Gay Erotic Stories

PART THREE: THE LONG ROAD HOME We stayed at Danny’s Brentwood estate under guard for three days after Nina’s death. Again, I was front-page news. I was sneaked back to my home to get some clothes. I also packed two bags for Adam. On my way out, I stood in the kitchen. There were no traces of any blood. It had been cleaned to perfection. I stood there listening to the waves, thinking back to all the fun times I had here in this very kitchen. “Goodbye house”, I said aloud. Somehow we were able to bypass the press. On Friday Danny, Adam, Nicky, three bodyguards and myself boarded a charted Gulfstream jet for the Bahamas, out of Orange County’s John Wayne Airport. The flight was silent. We barely said three words between all of us. When we landed, the jet was escorted to a private hanger, and we left in three Land Cruisers. As we drove through the countryside and into the mountains, the scenery was breath taking. Several times, Adam would look out the window an squeeze my hand. The entire valley was alive in blazing colors. I felt as if know harm could come to anything or anyone on this peaceful tropical island. We arrived at a secluded gated villa, far from the main road. The island of St. Capri had been on my list of travel ports, but I never thought this is how I would get to see it. The villa was perfect. The perfect setting for romance or…murder. Even the name of the villa, Seascape, had an aura of mystery. We were introduced to the two maids and a cook, who we were told, could handle a firearm better than Adam or our bodyguards. After unpacking, I went downstairs and joined the others on the deck overlooking the red tiled roofs and ocean. “Ok, Danny, how did you arrange all this?” I asked. Adam answered for him. “Its all simple El, Danny’s father was in the CIA, and this is a safe house.” As I sat down, Nicky, who was always good at reading my mind, put a gin and tonic in my hand. “Elliot, these people here are the best. They have guarded people from all over the world. From Presidential families to Royal families. You will be safe here. Trust me.” Danny smiled, patted me on the shoulder and took another sip of his scotch. “How long will we have to be here, I mean..” Nicky cut me off. “Its heaven, I could just die here.” With quick wit I replied. “That might just happen sweetie.” He gave me a cold stare, remembering why were here in the first place. Then looked over at two of the three bodyguards, one standing to one side of the patio, and the other two were standing behind us. “Sorry Elliot.” Deke Andrews sat in his cheap motel room in San Francisco watching the news cursing. How was he going to find Phillips? There had to be a way. Some newscasters said he was in London, others said New York. There had to be a way. Then it dawned on him. He knew how it could be done. But first he would have to change his appearance. He picked up his duffel bag from the floor, and dumped all the contents onto the bed. He had stolen some of Phillips jewelry. He stared at it smiling, then picked up the phone book, and looked under pawnshops. Two days later the old Deke was gone. He had his hair colored from dirty blond to a soft blond, with dark gold highlights, styled very fashionable. He even opted for a manicure and facial. His eyes were now green, thanks to contact lenses. Next he hit a few of the designer men’s shops in Union Square and purchased some new clothes. When he walked out of Wilkes Bashford’s, he was a new man. He could have passed for a lawyer, stockbroker or any profession. He was wearing a black linen Armani suit with a black silk T-shirt and a pair of black Bally square-toed lace-ups. His new hair moved as the San Francisco’s wind breezed down the windy street. He had also purchased a pair of black square Ray Ban dark glasses. The look was perfect. Actually, he was amazed how well he cleaned up. He could pass for anybody now. And if he was going to enter the world of Elliot Phillips, he had to play the part to perfection. Deke had gotten almost five thousand dollars from the watches and jewelry he pawned Then he got another six thousand from the cash register of the pawn shop He really did hate to kill the old man, but he had no choice. He arrived first class, via Delta Airways, and checked himself into a suite at the Peninsula Hotel in Beverly Hills. He changed into a navy Bill Blass suit, white silk shirt, navy loafers with out socks. Admiring himself in the mirror, he was ready to go to work. His third stop was the very upscale and trendy gay bar and restaurant called The Library. This had to be the place. All the cars that were pulling into the valet section, were well over fifty thousand. This place, he thought, was where someone had to know Elliot Phillips. He walked in and took a barstool in the middle. He wanted to be seen. And he was. Deke, who had now chosen to call himself Tyler Cavendish, was far from being ugly. Deke Andrews was redneck trailer trash, but Tyler Cavendish was of breeding. He had a great set of pecks, nice muscular legs, and a tan to die for. The green contacts gave him an under current of raw sensuality. Tyler sat sipping his martini, one leg crossed over the other, shirt unbuttoned just enough for the blond chest hair to be seen. He had kept Phillips Piaget tank watch, a few rings, bracelets, and chains. He planned to give the appearance of a bored and spoiled guy from old family money. A very distinguished looking man with perfectly coifed gray hair sat down next to him. He stared on and off at Tyler. Who in turn would lick his lips and sip his drink, occasionally looking at the front door or glancing at his $5000.00 watch, as if he was waiting for someone. “May I get you another one, while you are waiting for your friend? “ he said smiling with a set of teeth that could not of been his own. Tyler studied his words and actions carefully. He nodded, caught the attention of the bartender with just a wink. “A Stoli martini, with a twist please. And I am not waiting for anyone,.. It’s a nervous habit Maybe, it comes with being single.” God he was perfect. He had immediately lost that Louisiana drawl. He turned slowly to face the man, running a well-jeweled and manicured hand through his hair. “Tyler Cavendish.” “Jimmy Banks, pleasure.” They shook hands, and Jimmy held on a bit longer than he should have. Tyler’s drink arrived and he gave Jimmy a simple kiss on the lips. It was now time to put his plan into action. Deke brought up several topics from fashion to the problems in Miami about the custody battle between Elian and his Cuban father. He felt he could now move in for a target question. “You know Jimmy, I am really bumped about something. I fly all this way to see my friend, Elliot Phillips, and I find out his has left town. After that madman tried to kill him, I thought I would come out and spend some time with him. Maybe take him to Greece, to visit mum and daddy on their yacht, the Sailing Cloud. But, when I called his office, no one has seen him. His secretary sounded so mysterious. And now, I am really getting concerned about…” “You mean you haven’t heard?” “Heard what?” “It’s been on every major station. Elliot’s housekeeper was killed five days ago. It seems this Andrews fellow, a total nutcase, escaped from van that was taking him to jail, killed two guards, somehow got into Elliot’s house, killed the housekeeper and is now trying to kill Elliot,.. again.” “Oh my God…poor El…” Tyler sipped some more of his drink and continued talking to Jimmy, occasionally rubbing Jimmy’s leg, or caressing his chest to tease Jimmy. The place was now getting crowded with the after office crowd coming in. Jimmy suddenly looked up, and motioned someone to join them. “Tyler, this is Bobby. He is a good friend of Nicholas Van Bourne, who is…” “ Oh yes, Nicky…I was hopping to see him also while I was in town.” “Well,”, Jimmy said, swallowing his olive,”If anybody knows the inside track, its Bobby. He and Nicky are tight.” Tyler smiled confidently, now turning his attention to Bobby. As the conversation continued, more and more details about Elliot Phillips were coming into view. How gay men love to gossip. It came to light that the detective, who saved Elliot, was now having an affair with him. He had bought the tiny round several drinks, and was playing the good single friend from out of town, who was overly concerned about his dear college friend. A tall good looking blond guy wearing a serious suit, accompanied by a bow tie, who worked at a brokerage firm said, ”Well I heard from a guy who is a friend of the guy who cleans the pool at Elliot’s house. That they are together at least three times a week.” “Really,” came another voice, “ I saw them working out last week together at Briggs Gym in Woodland Hills.” “Why in the world would they be at Briggs, that’s clear in the valley?” Jimmy questioned. “Need I saw more.” Quipped our bow tied stockbroker. The entire group grinned, and even if you were standing by the front door. Over that entire noise level, you could have still heard ten men on que scream out hmmmmmmmmm, and a burst of laughter and the clicking of glasses. Tyler did not laugh. Bobby, who was on his third Tanguray, decided he was going to have Tyler. “So handsome, what are you doing later?” Bobby whispered into Tyler’s ear. This is exactly what Deke was hoping for. He took Bobby’s hand and led him out to the terrace. Jimmy masterfully hid his disappointment; he really was taken with Tyler. He turned his attention to the cute guy in the bow tie. Always have a back up plan. Before Bobby had time to say anything. Tyler had sat down his drink, pulled Bobby into his arms for a kiss. Bobby could not believe his luck. Here was this sexy man who could have anyone in the bar, and he wanted Bobby. “Do you have a car?” “Come on,..I’ll show you.” They left without saying a word to there newly formed group. They walked outside to valet, and in minutes Bobby’s silver Lexus 400 was wheeled around. As they were driving, Tyler kept his arm playfully on Bobby’s neck. “Hey Bobby, could we drive by Nicky’s house. I would like to leave him a note. I don’t have his phone number.” “No problem.” Only Jimmy, who had gone out to the terrace to see if he could get Bobby away from Tyler, noticed them leaving together. He signed, and walked back to the group. He made a mental note to call Bobby tomorrow and get the low down on their night together. After much persuading, we were finally able to convince Alfred to stand guard outside our bedroom. Instead of in it. We were both exhausted from the flight, and a bit tipsy from the liquor. But as I laid down on the bed, Adam climbed on top of me. And sleep, was the last thing on my mind. His tongue circled my nipples, then entered my mouth. I could taste the scotch on his breath, and it got me high. We made love that night with such power, as if it was our last night alive. I wondered what Alfred what have said, siting in the corner, seeing me with my legs wrapped around Adams waist. We made so much noise, I was kinda half-expecting Alfred to come barging in any second. We lay there, looking out the terrace at the full moon, when I had the oddest thought. “Adam I just had a weird thought.” “What’s that’s baby boy?” “Nicky has never been a quiet person, I hope he hasn’t told anyone where we were going.” We both sat up in bed, and two seconds later were barging into Nicky’s room. We got our answer. Adam stared cursing aloud, and I sat on the floor, pounding my fist at the hardwood floors. “I don’t see what the big deal is, Bobby is my best friend and he would never tell a living soul. I trust him. I really do. There is nothing to fear.” Bobby Reynolds condo was on the 15th floor in the Century City Towers. It was decorated very California hip. Bobby was considered an attractive man. He was your typical blond, blue-eyed surfer boy type. He worked out three times a week and displayed a hard body. He was a lawyer at a big firm in downtown Los Angeles. Life had been good to Bobby. Bobby showed Tyler to the living room and pointed out to the window to admire his stellar view. “I’ll make us a drink, make yourself at home.” He made drinks for the two of them, and in what he thought were questions of concern, he told more than he should from the bedroom. He striped out of his suit into a silk robe and silk boxer briefs. He looked at himself in the mirror briefly and smiled. He had high hopes of having Tyler in that very room, very soon for a night of passion. When he came back into the living room, Tyler was standing in the doorway smiling, holding out his empty glass. Bobby laughed and went to the bar to make another round, longing to be kissed again by those powerful lips. When Bobby turned around, Tyler was standing in front of him, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. Bobby closed his eyes for a minute, still holding Tyler’s drink. Upon opening his eyes he thought he saw something shiny and long come from behind Tyler’s back. The shiny object came down at such force; it took off his right hand. The crystal Baccarat tumbler fell to the floor in a sea of blood and scotch. He held up his severed hand, looking at it wide eyed and tried to scream, but nothing came out. Not one single sound. Bobby backed away, turned around, and slowly staggered into the living room, trying to get to the phone. He collided into the J. Seward Johnson Jr. bronze statue, sending it crashing to the floor. The second blow came from the back. The knife tore through his Hugo Boss silk robe like butter. He screamed and fell to the floor. In vain he tried to crawl to the phone. But Deke walked over him, picked up a crystal Waterford gable from the Marsh Brown sofa table and in two massive blows, bashed Bobby’s head in. His blond hair that constantly floated down into his right eye was now matted in blood. In his last effort of strength, he turned his head to face Tyler and looked up at Deke, with tears in his eyes, wondering why. Then muttered the words, please help me. And faded into death. Deke turned him over on his back, undid the belt to his robe, cut off his briefs, took some of the blood from Bobby’s hair, put it on his dick and fucked him. Minutes later his body went rigid as he came. He pulled out of Bobby’s ass, looked over at his once attractive face and envisioned the face of Elliot Phillips. The Seascape arrivals were sitting downstairs in the library. “First thing we do is have the police check on Bobby Reynolds.” Danny informed us. That night nobody got any sleep. Nicky had gone to bed with an old boyfriend of his…Jack Daniels. Danny was in the library with Adam, making calls back to Los Angeles. And I found peace in the wicker chair, on the deck in our room with an old girlfriend…Remy Martin, and the every silent Alfred. I must have passed out at some point from fear and booze, cause I woke up in the bed. I threw on a T-shirt and some boxer shorts and gently walked downstairs. As I neared the bottom of the stairs, someone was crying. I walked out to the patio, and Nicky was crying. Everyone looked at me when I came out. Adam came over and hugged me. “What’s happened?” I asked, not really wanting to know. “Bobby is dead, they found him this morning at his home, stabbed and raped.” Danny said, with his head bowing toward the ground, giving me the grim details of his death. I shook my head and started walking through the garden. Danny signaled, and Alfred was on my heels. “We have to get out of here now.” Nicky said. Deke went into the bathroom, washed the blood off him and smiled into the mirror. He then went into the master bedroom, grabbed Bobby’s wallet and car keys, and left. He went back to his hotel, packed and checked out. The next morning, the radio was a buzz with the brutal slaying of a promising young attorney. “He knows were here Adam. What the fuck are we going to do?” I asked. “I think we are safe for the moment.” “Safe, safe for the fucking moment He’s going to come here, and kill us.” Nicky yelled out.” And if you had keep your fucking mouth shut, Bobby would be alive” Adam retorted. Tears came down Nicky’s face as he stormed out of the room. Jimmy Banks sat in the West Hollywood police station waiting to be interviewed. He was still shaking about the death of Bobby. It could have been me he kept thinking over and over again. He ended up going home with a cute 25-year-old, who looked like Brad Pitt, when he played in the movie Legends of the Fall Something about a guy with long hair, always give him a lift down below. At least after the third martini he looked like Brad Pitt. “Mr. Banks, please come with me” a uniformed officer said. Jimmy walked the short distance to a private office. He steps seem to become slower and slower, and he was feeling a bit dizzy. He had not been in a police station since he was in college. And that was damn near forty years ago for an anti-war protest.