Royal Page 2

  “This is cute,” Brodie Carlow snorted as he inspected the tiny weapon. “I thought you liked them bigger.”

  The other twin—Bruce—rammed his crotch to her ass, his cock a steel bar between his legs. “I’ve been waiting for this,” he growled in her ear.

  Carmen smiled and rolled her ass on his hard dick. “Yeah?” she cooed. “Maybe I have, too.” She flattened one hand on the cold bricks and began to gyrate, moaning softly as the thug got into it, practically dry humping her. She curled one leg back around his thigh, running the tip of her spiked heel along his leg. “Feel good, baby?”

  “Fuck, yeah,” Bruce panted and shoved up the back of her dress, exposing her bare ass. “Fuck.”

  Brodie stared at them, shaking his head. “Don’t be stupid,” he warned his brother. “She’s dangerous if you drop your guard.”

  “I got this,” Bruce groaned and unfastened his pants. “Get over here. Let’s double stuff this bitch with the two biggest cocks in the city.”

  Carmen moaned and continued to slide her heel up and down the back of his thigh and calf.

  “Bruce…watch yourself—”

  Bruce screamed and went down as Carmen wrenched the spiked heel from his leg, drawing blood.

  “Fuck!” Bruce wailed and grabbed his calf. “She fucking stabbed me with her heel!”

  Carmen spun around and brought her foot up, aiming that deadly heel at his face as her hand came out of her pocket, wielding the brass knuckles. Before the intended damage could be done—a bulking forearm slammed into her chest, smashing her into the brick wall. She managed to keep a grip on the brass knuckles, but they were rendered useless as Brodie spun her again and shoved her face-first into the bricks, pinning her from top to bottom with his entire massive body.

  “Good effort, sweetheart,” he snarled. “But even you’re no match for us.” He glanced skeptically at his downed brother. “Well, me, anyway.”

  “Fucking cunt!” Bruce struggled to his feet and limped over. “Come on,” he panted furiously. “Let’s fuck her raw.”

  Carmen’s face twitched against the cold stone. “Do what you gotta do, fuckers,” she hissed. “If you’re waiting for me to beg—your dicks will shrivel up and fall off first.”

  Brodie squeezed the back of her neck, making her wince. “Do you know why we’re here?”

  “I think so,” Carmen muttered. “Too bad for you—you’re not gonna make it home again.”

  “That’s big talk from a bitch about to get split in two,” Bruce chuffed.

  “I didn’t take you two for a couple of brain-dead morons,” Carmen wheezed as Brodie pinched down on her neck. “You have to know how this is going to end. Grugan sent you on a suicide mission. Goes to show how much he values the two of you.”

  “Shut up,” Bruce snapped. “He sent us because we know how to get the job done.”

  Carmen laughed low. “Good luck with that.”

  “Enough fucking talk,” Brodie muttered and opened his pants. He dragged her off the wall and instructed his twin, “You take her from the front. I want this sweet, tight ass.”

  Carmen clenched the brass knuckles, and the second she gained mobility, she swung at Bruce’s face. He caught her wrist and squeezed, twisting her hand. She gasped and her fingers curled open, releasing the weapon. The brass knuckles hit the concrete with a dull clank and Bruce grinned. “You’re gonna pay dearly for my leg, bitch.”

  “Fuck off.” Carmen spit in his face and headbutted him.

  Bruce grunted and staggered against the wall, an instant bruise swelling between his eyes. “You fucking whore.” He yanked her dress up to her tits and shoved down the front of his pants, releasing his huge cock.

  Carmen struggled and tried to gouge them both with her heels.

  “Hold her!” Bruce yelled as he attempted to get his cock inside her.

  Brodie grabbed her hips and shoved her against Bruce, locking her between the brothers.

  Fuck. She wasn’t getting out of this. If all they intended to do was rape her—she could come back from that. But they meant to finish her off afterward—and she wasn’t ready to check out just yet. Not that she had a choice in the matter. If she was up against just one, she could’ve surely gotten loose. But the two together was a massive force—in more ways than one.

  Brodie ran his rigid cock up between her ass cheeks, rubbing through her crack.

  His twin’s dick rammed through her thighs. The two of them lifted her up a bit for better positioning as she kicked and screamed, hoping for a lucky strike of spiked heel against flesh. Brodie’s slick cock head nudged her asshole. This is it—

  “Hey!”

  The sudden intrusion startled them all and Carmen jerked her head around toward the opening to the alley. A young man in a black leather jacket stood rigid—a steel pipe clutched in his fist.

  “Let her go!”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Bruce growled.

  “Get out of here, fucker,” Brodie warned. “Trust me—you don’t want any of this. Don’t be a fucking hero. She ain’t worth it.”

  The young man swung the pipe, smashing over a metal garbage can. “I said let her go.”

  Carmen’s feet touched the ground as the brothers turned their focus on the intruder. “I’m warning you, shit for brains—take a fucking hike!” Brodie dragged back the flap of his jacket to reveal his handgun. “Or you’ll be feeding the fishes along with the whore tonight.”

  The young man stood his ground and gripped the pipe with both hands like a baseball player. He was shaken by the sight of the gun but didn’t run away.

  Chivalry isn’t dead, Carmen mused and took advantage of the distraction. She snatched up the brass knuckles. The movement brought Brodie back to attention—in time to swallow some teeth as she punched him straight in the mouth then uppercut his jaw, dropping him to the ground.

  “Wha—” Bruce grabbed for her and went down beneath her deadly heel—embedded in his exposed crotch. Carmen brought the brass knuckles down on his skull, laying him out.

  The young man stood frozen in place, eyes wide. “Holy…shit.”

  Carmen disarmed the two unconscious men and tugged down her dress then approached the young man. “Thank you, handsome. You saved me.”

  He swallowed hard and glanced at the downed men. “You did that, not me.”

  She smiled. “I couldn’t have gotten the upper hand without the distraction, though. So…” She kissed his cheek. “…you saved me.” She gazed at him. He was quite a hottie, though a tad young for her preference. And possibly the wrong gender—she hadn’t decided yet which way she swung. Maybe both. “What’re you doing out wandering the streets of LA at night? Practicing being a superhero?”

  He shrugged and smiled small. “Just taking a walk.”

  There was anguish in his eyes that gave off a sense of loneliness. He looked lost. Had some foolish girl broken his heart?

  “Why don’t you let me thank you properly for your services.”

  The young man hesitated. “I…”

  Carmen laughed lightly. “I didn’t mean that. I just meant, let me buy you a drink and introduce you to some good friends of mine who will be eternally grateful to you for saving my ass—literally saving my ass.”

  “Uh…okay.”

  She linked her arm through his. “My car is out front.” They walked out of the alley and approached a shiny red sports car. “Do you have a phone? I left mine inside. I need to call my friends and let them know what happened.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Sure.” He dug out his cell and handed it to her.

  Carmen walked a short distance away and made her call, reporting the incident. “It was the Carlow brothers. Grugan’s men. You need to get down here while they’re still out cold and deal with them.” She glanced back at the young man. “I would…but I have company.”

  When she returned to the car, she gave the phone back to the young man.

  “Shall we go?”

  He nodded as he tucke
d the phone away.

  Carmen went around to the driver side and opened the door. “By the way,” she said over the roof of the car, “I’m Carmen.” She winked. “But my best friends—and worst enemies—call me Karma.”

  The young man looked back toward the alley then met her stare. “Somehow, that seems…fitting.”

  Carmen laughed; she liked this guy.

  PART ONE

  Royal Pain

  Before … “Wages of Sin” (pt. 1)

  The setting sun splashed its burning rays across the front windshield of the bloodred Chevy Express cargo van parked across the street from the cookie-cutter pre-fab homes, painting the man’s face with an orange hue and reflecting like fire in his hard eyes.

  Hard eyes that concentrated on Pratt as the cameraman entered one of the small houses.

  “Gotcha,” the man whispered. A mixture of emotions roiled inside him. Pratt would pay for his sins. He would pay for Scotty. But not just yet.

  The man turned the radio on, keeping the volume low as he surfed the stations until he found a tender love song. Warmth seeped into his heart as he reclined his seat a bit and settled in, his eyes half closed as he watched the red-orange ball slowly sink into the horizon. The music wove romantic tendrils through him, bringing his body back to life as his dreams of Scotty balanced on the edge of coming true. They had been apart for so long. Did the boy still think of him? How would it make him feel to learn that he had been desired all this time? Longed for?

  His hand crept unbidden between his thighs and cupped himself. He ached for the warmth of his skin, the inner heat of his tender body. A soft moan bubbled in his throat and he gently massaged his restrained erection. Pleasant shivers raced through him at the thought of Scotty loving on him with his hands…his mouth.

  All his sensual imaginings stuttered to a halt as his eyes drifted to the pre-fab home into which Pratt had disappeared. What all had he done to Scotty? He had no right to touch him. Had he broken the boy? Fucked up his mind?

  A low burning fury seared his blood. Scotty was special. A treasure. And that bastard had put his filthy hands on him. Had had his cock inside him.

  “I swear to God,” the man hissed tightly. “You will pay for what you’ve done.”

  The sun faded below the endless line of matching rooftops, drawing with it the light from the sky and pulling the blanket of dusk down over the neighborhood. The man righted his seat and turned off the radio. The streetlamps began to flicker on along with a few porch lights. Pratt’s porch remained dark. A single window glowed dimly behind a thick curtain. There was no indication he was welcoming of visitors, but that really wasn’t surprising.

  The Chevy’s driver door shoved open and the man stepped out. He was dressed casual, nothing about him “out of place” in this neighborhood. He blended in perfectly.

  The hard rubber soles of his Romeos thumped dully against the paved street as he strolled across to the other side, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black leather jacket. He stepped up on the curb with a light hop and sauntered up the short walk to Pratt’s home, casually climbing the three porch steps to his door.

  He withdrew one hand and pressed the doorbell, then returned his hand to his jacket pocket and waited. When he heard no movement inside, he rang again.

  Silence.

  He sighed and looked at the door, then tried the doorknob. It twisted easily in his grip. He smiled, opened the door, and entered into a short, shadowed entryway. A single dim light came from the living room, the rest of the house dark but for a faint light beneath a door at the far end of the hall directly before the man.

  He closed the door quietly and walked down the hallway, his Romeos silent on the padded carpet. Outside the bedroom door, he paused and listened. He could hear low, tinny voices coming from what sounded like a computer speaker, and—Pratt jerking off. By the slight control of his panting, he wasn’t ready to blow his wad just yet.

  The man twisted the doorknob slowly and eased the door open a few inches. The bed on which Pratt was sprawled, was situated such that it placed the bedroom door out of Pratt’s line of sight and peripheral vision. Perfect. He entered with quiet steps, unnoticed by Pratt as the guy was fully focused on the laptop screen near his parted feet. He was completely naked, back propped against a stack of pillows, and fist stroking wetly up and down his lubed cock. Heavy groans rumbled in his chest, his breath steadily quickening.

  Eyes shifting to the computer screen, the man’s brow tightened and furrowed with hard lines as he stared at the recorded footage of Pratt fucking Scotty—and not too tenderly. Though the boy was clearly feeling some pain, he continued to beg for more, thoroughly submitting to Pratt.

  As “video Pratt” began to lose control and ram his cock into the boy—Pratt on the bed equally picked up the pace, panting erratically, beating off uncontrollably. His head flopped back on the pillows, eyes squeezed shut and jaw clenched as he thrust his dick through his fist, rocking the bed. Strangled growls and wails wrenched up his throat as squirts of cum began to flick from the head of his cock, splattering his sweaty torso.

  “Uuuhhh!” he yelled. “Fuuuck!” He sucked in a hard breath, clutched his shaft and squeezed out the last dribbles of cum then sagged against the bed, panting heavily. “Fuck…”

  “Hope you enjoyed it.”

  Pratt jumped, gasping in shock as he spun around. His foot struck the laptop and sent it crashing to the floor, his eyes bulging. “What…?”

  The man moved closer with a casual air. “Because it’s the last orgasm you’re ever going to experience.”

  CH 1 … “A Thing Called Love”

  “Have a seat.” Gideon motioned to the chair before his desk. The young man sat down but remained tense, his dark eyes evasive as they darted nervously around Gideon’s study. He was a nice-looking boy, appeared rather shy, but Gideon had quickly learned that shy didn’t necessarily imply a lack of passion. Gideon took his seat behind his desk and smiled warmly at the young man in hopes of easing his anxiety. “So, tell me…have you ever done porn?”

  After a couple passes over his face, the boy finally met Gideon’s gaze and held it. “No, sir,” he mumbled.

  Sir? It wasn’t often Gideon was addressed as sir—unless one of his boys were being cocky about it, and then it was usually delivered with an emphatic salute as well. Yet it fell quite naturally from this kid’s lips as if he were accustomed to using the term.

  “All right.” Gideon nodded. “Quite honestly, many enter porn for the money with the reasoning that making a living having sex is the ideal career choice. And granted, with the right company, one can make a nice living at it.” He cleared his throat as the kid now stared at him without wavering, hanging on his every word. Two seconds ago, he could barely meet Gideon’s eyes, and now—it was as if he couldn’t look away. “I want to emphasize that a career in porn isn’t always as…simple as it appears. Some come into it because they enjoy casual sex. But what they sometimes don’t realize is that this is a job. And they are required to perform quite regularly. In time, it can wear on a person. Become more of a chore than anticipated. Even desensitize one to sex. Like any other job, you have to approach it with the understanding that even on those days when you don’t feel…up to it, you still have to show up and give it your best.”

  The boy nodded. “I understand,” he murmured.

  A myriad of emotions ebbed and churned behind the young man’s dark eyes, all of them fluid and none taking dominance long enough for Gideon to truly get a read on the boy. Yet something in there reached out to him and Gideon was overcome with the sense that he belonged here.

  “So, what brings you to porn?” Gideon asked. “Is it the money?”

  The kid grew visibly restless and his eyes shifted away again, regaining their evasiveness.

  “It’s all right,” Gideon assured gently, “if it’s the money. I don’t sign on boys with the requirement that they remain in this business indefinitely. Thousands of people pass throu
gh the porn industry every year. Some stay, some don’t.” He rubbed his mouth and fell silent a moment, drawing the boy’s gaze back to his. “I do like to understand the initial motivation that brought you here, though.”

  Fidgeting in his chair, the young man said quietly, “I don’t care about the money. I like…the sex.”

  This wasn’t the typical “I just want to fuck all day” boy. There was more going on with him, Gideon could feel it. “This may sound like a silly question,” he said. “But what is it about the sex that you like so much? Besides the obvious physical pleasure.” When the kid hesitated uncertainly, Gideon chuckled. “I’m just curious. There isn’t going to be a pop quiz at the end or anything. There are no right or wrong answers.”

  Since his arrival, the boy showed the first glimpse of a smile. Though it dissipated as he considered his reply. “I like…” His lips pressed tight and he lowered his eyes to his lap. “…the intimacy. Being one with another person.” His voice softened to a bare whisper. “There’s no greater feeling…or sense of connection.”

  Gideon stared at him in quiet awe. It wasn’t often that the boys who came to him so openly admitted to viewing sex as something much more than physical gratification—although the ones who had stayed with him quickly developed strong bonds with one another, much like a family. But this young man looked deeper into the experience…much the same way that Gideon himself did. There was only one other boy in his house that displayed this level of insight into sex.

  As if cued by an off-camera director, there was a knock on the door. Gideon glanced away from the young man before him. “Come in.”

  A boy of nineteen opened the door and started to enter then halted abruptly when he saw that Gideon wasn’t alone. “Oh…I’m sorry,” he said softly, absently swiping a patch of blond hair out of his blue eyes. “I didn’t know you were busy. It can wait.” He started to retreat when Gideon stood and smiled.