Closer by Morning (17 page)

Matt Blyth had been his target for almost a year. Before any of the most recent killings, Matt had been on his radar. Matt was something special. More special than any man he'd pursued before. There always came a point for Clint, during the long process of choosing a victim and following him, when the urge to kill became too great, when it couldn't be denied any longer. That hadn't happened with Matt. So far, he drew more pleasure from the slow pursuit and manipulation of his prey than the idea of killing him. Toying with him, playing with him, fucking with his mind. Like the other night when he slashed the tires of his car.

With Matt, he was playing a longer game than usual.

The more recent killings, indeed the creation of the Durham Strangler, were a diversion, a side project that allowed him to draw out the chase. It was considerably more rewarding.

Matt was a curiosity. Clint didn't fully understand why this man piqued his interest more than any other. He was a handsome bastard—nice body, nice ass—but that wasn't it. His body would be even better soon. If he kept up the exercise. Luring him to boot camp had been inspired. And easy. Clint dropped fliers for the course at all the houses on the estate and then a week later to all the businesses in the area of Matt's work. He was prepared to wait. Do it all again in a few week's time. But that hadn't been necessary. The bimbo from Matt's office had called to book a session after the first drop.

Of course if he hadn't come to boot camp Matt would never have struck up a romance with the cheesy American. But even that had the potential to amuse him. Especially since Dale was mixed up in that stupid TV show, the one they claimed Clint was copying. How was he supposed to mimic something he hadn't seen? Still, it struck him that he could delay Matt's murder and make it a lot more interesting by killing Dale first.

What a blast that would be.

Watching from afar as Matt dealt with his grief. Playing a long game of mental torment before the inevitable end.

Cutting between two houses, he came up on Matt's place. The American's rental car was parked on the drive. That Yank spent so much time here, he should pay rent.

Clint crossed the street then ducked into the shadows. He crouched low and waited. Silence. No twitching curtains or faces at the windows. No one to see him. He waited another five minutes, just to be sure, before edging toward the gate, opening it and disappearing around the side of the house. He was used to operating in complete darkness and maneuvered without making a sound.

For someone who worked with dangerous criminals and lived alone, Matt was hopelessly lax about security. There were no outside lights or cameras. Not even a dog. The house was not alarmed and he often slept with the windows open. The upstairs windows were easily accessible from the roof of the kitchen porch.

Clint had been in the house several times. Tonight he was only here to look. He hadn't intended on coming at all. Not until the news about Aaron broke. The fact that his latest victim worked on the American's TV show would bring his crimes into their world.

The murders were no longer taking place on the news, happening to other people. They were right here on their doorstep. It was someone they knew.

That notion alone gave him a big hard-on.

He raised his head above the kitchen sill. They were in the dining room, facing each other across the table, both in profile. There were two glasses between them and a bottle of red wine, almost empty. He didn't need to hear what they were saying. He understood the serious tone of their conversation from their expressions. Furrowed brows, soulful eyes, downturned mouths.

Death had entered their perfect lives. It had been there all along, they could only see it now he had chosen to offer a glimpse.

Look at them talking it over, trying to make sense and comfort each other. Sweet. Enjoy it while you can.

Clint grinned.

Matt Blyth and Dale Zachary had no idea. They were living on borrowed time and the end would come soon enough.

Chapter Fifteen

They stayed up talking late into the night. Dale told Matt everything. Not just about Aaron, but his whole life. His anxiety from being in the closet and the fear he felt should he be outed. The impact it would have on his son. The ruin it would bring to his career. The fear he'd felt for so many years, of himself, of being gay. The panic that had driven him to marry Laura.

Matt listened. Without comment or judgment.

It was difficult for Dale to open up like this. He could see it in his face. Hear it in his fractured speech. But gradually, as his story unfolded, the strain began to ease.

“So that's everything.” Dale sighed, sharing what was left of the wine between their two glasses. “Every damn, complicated, fucked-up facet of my life. What a crock of shit.”

Matt reached across the table, putting his hand on top of Dale's. “Thank you. You didn't have to tell me any of that. But please know how much I appreciate it.”

“Really?”

“Honestly.” He squeezed his hand.

“The shit is gonna hit the fan, you know. Over Aaron. There's no way I'll be able to keep my name out of the press. Shit, listen to me. That alone should tell you what a fuck-up I am. A man is dead and I'm worried about how the press might link my name with his. What an asshole.”

“Sssh,” Matt said softly. “So what if they out you? Big deal. We're not in the 1970s or 80s. It's not going to ruin you. Your role in
Blood Falls
proves that you've moved on from the pretty-boy phase of your career. This is a serious role. A dark role. I can't imagine they'll want you for more teen romances on the back of it.”

“It's not just my career that I'm worried about. There's Jack.”

“Does he know you're gay?”

“Of course not,” Dale said with wide eyes.

“Are you sure of that?”

“He's twelve years old.”

“And twelve year olds today are a lot wiser than we ever were,” Matt said. “They're not hung up on things in the same way earlier generations were.”

Dale laughed thinly. “No kid wants to think about their parents' sex life. I doubt things have changed that much. It's gross.”

“Grosser still to have to read about it on Facebook, or in the school yard.”

Dale looked up. ”What are you saying? That I should tell him first?”

“It would be better coming from you, wouldn't it?”

“I…don't know.”

Matt felt for him. He was hurting badly. Watching the bottom fall out of his world. “Look, if you ask me, I think there's a pretty good chance he knows already. I'd be amazed if he hasn't asked Laura about you. Give her a call in the morning. Find out. But I think you should speak to him soon. If the press is going to keep a lid on the story, it won't be for long. You'll have until Sunday, I would say. The British press—they love running scandal stories on Sunday. It's a tradition.”

“Some tradition.” He drained his wine.

“Come on.” Matt emptied his glass too. “It's late. Let's go to bed. There's nothing you can do until the morning.”

“I couldn't sleep. I've got too much going through my mind.”

Matt leaned in closer. “I said let's go to bed. I didn't say anything about sleeping.”

He wanted to be close to Dale, to assure him and prove he was there for him. Dale had been so worried. Telling him about Aaron and the relationship that ended just as they met. Matt wasn't the jealous type. Everyone came to a new relationship with some kind of past, bringing their emotional baggage with them. It wasn't enough to put him off. The only thing they had together was a future. There was nothing to be gained dwelling on what had happened before they met.

Dale went up first while Matt cleared away downstairs. He rinsed the glasses and placed them in the dishwasher, then put the empty wine bottle on the bench by the back door. The recycling bin was outside. He would take it out in the morning.

Just for a moment, through the kitchen window, he thought he caught sight of something pale. A face on the other side of the glass. It was gone as quickly as he saw it. A face? It couldn't be. Could it? He turned off the kitchen light to make it easier to see and leaned in close to the glass. The darkness outside was almost absolute. He could barely make out the borders of the garden. There was no one there. It must have been a trick of the light. Or a cat. There were plenty of those around the estate.

Or just his imagination.

It was running away with him. Hardly a surprise. It was late, and with all this talk tonight about the Durham Strangler and poor Aaron… Well, he had a right to be jittery.

He went up to bed.

Dale was finishing in the bathroom. Stripped to just a tight pair of white briefs that were a perfect showcase for his beefy butt, he rinsed toothpaste and spat into the sink. Matt came up behind and slid his arms around his waist, leaning the side of his face against Dale's shoulders. He squeezed, enjoying the warmth and hardness of his body.

“We'll get through this,” he said, kissing the golden skin of Dale's shoulder. “I love you. And I'm going to be there for you. It's Aaron and those other boys we should worry about. We're alive. We've got our health and each other. Everything else we can deal with.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” Dale said, pressed his bountiful ass back against Matt's hips.

Matt kissed a slow trail from his shoulders to the back of his neck. Dale shuddered. His skin broke into gooseflesh beneath his lips. “You'll get everything you deserve,” he said, rubbing his hardened crotch against Dale's ass.

They separated and Matt finished in the bathroom, washing his face and brushing his teeth. He stripped to his underpants and followed Dale to the bedroom.

Dale was waiting in the doorway with open arms. They wrapped around each other, mouths and bodies coming together. Matt was overcome by the instinct to protect him. He wanted to hold him, cover him, keep him safe from the storm that was brewing outside these four walls. His hands moved down Dale's spine, to the small of his back, to his ass, pulling him even closer. Dale surrendered to him, giving in, wanting and needing that protection.

Matt moved him toward the bed and lay him down carefully. He slipped his briefs over his hips. Dale raised his legs, yielding to Matt, looking up at him with wide, trusting eyes.

Matt went down on him with complete tenderness. He drew his tongue slowly around his balls, attuned to Dale's reactions, feeling his sac tighten and retract, seeing the hard shaft of his cock surge and jolt. Dale groaned and spread his thighs wide. Matt took his tongue lower, beneath his balls, tickling the seam of skin with just the tip of his wet tongue.

“Oh God.” Dale sighed. He put his hands around the back of his knees and lifted his hips higher, leaving Matt in no doubt about where he wanted him to go.

Matt kissed him. Soft, warm, intimate kisses. As intimate as two men could be. With a light, darting tongue, he teased the sensitive, opening and listened to Dale's helpless gasps of ecstasy. He put his hands on Dale's ass and spread him wider. He could have stayed down there all night, driving his lover crazy.

“I want you,” Dale said desperately. “I need you inside me.”

“Anything you want,” Matt said. He shoved off his underpants and scooted around the bed, hard dick bouncing. He took condoms and lube from the bedside cabinet and lay on top of Dale. Dale wriggled into position, lying on his back, between Matt's knees. With his thighs wide open and lifted, his asshole offered a wet, glistening invitation. Matt squeezed lube onto his fingertips and carefully smeared it around Dale's hot opening. Dale threw back his head, exposing his throat. Total surrender.

Matt put on a condom and palmed his dick with even more lube. He wanted this to be perfect—painless. An act of love and commitment rather than lust.

He entered slowly, pushing just enough to feel him give, then pausing, in complete control until Dale was ready, before easing in another centimeter. Deeper and deeper, he sank into Dale's welcoming body. Dale reached for him, drawing him down into a kiss. Now Matt was thrusting into his mouth and ass. Their two bodies joined as a single unit. Dale wrapped his legs around his hips, digging his heels into Matt's butt, drawing their bodies even tighter.

Matt began to lose that mannered control as the sheer pleasure of his lover's body consumed him. His thrusts became longer and deeper, feeling Dale with every inch of his dick. His whole cock tingled. Sweet, sweet torment—the most pleasurable itch that he didn't ever want to scratch.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, burying his head into Dale's shoulder. He slid his hands beneath Dale, gripped his ass, pulled it higher and screwed him harder and deeper. Dale clung on tightly, taking everything he could give. Urging him further with animalistic groans.

“Come inside me,” Dale sighed. “Let it all go. Come in me.”

It took an exquisite age. Matt felt as if he were on the perpetual verge of orgasm. Each languid thrust took him closer without ever reaching end. It was like a roller coaster before the drop, teetering on the edge, suspended in time. Then suddenly the pull of gravity was too much. He was falling hard, coming fast. Blood roared through his ears as he spilled everything into the man he loved.

Dale clung to him. Slowly, Matt pushed back onto his knees, leaving his dick inside. Dale gripped it tight and held on as he stroked his cock to rapid release. His body trembled violently, his ass even tighter and forced Matt's cock out as orgasm racked his body.

They collapsed together afterward. Laughing. A hot, sweaty, spunky heap.

They rolled onto their sides and gazed at the ceiling, taking in huge chestfuls of air.

“You're right,” Dale said at last.

“About what?”

“Me. Jack. I'm going to call Laura in the morning. If she's okay with me talking to him, I'll speak to Jack when he gets home from school. Tell him exactly what his old dad is.”

“His old dad is a great man. But he knows that already.” Matt rolled back onto his side, slid his hand across the flat hairy plane of Dale's belly. He stared at his profile in the dim light of the bedroom. It overwhelmed him at times, just looking at Dale. He had never known what the man of his dreams would look like, but knew with certainty that he was looking at him now.

“Hmm. I'll have to think of how I'm going to explain to him about Aaron. That's one thing I don't want him learning second-hand.”

“Tell him the truth. Aaron is a man you used to go out with and someone has done something very bad to him.”

“That's not exactly true,” Dale said, placing his hand on top of Matt's, entwining their fingers. “Aaron and I never went out. We never went anywhere except my trailer. I'm not about to explain the concept of a fuck-buddy to a twelve year old.”

“Tell him you liked him. That's all you have to say. It's enough, isn't it?”

“I guess it will have to be.”

“What was he like? Aaron, I mean.”

“He wasn't you.”

“That's not what I asked.”

“Sorry. I can't help feeling guilty. Angry too. He was a nice guy. Really. He was sweet, cute, funny. Some fella would have been very lucky to have him. He would have made a great boyfriend, I suppose. I never took the time to get to know him.”

“Did the police say anything about what happened? Or what they
think
might have happened?”

“Nah. I'm a suspect. They want me to tell them how I killed him, not the other way around.”

“You won't be a suspect tomorrow. Not after I tell them you were with me all night.”

“That depends on what really happened to Aaron,” Dale sighed. “On when he was taken. When he was killed.”

Matt leaned against his side, holding him tighter. “It's frightening, isn't it? Someone is out there killing young men. Men like us. It's unreal even talking about it. Like we're discussing one of your movies rather than something real.”

“Oh, don't,” Dale said. “It's bad enough already without bringing up the connection between ours scripts and the killings.”

“There is no connection.”

“It doesn't feel like it. I'm playing a serial killer, then my buddy is offed in a very similar fashion.”

“Sssh,” Matt said. “You don't know that.”

He sighed. “You're right. I don't know anything anymore.”

Eventually they got under the covers and turned out the lights. Dale lay on his side and Matt spooned into his back, holding him, still feeling protective.

“Try to get some sleep,” Matt said, pressing a soft kiss against the back of Dale's neck. “We'll get through this together.”

Dale snuggled against him. “Together. That sounds good.”

Despite everything that had happened, they both drifted into an easy sleep, safe in each other's arms.