozing from his pee slit, feel the prominent veins pulsing along with the heavy beat of his heart.

Paulie released his hold on Grant's leg, taking a moment to steady himself. Never breaking their kiss, he cupped and fondled the detective's balls through the fabric of his trousers. Moving backward, Paulie dragged Grant along with him, until his own thighs were pressed against the edge of the kitchen table. Jesus, Moretti was engorged -- rock hard. Knowing how bad the cop wanted to fuck him, sent a jolt of pleasure through Paulie's stomach to his cock, causing it to jerk violently against his belly. Moaning against Grant's open mouth, Paulie fumbled with the detective's zipper, sucking Moretti's tongue between his fat lips. Drawing it in and out, as if it were a big, thick dick as he reached down into the front of Grant's pants and guided his cock out. Paulie's fingers encircled the moist, stiff shaft, pumping slowly as he slurped on the man's tongue. Would Moretti want that? Wanna fuck his mouth? Or would he want more? Paulie didn't care either way. He was more than ready to give the detective everything and anything he wanted.

Breathless, Paulie pulled away, tossing his freshly shampooed mane over his shoulder. "I'm not pretending."

"Good...good...Paulie...don't pretend," Grant devoured his mouth again, dark blue eyes heady with lust, as he knocked Paulie backwards, laying him out flat on the hard, wooden table top. His hands shook as he pulled the jeans down over Paulie's spare hips, without even unsnapping them.

"Christ...you didn't lie, did you? You have a great dick," Grant eyed him hungrily, trailing his fingertips along Paulie's lower abdomen, watching him squirm and twinge.

"Touch it? Show me that you want it, Grant. I need to know." Panting with a desire pent up too long, Paulie grabbed again for Moretti's hair. Tugging at the detective's head until his lips were finally dancing over Paulie's bare stomach. Tongue trailing back and forth, across the hollow between his jutting hipbones.

"Fuck. Grant. I'm afraid I'm gonna cum fast. Don't think I can hold off." He drew his legs upward and wrapped them around Grant's torso, as Grant mapped out a path, down through the thatch of coarse pubic hair, to Paulie's dick. Teasing the head of Paulie's cock with his lips, then dragging them down over the rigid shaft, letting Paulie's dick sink inch by inch into his fevered mouth. The sensation was more than Paulie could bear. He bucked his hips against Grant's face and cried out. Only half aware that the telephone on Moretti's countertop was ringing. Completely unaware that the answering machine had even clicked on.

"Hey there, baby. It's Lisa. I know you're not in right now, but you rushed me out so fast this morning, I forgot to run something by you. We've been invited to dinner with my parents next weekend. Soooo...we need to touch base on that. No rush, whenever you get a chance. Oh, and hon? I don't know WHAT got into you this morning, but I have to say...I like it. I just love it when you're that horny. And I love you. Call me, okay? Soon? Bye bye."

The message was too clear to escape Paulie's notice. The weight of the woman's words cut him to the core. His heart sank, his stomach clenched as if he might be ill. At the same time, Grant paused, Paulie's dick still trapped between his lips. Shocked back into reality, no doubt. Angry, with himself every bit as much as the detective, Paulie shoved at Grant's shoulders with both hands. "Get the fuck off me, Moretti. Mother fucker. Jesus Fucking Christ." What the hell had he been thinking? He knew better than to let his guard down. Everyone was a fucking user.

"Wait...Paulie...listen to me," Grant clutched both forearms and pinned them back against the table, trying his damndest to hold Paulie still. He struggled and squirmed for a few seconds, then gave up the fight. Too exhausted after such a trying night, to do more than glare hatefully at the detective, as the man continued to explain himself. "How can you be pissed off? I had no way of knowing you'd end up here this morning. We've barely been civil to each other up till now... How was I supposed to know?"

Moretti waited, staring down into Paulie's face patiently, seeking out the slightest hint of acceptance in his expression. The frustrating part was, Paulie did understand. He knew he had no right, no reason, to expect a damn thing from the Grant. If anything, he was taking his own foolishness and neediness out on the other. Paulie sighed wearily and turned his head away from Moretti, not wanting to look him in the eye. "You're right, detective. Who you fuck is none of my business."

Groaning with exasperation, Grant lowered his head, brushing curvy, petal-soft lips across one of Paulie's nipples, sending a slow, crawling shiver down his spine. The burning, deep-felt tingle was difficult to ignore. "I can't do this, not right now....get off me, Moretti."

"You've wanted my dick since we first met, and you know it. You've been begging for it." The detective was biting at the stiff, rose-colored nub as he muttered, his taut stomach crushing against Paulie's cock. Shifting uncomfortably, a dark blush crept up over Paulie's face -- a result of the anger and embarrassment mingling inside him. There was no denying what Grant said. Even now, Paulie's body betrayed him. Trapped between their sweat-laced skin, his dick throbbed, despite the telephone's interruption.

"Yeah, you're right. But that was before I realized you were eating pussy." Urgh. Fuck. Why did he always have to blurt shit out when he was upset? Almost immediately, Paulie wished he could stuff the vile words back into his mouth. There was just so much bitterness inside.... And he'd hoped, this time... What had he hoped? God, he was being naive.

"Okay, fuck you, Paulie...if that's what you want. Go right ahead and act like a jealous little fag...it's up to you. " Abruptly, the detective released him and began to back off, tucking his hardon back into his pants.

Confused, Paulie reached out and clutched Grant's wrist, before the man could finish zipping up this trousers. Jealous? Was he jealous of the woman? Yes. He was, in fact, envious. Paulie hated to admit that he could harbor such a petty emotion, but it was there -- gnawing at him, in the same irritating fashion, as the voice he could hear, nagging somewhere in the back of his head. Should he just give up? Let the woman win out of foolish pride? The battle raged on in his mind, even as he spoke, "wait...Grant."

Before Moretti could react, Paulie sealed the other man's mouth with his own, stuffing his warm, slippery tongue between the detective's tight lips. Stroking, then retreating -- molesting Grant's mouth much more ruggedly than before. His own hostility driving him to behave in a more aggressive manner, until Grant was moaning into his mouth, his strong hands groping for Paulie's bare ass. Urging him closer, so that their cum-sticky cocks were crushed together.

Knees weak, Paulie broke their heated kiss, murmuring brazen words, softly against Grant's lips, "you're dying to know what it'd be like, aren't you? What it'd be like to fuck a real whore..." He tilted his face upward and stared into Moretti's dark blue eyes, his tongue wandering out lazily, gliding over the detective's mouth. "Look at my lips, Grant. Have you ever seen lips like mine? They were made for sucking cock."

Both hands on Moretti's chest, Paulie pushed him back against the kitchen wall and dropped to his knees. Running his hands over the detective's hips and gazing up at him, Paulie nuzzled against the man's dick with his face. Tilting his head so that the hot organ was rubbing against his cheek. Moaning, Paulie let the spongey head wipe a path of ooze down over his skin, until the glistening tip was grazing his full pout. "Do you want me to be your whore, Grant?"

The man growled and seized both sides of Paulie's head, wetting his own lips expectantly. "Ohgod. Yeah...Paulie....you look so fucking beautiful."

"Tell me, then...tell me you want me to be your whore and I'll fuck your dick with my mouth. I'll suck you soooo good." Feeling slightly nauseaus, Paulie encircled the base of Grant's cock with his fingers and held it still.

"Ahhhhyeah...ohfuck...you're a whore. My whore. Now DO it. Suck me good and hard. I wanna watch." Paulie opened his mouth and wrapped his fat lips around the mushroom shaped head. Sucking it like a lollipop, drawing back to run his tongue along the rim. Every expression and act deliberately exaggerated, for Moretti's sake.

This wasn't exactly how Paulie had wanted things to go. What had felt so "right" earlier, when they'd been messing around, now left him feeling cold. Detached. Once again, he was playing the part of the dirty slut -- putting on a show. Fuck, how he wished the phone never rang.

Moretti didn't seem to notice the change in his attitude. In fact, Paulie had a feeling that he could have told the detective to call him Santa Claus, and he'd have complied readily, being as overeager as he was to have his dick sucked off. It didn't matter. Paulie probably wouldn't give him the time of day, beyond sex anyway. He figured, he might as well give Grant something to remember him by. Something especially nice to recall, next time his fucking twat girlfriend was giving him head.

Smoothing his hands further back over the other's hips, Paulie clutched tight hold of Grant's muscular ass cheeks, letting the tips of his fingers sink into the sweat dampened crack. Pulling Moretti harder against his face, Paulie swallowed the meaty cock into his throat. His eyes tearing as the head slammed against his tonsils, then slipped deeper. Catching the rhythm of the other's thrusts with experienced ease, Paulie milked the man's dick with his lips. Tongue exploring the thin layer of skin stretched over Moretti's fully expanded organ. Playing over the swollen veins beating just beneath.

Over the sound of his own squishing and sucking, Paulie could hear the detective grunting hoarsely. Groaning his name. It was a definite turn on...listening to Moretti...controlling his pleasure...being able to tease or torture at will. Even though he had wanted things to be a bit different, he loved having the man's cock in his mouth. Found himself savoring the flavor of the other's precum, as it seeped out in a slow trickle over his tongue.

Paulie's own hard prick was aching. Bouncing between his skinny thighs, balls swaying along with the bobbing movements of his head. He quickened his pace, sucking with relish, wriggling his fingers further down into the cleft in Moretti's ass, until he was able to feel the other's wrinkled pucker beneath his fingertips. With one finger, Paulie stroked the rough orifice, already knowing the response it would elicit from Moretti.

"Jesus...ohgod...Paulie...Paulie...I'm gonna cum." Grant's body jerked, as if he intended to pull out before he shot his load. But Paulie held fast, whimpering in protest around the cock, filling his mouth. Waiting. Until finally, Moretti cried out loudly, yanking hard on Paulie's long, silken hair -- the man's cock throbbing in the confines of Paulie's feverish mouth, spitting jets of cum deep into his throat.

Paulie swallowed greedily, then lapped at the detective's dick and balls until he was limp. And clean of all sweat and cum. For a short while, he stayed down on his knees, his forehead pressed against Grant's lower abdomen. Face nestling in his dark blond pubic hairs. For the first time in years, Paulie felt....self-consious. He fought off the urge to cry, not completely understanding what the fuck was wrong with him.

"Hey...come're..." Grant grabbed him beneath the arms and tugged him to his feet, eyes still glassy, as he stared into Paulie's face, "I wanna touch you, now."

"I don't think so, Moretti. It's been a long night. I'm tired." And if I don't bury my head in a pillow soon, I might just cry like a baby, right before your eyes.... Paulie wanted to add this, but somehow managed to refrain. Control. It was so important. So necessary.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm more than sure." He cast his eyes downward, already slipping back into Grant's cut-off jean shorts. He shrugged out of the long white shirt, and swiped at the cum on his face with it, then tossed it to the detective.

"What about last night? You never told me what happened?" Confusion apparant on Grant's face, the man zipped up his pants, eyes never leaving Paulie. Unnerving him. Angering him.

"I stabbed...someone. No big deal. It was self defense." Paulie muttered beneath his breath, "now if you'll excuse me... I think I'll be needing a pillow." He shot Moretti his most innocent look.

"WHAT?! You STABBED someone? Oh...god...Paulie...."

"Look. If you wanna talk more about this, it'll have to wait. I'm gonna go lay on the couch." Paulie stomped off into the living room with Grant at his heels, then flopped down heavily onto the couch. "Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna get me a pillow?"

Moretti blinked, "What's the matter with you? Are you still pissed off about the phone call?"

"No. I just want to fucking SLEEP. But if you wanna be stingy with your pillows. That's fine. I've slept in worse places." With an exhausted sigh, Paulie curled up on his side in a fetal position, and closed his eyes. Pretending not to care whether or not Grant stayed there, towering above him. "And don't forget to leave me a 50 spot before you leave for work."

"Huh?"

"You said you wanted me to be your whore, remember? I get paid for my services." Even as he let the words spill from his lips, Paulie felt a sharp stitch deep within his chest. He didn't mean it -- knew he didn't mean it. Again he was striking out. Trying to hurt Moretti, just because HE was hurting.

"You little fuck...." The agitation in Grant's voice was obvious, as he stormed off towards his bedroom.

Paulie whispered against the cushion in a small voice, a voice too low to be heard. "I'm sorry, Grant."

The last thing he heard, before drifting off into a restless sleep, was the crash of Moretti's bedroom door as it was kicked shut.

Alone. He was alone again....

continue...