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A Taste of Home

By: Danae72



Micah Taylor sat in the chair and looked at his boss even as his stomach dropped. After two years, in which he had received only high praise for his work, he was now being thanked and dismissed. He knew there was little use in arguing, they never changed their minds, but he couldn't help himself. Everything was going so well for him here until now.

"I don't understand. If there is a problem with my work, nobody mentioned it to me. All I've heard is that I do a good job, within the set deadlines and above the requirements."

"That is all true of course. Your work is above reproach." Samuel Jenkins hated having to do this, but his hands were tied. "After the recent attacks, the company feels that you are a liability. People are afraid to come to work, those in other departments. Your co-workers have no qualms at all, if that is of some consolation to you."

Micah uttered a harsh laugh. Oh yes, that was some consolation, except for the fact that he was still going to be out of a job. He needed the money to take care of his mother and sister and very few places hired nightwalkers, even a known half-breed such as himself. At twenty-three, this was his fifth job in three years, and he'd had such hopes for this one. It had lasted so long already that he'd become relaxed and content.

He should have been prepared after the first attack two weeks earlier, but he'd blithely assumed that it wouldn't touch him. These people knew him, after all. They worked with him, attended parties with him and would know that he was not at fault. There were other nightwalkers in the town, and he shouldn't be the one under automatic suspicion.

That wasn't quite fair. He was sure that the other two nightwalkers, bound just as he was, would probably also be dismissed. The thought brought his last possible argument to mind and he took a deep breath. It wouldn't change anything, but he had to try. His family depended on him and his income.

"Mr. Jenkins, please. You know that I'm bound. I get scanned every three months to keep my job, which is much more often than the once a year required by law. If I had attacked those people, I wouldn't be sitting here. I would have died right with the first attack."

"I'm sorry, but the decision is final. The company feels that there is no research to prove that a half-blood nightwalker would be constrained by a binding in the same manner as a full nightwalker." Now Jenkins began to feel uncomfortable as crystalline blue eyes narrowed on his face. He could almost see the thought process that zeroed in on the true unfairness of this dismissal.

"So. With that, I learn that you won't dismiss the other nightwalkers. How unfortunate that I can't prove the binding is effective. I mean, if I attack you and succeed, I'll be dismissed; if I attack you and don't succeed, I'll die a very painful death. I will be visiting lawyers, Mr. Jenkins. Please let the company know that they don't have a legal leg to stand on."

It was an empty threat and they both knew it. Micah felt childish for even uttering it but he had to say something. He didn't stay in the office, even when Jenkins began talking about a severance package. The money would help, but not for long. With all the recent attacks, and being let go from a job where attacks took place, nobody would want to hire him. They would see it as an unacceptable risk. He'd been through it before coming to work in the restoration department here.

The problem was that people knew he'd been born to a nightwalker father and full human mother. Never mind that this was how true nightwalkers existed. If he'd been born five years earlier, such a notation would not have been included in his permanent file. People believed that true nightwalkers were turned and he was part of some kind of new aberration. He couldn't explain the truth, so he kept his mouth shut against the injustice.

Having sold the family car a few months earlier to pay for new medicines after an unexpected hospital stay by his mother, Micah walked home in the darkness. He didn't worry about nightwalkers or other nighttime dangers; they couldn't bother him. There was that, at least. All he had to do was flash his fangs and everyone would leave him alone. Nightwalkers couldn't feed from him and the criminal element wouldn't dare accost him further in case he wasn't bound. They wouldn't take the chance. Besides, even a bound nightwalker could count on the assistance of regular nightwalkers, though they only used it as an excuse. The unbound welcomed any excuse for an attack.

When he next looked up, Micah saw where his feet had taken him. The house, lonely and small since rows of townhouses surrounded it, sat behind a small fence and gate. The tiny yard was the only one on this street. He remembered hearing how the builders of the townhouses tore their hair out when they couldn't buy the property from the elderly owner.

The elderly owner, a lady by the improbable name of Guinevere Lancelot Jones, was dead and buried now. The property had passed on to her grandson, Jack Lancelot Miller, about five years ago. Micah could probably walk through the entire house with his eyes closed he'd been here so often. Tonight would be the last night. He knew Jack wouldn't want him around if he didn't have a job. Best to get it over with. It would be a relief, really.

The front door opened before he was halfway up the walk and he froze in place. Right in front of him, Jack and Becky Harper, the woman who lived next door, were locked together in a passionate embrace. The woman who was married and whose two kids made Jack swear whenever he talked about them.

At least there's no need for a confrontation, Micah mused as he waited for the pair to see him. Once they did, Jack swearing slightly, Micah simply turned and walked away. It was nice to have someone in his life, but he had long ago lost any feelings for the man. He stayed because it was comfortable and it was easier to have someone than to go out looking when the mood struck.

******

The lights were on when Micah got home from his latest job interview. This one was for a factory that did not have a night shift but needed someone to act as security. The machinery was very valuable, as were the computer systems, and after three break-ins within two months, the owners wanted someone on the site around the clock.

As a nightwalker, even though he was small, he could handle anything that might come up. His strength was above average compared to non-nightwalkers, even if it was nothing like the old movies used to portray. This, coupled with his ability to see in the dark and move with speed and agility, helped him to pass all the tests the interviewers set up for him. So far as he knew, he was the only nightwalker to have applied, which should work in his favor. Another point in his favor was the lack of any other personnel on the premises after nightfall.

There was half an hour until sunrise, but Micah planned on spending a couple of hours with his mother and sister. Unlike turned nightwalkers, he could tolerate all but the strongest sunlight. He only needed to take cover between ten and three most of the year, except for summer, when it extended from nine to about four in the afternoon. He didn't advertise this to anyone, not even lovers, because it usually caused more problems than not.

"Mom? Jenny?" There was already a light on in the kitchen, which was unusual so early in the morning. His mother, Sarah Watson Taylor, often woke up when he arrived, but not before. Both his mother and younger sister sat in the kitchen, waiting for him. "What is it, is something wrong? Are you feeling sick, Mom?"

"I'm fine, Sweetie. Jenny opened up her letter from the university last night after you left. She got a full scholarship, plus the offer of a job at the campus library because of her exceptional grades."

Micah gaped for a moment, then let out a whoop of pleasure. "Jenny that's fantastic! I always knew you got all the brains in the family." He hugged his sister close for a long time. She was just like their mother, taller than he was, and had of course inherited none of the nightwalker genes.

They looked nothing alike, but were very close. She had black hair while his was blond. She had brown eyes while his were blue. Both of them loved old movies and blushed at the slightest provocation. Of course, his blushes were easier to see because of his pale skin, but she certainly blushed as well.

"You're no slouch in the brains department either, Micah," his mother admonished, disliking when he put himself down. "The only reason you didn't go to college is..."

"Because they wouldn't accept a nightwalker and they have no idea of the fabulous student they let slip through their fingers." He was well aware of what his mother thought. Truth was, he needed to work twice as hard as his sister to get the same grades and didn't really want to go to college or university. "Be that as it may, Jenny is smarter than anyone else I know."

"Whatever you say. Now, Jenny would like to move out there right away, since she can get an early start with a summer semester. With her gone, I think the time is right for me to move to an assisted living facility. My health is deteriorating rapidly and it would be for the best."

"No! I can take care of you even if I do get a job. I'll only be gone at night, while you're sleeping, and I can do a lot before I have to go to the basement for some sleep and rest. We can manage just fine right here, together."

The thought of his mother in one of those facilities bothered him. Weren't they just for the elderly? His mother wasn't old by any stretch of the imagination at forty-eight. She wouldn't be happy there, with nothing to do to keep herself busy.

"Micah, Sweetie, I didn't want to worry you, but I can hardly get around anymore, my bones hurt." Micah wanted to argue, but she held a hand up to stop him. "My mind is made up. I'm dying, simple as that. I need to be where I have easy access to doctors, day and night. I love you baby, but this really is for the best.

There is something you need to do, and now is the perfect time to get it done. It's time for you to go to Rutherford. Find your cousin and tell him the history your uncle refused to tell him. It's important; you and I both know that. Your father knew, may God have mercy on him, but he just didn't go in time. It's up to you now."

Micah didn't say a word. He got up and changed his clothes so he could go run in the park. Running was one of those things that baffled every other nightwalker of his acquaintance, including his father. It baffled them because he didn't run in the 'nightwalker way', with his great speed. No, he used his human muscles, pushing himself to greater speeds and distance in that way. A few times, when he ran longer than expected, he switched to nightwalker running, which wasn't really running at all, to get home on time. That didn't happen too often, though, because it felt like cheating to him.

As he ran, he tried to come to terms with all the changes in his life. He had no job, no boyfriend, his sister was going off to college and his mother had decided to go into assisted living. For the first time in his life, Micah was going to be alone. It was selfish of him to want things to remain the same. If his mother wanted to do this, it really was her decision. It didn't mean she didn't love him, nor did it mean that she didn't trust him to take care of her. All it meant was that she was ready to move on to a different phase of her life, the final phase perhaps. Only he seemed to be unable to move forward.

Micah started his third circuit of the park. He began to realize why he had such trouble accepting his mother's decision. He knew deep down that she was dying, but her decision really brought it home. The truth could no longer be denied. Although many cures and treatments were available for diseases that used to be incurable, his mother had one that still resisted all attempts. It was a relatively new disease, ironically caused by an over-the-counter medicine of the late twentieth century. There were other factors, such as health or an existing weakness, which explained why it wasn't more widespread.

The downward spiral of his life began when his father died a little more than two years previously. He wasn't foolish enough to think his father's death was the cause, just that it all started at about the same time. Ghislain Taylor had tried to go speak with his father about a disturbing rumor he heard. It seemed that Johan Taylor wanted to rid the world of the 'daywalker curse' and worked to that end. Ghislain tried to talk his father out of it, but in the end only succeeded in infuriating the man. Johan threw his own son out a window in the middle of the day, which caused him to burn and die.

Sure Johan regretted the action, he hadn't wanted to kill his son, but his letter of explanation did not apologize; only warned the family not to interfere anymore. Before going to see his father, Ghislain was preparing to go meet up with his brother, Kylen, who had bound himself to a woman and had a son. Micah wanted the meeting to go forward with him going instead of his father, but the time had never been right.

"Mom?" He knew he needed to tell his mother he was fine with her decision. She looked worried when she came out of the kitchen to see him, and then relaxed as she correctly read his expression. "You do whatever you have to do, Mom. I'll take care of selling the house and putting our things in storage before I travel to Rutherford to meet up with my cousin. What was his name again? Just in case Uncle Kylen's moved on from there and I need to find him."

"That's a good idea. We lost even the most basic contact when your father died. Your cousin's name...hmm, let me think a moment. If I'm not mistaken, his name is Penlan. Yes, Penlan Taylor, that's right."

******

Simon Rousseau leaned back in the chair of the pub and took a deep drink of the beer in front of him. He was winding down after a long week at work with a couple of guys from work. Jimmy Sparks, his occasional partner at the National Crimes Bureau, Donovan Andrews, also from the NCB and Ryan Sealey, from the Federal Daywalker Protection Agency, which had its offices in the same building. If a case required both agencies to work together, he was generally paired with Ryan.

"That hits the spot. It's been one hell of a week, that's for sure."

They had all been working on a string of bank robberies, carried out by a gang who only approached daywalker employees. The robbers allowed everyone but daywalkers to leave during the commission of the robbery. Twice the robbers had shot and seriously injured daywalkers, although thankfully there were no fatalities.

"At least we got them before anyone was killed," Ryan sighed, taking a pull off his own beer. "Pen and the ladies should join us soon. Carlie won't be here, though, her parents are coming into town for a visit."

Jimmy slumped down in his chair. He wanted the opportunity to hit on Ryan's partner but hardly ever got up the nerve when they were together. They all tried to push him into doing something, anything, but their efforts were wasted. Jimmy found himself tongue tied and nervous when in the same room with the beautiful woman.

Simon shook his head. "Well, Elisabeth won't be with them. She moved out this morning, swearing she didn't want to put up with my shit and long work hours anymore. Up until now, she always said she was fine with what I do for a living. Guess she finally decided it was too much for her."

The others all nodded their heads, knowing that not many outside the job could understand and accept the demands put on the agents. Only Ryan had someone really supportive and long term, his husband Penlan Taylor. The others had girlfriends. Simon and Elisabeth had been together four months and until that morning, she hadn't even hinted that she was unhappy.

Donovan caught sight of his old partner, who had moved on to another city. He dragged Jimmy with him after a quick glance at Ryan. Simon wondered what that look was for but figured he'd hear about it soon enough.

"Simon, I've told you this before, but I never did think Elisabeth was right for you. You need something else, and I wonder if you even know it."

It didn't take a genius to know what Ryan meant. He did not intend to make it easy, or give in. "I haven't a clue what you're talking about. Not sure I want to know what it is, either."

"You'd probably have much better luck if you went with what your heart really wants. I doubt what your heart wants is a woman."

There it was, now out in the open between them. Simon knew he was attracted to men, but he liked women as well. Men were not for him, though. He wanted a nice woman who would give him the kids he desperately wanted. If he couldn't find the right woman, that was one thing, but a man put kids out of the equation completely.

"It's not going to happen, Ryan. I like men just fine, but no, I have no intention of dating one or building my life with one." He drained the rest of his beer and looked around for a replacement. "You're happy with Pen, and it's easy to see the two of you were meant to be together, but that just isn't for me."

"I've seen the way you stare at Pen. You look like a kid who's seen that all the presents under the Christmas tree are for him but he can't touch them. I don't mind," Ryan hurried to say when he saw the appalled expression his words caused, "and I'm pretty sure nobody else has noticed. Well, maybe Donovan, though I sometimes think that he can read minds"

Turning his head away from those knowing, golden eyes, Simon had to wonder just how obvious he was. He didn't remember staring at Pen, not for very long at any rate, although he would have to be dead not to have noticed the beautiful young man. He couldn't deny that Pen was gorgeous. Small and delicate, with wavy pale blond hair and piercing green eyes, he nonetheless didn't look too feminine. There was enough angularity to his facial features to save him from that, along with understated strength in his slender body.

Dear God, he must have been staring to notice all that. Simon wondered who else might have noticed. The thought made him uncomfortable and he shifted in his seat. In this day and age, being gay didn't hold the same stigma as in his father's day, when people hid their sexual preference if it was different from the majority of the population. The term 'being in the closet' was almost unheard of, unless your name was Simon Rousseau and the only son of Antoine and Marie Rousseau. His parents' fondest wish was for him to provide them with at least three grandchildren to love and spoil.

He needed to do something to make sure Ryan believed his assumption was incorrect. Because Ryan's assumption was incorrect. He might stare at Penlan Taylor Sealey, but it wasn't in a way that said 'I want you'; more like 'You represent what I want, even if it isn't you'. Possibilities came and went, none feeling just right, until he said the only thing he could: Deny, deny, deny.

"I appreciate beauty in all its forms, Ryan, and I'll admit your husband is beautiful. It's nothing more than that, though, I assure you. My parents are artists and I trained as an artist for several years, therefore I see objects and people in the way they can be brought to canvas."

It was kind of weak, but he couldn't explain it any clearer, even to himself. When he looked at Pen, it was as though he was expecting something or someone else to be there. Ryan apparently didn't think much of his explanation either, although the arrival of Pen and the two other ladies interrupted anything else he might have said.

******

Simon and Carlie Simmonds, Ryan's partner at the FDPA, were keeping watch on a nightclub in the warehouse district. When the reports first came in, neither one of the agencies could pin down anything about such a club. Night and Day apparently only opened on certain days and at certain times, with no discernible pattern they could fathom. Most of their information came by way of an anonymous tipster, who always called them about an hour before the club opened its doors.


A Taste of Home Ch. 02



Micah lay in the bed of the motel room he'd rented and stared at the ceiling. It was time for him to get up and get ready to meet his cousin, but all he could do was remember the man, Simon, he met at the club two nights ago. The taste of him still tingled on Micah's tongue, as though he'd only fed from the man moments ago. He had never – never – tasted anything like it in his life. It tasted of all the regular things, of copper and man and life, but it also tasted of...

His mind skittered away from that last word. He couldn't allow himself to think of it, not after having seen the man for a grand total of 30 minutes. At most. There was no way of knowing if he would ever even see the guy again. He had no way of finding him, not with only a first name to go by, and he couldn't be the only man with the name Simon in town.

There might be a chance if he had a last name or some idea about what the man did for a living. Hell, Simon might not even be his real name, although it seemed that if it was a fake name, he would have chosen something a little more generic.

Blowing out a lungful of air in frustration, Micah rolled out of bed and went to take a shower. He turned on the water as hot as he could stand and stood beneath the spray. There were more important things to do than dwell on some random hookup from a club. Never mind that he usually didn't pick guys up for sex, even when he looked for a feeder. After all, Simon had been fairly selfish about the whole exchange, except at the very beginning. Those odd moments of hesitancy were strange as well, as though even while enjoying himself, he wanted to be anywhere but in the room.

Explanations and excuses crowded through his mind as he went about washing and then drying himself. Maybe Simon had never been with a man before. No, that couldn't be right, because even with the hesitancy, there was knowledge there. The man had played him well even while being selfish. So, Simon was involved with someone else. That one was a possibility, and even while he tried to dismiss it, he couldn't without some kind of proof.

"Stop thinking about it, you goof. If you ever see him again, fine, but until then you have other things to take care of."

Great, now he was talking to himself. Out loud. Best not do that when he was out in public or he would get strange looks, in addition to the ones he often got because he was a nightwalker. Things weren't too bad in Rutherford. He'd endured worse at home and while travelling than in the three days since arriving here.

Micah moved to stand in front of the mock closet and stared at his choices. Why on earth had he brought so much blue and black? He moved things around, wanting something light and non-threatening for his meeting with Pen. There, he found a nice white shirt with blue pinstriping almost hidden by his black jacket. Paired with some black pants, not jeans for this initial meeting, he would look nice and non-threatening.

Non-threatening. He should be non-threatening no matter what he wore. People automatically assumed that, since he was a nightwalker, he was dangerous to them. Nothing could be further from the truth, even if he was unbound. Being a straight-line descendant, born rather than turned, he could control his urges. To pacify the regular humans, his family had agreed to bind themselves. In a way, his old boss was right, the binding didn't really affect him as much as the others but he would still die if he broke it. Just because he didn't need the binding, didn't mean it didn't work.

Before leaving his motel room, Micah picked up the phone to call his mother. She should be settled into her new place by now. He waited impatiently, needing to hear her voice and be sure she liked it. That was his greatest worry, that she had rushed her decision would hate living in the assisted living facility.

"Hello?"

"Hi Mom, it's me. How are you?"

"Micah!" There was nothing in her voice except pleasure at hearing from him. He relaxed more and leaned his head against the wall. "I'm just fine, settling in nicely. There are some wonderful people here, even a few old friends I'd lost contact with. I know you were worried, but there's no need."

"I'm so glad, Mom. You're right, I was worried, up until I heard your voice. I'm about to go meet my cousin, but wanted to check in first. Is there anything you can think of that isn't in the documents I read?

There was a long moment of silence, so long that Micah was afraid he'd lost the connection. Finally, he heard a soft intake of breath and continued to wait for his mother to be ready. "Only one thing. Something I never told you, either. It might not be relevant to Pen, since he is also part daywalker, but it won't hurt to bring it up, just in case. It's nothing bad, so don't worry about that. It's actually quite wonderful.

"When I met your father, the attraction was instant, but neither one of us figured it would be anything more than physical. Something happened after he fed from me that we didn't expect. Ghislain told me it was a rare thing to happen. When he fed, he said I tasted like home. I didn't feel that, really, but I did feel something. He said it was to let us know we were meant to be together. Not that we had to be together, you understand, only that we were meant to be. We both could have decided to go our own way and nothing dire would have happened. We would never have been as happy with anyone else, but we would have found a different kind of love and happiness."

Fuck. Shit. Now that his mother had said it, he couldn't keep it from his mind. The thought he'd refused to allow earlier slammed back into his conscious mind and refused to budge. Simon tasted like home. He hadn't wanted to acknowledge it, but now he had no choice. He and the man he'd met, fucked and fed from were somehow linked. Thank God it wasn't like those stories of soulmates. He could be happy about that at least.

"Thanks, Mom, but it probably won't come up. All we really know about Pen is that he's half nightwalker and half daywalker. The two sides probably cancel each other out."

"Maybe so, but the blood and genetics are still there. Actually, I'm not sure why I brought it up, just that I felt like I should." Micah heard a faint knock from his mother's end of the phone and knew their time was over. "I've got someone knocking at the door. Call me again soon and let me know how things are going."

"I will. Love you."

"Love you too, Micah. Bye."

How strange how his mother had decided to tell him that little tidbit of information now of all times. They'd often had long conversations on all possible topics, even times when he begged for stories about her and his father, and she'd never breathed a word. So why now, after having met Simon and thought about the unique taste, did she have to speak those damnable words? It couldn't be coincidence.

It would take about twenty minutes to walk over to the address he had for Pen. He could have been there in about five if he used his speed, or taken a cab, but it was a beautiful night and he needed to think about things. Not about Simon, though. Thoughts of Simon and his taste had to wait for another time. No, tonight he wanted to think about his grandfather, Johan and get the information straight in his mind.

Johan only visited his family once, that he could remember. At seven, Micah knew even then that the older nightwalker wasn't very nice. He looked Micah up and down with his lip curled and didn't look at him again directly for the rest of the visit. They looked similar, with white-blond hair and pale skin, but Johan was taller. Johan, and his son Ghislain, both measured at least six three, and their frames were much bulkier. According to Micah's father, Pen's father Kylen was somewhere in between. Ghislain estimated Kylen at just under six feet and more slender than his brother.

Twice, while eavesdropping before entering a room, Micah heard himself referred to as 'the useless runt'. He hadn't been eavesdropping to learn anything, but only to know whether he should enter a room or not. The less time spent in the same space with his grandfather, the better. He had learned some things, however. Things he kept to himself and didn't let on that he knew about.

Johan and someone named Blake wanted to contact some sort of professor to help them with a chemical analysis. What they wanted to analyze was a mystery to the young Micah, but the older Micah now figured it was to kill daywalkers. Something about making the daywalkers burn like nightwalkers. It would take time, Johan snorted, but time was something he had plenty of. Even though Johan was nearly two hundred and fifty, he declared himself too important in the grand scheme of things only to live to three hundred. He would live forever.

Micah paused at a street corner. A quick look at the name told him he was only a few minutes away from his destination but that didn't matter. He finally remembered something else he heard from his grandfather. Not something he told his son, but something he talked about on the phone to the anonymous Blake. Micah wasn't trying to listen that time, but he was in the bathroom and the phone conversation took place on the other side of the wall, the raised voice clear as a bell.

"It will work. I tell you it will. Once we get rid of the daywalkers, the false nightwalkers will be next and then we of the pure line will finally live forever. No more limited lifespan, we both know that. We die from the disgust we feel for the usurpers. You just get in touch with that Silversmith guy, Blake, and leave the rest to me."

******

Penlan Taylor ground his hips down, feeling himself full of his lover's cock. There wasn't much in his life he loved more than riding Ryan, and he had a feeling Ryan felt much the same way. It was their favorite position, had been since they started their life together. They didn't always make love this way, not by a long shot, but it was definitely their favorite position.

"So close, so close," he whimpered, head falling back. He started to reposition himself, needing to get one hand off Ryan and onto his aching, throbbing prick.

Ryan thrust up hard and Pen grabbed hold again as he shuddered at the sensation against his prostate. Ryan grinned and stroked his lover's hip. "From me, babe; come just from me."

He wailed, unwilling to go against the order but needing more to gain the release he so desperately craved. Barely able to think, Pen almost threw himself forward to press his mouth to Ryan's. He wanted the kiss, certainly, but it also trapped his erection between their bellies. The rough friction from the hairs on Ryan's body was all that Pen needed and he screamed, jerking as heat erupted from his body between them.

His channel clamped down so tight on the welcome intruder that Ryan cried out and gave in to his own orgasm. They clung to each other, devouring and kissing until they were spent and limp. Pen nuzzled against Ryan's cheek, murmuring words of love. They stayed that way until Ryan's softened cock slipped out.

"I love you so much, Ryan. Thank God our supper was already cooked when you got home or we might have been interrupted by the fire department."

Ryan laughed and tightened his arms around the small, slim body. "I love you, too. So much I can't even put it into words." He had more to say to his beautiful husband, but the doorbell intruded and brought forth groans from both men. "I'll get the door, if you want to rest some more. I'm sure our supper will keep for a little while longer."

He wiped himself off with one of the towels they kept on hand in the bedroom and pulled on a pair of sweatpants. Pen apparently decided he was getting up as well, but moved to the closet to find a better outfit. Nope, he wanted the silk robe Joey bought him at Christmas. That would be a distraction when they ate their supper as soon as Ryan took care of whoever was at the door.

Hi picked up their discarded clothing from the hallway as he made his way to the door, shaking his head at the thought of what the person would think if he didn't tidy up. Tossing the pile on the floor behind the door, Ryan opened the door and just stopped. He stared incomprehensibly at the sight of Pen standing there, fully dressed.

It didn't take long for the realization that this was a stranger to hit. The face was eerily similar, but there were a few differences. The nose was straight rather than slightly turned up at the end. The eyes were blue rather than green. This man was also a bit taller, no more than an inch or two, and almost, but not quite, as slender. He kept staring, until he saw the discomfort on the man's face. Some part of his mind knew the man had spoken, even the voice nearly identical to Pen's, but the words didn't penetrate. He caught sight of the fangs, proclaiming this man to be a nightwalker.

"Who the Hell are you?" Ryan winced at the way his question came out, harsh and accusing, but he was too shocked for anything else.

"Um, my name is Micah Taylor. I'm sorry to bother you. I thought my cousin, Penlan Taylor, lived here. This is the address the computer gave me."

"Ryan? Who's at the door?" A pause when Pen peered curiously around Ryan's arm. "Oh my God! Who are you?"

Micah saw nothing but shock and confusion on the men's faces. He felt some shock himself when he finally saw Pen. It was almost like looking in a mirror. The differences were minor, easily overlooked except through long-familiarity. He reached up with a hand to rub at the skin between his eyebrows, unconsciously doing what his mother used to when he was unsure and uncomfortable.

"I, uh, wow this is kind of strange. Your father, Kylen, and my father, Ghislain, were brothers. My father wanted to get in touch a few years ago, but he...died and I had to take care of my mother and sister. We finally decided it was time when I got fired from my job, so, um, here I am."

God, it sounded so lame. He felt nervous and exposed standing out here in the hallway, with those green and gold eyes staring at him. As if he was some strange creature that appalled them. Of course. He was obviously a nightwalker and they probably couldn't imagine why he was here, expecting to be welcomed. He was so stupid.

Mumbling an apology for bothering them, Micah turned and hurried away. Coming in person this first time was obviously a mistake. He should have called first, explained who he was and given a little bit of information on why they needed to meet. It might not have been a problem if he and Pen weren't nearly identical copies of one another. That was just too weird. From the pictures he'd seen, even though their fathers looked alike, the similarities weren't so strong. It was easy to see that Kylen and Ghislain were brothers, but they didn't look like twins.

The strangest desire came over him as he rushed out of the building onto the street. He wanted to scream out for Simon. His heart demanded that he find his Simon and grab hold of him. Simon would hold him and make him feel better, as well as help him see which path to take.

It was ridiculous. Simon was nothing to him; he was nothing to Simon. Whatever he thought he felt, or tasted, it was only his imagination. The last time he fed was a few days before leaving his mother behind and coming to Rutherford. That must be why he thought he tasted something special from Simon. The man was nothing but a great fuck. A selfish one, at that.

"Micah! Wait, you don't have to go, you just surprised us. Please, come back upstairs and we'll talk."

He looked around and saw that Ryan had followed him down and was waiting in the building's entrance. Micah wasn't sure what to do. He did want to get to know his cousin, but he felt that maybe doing so in public would be better. Whatever else, it was clear that Pen had inherited none of the nightwalker attributes. That was probably because of his daywalker mother.

It was strange how the daywalker genes overpowered the nightwalker traits in Uncle Kylen's son. His grandfather Johan wouldn't like to learn about that! He believed that nightwalkers were the superior species, especially nightwalkers of the pure line.

"I didn't think about how intrusive it would be to just show up on your doorstep. Neither you nor Pen had any idea of my existence. My father said he and his brother thought it best not to maintain contact because of, well, because of their father."

"Come upstairs," Ryan repeated, smiling and holding out a hand in invitation. "I'm sure by now that Pen is working himself into a tizzy, worried about you and what you'll think of his behavior."

Just like that, Micah returned to the apartment building. It wasn't like him to give up control. His mother always said he was more likely to dig in his heels than to go with the flow. Right then, however, he was too uncertain to do more than follow along behind the larger man. Who was he? All signs pointed to his being Pen's lover, but he knew as well as anyone else that sometimes appearances could be deceiving. Didn't people automatically assume he was a danger because he was a nightwalker? Not many took the time to get to know him as a person.

Pen, the cousin he'd come to see, had taken the time to get dressed in a pair of tight jeans and an old, ratty sweater that obviously belonged to someone much bigger. Surprisingly, it suited the small man.

"Oh good, you're back. I'm sorry for our poor manners, but seeing you there, looking so much like me, was a shock."

Pen looked worried, even as he reached out to draw his doppelganger inside the apartment. "It was a shock for me as well, to tell you the truth. Well, my name is Micah Taylor and I'm your cousin. I travelled here from Toronto, in Canada, to meet you and bring you some information on our family."

"I'm Penlan Taylor Sealey, and this is my husband, Ryan Sealey. We've been married a little more than a year now." They moved into the kitchen, Ryan excusing himself to get dressed. "My father never mentioned anything about having a brother, or any kind of family, actually."

"That's what they agreed upon, or so my mother and father always told me. There were, um, problems with their father. Our grandfather, Johan Tilea, who changed the family name to Taylor when he moved the family to the Americas, is not a very nice man. My father was getting ready to come and find you and your family when Grandfather got angry and threw him out a window at midday. He died immediately, of course. That was about two years ago now."

"My father died about four years ago. He was bound by my mother, and then later by my aunt. One day he invited me out to dine at a restaurant, where he attacked me. The moment his fangs pierced my flesh, he burned and died."

Micah frowned at the information. "Bound twice? And he attacked you? What in the world? Your mother was supposed to get in touch with us if anything happened to him."

"Pen's mother was not very nice," Ryan commented as he strolled back into the kitchen. "She abused both Pen and his father and her family took her away when Pen was, I believe, about fourteen. We're not sure why his aunt bound him again, because nothing weakens a binding, that we know of."

"I don't understand. My mother and Eleane Pritchard were childhood friends. They grew up together. My mother always went on about how wonderful and sweet Eleane was, standing up for anyone who was in trouble and even giving up her prized possessions to make others happy. I'll ask Mom next time I call her if she knows what could have happened."

The conversation moved to other subjects without any conscious decision on the matter. While his hosts ate their supper, Micah contented himself with picking at a slice of bread and drinking a glass of juice. His body could handle solids, but he didn't indulge too often if he'd recently fed. Two days should be enough for him to have the beginning twinges of craving, even if he could go several weeks, but he still felt as full as if he'd fed only hours earlier.




A Taste of Home Ch. 02



Pen and Ryan were intrigued when they learned that he could stand daylight for most of the day and asked many questions. All pure-line nightwalkers could go about during the day, even if they mostly refrained from doing so. That Kylen hadn't revealed this information to his wife and child was a little disturbing. As was the fact that Kylen didn't touch food or drink at all.

Was it possible that he was different from Ghislain and Micah? Try as he might, Micah couldn't remember his grandfather's behavior during his visit. Had he eaten with Ghislain, Sara and Micah? No, he'd sat at the table with them but hadn't indulged himself in front of Micah at all. Nor had he left the house when there was even a hint of sunlight in the sky. It made him wonder if perhaps only he and his father were able to stand the sun.

Removing the storage disk from his pocket, on which he transferred all the documents his father gathered for Pen, Micah laid it upon the table. He explained its purpose, saying it was information on the family and of their line, as well as Johan's beliefs and work at bringing down those he disliked. He didn't come right out and say Johan wanted to destroy daywalkers; that could come later, after Pen and Ryan reviewed the information.

"I do have a question for you," he said, looking at his mirror-image, still a little disoriented. "Although you have half the nightwalker genes, I detect no visible signs at all. I can't seem to wrap my head around it."

Pen launched into a detailed explanation about the trial at the Rutherford MedLabs and the injections he received, which effectively destroyed all trace of daywalker and nightwalker genes from his body's makeup. The more he heard, the more uneasy Micah became. He remembered again the bits of conversation he overheard as a child, of his grandfather talking to a man named Blake.

Could his grandfather, Blake and the man named Silversmith have developed a substance to carry out the plan? If so, it was a success, and that made Johan Tilea an extremely dangerous man. He opened his mouth to tell Ryan about it and found that he couldn't. He wanted to, but the words couldn't come out.

His eyes fell on a sticker on the door of the refrigerator and found that he couldn't look away. His eyes were as out of his control as his mouth was a moment earlier and a deep sense of unease filled him. Inside, he felt panic and fear, but on the outside, he showed only calm assuredness. He made his excuses, saying that there were other appointments and errands for him to run. They exchanged the niceties of leave-taking, during which he was nothing more than a passenger, there but only observing. Something – or someone – else speaking all the appropriate words.

All the way down the stairs, for some reason he bypassed the elevator, Micah tried to fight the compulsion to move. Nothing helped. He couldn't even pause for a moment during his descent. Several attempts to control his body, to do something as mundane as scratching his nose, failed. Tears of frustration filled his eyes and he screamed silently in the recesses of his mind.

The sensation of moving, without knowing the destination, was the strangest one he'd ever known. Micah couldn't fathom where he was going, which direction his feet would take once he was outside the building where he had met and conversed with his cousin and his cousin's husband. A sick feeling of despair began as he realized he was going to walk straight out into the street. There was less traffic than there would be during rush hour, but it was still a busy thoroughfare, very little chance for him to walk out and avoid being struck by one of the many vehicles.

Moments before Micah would have stepped off the sidewalk, he found himself stopped and physically turned around. There, to his eyes the most wonderful savior, was Simon. Whatever the compulsion that moved him, it vanished almost before he could blink and he sagged, all strength drained from him. Strong arms held him up. Micah stared in wonder into the worried face of the black-haired, brown-eyed man. Oddly enough, the first thought that popped up was that Simon had the same coloring as his sister. Laughter bubbled up at his errant comparison before he succumbed to the darkness.

When Micah opened his eyes again, he found himself inside a car. Strange. The last thing he remembered for certain was sitting in the kitchen with Pen and Ryan. Vaguely he recalled walking down some stairs and out of the building, but he didn't really remember. The images were like images seen through a curtain over a lighted window at night. You could guess what was happening, but nothing was clear.

"What the Hell happened to me?"

There was no immediate answer and he sat up to look around. Alone in the car, Micah frowned and blinked a few times, just in case his vision was faulty and there were really half a dozen people around him. When no one magically appeared, he looked out through the windshield and found that the car was parked in front of a convenience store.

Whose car was this and why was he lying on the back seat? Had he gone somewhere with Pen and Ryan and fallen asleep? That didn't seem too likely, since it was nighttime and a nightwalker had to be very tired to fall asleep at night. Having slept all day, he definitely hadn't been tired.

He reached out for the door handle, figuring he could stand outside and see who came out of the store. If it was someone other than his cousin, a stranger, then he could easily make his escape. Before he managed to grab hold of the handle, however, he smelled a familiar fragrance and relaxed back against the seat. Now he knew whose car this was. Simon. His wonderful Simon. With a sigh and a tingling low in his belly, Micah closed his eyes and enjoyed a moment of happiness. He was with Simon and he was as safe as he could be.

The door opened suddenly and he looked directly into concerned brown eyes. Micah's heartbeat doubled and he felt his breath catch in his throat. As attracted as he was, Micah suddenly wasn't sure he was happy about it. It seemed much too soon for him to be this into the guy, so utterly and completely captivated by him.

"Good, you're awake. I got you a bottle of water in case you need it."

"Thank you," he whispered, uneasy yet unable to look away. "What happened? How did I get into your car?"

"I was at an ATM and saw you come out of the building. There was something off about your expression and you seemed to have been crying. When I saw you going directly for the street, I went over to see if there was something wrong. You fainted, so I carried you to my car and drove here. If I'd known who you were visiting in the building I would have rung them, but..."

Micah frowned and tried to reconcile the story with his memories, but couldn't remember any of that. "I don't know what...The last thing I remember was visiting with my cousin and his husband. I don't remember anything else until I woke up in the car a couple of minutes ago. Thank you."

They sat in the quiet, not talking, until half the water bottle was gone. Something nagged at the edge of Micah's consciousness, a strange feeling that someone was talking to him but he couldn't understand the words. After a while, he asked Simon to take him back to the motel. It wasn't even close to daylight, but he felt unsettled and wanted to be inside somewhere. Micah figured that even though it was the middle of the night, he would call his mother again and talk to her about what he was feeling. She might have some insight, having experienced a lot of stuff with his father and the family.

Simon raised his eyebrow when he heard where Micah was staying. It was a seedy place, backing onto an abandoned industrial area. Micah smirked at the worry, saying that even without biting, he could defend himself against any regular humans who tried to attack him, and being bound didn't prevent him from biting other nightwalkers.

That information surprised Simon. He'd never thought of it one way or the other, but he didn't think nightwalkers would attack one another. Now that Micah brought it up, however, Simon saw that it had its own kind of logic. More questions came up, one after another, but he kept them to himself. He didn't want to take a chance on insulting Micah, who looked somewhat tired, purple bruises staining the translucent skin beneath blue eyes.

"You don't look well, Micah," he commented, keeping his tone soft so he didn't cause offense. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I think so, just a little...drained. I wish I could remember what happened to me. Maybe I'll sleep until tomorrow night and I'll feel better." His hands trembled so much that he couldn't manage to open the door and he cursed beneath his breath.

All the energy that had filled him earlier while getting ready to go meet with Pen was gone. His body craved blood as though he hadn't fed in months, something that only happened to him once or twice in the past. He figured he would look up a blood bar and go out as soon as he was alone, which would let him keep awake until mid-morning at least. Sleeping all night and all day would help, but that wasn't something he liked to do. It left him feeling unbalanced and out of sorts.

Simon came and opened the door for him, reaching in to help him to his feet. Micah swayed and almost fell, his legs weak and unsteady. What was wrong with him? His longest stretch without feeding was almost five months and even then, he hadn't felt as bad as he did now. Whimpering in fear, he clutched at Simon's shoulders the same way a drowning man will grab onto anything that comes into sight.

"Do you need to feed? If that's the problem, you're more than welcome to feed from me. I always thought it was a painful process, but I didn't mind it."

"It can be painful," Micah said with a smile, "depending on the mood of the nightwalker. I've never felt the need to cause pain when it can be so pleasurable for both parties. I could feed, but I don't know if it's a good idea to feed from you again so soon."

He didn't say if it was a bad idea for Simon or for himself, mainly because he didn't know the answer. In truth, Simon's rich – familiar, damn it – blood filled him so perfectly that only a little was necessary. There was no danger of draining the man, even if he fed twice in one day. It was the unknown quantity, the familiarity of the taste, that made him reluctant. Still, feeding would put him to rights quickly. Blood bars were convenient, but he didn't really like frequenting them. At home, he had a few friends and acquaintances who were more than happy to indulge him when needed.

A few moments of indecision and he gave in. It was a foregone conclusion, of course. Simon's offer sounded too good for him to refuse. Almost before he finished nodding his acquiescence, Simon leaned in and started kissing him, hard and deep. If he were a better person, he would pull back and say that sex wasn't necessary and the pleasure would still be great. Still, who was he to say no to sex? Was there any man out there who would say no to sex with a partner as handsome and desirable as Simon was?

Micah found the strength to release his hold on Simon's shoulders and drop them, eager to remove the barrier of his pants. The instant he was bare, his soft black pants around his thighs, unable to fall further because of the spread of his legs, he undid the button and zipper of the jeans his savior, his lover, wore. He didn't push them down, just pushed them open, before removing his mouth from the searing kiss. As much as he might want to keep on kissing, he needs his mouth to feed.

Whispering words of reassurance, he let his fangs lengthen and sharpen, waiting a beat for Simon to tilt his head in acquiescence. He couldn't wait for a verbal acceptance, even though he was aware of the dangers of assuming too much. A moan of pleasure escaped as the first splash of hot blood filled his mouth. Once more, the taste of copper and sweet life exploded on his tongue, joined immediately by that other, sweeter taste. He was right; it is home and love, as powerful as the most explosive substance in the world.

A few swallows were all Micah needed to feel completely recharged, and he gently disengaged, licking up all trace and closing the small punctures. In some movies, the teeth marks were large and bloody, left to bleed once the nightwalker (or, in the old days, vampire) finished feeding. In reality, they were little more than what one would receive from a syringe; small pricks fading with the healing saliva applied.

They were still in the parking space in front of Micah's motel room, but neither man was conscious of the fact. They were out in the open and uncaring that they would be in private by walking half a dozen steps to the door. Luckily, Micah's room sat around the side of the motel, bathed in darkness thanks to a burnt light. This place couldn't afford the new lighting system most places now used, keeping to the old sodium posts and electricity. Unless someone parked or passed very nearby, they were virtually invisible.

Micah found himself turned and shoved face down over the trunk of the car. Simon pressed down on him, one hand stroking his side while his mouth played havoc on his earlobe. Simon pushed down his jeans with his other hand just enough to free his cock. A few quick pulls spread the slickness already leaking from his slit.

Micah whined when Simon lifted himself off, but it wasn't for long. Simon simply moved back enough to do what his body craved. His foot nudged Micah's legs further apart, and Micah adjusted his position, lifting his ass to be more easily accessible.

His clothes felt uncomfortable and he wanted to be rid of them. They felt hot and sticky from the sweat that covered his skin as he waited for the push that would see him filled. A hiss of discomfort escaped as the rigid staff entered his passage, spreading him with little regard to his pleasure. He fought against the urge to scramble away, biting his lip to keep any complaints or cries inside. It would get better in a moment, if Simon just kept still for a moment.

"I'm sorry...I...I couldn't help..."

Simon stayed still, thankfully, and Micah breathed until his body relaxed against the intruder. "I know. Just give me a minute." His body was quick to heal, so he wasn't too worried. "Now, move now and fuck me."

"God, you look incredible, stretched out over my car with my cock in your ass."

Shivers chased up and down Micah's spine. He stretched his arms up over his head as he lay on the cool surface of the trunk. There was no purchase for his fingers, which curled helplessly. The feel of that hard cock dragging out, the short pause as it stayed still poised just inside his tight ring and then the hard thrust combined to make Micah clamp down on his lower lip. Even if he didn't care, he didn't want to be too noisy out here in the open. Rising up on his toes, he squeezed his inner muscles as tight as he could while circling his hips.

Again and again, his body accepted the hard thrusts, demanding more and harder contact. Flesh slapped against flesh, pushing him further toward the edge of release. Micah knew he wouldn't last long, yet he wanted something more. His position prevented him from reaching down to his cock, his body rocking helplessly, yet it rubbed with painful pleasure against the curve of the vehicle. That wasn't what was missing.

With the little leeway left to him, Micah altered the tilt of his body and finally the invading cockhead nudged his prostate as it moved in and out. That was it! That was the final stimulation he needed and he erupted, spilling his juices out onto the car and his own body.

Vaguely he felt Simon join him in climax, coating his inner passage with come. It was as amazing, if not more so, than their encounter in the club. Still, just like then, Micah was aware that for Simon, this had been about his own pleasure. Likely, it was little more than the feeding that made Simon too intent to do more than just fuck. He remembered at the club, when the feeding came at the end, and didn't know what to think anymore.

There shouldn't be anything for him to complain about, Micah mused, since selfish or not, he thought their coupling incredible and more than satisfying. His legs were like jelly, his muscles were limp and the tremors of a fantastic orgasm still made him shudder at random intervals.

"I think we should go inside," he murmured, trying to gather up enough energy to move. "You're welcome to come in and use the shower if you'd like."

"I'd love to come inside. Would you mind...I mean, would it be all right if I stayed for more than a shower?"

Simon sounded tentative and Micah looked over. Those dark eyes, black in the night, seemed to bore right into his soul. In them, Micah allowed himself to see desire and maybe even a little tenderness. Not love, it was much too soon for that emotion, but something that might become love at some point if allowed to flourish.

"That sounds like an excellent idea. I won't need to sleep for several hours yet, and some company would be nice." It was barely midnight, which left them with more than six hours together, although Simon would likely need some sleep at some point during the night. "Yes, the company would be wonderful."



A Taste of Home Ch. 03



Two weeks passed, with Simon's days divided along clear lines. He put in a full day at work, either in the office or by chasing down leads, followed by a quick shower and change of clothes at home. Afterwards, he met up with Micah and they spent the evening and part of the night together.

It would have suited him to simply go to Micah's motel and have them fall into bed, but Micah insisted on them going out to eat. Even now, two weeks later, Simon had trouble accepting that he was seeing another man. He wouldn't call what they had a relationship, exactly, but right now it was the most intense thing he'd ever known.

He was also learning a lot about nightwalkers during their dinner conversations. For example, he never knew before that not all nightwalkers could breed. Only a few families could sire children. Micah believed there were seven or eight families in the world with that ability, no more. So far as he knew, the men of the Taylor branch were the only ones who ever sired more than one nightwalker child in a generation. Incredibly, only male children were nightwalkers. No female nightwalker had ever been born in their recorded history, which stretched back almost as far as the bible itself. Sometimes, a single nightwalker could have many sisters. Micah had one sister, while Kylen and Ghislain, Pen and Micah's fathers, had six sisters.

A nightwalker who was born could eat regular food, as well as go out in daylight, except for certain hours, while a nightwalker who was turned could not. It was fascinating, to think he was getting information that most people didn't have.

In exchange, Simon didn't give Micah as much information. He was vague about his family, other than to say he had no siblings and only a few other far-flung relatives he barely ever saw. When Micah tried to pry further, Simon changed the subject. Micah never pushed, although lately Simon saw that his tactics weren't fooling the man and that it bothered him not to have the same open answers he gave.

"Hey, Simon, I have to say that you look exhausted." Simon looked up at Jimmy and shrugged at the true statement. "She must be something else in bed, because I've never seen you this tired."

"She? Sorry to burst your bubble, Jimmy, but it's nothing like that. Just haven't been able to sleep much lately."

"Aww, my man, that's brutal. If you have to be exhausted, it should be because of a chick with a body that just won't quit." Jimmy sat at the next desk, which he used when the two of them worked as partners on a case. "You could have brought her to the dinner tonight. Remember, attendance is strongly recommended, unless we're on duty. Neither of us is, so we have to be there."

Shit, Simon had completely forgotten about that. Twice a year, the NCB and FDPA hosted a fancy dinner at the Grand Regent Hotel for its agents. Only an urgent case excused agents from attending, or those who had to remain on duty in case something came in. That duty generally fell to new agents, with one ranking agent to coordinate. He needed to find a date for the night, because going on his own would be hell. Who could he ask?

His first thought was to call Micah, but he quickly discarded that idea. No way was he about to show up with a man on his arm. It was only paranoia, but he was sure if he did that, his parents would find out somehow. They lived across the country and they didn't know anyone other than him in Rutherford, and he still felt they would know. Mentally sorting through the women he wouldn't mind escorting, he decided Audrey was his best choice. They had parted ways as friends, and she was always willing to get together. They always had a good time when they met up.

He picked up the phone and dialed her number, hoping that she wasn't busy. Since this was a Thursday, he might just be in luck. She'd been his date at last year's dinner and seemed like she'd enjoyed herself.

"Hey Audrey, this is Simon. How are you, Chérie?"

"Simon! It's been ages. I'm fine and glad to hear your voice, especially speaking that sexy French. What can I do for you, Hon?"

He almost asked his request in French, knowing she had a thing for the language, but couldn't quite bring himself to do that. "The Bureau dinner is tonight, and I hoped you were free to come with me. I know it's short notice, but I completely forgot it was this month. As soon as Jimmy reminded me, you came to mind." Simon knew she wouldn't be insulted.

"I'd love to! I'm not seeing anyone seriously lately, so being your date won't be a problem. How about you, not seeing anyone either?"

"Not really. My last girlfriend broke up with me a couple of weeks ago after a four-month relationship. Couldn't take the work and the hours. Of course, things have been really slow since then. Go figure."

"That sucks, Simon." His job wasn't the reason his relationship with Audrey ended. They simply were better suited as friends with benefits when the occasion arose. It worked for them and that was fine. "Thank me in French and I'll be ready to go, and ready to dazzle, at six-thirty."

"Merci, mon ange. À ce soir."

******

Micah stretched and rolled over to look at the clock. Just after five in the afternoon. He had about an hour before the earliest he could expect Simon to show up at his door. Biting at his lip, he flopped back onto the pillow and wondered what to do. The past two weeks had been amazing. Every few days, he spent a couple of hours with Pen in the early morning, before his cousin went to work. They talked about the information contained in the documents Micah's father had collected, especially about their grandfather's plans to get rid of daywalkers. That information they passed on to Ryan, who used them to open an investigation with the FDPA. They were proceeding carefully, so Johan didn't suspect anything until they had enough evidence.

Other times, their conversations were about the difficulties Micah encountered in Canada in his work. Pen was outraged at the way Micah was fired from his last job, almost ordering Ryan to talk to his supervisors about starting a branch to help protect nightwalkers against that kind of discrimination. It only angered him more when Ryan and Micah pointed out that even if Ryan did so, it wouldn't change things up in Canada. Nonetheless, the passion Pen showed in wanting to help Micah only made Micah love him more.

When he left Pen and Ryan, if Ryan wasn't already gone to work, Micah returned to the motel to sleep until late afternoon. Then he showered and dressed, and spent most of the night with Simon. That part bothered Micah the most. While he was with Simon, things always seemed wonderful. When they were apart, especially right after waking up, his doubts crowded in.

Dinner was always enjoyable, even if it was always at his insistence. They sat and ate in nice restaurants, talking about countless subjects. Even though most of the sharing was one-sided, they had other topics to keep things moving. He understood that sometimes talking about family wasn't easy for some people, especially virtual strangers, and tried not to let it bother him.

They got back to the motel and that was when things became...more bothersome. When they kissed and touched each other, both men were on equal footing, giving and receiving pleasure without hesitation. Then Simon asked, begged even, for Micah to feed from him. At first, Micah tried to demur, saying that it wasn't a good idea to feed too often from the same feeder, but after the first few days, he knew that it was pointless. He drank just enough for Simon to feel it, then pulled away.

Simon then invariably positioned him for sex, many times not even taking the time to prepare Micah. Their coupling was fast and furious, all for Simon's pleasure, even if Micah also found completion. Later, once they were rested, it was time for another round. Sometimes this took place in the shower, always with Simon urging Micah down to his knees for a blowjob. He never returned the favor. By midnight, sometimes one in the morning, Simon excused himself to go home and get some sleep before he had to go to work in the morning.

"I have to figure this out," he spoke out loud to the empty room. "I have to figure it out before it's too late for me."

How to figure it out was still a mystery. Every time he tasted Simon's blood, he knew it would be harder to get away or stop. Simon was his, the certainty increasing with each swallow. Fuck, he just didn't know what to do anymore. Maybe he could talk to Pen about this, without naming names, although it wasn't likely the two knew each other. After all, if Simon knew Pen, he would have mentioned the strong resemblance between the two men right from the beginning.

Somewhat decided on a course of action, Micah rolled out of bed and picked up his phone. There were two messages, one from Pen and one from Simon. His mother hadn't called in more than a week, saying that she planned on being very busy and would call him, rather than have him call and not reach her. Getting worried, he promised himself to call her in the morning if she still hadn't gotten in touch. Jenny's schedule was unknown to him, so he needed to wait on their mother.

Pen called to invite him out to some dinner given by Ryan's Agency. Micah didn't know whether he should go or not. He didn't have anything appropriate to wear for something like that. Of course, it would give him an excuse to stay away from Simon for one night. He might even be able to find time to talk about the whole Simon situation with Pen at some point.

The second message, from Simon, decided him to accept the invitation to join Pen and Ryan. Simon apologized, saying that he had a previous appointment that he couldn't cancel. He said he would still love to meet with him later, but didn't know when he would get home and should probably go straight home to get some sleep.

The phone rang in his hands and he smiled to see his cousin's name appear. "Hi Pen. I'd love to go to this dinner with you guys. How fancy is this thing, because I really didn't think to pack all my formal wear." His voice made it clear he was teasing, even if there was a thread of seriousness beneath.

"Don't worry about a thing, cousin o'mine. Ryan is on his way to pick you up as we speak. He'll bring you here and I have a few things that should fit you, even if you are a tiny bit bigger than I am. We have almost two hours to make you look absolutely fabulous, in a tasteful, understated way of course."

"That sure of me, were you? Well, you were right; my plans for this evening were cancelled not long after you left your message." Micah smiled at the pleased sound his cousin made over the phone. "I'll shower and dress quickly so Ryan doesn't have to wait for me too long."

Micah jumped into the shower and hurriedly washed himself up. His hair should have plenty of time to dry before they left for the dinner, and if not, he would just dry it later. He chose a pair of ratty jeans and a too-tight shirt for the quick trip to Pen's apartment and went outside to wait for Ryan to pick him up.

Leaning on the wall beside his door, Micah looked up at the sky, still blue with only a few puffy white clouds. He loved summertime, when the days were longer and he enjoyed a semblance of normality. Well, what passed as normal for most people. Micah loved sunlight and often pushed even his own limits to take advantage of it. Even so, his skin reflected no knowledge of the sun. He saw this most clearly when sitting with Pen, whose skin held a honey-tint his own lacked. Micah looked pale and pasty, white and unhealthy. It proclaimed his status more clearly than anything else could.

As a young child, his mother and father lectured him many times on the chances he took with his life. His father often needed to race him home or his skin would have felt the burning kiss of the sun. It took until he was nearly twelve before he understood his limitations. Micah couldn't understand until then that just because he could stand the sun part of the day, didn't mean he was safe all the time. More confusion came when he learned that other nightwalkers couldn't stand even the slightest hint.

Eventually he learned the truth, managed to keep his difference to other nightwalkers a closely guarded secret and didn't take the same kinds of chances. Most of the time. When he went for runs, however, he sometimes still waited until the last possible moment before the dash home.

"Well, if I wasn't seeing it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it," a familiar voice drawled from off to his left, the direction of the main parking lot. Jack sauntered closer, eyes narrowed in anger. "You shouldn't have left me, Micah. You should have known that Becky meant nothing to me compared to you."

What the Hell was fucking Jack Lancelot Miller doing here in Rutherford? Micah took a deep breath and fought to show no reaction after his initial start of surprise. "We were over anyway, Jack. Seeing you with Becky just ensured there wasn't a scene. I got fired from my job and I knew you wouldn't want me around if I wasn't working. You made that clear enough, often enough."

"We were not over. I was charged with keeping watch over you, and I will keep up with my duty until I'm told otherwise." Jack grabbed hold of Micah's arm in a tight grip as he spoke. Micah could have easily shaken him off, but he was too stunned for the moment to think clearly.

"Charged? Who charged you? What are you talking about, Jack?"

"Damn, I shouldn't have said that. It doesn't matter now, I guess. Your grandfather wanted to know about your activities and your location, and he hired me for the job. He doesn't think it wise for you to associate with the riff raff in this town, even if they are relatives. He wishes you home, so you will pack up your things and come with me."

Micah didn't feel that deserved an answer and wrenched his arm away. Although he had no feelings for Jack anymore, the fact that at one time he'd almost loved a man who was with him only because of his grandfather sickened him. Had Jack never felt anything for him at all? Was he only playing a part? Did his grandfather take advantage of an existing relationship, or did he manipulate the whole thing?

Growling deep in his throat, both wanting to know the truth and afraid of hearing what the truth was, Micah stalked towards the front of the building. He hoped Ryan arrived soon so he could leave. Tonight he would check out of the motel and hope that Jack and his grandfather didn't find him again. Perhaps he could convince Ryan to rent the room so nobody could trace him with his name.

His previous association with Jack was his undoing. Jack was not harsh or violent at all during their relationship, which spanned a little more than fifteen months, so he didn't really expect anything. Micah allowed the hand on his arm to turn him about, although he did intend to pull away immediately. What came next, however, shocked him once more into immobility.

Cursing beneath his breath, Jack punched Micah in the stomach, then brought his knee up to clip Micah's chin. The blow caused his teeth to bite into his tongue and the taste of his own blood flooded his mouth. The wounds closed instantly, of course, but the sting of pain lasted longer as he remained doubled over, spitting out the blood instinctively. Fury caused Micah's blood to boil and he slowly straightened, locking his eyes on the man who suddenly took on the aspect of prey.

Micah should have been afraid of the instincts that took him over and demanded he rip out the throat of the pathetic human who dared lay hands on him. He wasn't afraid because those instincts turned him into little more than a monster, overruling the conscience and morals instilled by a lifetime of lessons at the hands of his mother and father.

Perhaps if he saw his reflection, he would have been able to stop his hand, which shot out before either man could blink to wrap itself around Jack's vulnerable throat. His eyes changed reflect the bloodlust overtaking him, bright red bleeding from the pupil to stain the whites. His fangs grew to lengths they'd never known, razor-sharp and ready to rend and tear delicate flesh. His fingernails grew into curved claws, which dimpled the skin beneath them, making sure his prey couldn't escape.

Not even the dreadful hiss, a sound he never made before in his life, penetrated the fog of the beast. Micah brought his arm in, almost dragging Jack towards him, moving slowly to make sure the other knew exactly what was going to happen. The fear and terror in those blue eyes made him want to roar in triumph. That he was bound, certain to die if his fangs broke the skin and tasted blood, didn't enter his mind. 

In all, from the time Jack first punched Micah to the moment the two of them were a breath apart from one another, little more than twenty seconds passed, if that much. Something caught Micah's attention just before he leaned forward the last little bit. He paused, cocking his head to the side to see if he needed to defend his meal from another. What he heard was his name, spoken calmly but with underlying authority. It was enough, barely, to begin bringing him back to himself.

"Micah. Micah, it's Ryan. Please, you don't want to do this. Let him go and let me take care of him for you. I've already called it in and someone will be here very soon. If you do this, you'll die and Pen will never forgive me. Think of your mother and your sister, Micah and let the man go. I saw how he attacked you, I know you're only defending yourself, but you need to calm yourself."

The words wrapped around Micah and began to soothe him. The rapid beat of his heart slowed and the mist of rage drained from his vision. Ryan kept talking, repeating the same words in a chant, talking him down. Micah felt the tenseness drain from his body and allowed his fingers to relax their hold from Jack's throat. Small droplets of blood welled up, but the damage was minimal and would heal quickly. Nearly two minutes passed before Micah felt like himself again and the realization of his actions nearly crushed him.

He wanted to run away. He wanted to rip out his own heart and end his existence. To know how lost to himself he'd been scared him more than he could imagine. Micah didn't run away, or do anything more than fall to his knees and hide his face in his hands. How could he ever trust himself again? What would happen next time he lost his temper, if there was no one around to help him calm down? The only consolation was that if he did lose his temper and tried to attack someone, he would die, hopefully before causing any serious injury.

"Micah, come with me now, I'll take you to Pen so he can fuss over you."

Ryan spoke in a low voice, not afraid of him, not condemning him, and it was too much. With a keening cry, Micah began to cry, throwing himself at his cousin's husband. Those strong arms wrapped around him without hesitation and he felt safe. He loved Ryan, not in any carnal way, but like a brother or a best friend.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Ryan," he sobbed, allowing himself to be urged upright. "It happened so quickly and I couldn't do anything to stop it. What if you hadn't come? I could have killed him. Now I understand why people are afraid of nightwalkers, why they've always been afraid of me, even though I never did anything before tonight."

"No, don't think like that. You are a good man, Micah. Everyone loses their temper from time to time, especially when they're provoked."

"But I wasn't even myself anymore! I became something less than human, a beast living on instinct and thirsting for death and blood." Ryan held him tight for several more moments, until his sobs faded and his body stopped shaking. "I never want to feel that way again."

"Then I'm sure, now that you know the possibility exists, you will find another way to manage your anger. If you can, what can you tell me about this man? Why did he attack you?"




A Taste of Home Ch. 03



"His name is Jack Lancelot Miller, and he's my ex-lover." Micah went on to describe the entire encounter, from learning Jack worked for Micah's grandfather, to the attack that caused him to lose control.

Upon learning about Johan Taylor's involvement, Ryan ordered Jack held at the FDPA secure holding cells with constant monitoring. Because of their investigation into Johan, they would keep him isolated and question him in hopes of gaining more information. It would also keep him from reporting in. Perhaps that would cause Johan to act in some way that would allow them to track and catch him doing something illegal. They had more rights now to investigate and go after the man, because he had sent an associate here into their jurisdiction.

Ryan refused to do anything with Jack that night, instead helping Micah into his car to drive them home. They would go to Pen, who would fuss over Micah and help him feel better. Ryan felt protective of his husband's cousin, likely because of their physical similarities, but he didn't feel the same attraction. As similar as they were, they weren't the same to him and his emotions.

******

The food was delicious, even though the portions were small and barely satisfied the appetites of the diners. Micah glanced around at everyone and admired his surroundings. He'd never been in such a posh place as the Grand Regent Hotel and it was slightly overwhelming. Pen and Ryan had been wonderful to him, Pen fussing over him as soon as he learned what happened, insisting that they could stay at home if that's what Micah preferred. Micah, on the other hand, thought he might dwell too much on the occurrence without something to distract him, so they dressed and attended the function.

There was a lot of attention on them, many people dropping by to exclaim over the resemblance between Pen and Micah. The two of them grinned at each other, and soon were taking false wagers on just what any given person would say about it before they even reached the table. A few times, they had to restrain their laughter when one of Ryan's co-workers refused to believe that they were who they said they were, believing them to have switched identities to try and fool them.

With everything going on, Micah should have been too occupied to dwell on things, and he was for the most part. It made him angry that he wanted to have Simon with him. Simon should be the last person on his mind tonight. He should be thinking and fretting about what he'd learned from Jack. The thought that their entire relationship was a sham instigated by his grandfather, made him feel somewhat sad. His judgment must be lacking if he let himself be deceived. No, it was better to believe that his grandfather approached Jack later in their relationship, perhaps it was at that point that Micah's feelings for Jack had changed. Not that he was ever madly in love with the man, of course.

"Finally! I thought I would never get the chance to stop by, Ryan. Your table has been the most popular one of the evening." A beautiful woman, with black hair and skin nearly as pale as Micah's, leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to both Ryan's and Pen's cheeks. "My goodness, this must be the cousin I've heard so much about."

"Yes. Carlie, this is Pen's cousin, Micah Taylor. Micah, this is my partner from work, Carlie Simmonds."

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, the pleasure's mine I assure you. Do you know that we've already nearly met?" She grinned at Micah and moved around the table to occupy the chair beside his. "It was about two weeks ago. Simon and I were staking out a club and we saw you go in. Neither Simon nor I could imagine what Pen was doing in such a place, especially without Ryan. When we couldn't reach Ryan by phone, Simon went inside to get a closer look. He told me it was just a remarkable resemblance when the other agents and I went in and found him."

Micah blinked and smiled at the story, but inside he was a wreck. It was his Simon she talked about, he just knew it was. Hadn't Simon said that his partner, his work partner, was waiting outside for him? Simon obviously was acquainted with Pen and Ryan, yet he'd never breathed a word. Just as obviously, he'd never breathed a word to the others that they were acquainted, either.

"That's amazing," he murmured, certain that this lovely woman expected some kind of response from him. "I thought you were Ryan's partner?"

"Yes, but when we work on cases with the NCB, we partner with one of their agents. Ryan is usually partnered with Simon, but he was off that night."

Ryan nodded and laughed. "I wonder what I would have thought if I'd been on duty that night, seeing you there. You would have thought me mad when I ran up to you and started demanding to know why you were there, thinking you were my husband." Everyone laughed at the thought and didn't seem to notice how his laugh was strained. Maybe Pen noticed, but he probably put it down to Jack's attack and didn't make an issue of it.

"I haven't seen Simon at all since that night," Carlie continued, once the laughter died down. "Do you think he's here tonight, Ryan?"

"Jimmy said he was when I saw him at the bar earlier, but I haven't seen him. Hell, I haven't seen him since we all met for drinks a couple of weeks ago. He brought Audrey again this year, and apparently her dress is even more revealing than last year's." 

The others continued with their conversation but Micah wasn't paying any attention. He could excuse Ryan for not mentioning the encounter, since their time together was limited, but not Simon. For Simon to not mention it meant that he wanted to hide the truth from Micah. The night they met outside Pen's apartment building, Simon had to know who he was visiting, yet he'd lied. Any mention of his work was avoided, Simon changed the subject just as quickly as when Micah asked about family.

He'd suspected that Simon was using him, either just for sex or for the sensations caused by being a feeder, yet Micah felt deep pain at knowing it for a fact. Like Jack, Simon was with him for ulterior motives. For several minutes, Micah allowed himself to wallow in self-pity, bemoaning the fact that he was unworthy of love. Why didn't anyone love him for himself? His mother and sister didn't count. Pen and Ryan didn't count, since they were also family, after a fashion.

That's enough of that, he told himself sternly. He had chosen to stay with Jack even though he knew they didn't suit. He had also chosen to keep seeing Simon. Jack's betrayal really hadn't bothered him, so crying about him like a lost love was stupid. As for Simon, just because the man tasted so delicious, didn't mean anything. Micah had simply taken what his father told his mother, that she tasted like home, and assumed that was how Simon tasted to him. It was nothing as dramatic as that, just a different taste. Everyone tasted slightly different, and if there was something special about Simon's taste, it had nothing to do with them being meant for one another. He'd simply latched onto that explanation with his subconscious.

"Do you want to leave, Micah?" Pen looked worried as he leaned close to whisper his question. "We've been here long enough that we can slip out."

"If you guys want to stay, I don't mind going by myself. I have to find another motel to stay in, since Grandfather likely knows where I'm staying. Do you have any suggestions about where I can go?"

"You can stay with us, Micah. I've already talked it over with Ryan, and he agrees that you should stay with us."

Micah shook his head even before Pen finished. "I'll take you up on your offer, for tonight and during the day tomorrow. I wouldn't feel comfortable staying any longer than that. I love you both and I know you're sincere, but it isn't...easy having a nightwalker as a houseguest."

Pen stared into his eyes for a long moment, before nodding his agreement. They stood and started going around the room to say their goodnights. Neither man wanted to stay any longer, nor did they feel comfortable letting Micah go off on his own. One of the last tables they stopped at before taking their leave was the one table Micah didn't want to stop at.

With no thought to the people surrounding them, the man and woman almost devoured each other, kissing so deeply it was a wonder they could still breathe. Ryan grinned and knocked on the table, causing the couple to jump apart. Judging by the bottles of wine scattered across the surface, and the slightly glazed look in their eyes, the two were probably drunk. Simon hung back, not caring if he was introduced to this co-worker of Ryan's.

******

Simon jumped back from Audrey when he heard the loud knock on the table and for a moment, his head spun so much he thought he might pass out. The dizziness was as much from lack of air as it was from the amount of wine he drank with the meal. Audrey had done her level best to give him the most in-depth tonsil massage in history. Fuck. It had taken all that wine to make him comfortable kissing her, since all the while, a pair of blue eyes replaced her soft brown ones whenever they looked at each other.

After several deep breaths, Simon looked around and caught sight of Ryan. He smiled at his occasional partner, then let his eyes move to find Pen. Damn, Pen looked incredible in a pale gray suit and a green tie that matched his eyes. Funny, no matter how alike he and Micah were, there was nothing more than appreciation for a beautiful man when he looked at Ryan's husband. There wasn't really a sexual response, or at least, nothing like what he felt when he even caught a glimpse of Micah.

As though his thoughts summoned him, Micah appeared beside Pen. He wore nearly identical clothes, the tie blue instead of green, yet Simon felt his pulse speed up and his mouth go dry. The blue eyes he'd imagined all evening looked different. They were cold and reserved, rather than twinkling or darkened with passion. It confused him for a minute, until he realized that Audrey was still wrapped around him, nuzzling his throat in spite of their company.

With a determined effort, he brought his eyes back to Ryan and stayed as relaxed as he could manage. "Ryan! I haven't seen you for a while, man. Pen, good to see you. And this has to be the cousin I've heard so much about." The blue eyes turned even colder, if that was possible.

"Yes, this is my identical cousin, Micah Taylor. Carlie was just telling us the story of how you saw him outside a club you were staking out and thought it was me. Ryan didn't tell me that story, but I can just imagine what you and she must have thought. Micah, this is Agent Simon Rousseau, of the NCB."

"Nice to meet you, Micah."

"Apparently we met briefly at the club, Agent Rousseau, but yes, nice to meet you as well." The soft voice revealed absolutely nothing of what Micah might be thinking or feeling.

"Simon, you're working tomorrow?" Ryan's question interrupted the litany of silent apologies Simon was chanting in his mind. He gave the man a quick nod and focused his attention. "Good, I'll need you for an investigation we're running. Meet me in the briefing room near the FDPA holding cells around nine."

"No problem, I don't have anything urgent on the go. What's the investigation about?"

"I don't want to get into it right now, so I'll fill you in before we interview this guy. He's cooling his heels in the holding area until we can find the time to talk to him." Both men grinned, knowing that the guy would be ready to talk come morning. Those holding cells were small and very empty. "I get to be the bad guy, though. It won't be a stretch, because I'd like nothing more than to pound the guy after the way he attacked Micah tonight."

It was after midnight. Simon pounded on the motel room door for the third time, wondering where the hell Micah could be. His mind kept repeating the words Ryan spoke earlier at the dinner. Micah was attacked. Worry and fear stayed with him the longer he stood there with no idea what was going on.

Who would attack Micah? He remembered what Micah said the first night they came to the motel together, about how he was strong enough to stop an attack by regular humans, and that he could safely bite other nightwalkers. His worry eased a bit, because obviously nothing bad had happened to Micah -- he hadn't looked injured -- and the man was in custody. Still, Simon didn't like the idea. Micah was so small that it brought out all his protective instincts, whether Micah could defend himself or not.

He took out his cell to call Micah, but there was no answer. As soon as it rolled to take a message, he cursed and put it back in his pocket. There was nothing left to do but go home and hope he could see Micah soon. Tomorrow he would learn the facts of the attack from Ryan. Even if the thought of facing the guy made him want to growl and pound something, he knew he had to get himself under control. Ryan wanted to be the bad guy during the interview, which meant that, no matter how difficult, he had to act as if he completely understood what motivated the asshole who dared attack Micah.

It wasn't until he got home that he realized that, no matter what happened, he might not ever get to hold and touch Micah again. Fuck, he'd been kissing and wrapped around Audrey at the dinner, right in front of Micah. The memory of the way those blue eyes stared at him froze his body.

Well, it didn't really matter, he told himself. Being with Micah was an aberration for him. They weren't in a relationship; it was merely convenience. Micah got to feed from someone without worrying about any possible danger from revealing his status as a nightwalker. As for him, Simon got some sex. It was just sex, anyway, even if it was with another man. Nothing major, Micah was just...someone to get off with. After all, having Micah feed made his cock hard, and fucking took care of that problem.

That's probably why the guy attacked Micah. Micah approached someone to feed from, and it spooked the guy into attacking. He ignored the fact that such a thing wouldn't prompt the FDPA into making an arrest. An attack on a nightwalker wouldn't bring in the FDPA unless the guy was a daywalker.

Putting it from his mind, Simon got ready for bed and closed his eyes.

=.=.=.=.=.=.=.

I'm thrilled with the responses I've received from the first chapter. The comments were less than favorable for the first little while (all of them private and anonymous), but they soon changed to mainly favorable. There are two more chapters after this one. Since I'm finishing up with re-reading and editing, who knows? I might decide to add more and get another chapter out of it.



A Taste of Home Ch. 04



Note: After a small spate of discontented comments, anonymous of course, for the first chapter, *nearly* everything I've received since has been positive. I'd like to thank those who sent anonymous comments, both public and private, who have had nothing but words of praise and encouragement. Those of you who left me your 'names' or email addresses, I've tried to keep up and contact you directly with my thanks.

I enjoy writing very much, and I acknowledge that I'm not the best writer. If others enjoy my stories in the spirit in which they're offered, rather than based on perfect technique, then I find myself very happy and lucky as well.

=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=

A split second after the glass shattered against the wall, the bedroom door splintered, disintegrating into a pile of rubble. Nothing more was needed to tell anyone that the occupant of the room was seriously pissed. "I want him killed before he opens his fucking mouth, do you understand me?"

Blake Taylor, the third and unknown son of Johan Taylor stood at attention near the couch, refusing to flinch in the face of his father's rage. He'd spent his life living in the shadows. Neither of his half-brothers, and consequently their families, knew of his existence. He was the eldest, born six months before Ghislain, the product of an affair the old man had with some waitress. When the woman died giving birth to the nightwalker baby, Johan took him and gave him over to Sheila to raise. Sheila was one of Johan's youngest nieces, who lived nearby but was not part of the nightwalker community.

"I agree with you, but Jack is in the FDPA headquarters in Rutherford. We don't have anyone on the inside there, and nobody from the outside can get close enough." He prepared himself for the anger that would soon fall on his head. Johan Taylor wasn't anyone people wanted to cross, his son included. "The best we can hope for is that they move him somewhere before he tells them too much."

"I don't understand why I couldn't summon Micah properly." Johan frowned, disliking his failure, especially since he didn't understand it. "I was connected to Micah and he was moving out to where our man could grab him. All of a sudden, the link broke. It shouldn't have broken just because someone distracted him. Now I can't seem to connect again." Johan had read through all the ancient books and could find no clue to explain what happened. He knew he was able to whisper in the minds of any male descendent of his own line, and it was a talent very few were able to master.

Master it he had. Hadn't he prodded Kylen into attacking his own son, Penlan? That had been a stroke of genius on his part. Too bad the binding destroyed Kylen before he could take Pen along. Blake was also susceptible to the whispers, but there was no need. The only one he couldn't affect at all was Penlan, but that grandson of his was too tainted to be of any use. 

Thrusting his hands through his hair, Johan growled his dissatisfaction. "I need Micah back here soon! Penlan was never acceptable, and now that any drop of nightwalker blood is gone, he can no longer even remotely be considered family."

Blake tried to soothe his father, pointing out just how close they were to his goals. "The final results of the tests for the formula should be sent to you some time in the next day or two. You won't be disappointed."

"Are we sure Freitag's formula is more effective than the one Silversmith made for us?" Johan paced back and forth between the bedroom and the living room, kicking at the remains of the door on each pass.

"All test runs point to Formula A being lethal to daywalkers, with no ill effects for nightwalkers. Formula B is complete and tests show it works, but it hasn't yet been tested on a human nightwalker. The lab results you'll get are encouraging. I've personally watched the process on rats, dogs, goats and one chimp. All of them died within half an hour of ingesting the formula. The good thing about this formula is that it's tasteless and can be mixed with any liquid. Solids don't seem to work as well, but we agreed that was not a problem."

Johan nodded and continued to pace. Blake knew what was bothering his father. The original formula to destroy daywalkers, created and developed by Dr. Silversmith at Rutherford MedLabs, had an unexpected side effect: that of changing the basic genetic structure of nightwalkers into full humans. Johan needed to know if it worked on common nightwalkers alone, or if it also affected what he called 'real' nightwalkers. He didn't consider Penlan's transformation to be a real test, since he also had daywalker blood to contaminate him.

Micah, however, was pure nightwalker, according to Johan's standards. What Johan wanted, more than anything else, even the destruction of daywalkers and sub-standard nightwalkers, was to live forever. The way old-time vampires and nightwalkers were reputed to do in movies and common misconceptions. It had been a dream of his for a long time, but without any way to make it come true. That dream turned into a real possibility when Penlan transformed into a full human.

Blake knew that his father was ready to implement the final testing phase of his personal goal: eternal life. If everything worked as he believed it would, Micah was the key. Johan would do all he could to get Micah into his clutches, keeping him as a prisoner.

Personally, Blake thought the old man was insane. Not that he would ever say anything to anyone, or even think the words too loud. He owed his father so much. Well, not owed exactly, but he had never wanted for anything growing up. Johan hadn't ignored him when he had his legitimate children at home. Johan visited him regularly, played with him, gave him anything he wanted almost before he could wish for it. His father told him the truth of his birth, and insisted that it didn't make him love his son less.

If he weren't loved, Blake reminded himself often during the past few years, Johan would have used him to test the formula. Hadn't Johan killed his legitimate son? Hadn't he turned his other son away, and then destroyed the mind of his daywalker wife by testing an early version of the daywalker formula on her? Back then, Blake had been happy to watch the woman's descent into madness, reveling in the way she abused her husband and son. Johan's only reaction to the effects on Eleane Pritchard Taylor was to be furious at the failure and kill the scientist responsible.

When did I finally get over the hero-worship and want out? 

You know when it was. You changed your mind after the trial at the MedLabs, with all those dead bodies and the unexpected effect on your nephew.

That was the truth. Blake sighed silently, desperate to get away, but knowing there was one more topic of conversation coming. He remembered reading the reports on the crime, feeling sick in the pit of his stomach at the descriptions. It really hit home that Pen was his nephew when he read about the ordeal Pen went through, which lasted nearly two weeks. It wasn't Pen's fault that he was born to the Taylor family, yet Johan railed against it as though Pen came into being simply to annoy the old man.

The exact moment Blake felt that his love for his father might not be enough came after he delivered the results of the report. His father read through the pages in red-faced silence, then threw the comp into the wall. "Not only is the little shit contaminated by daywalker blood, but he's a fucking faggot too."

It wasn't until a few months later that Blake acknowledged the change in his feelings, but that was the moment it happened. Never in a million years would he ever let his father know, or find out, that he was also gay. He never once indulged his desires, but they were there, buried as deep inside his body as he could manage. He married the docile girl his father chose and did his duty as best he could. Luckily, he was away from home a lot, taking care of business for his father.

"Tell me, Blake. Tell me if your Mary is pregnant yet."

"I haven't been home for two months, Father, and she hasn't gotten in touch with me. I will certainly call you the moment she tells me if we've been blessed."

"You're young yet, although those two other sons of mine were quick off the mark." Johan grunted and seemed to be deep in thought. He came up with an explanation that satisfied him. "That's the reason their kids were defective. Both of them fags. You're almost sixty now and that's a good age to start a family. I wouldn't push you so much, but if anything happens, I'd like to know the line would continue through you. My oldest, and my best, son."

Self-loathing made Blake want to throw up or yell at his father. He did neither. Instead, he thanked his father as any good son would do and left the room. Mary waited for him, unaware that her husband felt nothing for her. She always greeted him with a smile and a shy blush. She was sweet enough, and he cared about her well-being, but he didn't love her as a husband should, and he certainly didn't desire her.

Fists clenched at his sides, he pushed away the thought that threatened to crush him. Let him die before he hurts anyone else. I'm in too deep to stop while he's alive, so please, let him die.

******

Simon arrived for work early, checked the messages at his desk and grabbed a cup of coffee before taking the elevator to the lower levels, where the holding cells were situated. He hadn't slept well, his mind wondering about the attack on Micah and waking him half a dozen times before the alarm sent him from his bed into the shower. Each time he told himself to forget about it, that whatever happened had nothing to do with him, but it didn't work.

He caught sight of Ryan, pacing back and forth in front of the briefing room. If Simon had to guess what Ryan was feeling, it would be rage and frustration. Fear that something very bad had happened to Micah nearly had Simon running to demand an explanation, but he managed to restrain himself at the last moment. He composed his face before making his presence known.

"Ryan. Is there something wrong? You look...pissed. Is it about this guy we'll be talking to?"

"Partly. His name is Jack Miller." Ryan took a deep breath, closing his eyes to calm down. "He's Micah's ex-boyfriend, came down on the order of Micah's, and Pen's, grandfather to take him home. I'll explain about the grandfather in a minute. When Micah didn't agree, Mr. Miller in there punched him in the stomach then kneed him on the chin. Micah's reaction was...well, it wasn't good, let's leave it at that. Understandable under the circumstances, but if I hadn't been there, I hate to think what might have happened."

Simon paled at the thought. He could imagine several scenarios of what Micah could have done because of the attack, but didn't like any of them. "I hate to think what else could have happened, if that's only part of the reason."

"Yeah. This next part is personal and has nothing to do with the investigation, but it's really bothering me. If I tell you about it, I'm repeating tales that I shouldn't even have heard in the first place."

"Hey, you know me; I won't breathe a word of it to anyone."

Ryan nodded, trusting Simon because as work partners, they needed to know the other had their backs. "Micah spent the night with us. Pen stayed up most of the night with him, because he was really upset and ashamed of what happened. I didn't mean to, but when I brought them something to snack on and drink, I kind of overheard their conversation. Seems Micah's been seeing someone since he came to town. If he told Pen who, I didn't hear, but I'd like to find this guy and teach him the right way to treat people; that nightwalkers are still people no matter what he might think."

Oh fuck. Had Micah told his cousin about their relationship? How much had Micah revealed to Pen? His name? More questions flowed into his mind and then suddenly he focused on what else Ryan said. Something about how he didn't treat Micah well. Simon didn't know what that was about. He might have kept their seeing each other a secret, but they still went out to eat, dining out in public and having conversations. Maybe Micah was complaining about something else.

Ryan's mention of nightwalkers meant that Micah suspected or accused Simon, whichever it might be, of treating Micah badly because he was a nightwalker. Simon had no clue why that might be. Didn't he let Micah feed from him? He didn't run screaming at the thought and never refused, so there couldn't be anything for Micah to complain about on that account.

Simon knew he couldn't think about this. He returned his attention to Ryan, who began pacing again, probably in an attempt to get himself back under control. He needed more information. Luckily, he knew how to ask questions without giving anything away. All part and parcel of the training NCB agents received at the Academy.

"Sounds like this Micah has had a rough time of it lately. So, this, um, guy he's been seeing is treating him bad because he's a nightwalker?"

"The guy treats him like some kind of prostitute. Apparently, he insists on having Micah feed, even though Micah tried to explain about feeding too often from the same person. Apparently, it can feel very good when a nightwalker feeds and this fucker likes it and won't take no for an answer. Then he just fucks Micah, without taking the time to get him ready or anything. He doesn't even ask if it's all right anymore or anything, just gets his rocks off, waits a bit for a blow, and then leaves."

Simon felt his face get red. That wasn't true at all...was it? He hoped Ryan decided the flush was for the reference to fucking rather than guilt. "If he's such an ass, I'm surprised Micah keeps seeing him."

"Pen asked him the same thing. Micah said that they do go out some, and he keeps thinking that things will change. I decided to go in and stop eavesdropping about then, and as I started to knock, I heard him say that he's going to cut off contact, since he saw the guy with someone else, and knows now that the behavior won't change. Then this Jack attacks him. In addition, before coming to Rutherford, they fired him from his job for being a nightwalker and his mother moved into an assisted living facility. Damn, he hasn't had it quite as rough as Pen did growing up, but I think it's bad enough.

"Shit, I've got to pull myself together. Here, let's go into the briefing room and I'll give you the facts about this investigation. That's something else that probably has Micah tied up in knots, along with Pen, since it involves their grandfather." Ryan paused and looked down at his shoes. He seemed to come to a decision, but refused to meet Simon's eyes. "Do you think I should try and find this guy? Run a check on Micah's phone and see if we can identify him?"

"I don't think that would be a good idea, without Micah's permission at least. If you do that and he finds out somehow..." Simon let his words trail off. He was so pathetic. Anyone else and he would encourage the man to investigate and get to the bottom of things. Here he was, protecting himself from discovery, at the expense of a young man who obviously felt pained by his behavior.

Now he remembered one of the first things Micah said to him in the club.  It really isn't like me to do something like this. Proposition a man I've met in a club, I mean. He'd disregarded that and thought about Micah as someone who just wanted to feed and would take whoever came along. It was true, he had insisted when Micah tried to refuse to feed, thinking that it was a way to give him an out rather than because he didn't want to. How arrogant of him! The rest of it was all true; so clear now that it he heard it spelled out. After feeding, Simon couldn't wait to sate his lust and shoved into Micah's body, not speaking, doing nothing to make the encounter more intimate or personal, taking what he wanted and to hell with the rest.

Tonight, he would find Micah and do all he could to make it up to the young, beautiful man. Micah shouldn't suffer because he was suffering an identity crisis. Simon knew he was the one with the problem, unable to accept that he was gay, or at least bisexual, and treating the arrangement he'd created with Micah as nothing more than a side effect of the feeding. God, he'd created a fantasy that the behavior Micah showed with him was what he did with everyone and anyone he met.

Clearing his mind for the hundredth time since the night before, Simon settled in to hear the details of the investigation. They talked about how they were going to work this Jack character. It was almost a relief to submerge himself in the role of agent, becoming the affable, tolerant man who would help tease out the information they needed.

******

He was lost. The trees around him were vaguely familiar, tall and broad, half-hidden in the trailing mist. Someone was running through the trees, ahead of him but hidden in the darkness. He knew what he was supposed to do. He didn't want to; it wasn't how things were supposed to be. If he didn't, the pain would come swiftly to exact its vengeance. He knew, yes, he knew that no matter how lost and afraid he was, it could get worse if he didn't move forward.

The sounds of running faded then grew louder again. Whoever it was, they were also lost in the forest. No, it wasn't a forest but a home wood. That was what He called it. He told Micah to go into the home wood to...to...to do something. Why couldn't he remember his instructions? Maybe he was supposed to find whoever was running. Yes, of course, that was it, that's what he was supposed to do. He knew that, he'd always known, but only if he didn't think about it.

He ran, in that special way only he and his family could run. When he ran like this, there was no noise to betray him. He was as silent as the mist, moving effortlessly over the ground and around obstacles. The darkness was complete without the light of the moon, but he could still see. Eyes stared at him from all around, but they were unimportant. He didn't need to find who those eyes belonged to. They were nothing but animals and beneath his notice. Another time he might find joy in seeing those creatures, but not now, not tonight. Tonight was for...Again the blankness came. It wasn't his job to think. All he had to do was what he'd been told.

There was a clearing up ahead, and beyond that clearing was a hill. It sloped down from where he would approach. At the bottom of that hill, off to the left, was a shallow cave, about twelve feet deep. The cave was his destination. He knew that, even if he didn't know how he knew. Enough that he knew where to go. More eyes stared out from that cave, but those eyes he had to avoid until he was closer. Much, much closer.

No! Stop! This isn't right. You know it isn't right. Stop this instant and go back home.

Micah immediately froze. He looked around without moving his head, trying to find where the words came from. There was no sound anymore. Whoever was running earlier was now silent, waiting for him to get there. Cautiously now, Micah resumed his course, descending the slope easily and noiselessly. He could see the cave, clear as day, although anyone else would only see a faint shadow even in the brightest sunlight.

Within moments, he stood at the entrance. He stood off to the side so the occupants wouldn't see him. No need to cause a panic. There were no other people in or near the wood, but that didn't mean he could get sloppy and forget his instructions, even if he couldn't remember them consciously.

The person, no the people, were grouped at the back of the cave, eyes open wide in fear. He counted swiftly, automatically, and concluded that seven people waited for him to come. Strangely enough, there was also a large mirror. It covered nearly the entire back wall of the cave. What he saw in that mirror made Micah stumble back. He saw his own reflection, but he didn't recognize himself.




A Taste of Home Ch. 04



Instead of the face he saw every day in the mirror when he fixed his hair, or simply took in his appearance, there was the face of a demon. His eyes glowed red, wide and terrible against white skin that nearly glowed in the darkness. His fangs curved towards his chin, not enough to nick his own chin but more than they should, long and razor sharp. He could almost see the thin edge that would rend and tear.

Blood dripped down from the sides of his mouth, two thin lines running from the corners down over his chin and along the sides of his throat. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him. It was a mistake, or maybe some kind of funhouse mirror. Micah tried to ask what was happening and he screamed silently at the angry hiss that emerged from his throat.

Micah, please. Don't listen to Him. He is trying to change you. Look at us and then look into your heart.

One by one, he identified the people standing in the cave, pleading with him. His mother and sister were there, as beautiful as he remembered them. They were afraid, but trying to reach out to him. With them were Pen and Ryan, holding each other's hands, their love plain to see and trying to wrap around him. Beside his family was Jack, looking smug. Beneath that façade, however, Micah could see he was terrified. Off to the side, neither with nor apart from the rest, was Simon, eyes averted as he beckoned Micah forward.

It was the last person who changed everything. This last person lay on the ground, naked and shivering from the cold. His chest heaved, struggling in vain to draw breath, but his throat was no longer there. A huge hole, glistening with blood, marred the pale flesh. Micah closed his eyes tight, certain they were playing tricks on him, but as soon as he opened them again, they met the same sight. This wasn't possible. How could he be looking at himself, when he was standing in the darkness outside the cave?

Tentatively he touched the tip of his tongue to the trace of blood at the corner. That was his taste. Micah knew then that his eyes weren't deceiving him. He had turned into some kind of monster and destroyed himself in some way.

He turned and fled, racing faster than anyone ever could, howling and screaming in pain and fear the whole way. He kept going until he burst out of the wood and found himself a hundred feet away from a group of men with guns. Desperate to end his pain, he flung out his arms and invited them to shoot and put him out of his misery. He nearly wept with joy when they took aim and fired directly into his monstrous heart...

"Micah, wake up. It's all right, it's just a dream."

Micah sat straight up as soon as he felt the touch on his arm and realized it wasn't the bite of a bullet. His first thought was to wonder what the Hell he was doing in a closet. Pen leaned over him, biting his lip with worry, and Micah remembered everything. He remembered Jack's attack and his own aberrant behavior that followed. He remembered seeing Simon at the dinner, wrapped around the beautiful woman. He remembered how neither Pen nor Ryan wanted him to rent another room right away. The closet was the safest place for him to sleep, even though the midday sun was on the opposite side of the apartment and shouldn't bother him while he slept on the bed.

He knew that the safety he sought had nothing to do with the sun. It wasn't even safety for himself. He was afraid of somehow transforming back into the monster and attacking Pen and Ryan. Logically he knew it wasn't possible, but the fear wouldn't let him go. Once released, maybe it would fight for dominance again. Next time, there might not be anyone to help him. Maybe, nobody would be able to reach him at all.

"I'm all right," he reassured his cousin. Pen sank back on his heels and took hold of his hand. There was understanding in the steady green gaze. "What time is it?"

"Almost five. Ryan will be home soon and he said he got some information from Jack. Will you stay for dinner? Carlie and Simon will be joining us and they'll probably talk about the investigation, since they'll work on it together."

Micah thought about it, wondering if he could spend time with Simon, even with others around, and not let his bitterness show. Better not to take any chances. "I don't think I'm ready for that. Besides, I need to find somewhere else to stay, get my stuff from the motel room and find a job. I have enough money for a little while yet, but I don't want to wait until the last minute."

Pen nodded and tried to hide his disappointment. All night he'd tried to convince Micah to stay longer than one night, or rather one day. "You'll be sure to let me know where you end up? I don't want us to lose touch, and I'm sure Ryan will want to keep you informed on the investigation."

That night, Micah enjoyed a couple of lucky breaks. He happened to be in a gas station when the clerk got into a huge argument with the owner and quit. Micah asked for the job, pointing out that hiring a nightwalker to work the night shift would result in a reduced chance of robbery. The man seemed surprised, then glad and hired Micah on the spot.

Finding a new place to live was a little more difficult. His job at the gas station didn't pay that well, but he could supplement with the cash he got from the sale of the house. His mother insisted that he keep half the amount for himself. Instead of a motel room, Micah wanted to rent a small apartment. He didn't need much space, but he did want something with privacy. Scouring the papers in between customers, he found a few possibilities, which would have to wait until the next afternoon or early evening.

Just before dawn, when the day clerk arrived, he was speaking to a customer. The gentleman saw the paper and said he had an old bunker-style apartment attached to the basement of his house. Apparently, his father was slightly paranoid about the catastrophic predictions of doom surrounding the turn of the century. He built a concrete and steel bunker to protect himself and his family, large enough that it was later converted into a one-bedroom apartment. It was currently empty and the man was willing to rent it out, had in fact been discussing it with his wife for the past week. They agreed on a price and a time to meet to sign a lease the following evening.

Micah introduced himself to the clerk who came to take over and gathered up his things from behind the counter. He had plenty of time to get to the new motel room he had rented the night before. It was even worse than his previous room and he was glad he wouldn't have to stay there too long. A quick call to Pen, to tell him all the news, and he was ready to fall into bed.

Over the course of the next month, Micah was the happiest he'd been in a long time. Not completely happy, but happy nonetheless. It surprised him that he found the job at the gas station so fulfilling. Since there were often lulls during the night, Micah looked over classes he could take online and chose to study criminology. He didn't want to become an officer or anything, but thought that some kind of consulting work, or even lab work might be fun. When he visited with Pen and Ryan, he talked about his classes and got more insight and help from Ryan, which really helped. 

Micah also loved his new apartment. There was a separate entrance around the side of the house, but Albert Stanford was a wonderful and welcoming man, as were his wife and children. They were apparently fine with him being a nightwalker, showing no fear or uncertainty in being near him. The children, in their late teens, sometimes invited him to visit in the backyard, and Mrs. Stanford brought out snacks and drinks for them to share. A few times, they also invited him for dinner, insisting when he tried to refuse.

"Thank God, Micah."

At the soft-spoken exclamation, Micah lifted his head and saw Simon just inside the doors. Simon's brown eyes were wide, yet showing pleasure at seeing Micah again. "Simon. I...You...um, how can I help you?" He was flustered but didn't want to show it. The only thing that marred his happiness in his life was that he couldn't let himself see or taste Simon, and now the man was standing there in front of him.

"I've wanted to see you so much. I was terrified when I heard how that Jack guy attacked you. I wanted so much to make sure you were all right. Pen and Ryan said you were doing well, but it wasn't the same."

"I am doing well. I have a job I enjoy, a great apartment and I'm taking classes." As wonderful as the words Simon spoke to him were, they only brought to mind just why Simon missed him and wanted to see him. He wanted to feed Micah and have sex. It couldn't be clearer to Micah even if Simon spoke those words.

"That's great, it really is. Would you. I wonder if you'd like to have breakfast with me in the morning. After you finish your shift?"

Micah looked down at his books and gave the request serious thought. The only time he'd fed since the last time he was with Simon, the experience hadn't been very good. He hadn't enjoyed the taste of ash that coated his tongue when he was done. His craving for Simon only grew afterwards. His body had grown accustomed to Simon and it worried him. A lot.

The main question was if he could live with Simon using him in order to taste that wonderful flavor while he fed. As long as he kept the encounter superficial, he could probably get through it fine. If he kept his emotions out of it, there shouldn't be any problems. That was his whole problem there. So what if he never usually indulged in sex with random feeders? This was simply a different situation, where a different interaction was required. And really, if he looked at it objectively, it was his own doing that set up their relationship.

Hadn't he invited the man to the back rooms of the club for sex? That first time, Simon had even given him a blowjob before they fucked, something that he never repeated in all their other times together. Yes, Micah acknowledged that the basis of their relationship was something he himself had forged, so he shouldn't feel upset about it now, after the fact. He needed to suck it up, after a fashion, and see it through either until Simon tired of it or Micah moved on.

"Sure, I'll meet you in the morning. I finish up here around six or so. How about if we meet up at the north end of Easter Park at six thirty. It will give me time to help mop up in here and then change my clothes."

"Six thirty is fine. We can find a place near wherever you live to eat, that way it won't be too long to get you there for nine at the latest." Simon grinned and finally moved closer to pay for the gas. "I'm so happy to see you again, Micah, I really am." Micah smiled at him, hoping his worry and fear weren't on display for the man to see.

******

Simon checked his appearance over carefully in the mirror. He wore a navy blue t-shirt and jeans, both of them a little tight. He almost wished he was meeting Micah for dinner out, so he could dress up. He ought to ride up and pick Micah up in a limo, take him to the fanciest, most expensive restaurant he could find and then take him out to a club for some dancing. A real date, rather than a quick dinner at some small, out of the way restaurant like they'd done before.

Who cared if there was a chance his parents might hear about his being out with another man? Wasn't his happiness more important than their expectations? Simon could hardly believe what he was thinking. His parents asked for so little from him, and he now contemplated taking away their only wish. Grandchildren. They so desperately wanted grandchildren to spoil and love, and if he was honest, he wanted children of his own, too.

He'd never felt anything for all the women he'd dated, other than they were pretty and the right gender. Even Elisabeth, his longest relationship, wasn't more than someone he could tolerate. God, it had to be bad if he stayed with someone because he could tolerate their company. That wasn't being fair either to himself or the women.

He pulled up to the northern entrance of Easter Park and found a space right near the start of the path. He didn't see Micah yet, but he was a few minutes early. Wandering to the information kiosk, he took in the beautiful surroundings. A few hundred feet to the left, the lake began, bordered by a strip of unnaturally white sand and a few ducks swam lazily along the smooth surface. On the other side of the kiosk, several paths branched off, one going into the trees and the others going across the outer border.

"Simon?"

"I'm over here, sorry, I guess I got to wandering while looking around. I don't come to the park nearly often enough."

Micah smiled and came to meet him. He looked so beautiful, with an oversized black silk shirt and pale jeans that hugged his lower body. "That's fine. There's a lovely diner just through the woods there, about a five-minute walk. Unless you'd rather take your car?"

"Walking is good."

Simon extended his arm and was delighted when Micah blushed and hesitantly reached out with his hand. They were quiet until completely within the trees, and then Simon couldn't resist pulling Micah to him for a kiss. They were alone here, very few people out this time of the morning. Simon moaned as he tasted his lover. He wished he could identify that taste. It made him weak in the knees every time they kissed.

"Simon," Micah whimpered into Simon's mouth. "Please, let me feed. I've only been able to feed once since I saw you last, and it wasn't...isn't enough. We can go eat later or another time. Please."

Fingers clutched at his biceps and Simon looked down into Micah's face. He saw pleading in the beautiful green eyes. There was something else in the depths, which he couldn't readily identify. All his good intentions flew out the proverbial window. Simon directed the two of them off the path, into the deeper shadows where they could remain hidden should anyone else walk along the path through the woods. He was already hard as a rock, his prick pushing uncomfortably into the zipper of jeans grown too tight for comfort.

As soon as they were a good enough distance away, Micah leaned up and licked along the side of his neck. Goddamn that was an amazing feeling. He felt his breathing speed up at the thought of those fangs piercing his flesh. The pull of his blood rushing out into the nightwalker's mouth was the most erotic thing he'd ever experienced in his life. He could almost come just from that, probably would if it would last more than a few seconds at a time.

Lips replaced tongue on his neck where his pulse thudded, soft yet firm, creating a seal that would keep his blood from escaping the warm cavern. With a slight shift, Simon felt the twin fangs slip into his vein. He was immediately lost in the pleasurable sensations that coursed through his body. He could almost believe Micah was injecting him with some incredible drug, rather than taking his blood. Each swallow seemed to pull directly from his cock and balls. Micah moved slightly, but he couldn't bring himself to understand what Micah was up to.

As soon as the feeding was over, with two quick flicks of the tongue over the punctures, Simon tried to find his balance. Micah's back was up against a tree and Simon let his hands rest on the trunk to stay upright.

"You can fuck me now, Simon," Micah whispered, wriggling around within the circle of Simon's arms to present his back. "I've already slicked and stretched myself for you."

Something nagged at the edge of Simon's consciousness, something he ought to remember. In the moment, however, he couldn't imagine anything so important that it should interfere with the feeling of Micah's firm ass pushing back against him. He vaguely heard Micah tell him that the mound around the base of the tree was high enough to have him at the right height for Simon to enter him easily, without having to bend his knees too much.

Yes, his beautiful Micah was a very smart young man. Imagine thinking of such a thing as his comfort at a time like this.

He brought his hands down, desperate to free his aching erection. As he undid his jeans, the backs of his hands felt that Micah had already lowered his own jeans. God that was sexy! Simon groaned as he sank into Micah's tight heat, the passage slick with lube and the entry easy as promised. Alarm bells tried to capture his attention, but he was too close to his release to pay attention.

Micah vigorously met each of his thrusts and very soon, Simon pushed in as deep as he could. He bit at his lip to contain his shout as his climax raced through his body. He leaned over the slender back, breath and heart racing.

"Simon, please, if you could let me up before I fall over."

It took a few moments before Micah's words penetrated the fog around Simon's senses, and another moment or two for him to stand up straight. He found a handful of napkins thrust into his hands. While he cleaned up, he was aware of Micah fixing his pants. A quick glance showed no evidence of release on the tree or anywhere at the base of the tree. Simon felt a chill at the thought that Micah didn't enjoy their encounter. The chill grew when he saw the golden head bowed down and a flush stain the milky-white cheeks.

"Micah? I didn't mean to..." He got no further before Micah interrupted him, an obviously false smile painted on his face.

"It's fine. Listen, I'm not going to be able to eat or drink anything, so I think I'll just head on home from here. It's kind of silly for us to go out for breakfast or dinner when you think of it. I shouldn't have made the stupid of rule of eating first, it's not what you...I mean either of us need or want."

Simon shook his head. Damn it! He should have heeded his instincts when they screamed that something was wrong, that there was something he needed to remember. Instead, he'd just gone ahead and used Micah, just as he'd always done. Even worse, it seemed now that Micah believed that's what he deserved and did everything he could to make things easier. Imagine preparing himself for sex, because he knew Simon wouldn't bother. Simon felt like a horrible monster.

He needed to apologize and try to explain his behavior. With a deep breath for courage, Simon gave it a shot. "You don't understand, Micah. This morning, it wasn't supposed to be about feeding or sex. I wanted us to have breakfast and ta..."

"You didn't want? Oh God I'm so sorry!" Micah stared at Simon, horrified at his behavior. He stumbled back several steps, almost falling but regaining his balance thanks to his nightwalker abilities. He covered his mouth as though about to be sick. "I have to go. I didn't mean to make you do something you didn't want. It won't happen again, Simon. I swear to you, it will never happen again!"

Before Simon could blink and understand that Micah misunderstood his words, Micah was gone, out of sight when Simon looked around. Cursing loudly, he punched the tree, welcoming the blossoming pain that numbed his entire arm. With a sigh, he turned and walked slowly back to his car. How was he going to put this right? He'd tried and only managed to muck it up even worse than before.

Straightening his shoulders, he promised himself to go to the gas station tonight and talk to Micah there. Customers might interrupt them, but at least he could count on Micah sticking around until he managed to make sense. Right now, he might as well go change and go to work.

******

Micah managed to keep a handle on his emotions as he leaned on the wall behind a bookstore and pulled out his phone. He didn't want to go home yet, he needed to talk to his mother. Even without going into details, she would be able to calm him down so he could think clearly.

"Hello?"

"Mom? It's Micah. I need to talk to you." He closed his eyes and pictured his mother's face. He knew she would be worried, but she would try her best.




A Taste of Home Ch. 04



"Oh Baby, I wish I could. Your grandfather has been around, and from things he's said, he's managed get a trace on my phone. I don't want to lead him right to you."

"He already knows where I am, Mom. Don't you remember? Jack was here." The silence lengthened and he wanted to scream. He needed to talk. He needed his mother to be there for him.

"Jack is dead, Micah. The message I got was that your grandfather was responsible. When I showed the message to the police here, they didn't think it was clear, but we both know different, don't we? Added onto that message was another, for you. It said 'Tell M to come home immediately or we'll find him.' Please, be careful. Change your phone, keep a low profile and hopefully Johan won't know exactly where you are."

He didn't want to hang up with his mother. Who knew when he would be able to call her again? Yet, he couldn't stand to put her in danger so he closed the phone, and swore to himself not to call her or contact her unless he was certain it was safe. Maybe Ryan could keep tabs on her, to make sure nothing happened. If anything happened to his mother, he would never forgive himself. And Jenny, God, he had to make sure Jenny stayed safe as well.

******

It wasn't until Micah was halfway up to Pen's apartment that he thought he might not have any luck arriving so late in the morning. Pen might already be on his way to work and there wasn't time enough for Micah to reach his own apartment before the sun got too strong for him to stand. His shame over his behavior with Simon, and his fear after his conversation with his mother, hadn't made him careful enough.

There was still time for him to find a safe place, however, so he stepped out of the elevator and hurried to the apartment door. He started to smile at the sound of Pen singing inside, before his memories wiped the smile from his face.

"Micah, I wasn't expecting you so late." Pen looked closer at his cousin's face and pulled him inside. "What's wrong? What happened to bring you here now?"

"I called my mother earlier and she said she couldn't talk because Grandfather is monitoring her calls somehow. Jack's dead. Grandfather sent her a message hinting that he was responsible, but when she showed the police, they dismissed it. With that was a message for me, telling me that I have to go home right away or they'd find me. I need to make sure my mother and sister are safe. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to them because that damned old man wants me for some unknown reason."

"I'll call Ryan right away and let him know. Are you all right to stay up a little while longer? If not, it's fine, but Ryan will probably call back once he sees to your family's safety. It might be a good idea for you to pull all the blinds while I call, just to be on the safe side."

Micah ran the controls for all the windows in both the kitchen and the living room. The doors to the other rooms were all closed, so he was safe enough until later. He didn't think he'd be able to sleep at all until certain he'd done everything possible.

He cast his thoughts back to that morning's encounter with Simon while waiting for Pen to finish his phone call. Until they finished, Micah was certain that everything was proceeding as Simon wished. Simon had taken hold of him and kissed him as soon as they were out of sight of any possible observers. After the kiss, with the taste so strong in his mouth, that incredible familiar taste, Micah had simply moved things along. He didn't want a travesty of seduction, when it would be nothing of the sort.

After he fed, everything had proceeded exactly as it always had. With hardly a pause, Simon was ready to fuck and did so with great enthusiasm. That he stopped once he got his rocks off, not caring that Micah didn't follow, was not out of the ordinary. Well, except that Micah didn't come as well. This was the first time he hadn't gained his own release, helped along by Simon or not.

"Ryan promised to have someone keep watch on your mother and sister. He'll call back with the details as soon as it's set up. Do you need something to eat or drink while we wait?"

"No, I fed before trying to call my mother," Micah whispered, ducking his head in embarrassment. He cursed his light complexion because he knew Pen would see the blush. "I made a fool of myself, Pen. The man I told you about, he walked into the gas station last night and of course, he said he was glad to see me. I hadn't talked to him since that night Jack attacked me. He invited me for breakfast and I said yes.

"I thought about it and wondered why I should give up a good feeder, just because I was expecting more. I mean, I get the blood I need, he gets sex, we're both happy. After we...well, afterwards, I said we didn't have to go through the charade of having a regular meal together. That's something I had insisted upon when I thought we were developing a relationship, so I figured, we'll just abandon that, make this like a business transaction and all will be fine."

He trailed off, wondering how much information to give. He worried that if he got carried away, he might inadvertently say something to let Pen know who his feeder was. Simon had gone out of his way to make sure nobody knew of their acquaintance. As much as it hurt, Micah didn't feel comfortable exposing Simon. He probably had a very good reason for keeping quiet.

Pen gently stroked Micah's hair, tucking a stray strand behind his ear. There was no condemnation in his eyes as he prompted Micah to finish with his tale. "Then what happened? There has to be more than that. Come on, you can tell me."

"He said...he said that this morning wasn't supposed to be about feeding and sex. God Pen, he was just being nice and I almost begged him to let me feed. After that, well, I already told you that when I feed I make sure it's pleasurable for the feeder, so he..." Micah felt his face burning and stopped talking. He was sure Pen knew what happened. "He didn't want that to happen, and I almost made him. I'm a horrible person."

It was too much. For the first time in a long time, Micah burst into tears. Raising his knees up, he buried his face, hiding his shame. The arms that wrapped around him only made things worse, even as they made him feel safe. He cried out his fears for a long time and Pen rocked him the entire time, telling him everything would be fine. When the storm passed, Micah felt drained and hollowed out, yet things looked clear. His path was there and he knew exactly what he needed to go forward and be true to himself at the same time.

He needed to speak plainly with Simon. Simon needed to know that Micah wasn't comfortable with a superficial relationship. If they were to continue with Simon as a feeder and the two of them indulging in sex, it had to be a real relationship, where they were together, in public. There could be no hiding in the shadows. Any intimacies had to be shared between the two of them, not just Simon taking what he wanted and Micah following if he was able.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you. I think I'll go take a shower, if that's all right with you." He leaned over and gave Pen a hug in thanks for the love and support. "I'm so happy that I came to Rutherford and met you. My very own twin, even if I am the younger."

"You may be younger, but I'm much more handsome, twin or not." Pen grinned and winked. "Go on and have your shower. I'll put some clothes out for you to sleep in. Things will work out as they're supposed to, Micah; I know they will. In the meantime, Ryan and I are here for you and if you tell us the name of your feeder, we'll go beat some sense into him. We love you and don't want you hurt."

"Thank you, but I don't think that will be necessary. In a way, I set the tone of the relationship during our first encounter. Both of us are at fault, but since I'm the one who's unhappy with the direction it took, I have to take charge. Tonight, we will either move forward or end our association, and that will have to be enough."

Micah took a quick shower, unwilling to linger and think too much. He was pleased to hear the phone ring as he exited the bathroom. Ryan had spoken to the police in Canada and there were people assigned to keeping a close eye on Sara and Jenny. They were going to sweep the phones as well, to see if there were any bugs or taps on the line. As soon as it was safe, Sara would call Micah and they would be able to speak freely.

It eased his mind a great deal, although the fear didn't leave entirely. Johan was a nightwalker, and might employ other nightwalkers even if he held them in disdain. Nightwalkers could easily evade notice, slipping in and out of any place without anyone being the wiser. Ryan assured Micah that the police were aware of the difficulties, and had measures in place to safeguard against nightwalkers.

Micah could only hope it was enough.

******

Blake walked into the house, hating the old man more than ever. At least now, with the police watching Sara and Jenny Taylor, they were safe from danger. It was a relief, since he knew Johan would send him to carry out the 'message'. With the police involved, Johan would not take the chance. He needed Blake and there was no one else he trusted.

"Father? How long do we wait for Micah to come home of his own accord before we go get him?"

Johan continued reading the results for another few minutes. He looked them over at least twice a day, but he loved the numbers and notations and couldn't seem to put them down. He finally took a deep breath, tossed the comp onto the desk and looked at his son.

"One month. I will allow him one month to show his face on my doorstep. If he doesn't, you go down there and drag him back, by the hair if you have to. I don't care who you have to threaten, what threats you have to carry out, but he must be here no later than five weeks from now. That will give you one week to travel down, find him and travel back. Will that be enough for you?"

"Of course," Blake confirmed, hoping against hope that he was telling the truth. If he failed, his usefulness would likely be at an end. If he thought he would not meet the deadline, he would make sure he never came back. "I know where he lives, where he works and where his cousin lives. Over the next month, I will ensure the tail we have on him continues to make sure we can find him as quickly as possible."

"Good, I knew I could count on you. You're the only family who's never let me down. If this formula works as I believe it will, you will benefit from it with me."

Blake nodded his head in thanks and acceptance before taking his leave. Dear God, he was damned. At moments like these, Blake wanted nothing more than to get in touch with Micah and let him know the truth. He dreamed of giving up all information he had on his father, and then walking out into the sun. The only thing that stopped him was the memory of a little boy. Blake remembered being teased by his cousins about not having a mother or a father of his own. That little boy looked up to the man who claimed to be his father and lavished him with love and toys; the man who gave him the affection he so desperately craved.

He was damned for sure, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it now.



A Taste of Home Ch. 05



The gas station was finally empty. This was the first time it had been so busy after midnight since Micah started working there. He sat down behind the counter with his procedures text and found his place. He'd barely read a page when he absently glanced out the windows to the pumps and noticed a folded piece of paper. Someone had tucked it beneath the side of the register.

He reached out and picked it up, wondering if it might be instructions from the owner that the evening clerk forgot to give him. His fingers numbed at the words written and the paper fluttered to the floor. You have one month to present yourself to me of your own free will. After that time, we will bring you back by force. JT & BT.

Although Micah knew there was no one within the store area, he jumped to his feet and looked carefully through all the aisles. When they proved empty, he sat down again and chewed nervously on his bottom lip. He hadn't noticed anyone linger without purpose, so had no clue as to who could have left the note. His grandfather had someone watching him here in Rutherford, and it could be anyone. He needed to keep a careful eye on his surroundings, to see if anyone seemed out of place. A face that kept cropping up wherever he went would give him a clue as to the identity of his stalker.

If he only knew whether his watcher was a nightwalker or not, he might be able to find him. Without the knowledge, however, it was best not to do anything right now. Perhaps his boss would let him watch the security server. His eyes would pick up anyone moving with nightwalker speed on the recording. Of course, from now on, he would be on the alert for the movement in real time as well.

His texts couldn't keep his attention for more than a few moments at a time. After half an hour, he tucked them away and paced up and down the aisles. In the morning, he would bring the note to Ryan and hope that the lab could tease a clue or a print from the paper. Reading through the note again, his eyes stopped on the signature. JT & BT. If he understood correctly, BT would be the Blake his grandfather spoke to on the phone those many years ago. Did this mean that Blake was a Taylor? Perhaps a brother to his grandfather? There was no mention of anyone named Blake in any of the papers or family histories. Was it only a coincidence that his last name began with the same letter?

Micah served two customers absently, not forgetting his smile and easy words, but his mind was elsewhere. As he watched them leave, his heart picked up its beat. Simon was here. He stood beside his car, head turned down. He took a few steps forward, paused, and then moved back to his car. Once again, he did the same thing. Finally, he squared his shoulders and marched inside.

"Simon," Micah breathed, feeling something deep inside. He desperately wanted Simon to agree to his terms. If Simon refused, Micah knew he needed to cut off all contact. He also knew that he didn't want to do it. "I'm so happy you came. I planned on calling you in the morning, one way or the other."

"I didn't know that you would want to see me. I've driven around for almost two hours, trying to gather my courage up to see you."

The soft voice washed over Micah. It made him want to melt and cry. No one who spoke with such care in his voice could be all bad. If only Simon wanted to be with him, wanted to have more than just quick encounters for feeding and sex, Micah would give almost anything. To have the chance to be with Simon, for them to be together, Micah knew he had to speak openly and honestly about his needs and expectations.

"I need to apologize to you, Simon. That first night in the club, we had an intense encounter. I think we both believed we wouldn't meet again after that night. The next time, I needed to feed and our attraction was strong. After that...after that, I should have made my feelings clear. I assumed that since we kept seeing each other, there was more between us than what there obviously was. I imposed my rules on you, insisting we eat dinner and such. I never asked what you expected, and didn't let you know that I was not comfortable with the way things were going."

"No. You told me you shouldn't feed from me so often and I completely ignored you. I didn't treat you very well during our sexual encounters and I didn't even think twice about it. I didn't consciously set out to hurt you, or use you in any way, but once you fed it's like I wasn't in control of myself anymore."

Micah chewed on his lower lip as he considered how to say what was on his mind. The best thing to do was simply come out with it, yet it seemed a little out of context. "I think we should both say what we want and expect. Perhaps what you want won't be acceptable to me, or what I want won't be acceptable to you. There is room for compromise, I suppose, but neither of us should do anything we aren't comfortable with."

Two cars of college-aged young men pulled up and there was a boisterous interruption to their discussion. Micah watched Simon carefully even as he kept a close eye on the half-drunk guys wandering about. One young man seemed intent on hitting on Micah, but he back off quickly enough with just one flash of nightwalker fangs. It amused Micah to see him hurry off to his friends, as well as the surprised looks the others sent in his direction.

There were no problems. As each young man came to pay or wait for his friends, they were quiet and careful. Micah gave them a wide smile, displaying his fangs shamelessly. He was certain that, even without the fangs, they wouldn't have done anything. Tried to hit on him, give him a little verbal annoyance, but nothing physical at all. Still, he didn't believe in taking chances.

"Did you enjoy that?" Simon asked, offering a grin. Micah laughed in answer

"I did. I don't mind a bit of banter most of the time, but sometimes it's best to let people know where they stand right off the bat."

Neither one spoke for several minutes, and Micah began to get nervous. He took his rag and carefully wiped down the counter and rearranged the displays near the register. Soon he had to go replenish the coffee machines, but it could wait a bit longer. His nerves stretched taut as he waited for Simon to speak. It was unfair of him, but he wanted Simon to make his position clear before he said anything. He needed to know where he stood and how much leeway he could give.

"I've never had any kind of relationship, or even any kind of intimacy, with a man before you," Simon said finally. He nodded at the gasp of surprise from Micah at the confession. "There was some groping once, when I was about fifteen, but I kind of pushed it from my mind a long time ago. I made it into a dream, best forgotten. We were just about to indulge in a blowjob when we heard the lady who hired us to work her yard calling for us."

"That's...wow, that's kind of amazing. I remember thinking that perhaps you were inexperienced, but dismissed it because what you did was so right."

"The first time I saw you, in the club, I wanted you. While I've always admired Pen, thought him beautiful, what I felt for you was so much more. There's no confusing the two of you in my mind. When I look at him, I feel admiration and friendship, more maybe than what I feel for other men, Ryan for example, but nothing like what I feel for you. I see you and my blood boils. I see you and I want all of you."

"I felt a strong attraction to you right from the start too. I wouldn't have propositioned you at the club otherwise. Believe me, sex with strangers is something I've never indulged in before." Micah shook his head. He needed to get the rest of it out, no matter if it ended things between them. His heart couldn't take anything less. "If you want to keep seeing me, it can't be about blood for sex. Not anymore. We have to have real dates and it has to be about making love. It's my fault things got to this point, and I'm sorry about waiting so long before saying anything. If you want to use me for the pleasurable sensations of the feeding and quick sex while dating...other people, tell me now and we'll go our separate ways."

"I'm not seeing anyone else. I invited Audrey that night for the dinner, nothing else." Simon moved closer to the counter and reached over to take hold of Micah's hand. He marveled at how strong it was, even though it was small and so soft in his grasp. "I'd like to try. That's all I can promise for now, but I want to try. You'll have to be a bit patient with me, though. I don't know anything about making love to a man."

"You started out well enough that night in the club. Truthfully, making love to a man is not so different from making love to a woman. All the kisses and touches are the same, with only a slight change of topography."

"Will you give me the chance, Micah? Tell me if I do something wrong, or if there's something more you want me to do?"

"Yes, as long as you agree to this one condition right now." He waited until he had Simon's complete attention before going on. Micah knew that now was when Simon would change his mind, if he wasn't serious. "The first few times we're together, there will be no feeding. I don't want the feeding to get all mixed up with the sex."

"I won't promise not to ask, but I do promise not to insist if you say no."

Micah felt full of happiness, enough to burst from it. He almost ran around the counter to jump at Simon and claim a kiss. The taste of this man, even from just a kiss, was enough to send his head spinning and his fingers to dig into hard biceps. It took all his concentration not to allow his fangs to nick the tender skin of those lips pressed against his own, or bite into the tongue that swept through his mouth.

They pulled back at the same moment, staring into each other's eyes and breathing heavily. Simon said something about leaving before he forgot his promises. Micah bit his lip again to keep from telling Simon to forget about any promises. It wouldn't do at all to give in to temptation. It would thrust him back into the same pattern they were in before.

They made plans to meet as they used to, after work for Simon and after Micah was up for the night. It was a Friday night, and they decided that after dinner, they would go to one of the clubs in the area that didn't frown on having a nightwalker patron. They didn't say anything about what would happen later. If they decided to have sex, it would come about because it's what they both wanted, not because it's what they would have done in the past.

Without feeding, Micah reminded himself forcefully as he watched Simon drive away. He couldn't give in. Even if he craved the taste of Simon, Micah was decided that they would make love at least three times before he gave in. He would wait before he gave himself permission to experience a taste of home again.

Pen and Ryan had breakfast waiting for Micah when he arrived. He'd promised to meet them this morning, so they could be sure he was feeling all right. Micah decided that, since he and Simon were making a new start, then he should act as though he was seeing someone new. Unsure how Simon wanted to address the issue with his friends and co-workers, Micah needed to be very careful.

His smile immediately told his the other men that he'd had a very good night. Pen moved forward, his own smile relieved at the change he perceived in his cousin. "You look so much better."

"Yes," Micah answered simply. "Someone came into the station last night, someone you both know, and now I have a nice date planned for this evening. I won't tell you who it is, not yet at any rate, but we spoke for a time, and I was very up front with what I did and did not want from any relationship."

He suddenly remembered the note and fished it out of his pocket. With everything that had happened with Simon, he'd put it from his mind, which was a good thing. Ryan frowned and cursed after he read through it. He excused himself to call in a request for someone to download and examine the gas station recordings, in hopes of seeing whoever had left the note for Micah to find. He was as doubtful of success as Micah was, but there was no harm in trying.

******

Dinner was wonderful. Micah didn't want to push Simon too much and so chose a small, out-of-the-way restaurant where it was easy to blend into the background. He knew which topics of conversation to avoid. Best to proceed slowly, to try and tease the information he wanted to know a little bit at a time, once they were more comfortable with one another.

They went back to Micah's apartment to change clothes for their outing to the club. Micah took his time in the bathroom, fixing his hair up and applying a bit of cosmetics. This was something he'd never done with Simon before. He didn't do much, just a bit of color to his eyelids and lips along with a stroke of glitter over his cheekbones and collarbone. Nothing too obvious, but enough to make it special.

Before rejoining Simon, Micah stepped back as much as he could from the mirror, stepping up onto the edge of the tub to get a full view. The blue leather pants were tight enough to show his body off to perfection. He really liked the way they molded over his ass. The waist was different, higher in the back than in the front, where it dipped perilously low. In daylight, they would be scandalous His top was a sheer, scoop-neck shirt, the opening large enough that it left his entire chest bare. It covered him to the tops of his thighs, yet anyone could easily see through it and admire the chain he secured around his hips. The single sapphire stone on the chain lay just above the snap of his pants, drawing attention directly to his groin.

He stood there for a few minutes, wondering if he should change the shirt. Maybe it was a little slutty looking. There were a few tight shirts he could change into, or the black vest might be a better idea. He bit his lip, uncertain about what to do. He'd never had so much trouble choosing an outfit.

"Are you almost ready, Micah? I don't want to push you, but..."

"Nearly. I think I need to change shirts. This one doesn't...I don't know, it just doesn't feel right." Micah frowned, and then he closed his eyes for a count of five and quickly opened them, trying to get a first impression. "Yes, I definitely need to change shirts. Two more minutes and I'll be ready."

He left the bathroom and stood in front of his closet, torn between a white shirt and his black leather vest. He'd almost decided to wear both when Simon wrapped his arms around him. Those big warm hands pushed up beneath the flimsy material to stroke his stomach. His breath caught in his throat and he closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation more fully.

"Simon, if you don't stop that, we won't leave for the club any time soon," he breathed, leaning his head back on Simon's broad chest.

"I'm trying to care, but it's just not happening. You're so fucking gorgeous. Tell me to let go. Tell me to back away so you can get dressed."

Micah opened his mouth, but all that emerged was a low whimpering moan. He felt the tips of Simon's fingers rub against his lower belly, just above the waistband of his pants. The sensation was incredible, causing his muscles to flutter and a wave of goosebumps to cover his skin. He covered those hands with his own, neither helping nor hindering, just wanting the contact. "I can't tell you that. Touch me, Simon, we can dance tomorrow night."

Micah turned in the circle of Simon's arms and looked up into his face. The expression there kept him still. He could see desire and that hint of something more, an elusive something that he didn't dare yet put a name to. He stared into beautiful brown eyes, unable to look away, wanting to drown in them forever.

"Je veux te baiser, mon bel ange."

"Yes. Kiss me, Simon. Kiss me, touch me, and show me what making love is between the two of us. Make me scream and fly."

Simon shuddered at the words, whispered from that gorgeous mouth. Usually, when he slipped into French, his partners would pause and ask him for a translation, if they weren't too far ahead in the seduction. Micah seemed to understand him perfectly.

For a moment, he wondered how he was supposed to touch Micah, but then remembered the words from the gas station. Making love to a man is not so different from making love to a woman. All the kisses and touches are the same, with only a slight change of topography. He allowed his fingers to ghost along Micah's jaw. He turned his fingers and allowed his knuckles to drift down over the line of the throat to deceptively strong shoulder.

He moved slowly forward and pressed their lips together, a quick touch before moving away and pulling the slender body closer. Again, he kissed Micah, pressing a little harder and longer, and pulling away again. He allowed his hand to drift downwards, rubbing against the leather-clad butt as he sought to get beneath the loose shirt.

Micah whimpered and parted his lips, as his eyes grew heavy with desire. Delicate touches revealed that Micah's hands also wanted to touch skin, pushing up beneath his faded red t-shirt. Things were so easy between them. Simon didn't care anymore that Micah was a man, he just wanted to make love with him, experience everything he'd tried to avoid during their times together.

"Let's go to the bed," he suggested, kissing those soft lips again and again, tasting quickly so he didn't become overwhelmed. "I want us both naked. If, however, you're not ready for this, tell me now while I can still pull away."

Micah walked them towards the bed in answer. His body was on overload from the gentle caring shown him by this man. Each kiss and caress was so precious, since it was such a departure to how Simon treated him before. He'd thought the kissing and touching before were wonderful, but they didn't begin to compare with what happened now. He couldn't quite say what the difference was, only that there was a difference.

Rather than let them fall together onto the bed, Simon instead laid him down gently. Micah tried to reach out for Simon, to pull the man down on top of him, but Simon resisted his effort. Instead, there began a sensual assault of his body. With a combination of lips, tongue, teeth, and hands, every inch was touched and caressed. Simon began at his forehead and worked his way down, taking his time with every part of his anatomy. Micah found himself mewling and writhing helplessly by the time Simon was barely to his shoulders.

Both nipples were treated to intense attention, licked and sucked until they were nearly painful. Micah loved every moment. His body twitched and jerked when Simon's mouth found its way to his stomach, licking around his navel and dipping inside at random intervals. The idea of the next destination in line made him fist his hands in the sheets beneath him, anticipation trying to drive him mad.

"What? No, Simon, please!" Micah wailed when Simon removed himself and urged him onto his stomach. "Simon, I need you. Please, touch me!"

Using a pillow to make sure he was comfortable, Simon whispered reassuringly in his ear. "Shush now, and trust me. I need to give your back the same attention I gave to your front. Will you let me do this for you? I really want to do this."

Micah was lost in a haze of lust and pleasure. He felt as though he and Simon were in their own private world, away from all the problems of life. Nothing existed beyond the boundaries of the bed. He couldn't stop the whimpers and moans that emerged with each touch to his skin, burning him as surely as the sun.

Simon knew arousal such as he'd never experienced before. This one man touched him in ways that amazed him. Was it because he was a man, or simply because it was Micah? At that moment, Simon didn't care to find out. His eyes drank in the sight of the porcelain skin, covered in a sheen of sweat. He leaned forward and blew softly down Micah's spine, delighting in the resulting shiver and goosebumps. His tongue dragged down, passing over each vertebra until he reached the small of the back and the heavier sweat gathered there.




A Taste of Home Ch. 05



Now that he was committed to being with Micah, he wanted to do everything. Simon stroked his hands over the firm ass, digging in his fingers as he parted it to reveal the center of pleasure. It was the place he wanted to be, where he ached to be, yet it looked so very tiny. He found the lube on the bedside table and coated his fingers with the cool gel. Reverently, he circled the hole, amazed that something so small could stretch enough to accommodate his cock. He knew it could, he'd been inside Micah many times before, but right now, he almost didn't believe.

"Simon. Please, I need you inside me."

Micah could barely recognize the strained voice as his own. His entire body was so sensitive that even Simon's breath on his overheated skin pushed him closer to orgasm. He lifted onto his knees, elevating his ass so it was more accessible. Anything to entice Simon to move faster, to give him the relief he so desperately needed.

As the first thick finger pushed into his body, he cried out, body trembling with need and fangs drawing blood as he bit on his lip. He wanted to hang on, wait for Simon to be inside him before he climaxed. Reaching beneath his body, Micah tugged and squeezed his balls in hopes it would help him resist. The flash of pain only helped a little and couldn't put off the inevitable for long. He begged and pleaded, whining uncontrollably, for Simon to get a move on and fuck him already.

"Ah non, beauté. I'm not going to fuck you. I'm going to make love to you. Make love with you. First, though, I'm going to get you ready. I don't ever want to hurt you again."

"I'm ready right now, I swear I am. Let me see you, though. I want to make love with you face to face." He tried to help, he truly did, but he couldn't seem to gain any control on his limbs.

Had he not been almost delirious with lust and desire, Micah might have been embarrassed by the sound that was torn from him as Simon entered his body. It sounded like either a cat in heat or a cat being tortured. His fingers dug into the broad, muscular back above him deeply enough to draw beads of blood. The only part of his body to keep contact with the bed was his head as his body arched with the force of his release.

Simon couldn't move as he held himself above Micah. He stared down at his lover with awe, reveling at the strength of the legs wrapped around his hips and the sweet pain of fingernails scoring his back. No one had ever been as beautiful in his arms as they reached their climax.

He waited until Micah relaxed some, panting and holding on tight, and then leaned down to whisper against his ear. "Are you ready for more? Je pourrais te regarder comme ça pendant une éternité." Hazy blue eyes looked at him, almost lost as Micah floated happily in languid satisfaction. They widened in shock when Simon moved his hips in a tiny circle.

Micah wanted to answer, but his brain seemed disconnected from his mouth. Disconnected from the rest of his body if truth be told. All that emerged was a soft sigh that he hoped told Simon that he was ready for anything. With intense concentration, he slid his hands down from Simon's back and then brought them up over his head. He shifted his legs a little higher, the movement letting Simon stroke over his prostate with every thrust.

"You will absolutely get to see me come again, Simon," he finally managed to say. Their eyes locked together and Micah could feel himself falling. At any other time he might be afraid, but right now it only felt right. "Can you feel how hard you've managed to get me already? It won't take long for me. Oh shit, it feels so good."

The long steady thrusts into his body began to get a little less controlled. They pounded him hard and fast into the mattress and he moaned his approval. Micah clenched his fingers into the silky brown hair that was beginning to get wet from Simon's exertions. At the thought that he was also soaked in sweat from their activities shoved him neatly over the edge. The suddenness of his second climax surprised him and he barely had the presence of mind to rein in his strength as he wailed. Taking care with his partners was second nature, he never usually had to think about it as they were invariably full humans, but right then it was a close thing.

He was beginning to come down from the heights when he felt Simon stiffen and cry out his own orgasm. The feeling of wet heat coating his insides drew another two spurts from his cock and he momentarily succumbed to darkness. Simon was still panting above him when he regained his senses. He pulled the bigger man down to claim a kiss, urging him to press his body down. Micah adored the feeling of a lover giving him his entire weight, and it was even better now that he was wrung out.

"Micah, Micah. God that was amazing. Tu es merveilleux, beauté. Si extraordinaire." 

"You...Simon you...I mean, I didn't imagine. Damn, that was beyond anything I've ever known before." Micah watched the other man get up to fetch a towel. He smiled at the slight stagger. His heart swelled with love but he pushed it back down. It was much too early to reveal that depth of emotion.

If only there was someone he could call to tell them he was happy. Happy didn't seem an adequate word to describe how he felt about the man who now walked towards him, with a wet cloth and towel in hand. His entire body felt softer somehow, after Simon's thorough loving. Nobody had ever taken such time and care with him before. The difference between this encounter and all others with Simon weren't comparable.

But he couldn't talk to anyone about this. It didn't seem proper to discuss their lovemaking, but more than that, he didn't think that Simon would want anyone to know yet. Simon told him that he'd never really been with a man, had never considered it. Did he want people to know? Right now, it was too soon to talk about their possible relationship. There was time to know what they both wanted and how far they wanted to take it.

Micah only hoped that they both wanted the same thing.

******

Simon couldn't take his eyes off Micah, who was dancing in front of him at Spartan. They'd come here on their second attempt to go out and decided they really loved the place. Micah looked like an angel, dressed in loose pants of a silk-like material in a golden hue. The matching top, white with strips of the same golden material, was stuck to his sweat-covered chest and back. Coupled with his incredibly white skin and pale-blond hair, he looked entirely edible.

Everyone else on the dance floor found him to be as alluring as Simon did. In spite of the fact that Micah only had eyes for Simon, men and women flocked around the small man, constantly trying to cut in. Flames of jealousy flared, but didn't last too long as these interlopers were ignored. He began to feel proud that this beautiful man was with him.

Suddenly, Micah stopped dancing and stepped close to whisper in Simon's ear, sending a delicious shudder through his body. "I need to cool off. I'll go to the bathroom, and then a glass of something to drink would be wonderful."

As Micah stepped back, Simon noticed something he hadn't seen even two hours earlier, when he'd picked up Micah from his apartment. There were purplish shadows beneath his eyes, and those blue eyes seemed different. Pained, if forced to put a name to what he saw.

"Are you feeling all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Micah's attempt at a smile fell flat, his lips trembling and his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I'm fine. Just...Simon, I just need to rest for a minute. I'll be back soon."

Simon made his way to the bar to order his and Micah's drinks, beer for him and fruit juice for Micah. Half his beer was gone by the time he started to worry at Micah's continued absence. What could be taking so long? There couldn't be that many people waiting to use the bathrooms, and even so, the men's room usually took a lot less time than the women's.

His eyes scanned the area carefully. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. People continued to dance and the waiters and waitresses moved with unhurried ease through the throng. Simon picked up their drinks and wandered towards the back. It wouldn't hurt anything to go and check that everything was all right. The worst that could happen was that he would annoy Micah.

A crowd stood outside the bathroom doors, those nearest the door peering inside, while the rest murmured together and tried to see better. Nobody he asked could answer him about what was going on, so he started trying to force his way closer. None of those outside was Micah and his worry increased.

"Is there a Simon here?" A large young man looked out from the bathroom. He glanced nervously back over his shoulder. "This guy in here is asking for someone named Simon."

"That's me."

The crowd parted, giving him free access. He thrust the beer and juice at someone and went in, wondering at what he would see. At first, he didn't see anything. Four or five men stood in a loose semi-circle, looking towards the sinks. Simon's first glance didn't show anything out of the ordinary and he frowned. One of the men pointed down, and he realized that Micah was sitting on the floor beyond the final sink, almost pushed into the corner.

A gasp escaped him at the sight of Micah. His fingers were pulling at his hair with enough force to move his head back and forth. The faint purple bruises he'd noticed earlier had blossomed and darkened to near black, now also staining the lids. The usually pink and plump lips were pressed into a thin, white line. Whatever had happened, it was obvious to Simon that Micah was in severe pain or distress.

One of the onlookers took up a belligerent stance, trying to block Simon from approaching too near. "How are we to know you're this Simon? Maybe you're the person what's caused this problem and are here now to take advantage."

"Here's my badge. My name is Simon Rousseau, and I'm an agent with the NCB. This is my date and you damned well better get out of my way. I don't particularly care if you believe me or not, but you will care if you don't let me pass." His fierce expression and words startled the others and they all, even his challenger, moved back to allow him access.

"Micah, talk to me," he pleaded, dropping to his knees beside Micah, unheeding of the condition of the floor. "Don't tell me you're fine, you look terrible."

"He's whispering in my mind. He's trying to get me to leave the club and go to him. His voice is like shards of glass digging in my brain. I realize now, too late, that he's been trying for a long time, but couldn't...couldn't get through, I guess. Why he can now, tonight, I don't know. It feels like I'm going crazy!"

Reaching out, Simon removed Micah's hands from his head and held onto them tightly. "Who is 'he', Micah? I don't understand. Talk to me, tell me more." He noticed those beautiful blue eyes, the eyes that always showed passion when they made love, shift to red for a moment. He swallowed thickly, but didn't retreat.

"Grandfather. Grandfather wants me to leave the club and go with...with someone who will take me to him. He's waiting for me and needs me to go soon. There's something he needs from me, something that only I can give him or do for him. I'm not sure which it is."

"Look at me. You can shut it out. Let me take you home and everything will get better. I won't let him take you away." Another idea popped into his head, and he leaned forward even more so he could speak with a lowered voice. Not because he didn't want to be overheard, what they'd already said was strange enough, but to make sure he put enough emphasis on the idea. "Do you think you could, I don't know, send your own thought back?"

The suggestion startled Micah enough that his face cleared for a few seconds as he considered. The unexpectedness of the words allowed him to gain mastery and let him think properly. He closed his eyes and, with a quick nod, attempted to follow the thought back to the sender, either to see what was at the other end or stop it once and for all.

It didn't take more than a few seconds before Micah's entire body stiffened and bowed, as though struck with an electric current. He moaned as his head cracked against the wall. Simon hurriedly bent forward, pulling the stiff body against his to protect it from further harm. He spoke quietly, saying he was sorry for suggesting such a thing and begging Micah to come back and break the link completely. The abrupt way the small body turned limped scared him down to his toes.

"Grandfather whispered to Uncle Kylen. It was because of him that Uncle Kylen attacked Pen and died. He loved Pen so very much and didn't want to do it, but the connection was so much stronger between father and son."

"Enough about that. Come on, let's get you home. You don't look well at all. You've gone beyond being white to being almost gray." Simon scooped Micah up into his arms and carried him out of the bathroom.

Rather than try to fight their way through the main club, one of the bouncers directed them to the emergency exit. Frightened and worried, Simon ignored Micah, who said he was strong enough to walk to the car. He laid his precious bundle onto the back seat with orders to stay there and drove them to his apartment. He'd fixed up a room for Micah to use once they began their new relationship, so he didn't worry about being rushed in the morning for Micah to be hidden from the sun.

"Simon, I didn't see everything, or all that much really, but I did get the sense that he has finished testing on some formulas. One is an improved version of the formula tested on those daywalkers. This one, however, will not have any effect on nightwalkers. The other is strictly to transform nightwalkers. He's killed, no, is planning to kill, the scientist who developed and tested them, so he will have sole control over them. I also saw Blake, and he's a larger version of all of us. His hair is darker, but still blond, and his eyes are dark, either brown or black. They're in Canada, still, but I couldn't tell where at all. There's something else..."

Simon waited for Micah to continue, but there was only silence. He didn't want to push, but thought it might be best to get all the information now while it was fresh. Sometimes, he hated that he could always think like an agent, especially when he was so worried about his lover.

"What else, beauté?"

"He's insane," Micah whispered brokenly. "What's worse is that he's brilliant in his insanity."

Neither man spoke for the duration of the drive, each one lost in his private thoughts. It was nearing one in the morning as Simon unlocked the door to his apartment and helped Micah walk inside. Simon didn't like the other man's appearance at all. He quickly directed them to the bathroom and prepared the shower. A shower wouldn't take away the dark bruises around those pretty eyes, but he had to do something to help.

Once they were out and dried, they sat in the living room, wrapped around each other to give and receive comfort. The normally soft and supple skin felt rough and cold beneath Simon's fingers. Tremors wracked the small body from time to time. Simon was ready to beg Micah to tell him what he could do to help, but a deep inhalation informed him Micah was about to speak.

"Simon, I need to feed."

Guilt slammed into his body, causing him to tighten his hold. "Damn, of course! I should have offered. I'm a little afraid, though. It's not that I'm afraid of you feeding from me, but of my behavior after. I'd hate it if I got overwhelmed and treated you like I used to. What we have together now is so much better and special to me."

"I'm not worried, but if you are, maybe you could get me ready beforehand? I do understand that sometimes the sensations of feeding can be...intense and difficult to resist."

"I have a much better idea," Simon told him. He'd toyed with the idea for a while, and now he turned Micah to face him while he revealed it. "I want you to make love to me while you feed." Micah's shock couldn't have been plainer on his pale, delicate face.

"But we've never done that! You've never done that! Are you sure you...?"

"I've never been more sure of anything."

Not giving Micah the chance to say anything more, Simon scooped him up and carried him to the bedroom. No more words passed between them. Micah draped himself over Simon and kissed him. It began as a gentle, searching kiss, as Micah gave him the chance to change his mind and take charge. When he didn't, the kiss turned deeper, one designed to dominate and arouse.

Knowledgeable fingers drifted down until they could linger and tease Simon's nipples, making them peak and ache. He needed more, a firmer touch, but Micah denied him that. Micah released his lips to warn him that to feed they needed to face each other, but that it would be more uncomfortable for them to make love that way Simon's first time. All Simon said in answer was that he trusted Micah, and knew that any discomfort would quickly pass.

Micah kissed and licked his way down Simon's chest, pausing to pay attention to each nipple before continuing on his downward journey. He pressed a kiss to each hipbone and drew his tongue along the crease from hipbone to groin. With light pressure, he urged Simon to lift his legs and give him access to the sensitive strip of flesh behind Simon's balls. Here Micah lingered, waiting for Simon to relax before dipping down further and touching the tip of his tongue to his virgin hole. Simon almost howled with pleasure.

For longer than Simon thought he could stand it, Micah focused on that spot, kissing and sucking the area thoroughly. Simon knew he was babbling and begging, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He didn't feel any of the fear he'd expected when thinking about this and knew it was all thanks to Micah. His wonderful, loving, and forgiving Micah.

A single slick finger rubbed gently at his opening, pushing forward to begin the task of stretching him. Micah stopped all movement when Simon involuntarily tensed his muscles. Micah murmured words he couldn't understand while he waited, using his other hand to stroke and caress whatever part of Simon's body he could reach. As soon as the finger was able to move freely, another came to join it. Simon moaned, but it didn't feel too uncomfortable, just strange. He moaned again at the wet heat that mouthed at his balls in distraction.

Before too much longer, three slick digits thrust and moved inside his channel, working diligently yet patiently. Simon drew his legs further up to his chest, opening himself more, silently showing that he was ready.

"Are you ready for me, Simon?" Micah's low voice barely broke the spell woven around Simon's senses. "God knows I want to be in you more than anything, but I will stop if you tell me."

"Yes. Fuck yes, I want you, I need you. Please."

Micah moved into position, using his superior strength to lift Simon's hips to make him as comfortable as possible. At the first touch Micah's cock pressing against his untried opening, Simon gasped and tensed. He knew his lover would never hurt him, but the instinct to guard against intrusion was automatic. Quickly, he drew two deep breaths and pushed out, trying his best to relax and allow Micah access to his body. The deep burn was both more than he expected and nowhere near as bad. It was the strangest sensation. Micah paused, waiting before trying to move deeper, one of his hands moving to Simon's penis, which softened at the penetration.

The distraction worked as it should. The hard column of flesh slid further inside, slowly yet inexorably. Simon was in heaven. Even the stretching pain was welcome with the knowledge that it was Micah inside him; Micah making love to him.




A Taste of Home Ch. 05



"That's right, my love," Micah crooned, "you're doing so well. Can you feel me? I'm inside you now, all the way in. I never dreamed anything could be so perfect as you around my cock. It's almost as wonderful as when you're inside me, possessing and loving me."

How was it possible? How could this small, delicate-looking young man take him over so completely? Any further questions were driven from his mind when Micah slowly pulled out and just as slowly thrust back in. It was the most incredible sensation he'd ever imagined. No, he could not have imagined it. He could only echo Micah's words, that it was almost as wonderful as when he was inside Micah's tight body.

Simon felt licking at the side of his throat and tipped his head back. He knew what was coming. He anticipated the bite and nearly came at the thought of it, wondering what it would feel like with his ass being pounded.

Micah's feeding was no less intense than before, but it was different. If anything, it was...sweeter. He yelled out his orgasm, overwhelmed, yet the connection was stronger between them. For a moment, he was terrified at the feeling that filled him as he descended from the peaks of ecstasy, but it was quickly replaced with a feeling of rightness. He wanted nothing more than to share this exquisite sense of finally being home with Micah forever.

"I love you."

"Je t'aime, beauté."

They both made their proclamations at the same time and smiled at each other. Already Micah looked back to normal, the bruising gone and his skin regaining its silky softness. They exchanged tender kisses as their breathing returned to normal. Simon loved the feeling of Micah sprawled on top of him and prevented him from rolling off.

"My parents are never going to understand. I just hope they'll come to accept it."

Micah leaned back and frowned at him. "What do they have to accept or understand?"

"Their most cherished dream is to have a handful of grandchildren to dote on and spoil. I'm their only child and their only chance. That's the reason I've spent my life denying that I might be attracted to men." Simon kissed away the sad expression from Micah's eyes and refused to let him say anything. "I won't deny my heart, beauté, not anymore. I love you and I won't let you go unless it's what you want."

"I would hate to come between you and your family, Simon. Although," he mused thoughtfully, "I don't see why there can't be grandchildren. There are many ways we could go about having children, without actually having them."

Simon rolled them so he was on top. He saw the love in the blue depths and wondered how he could have missed seeing it before now. After kissing for several more minutes, showing each other their love, Micah and Simon wandered to the bathroom to shower, and returned to the bed to rest. Micah declared that he'd been so drained earlier, that he probably could sleep the rest of the night and the day as well.

The doorbell woke them very early in the morning. Micah dressed quickly and went off to see who was there. When Simon arrived a few seconds later, he found Micah looking at him and biting his lower lip worriedly.

"What is it? Who's at the door?"

"It's Ryan and Pen. Do you want me to...?" Micah trailed off, gesturing vaguely towards the bedroom.

"No, I don't want you to go hide. I meant what I said, mon ange. I love you and we don't have to be a secret. It was never my intention to make you feel like you had to hide we were together."

Color flooded Micah's face, but he looked very pleased and relieved. He reached up and kissed Simon deeply, even as he opened the door. Twin gasps of surprise met their display and they smiled against each other's mouths.

******

Pen accepted the cup of coffee Micah offered him without a word, never taking his eyes away from his cousin's face. Micah knew what was on his mind and waited for it to make its way into the conversation. There hadn't been any time for the two to speak privately that morning, when Micah and Simon revealed their relationship.

Ryan had learned about the problem Micah had in the restroom of the club and was surprised to hear that Simon had been present. When they couldn't find Micah at home, the couple made their way to Simon's apartment. After Micah and Simon revealed what happened to him in the club, the two agents left for the office to follow up on the leads. Micah needed to sleep for the day and Pen reluctantly left him to it.

At five o'clock, he was back at Simon's apartment. He'd learned from Ryan that the agents would be at work until at least seven, so they had time to talk now.

"When you told us you were seeing someone we knew, I must say Simon was the last one I would have thought of."

Micah smiled and sat down opposite his cousin. "I know. He's so wonderful, Pen. I've never felt this way about anyone before. I think that being honest right from the start of our relationship really made a difference." It wasn't really a lie; he'd been honest at the start of their new relationship.

Pen smiled and reached over to cover Micah's hand with his own. They didn't need to say more on the subject, just seeing how happy the two men were, how they acted towards each other, was enough to convince Pen that things were well.

"I'm glad. I must say you've been very happy these past two weeks. Ryan and I were a bit worried about you, especially after your last...I hesitate to call it a relationship, but you know what I mean."

With no more pushing for information, they moved to other topics of conversation. Plans were made for a dinner party Ryan and Pen wanted to throw for their close friends and they talked about food and music to prepare. Micah tried to give informed opinions, but cooking just wasn't his thing. He knew what he liked but until recently, he didn't really eat all that much. Dating Simon and spending time with Pen, he'd ingested more food than in the two years before moving to Rutherford.

Pen went to the fridge about half an hour before their men were due to arrive, to see about making supper. He'd told his husband not to eat out, so he wanted to have some food ready for them. It took a little while before Micah realized that the constant stream of words was a cover and that Pen was actually a little upset about something.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. No, really, it's not that something is wrong, but..." Pen shook his head and leaned on the counter with a resigned sigh. "I keep thinking about what you told me, about what happened to my father. It's wonderful to know that he didn't attack me on his own, but at the same time, I feel terrible that I've thought such bad things about him since then."

"It's terrible that one man could destroy so many lives for such a stupid reason." Micah hugged Pen close, giving him what comfort he could.

"There's something I've never understood. I did some research for a paper once, and it said that when a nightwalker was bound, their need for blood was greatly diminished, and any need could be met with animal blood. Everything I read indicated that if humans wanted to feed a nightwalker it was fine, but that it wasn't something common."

Micah frowned and thought about how to answer that question. It wasn't anything he'd ever really thought about. "It's true that we don't have any overwhelming thirst. An unbound nightwalker always needs blood. As I understand it, some compare it to a full human stuck in the desert with no water. Once bound, that sharp thirst is no longer there. We can survive on animal blood, and I think everyone hoped nightwalkers would limit themselves to that supply, but it really doesn't do a thing for us. We prefer human blood and we can generally find people to feed us without difficulty."

"My father never told me any of this. Probably he didn't think it necessary, since my daywalker half was so much stronger than the nightwalker half. Other than fangs when in a heightened emotional state, such as anger or passion, only a scan showed that part of me. How is the binding so specific? I mean, you can drink from a willing human, but how does the binding know if the person is willing or not? Or how can it tell whether you're just feeding or attacking?"

"All I know is that it has to do with chemicals in the blood. If a nightwalker attacks to hurt and injure, the blood lust releases certain chemicals in the saliva, which would react differently with the blood of even a willing feeder. If a person is afraid of a nightwalker, then other chemicals are released in their blood."

Both of them lapsed back into silence, considering how such a thing as chemicals could have such a tremendous impact. Pen mourned the loss of his father anew, really mourned now that he knew the truth of the situation. It wasn't a lack on his part, or that he was unlovable, as he'd thought for so long.

Micah kept quiet, sensing that Pen needed this time to think. Instead, he thought about how big and bright everything was now that his love for Simon was out in the open. And to think Simon returned his love! It was beyond wonderful. He wished there was something more he could do for his lover, something tangible. But what? If he could, he would find Simon's parents and try to make them understand about their son's choice, but that would likely cause more problems. Besides, they might not even have any problems with Simon being gay or in a relationship with a man. From what he could understand, it was simply what Simon thought.

What they wanted were grandchildren. Micah hadn't ever thought about having children of his own. There had never been anyone in his life for the idea to develop. He tried to imagine having a child, a little boy or girl to love and take care of. Suddenly, he realized that he did want that, wanted it desperately. A small sense of dissatisfaction tried to rear its head, but Micah pushed it away. It would be incredible to have a baby that was truly a product of his love for Simon, but that wasn't possible.

Supper was on the table and all they could do was wait for Simon and Ryan to get home. By eight o'clock, Micah and Pen were wandering aimlessly around the apartment. The food was getting cold, and still they were waiting. Each in turn, they went to the windows to look down, but there was nothing to see.

Finally, Micah took his phone and called Simon to see what was keeping them. Pen did the same, calling Ryan, in case the two weren't together. When neither of them got an answer, they simply exchanged a glance, worry clear in their eyes. Pen called the office, only to learn that Simon and Ryan left for home at about six-thirty.

Micah remembered the last time he'd waited for someone to come home. He was younger then, waiting with his mother and sister for his father to come back. Ghislain had gone early that morning to visit his father to confront him. He called to say there was too much to discuss and he would have to stay until late afternoon, to avoid the midday sun. For hours the family paced and peered out the windows, calling uselessly, until a messenger arrived with a letter explaining about Ghislain's death. Grandfather's letter explained why Ghislain was dead and refused to accept any blame for it.

When the knock came at the door, three loud raps, he knew what he would find and nearly drowned in dread. "Oh God," he moaned, eyes closed against the truth. "He's got them. Grandfather got to them somehow."

Pen rushed to the door, since Micah was stuck, unable to move. He returned with an envelope, Micah's name scrawled across the front. "It could be anything. From one of the neighbors, or...or something innocent like that."

Micah shook his head and took the envelope. Although he wanted to throw it away, they needed to know what it said. He would take no chances with Simon's, or Ryan's, life. He would run to his grandfather and give himself up, if only those two men were released, safe and unharmed.

Micah:

You will go downstairs, where you will meet with a driver. He will bring you to me. All communication in and out of the building is blocked for the next half hour, which is the deadline I give you to be downstairs.

Once in the car, I allow you to make one phone call, to your mother only. She should know that you will no longer be in touch with her unless I allow it. She cannot save you, nor can she tell anyone where you are.

Half an hour is the amount of time you have to get downstairs, but the sooner you comply, the sooner your friends will be free.

JT

"All right. Pen, you come down with me and see what kind of car I get into. You can then call that information in from somewhere. Make sure nobody sees you, though."

"No! I'm going down with you. Ryan is my husband and I'm going after him!"

Micah hugged Pen close, hoping that he could make himself clear. "You can't. If you don't let them know what's happened, no one will be able to help. By the time anyone realizes we're gone, it will be too late to track us. Please, I won't let anything happen to Ryan or Simon."

"You can't stop me, Micah! Your mother knows who to contact, as soon as you call her, she'll let them know." Pen's expression was determined. He refused to give up his position. "I can't just sit here while everyone I love is taken away. I'm going."

Helpless to prevent it, unless he was willing to physically restrain or harm his cousin, Micah gave in. Maybe having the two of them there would confuse the person driving them. Maybe the man, or woman, didn't know how to tell them apart. It wasn't the best idea, Micah would much prefer leaving Pen behind, but if their positions were reversed, Micah knew he would want to go help Simon no matter what.

Taking each other's hand for comfort and courage, Pen and Micah walked out of the apartment. A man, average and ordinary in every respect, met them. He stared from one to the other in confusion, before shrugging. He escorted them to a car halfway up the block and ushered them inside. Soon they were on their way, wondering where they would end up and what would happen to them.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

I want to thank everyone again for all the wonderful and kind comments. It's a pleasure for me to share my stories with everyone here, rather than keep them for myself as I used to do. 

Since I'm still working on finishing up the final chapter, if there's something unclear in the story to date, I'd love to hear from you. I can't promise to work an explanation or clarification into the final chapter, but it might give me something to work with in any future stories I might set in the nightwalker/daywalker world. ~Danae



A Taste of Home Ch. 06



Note: Here is the final (and corrected) chapter to Micah and Simon's story. I have to say, I had a lot of difficulty ending this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter and will let me know what you think. For those of you who have read it before, I have added 2 paragraphs at the end, and added to one of Simon's statements a bit before where I've added the paragraphs.-- Danae

============

Micah opened his eyes and squinted against the harsh light. The sight of the small room reminded him that he didn't dream being brought to his grandfather's home. He and Pen travelled with their silent guards, the lone driver soon supplemented by three very large men when they reached the private airfield, and helped each other through the ordeal.

Once on the plane, before it took off, one of the guards handed him a phone and spoke for the first and only time. He told him that he could call his mother, the number programmed in and the only one that would work on the phone. His mother cried for a moment, then promised to call Carlie and let her know what happened. At least someone would know what had happened. Carlie would do all in her power, bring every resource of both the FDPA and the NCB, to effect the rescue of Simon, Ryan, and Pen.

Now all Micah had to do was wait for his grandfather to make an appearance and tell him what all this fuss was about.

Micah wasn't afraid for himself. He was terrified that his grandfather wouldn't let the others go. He was terrified that someone would take his mother and sister away from their safe lives and bring them here to keep him in line. He was terrified that whatever plans his grandfather had, they would succeed. But he wasn't afraid for himself.

God, he was such a liar.

"I suppose you're wondering why I went to all the trouble of getting you here, aren't you?"

"I'm here because you had a doctor, or a scientist, develop some formulas that you want to use on me, to further your own goals of destroying daywalkers and turned nightwalkers, and extending your own life into immortality." Micah grinned at the shocked expression on the old man's face.

His grandfather had grown old. The last time Micah saw him, his grandfather had looked older, but not like this. Rather than a man in his early forties, he now had the appearance of someone in his late sixties to early seventies. Still handsome and upright, but with graying hair and wrinkled skin.

"How did you know that? Who told you of my plans?"

Micah waved away those questions as unimportant, and then decided to answer them anyway. If his grandfather knew that whispering to him would reveal his inner thoughts, maybe he would refrain from trying to control him in that way.

"When you tried to control me the last time, I saw into your mind. That's how I learned about the formulas and how you forced Uncle Kylen into attacking Pen. That's also how I found out that you are completely insane." He took a deep breath to keep his voice as calm and steady as he could. "Have you released the others yet?"

"Not yet. I will keep them here one more day, just to be sure. I wouldn't want them to miss all the fun we'll have. At sunset tomorrow, I'll be back to see you, to begin the process. They will witness the beginning of my glory before being taken back where they belong.

"Now, let me tell you about this room. I had it designed to hold even the strongest nightwalker, which you are not. At the moment, only your right ankle tethers you to your bed. The chain will not break and the control panel to release it is located in another room. Should you prove difficult, we will restrain you by your hands, feet and throat to the bed at all times, rather than just during the...injections of the formula. The restraint is for your own protection, Micah, nothing more, so I suggest you comply quickly when we ask you submit yourself."

"Don't you have any love in your heart, Grandfather? I'm your grandson! Why do you want to do this to me, hurt me and my loved ones?"

"I love my life and I love my eldest son Blake. The rest of you are nothing but disappointments. Your father and uncle were weak, while you and your cousin are lovers of men. There is nothing to love there. Until tomorrow, Micah! Rest well."

The door clanged shut and Micah stared at it in frustration. There would be no reasoning with the man. He would go through with his plan unless stopped, but how could they do that? If only he knew what the plan was, maybe he could try and find a way to be more persuasive in his attempts to stop his grandfather. As it was, he was totally in the dark, too afraid to try to find an escape while Simon, Ryan, and Pen were here and in danger. He didn't want anything bad to happen to them because of him.

The threats against his mother and Jenny were less immediate. Carlie knew that they had to be protected. Once the others left here, they would also do all they could.

Micah hoped he would be able to see them before they left. He wanted to look into Simon's beautiful brown eyes one more time. He wanted to see Simon's love and hold it tight in his heart. He wanted one more kiss, one more touch, so he was able to stand strong against whatever his grandfather threw at him.

******

The past twenty-four hours had been long and endless, and yet Micah wished they would not be over. He heard the lock on the door click open and sat up straight on the bed, straining his ears for any clue about what was to happen next. His grandfather's voice was immediately recognizable. The other voice was also familiar. Micah frowned as he realized that the voice sounded like his own father's voice. Not quite the same, but very close.

"Let's see which of those two is closest to my grandson. I cannot threaten Penlan, if things fail with Micah, I might have to make use of him, and for that, I'll need him intact. Wait two minutes, then open the drapes so they can see each other."

Micah rose to his feet when his grandfather stepped inside. The other man remained outside, out of Micah's view. It had to be Blake and Micah wished he could see the man. Instead, he locked eyes with Johan, careful to keep any expression except confidence from showing. Thoughts and plans swirled through his mind; none of them right without more information.

"Grandfather," he said, keeping his voice even and flat. If he hoped to win anything, he needed to stress their relationship.

"Each of your friends, and your cousin, will be allowed one minute to see you. Afterwards, they will remain in an adjoining room until you've received the first injection. If you fight or resist receiving said injection in any way, one of them will not be leaving these premises. Is that clear?"

Although he tried to get information on what the injection would do, what his grandfather hoped to accomplish, he received no clue. Movement at the edge of his vision made Micah turn his head and he saw the three men who had become so important to him.

Pen, as familiar as his own reflection, stood between Simon and Ryan. He stood straight and tall, so brave, yet his green eyes revealed his worry and fear. Ryan looked at him intently, trying to see any obvious injuries and silently telling him that they would find a way to come back for him as soon as possible. Micah offered a small smile of reassurance, to tell the man he trusted him.

Last of all, he looked at Simon. Handsome, strong Simon, who held his heart and soul. Micah wanted to cry at the amount of love he could see in those brown eyes, so much more than he'd dreamed possible for himself. It was the same kind of love he'd often seen in his parents when he was a boy. Coupled with that love was anguish at their separation, at the knowledge that he could not simply sweep in and take Micah away.

A large man moved close to the trio and indicated one of them follow. Micah barely noticed that Pen answered the summons. He knew this must be the mysterious Blake, but to Micah, he looked like nothing more than a larger version of his father, Ghislain. The hair was slightly darker, the nose larger and hooked, but the rest was the same. His breath caught in his throat. This was another uncle, there could be no doubt about that.

In the moments before Pen came into the room, Micah returned his gaze to Simon. With stunning clarity, Micah knew that no matter what happened, even if they were reunited, things would never be the same. It might be his hands that touched Simon's body, but they would not register the same sensations. It might be his mouth that kissed Simon, but the taste would be different. His eyes could see the future in that endless second, and he knew that, while his love would not fade or disappear, he would never again know the taste of home on his tongue.

"Micah? How are you doing? We'll find a way to get you back, I swear it."

Micah turned and hugged Pen, holding on tightly and whispering his words. They were barely loud enough for Pen to hear, but Micah knew that not even the keenest nightwalker ears would distinguish them.

"I know you will do your best. I have to treat both Ryan and Simon the same, kiss them the same way. Is that all right with you? I would not kiss either of them, but...I'm not strong enough to let him go without a kiss." He waited to feel the nod against his shoulder. "Let them know what I have to do. I love you, Pen."

The stab of sadness and loneliness that went through his heart worried him. How much worse would it be when he watched the man he loved turn around and walk out the door? He couldn't show his weakness or Simon might do something to endanger them all. Of course, he couldn't act as though he didn't care either.

Micah watched as Pen reappeared at the window and embraced each of the men. He knew they received his words as they nodded and met his eyes. Next to come see him was Ryan, walking swiftly into the room to gather him in a tight hug. Their kiss was deep and long, almost certain to fool those watching that there was a deep attachment between them. It was a nice enough kiss, Micah supposed, but it didn't touch his heart. He did feel a wave of heat, but that was to be expected. Ryan was a very handsome man, after all.

"We'll watch over your family, Micah," Ryan whispered, speaking those words that would comfort Micah the most.

They hugged again, forehead to forehead. The pain in Micah's heart increased as he watched Ryan leave. He chided himself to be strong. He couldn't collapse or cry when Simon came and went. His grandfather must have no clue of the depths of his love, if he didn't already know.

Finally, Simon strode into the room and his eyes burned. This kiss, carefully gauged to be as close to Ryan's as possible, was enough to weaken his knees. Micah dug his fingers into Simon's shoulders to keep upright and calm. A thousand words passed between them as they stared at each other, all of them locked up tight so they wouldn't betray themselves. His heart ached and his soul cried out, but only his eyes revealed that truth. His face remained clear and calm.

"I'll be back soon. You'll hardly have time to miss us."

"I know," Micah answered, his voice breaking in spite of everything. "Take care until we're all together again."

He couldn't bear the sight of Simon walking out of his room, his cell, and so he turned his back on it, looking instead to the window. Pen placed his hand on the glass, tears falling freely now. None of them knew what would happen. Even if they returned an hour after their release, Micah would still have received that first injection and they didn't know what the effects would be.

Two men entered his room, he could hear the different footsteps, and he reluctantly turned his attention in their direction. His grandfather and a doctor. The doctor wore a surgical hat and mask, hiding most of his features, although what he did see revealed an older gentleman. Johan indicated the bed. Micah quivered in fear, eyes darting to the partly open doorway. Unfortunately, the threat against his friends defeated him. There was no escape.

The moment he was on the bed, his grandfather pushed him down and attached restraints to both wrists and his free ankle. The bounds were tightened, so he could only move them an inch or so. Micah could see Simon, Pen, and Ryan clearly from his position and closed his eyes against the sight. He didn't want to see their reactions to his predicament.

"As soon as the good doctor here gives you the injection, Blake will escort your friends from the premises. Disgusting, all of you. Men were made to love women, my boy, not other men. To think you came from my blood."

The prick of the needle passed relatively unnoticed, but the liquid forced into his veins did not. He could not describe the pain if asked. It felt like a thousand knives entered his bloodstream and mutilated him from the inside out. Clamping his lips together, Micah fought to keep quiet, desperate not to do anything to worry the audience. It was useless. By the time the sensation reached his shoulder, his mouth opened on a scream that echoed around the small room. Blood gushed from his mouth, from where he bit his tongue while fighting to keep quiet.

When the agony reached his heart, body arching as much as possible off the bed, Micah wished for death to claim him. Even as he screamed, he begged for someone to come and kill him. Darkness smothered him, taking away his senses, and still the pain filled him. It became his only reality, his private hell.

******

Trees passed by outside the windows of the car, yet Simon didn't see them. Nor did he absorb the quiet conversation between his two companions in the back seat. All he could think about was his last sight of the man he loved, screaming in pain. He tried to bring back memories of Micah teasing and in the throes of passion, but those images failed to materialize. The best he could manage were those blue eyes filled with tears of fear and sadness.

A quick glance at his watch when the car slowed and pulled into a service station showed the man had driven them an hour away. The first twenty minutes they were blindfolded, so they could not see. Still, he had taken note of every turn, every curve, in the hopes that they would prove useful later. Ryan had likely done the same.

The guard in the passenger seat left the car and moved to the back door. Clearly, this was as far as they planned on taking them. The driver, a man that Pen said was nearly the spitting image of his father, turned to them and whispered quickly. "Micah is not in danger, not mortal danger. Pen, in your pocket you will find a map and instructions. It is all I can do. All I will do to help. Now go."

Simon slid out behind his two companions and watched in silence as the car drove off. When it was back on the road, he strode off towards the back of the station, needing to be by himself for a moment. He had to be alone for a minute, just a minute to get himself back under control.

He could feel their eyes on him but they gave him his privacy. Leaning his head against the brick wall, Simon let his tears fall. All he could think of was the time he'd wasted when they were first together, afraid because Micah was a man, unable to deal with his feelings. In just a few words, Micah laid to rest his fears of letting his parents down. Why had he never considered different ways of providing grandchildren for his parents? Now it all seemed so clear. Too late. He'd wasted so much time when they could have loved each other, built memories and the beginnings of a life together.

Taking several deep breaths, Simon dashed away all trace of tears from his face. His eyes were probably red and swollen, but he didn't care. There would be time later to indulge his emotions. Right now, he needed to concentrate all his energy on getting back to Micah and releasing him from the grips of that madman, who just happened to be Micah and Pen's grandfather.

Ryan was nowhere in sight when Simon walked back to Pen, who looked so much like Micah that it made Simon's heart squeeze painfully. He wordlessly took the information the blond man left for them in Pen's pocket and looked it over. There was a detailed map with directions traced on it, to show the fastest way to the estate. Another route, traced in a different color, showed a more circuitous approach, which promised to allow them access with less chance of being noticed.

The other piece of paper gave them several security codes for different points of access. A circle showed them the location Micah's room. At the bottom, a personal message was scrawled. It told them that Johan Taylor wanted to make Micah human, and then turn him back into a nightwalker. They would repeat the process several times. Johan believed this would give him extended life.

"We have to get back there now. Has Ryan gone to call in a request for a car?"

"He went to call the agency. As much as I want to go right back, and Ryan does to, we need backup. We need to come up with a plan."

"That will take too long," he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. He knew very well how the NCB operated. First, there would be a debriefing at the agency, where assignments were distributed. Then they needed to travel to a nearby area that was still out of the way. Finally, plans and options would be discussed ad nauseum. At best, the entire thing would take days. "I can't leave him there any longer than absolutely necessary."

"Good news. Mrs. Taylor's phone call to Carlie got things started immediately. NCB and FDPA agents are already in the air. Headquarters are sending our coordinates and rerouting them as we speak. They will meet us here, along with Canadian counterparts, in about three hours. I promise you, Simon, if I think things are moving too slowly, we will leave them here and go on our own."

Ryan knew as well as he did how things would proceed and didn't intend on letting anyone extend Micah's stay. They might be in for an official reprimand for going off on their own, but neither man cared very much.

Pen took Simon's hand in his own and smiled. "Let's give ourselves a deadline. If they don't begin by a certain time, then we simply slip away. We need to be on the same page now, so they don't see us whispering in corners, which would tip our hand. The two of you can make whatever preparations are necessary for us to be ready at a moment's notice."

It was fully dark by then and the three men walked a short ways down the road, where a small diner lay. The food was good and they were almost alone, giving them the time and privacy to decide what to do and when. Pen received some tasks to complete once they had access to a car. Since he wasn't with either agency, he wouldn't be included in the meetings and would be able to move about more freely than the rest.

When their plans were finished, Simon sat and stared out the window. He ached to hold Micah in his arms. It didn't seem possible that only two days before they were in his bed, proclaiming their love to one another. Earlier he wished to be able to remember Micah in happier times, rather than in pain, but the happy memories were just as painful. He hoped that whatever Johan Taylor did, it would not be enough to destroy the beautiful young man who'd turned his life upside-down in the best way possible.

Making a sudden decision, he excused himself and made his way to the payphone at the back of the diner. Telling his parents about Micah over the phone wasn't the best way, but he needed them to know now, in case...His mind refused to finish the thought. Simon needed them to know what was happening, so they could support him. Deep down, in spite of years of fearing what they would do, Simon was certain that his mother and father would understand and accept. Micah deserved to have his family on his side.

******

An anguished scream echoed once again in the small, locked room. This time it had nothing to do with an injection or the pain that followed it. Micah woke and after looking at the clock, realized he'd been unconscious for nearly twelve hours. With careful movements, since all of his muscles were sore, he staggered to his feet, surprised to find that he was completely free of the restraints.




A Taste of Home Ch. 06



Something was wrong. He never had sore muscles before. Lifting his hand to rub at his eyes, he noticed something else: a tracing of blue veins at his wrist. That was new. His mouth grew dry and he propelled himself awkwardly across the small space to where a mirror hung on the wall.

The reflection was what ripped the scream from his already sore throat.

Instead of Micah Taylor, a stranger looked back at him. A stranger with dull brown hair that hung limp and straight. A stranger whose blue eyes were much too dark. A stranger who, when he opened his mouth, had perfectly even teeth. Again he screamed, this time he accompanied the scream with lashing out at the mirror with his fists. No! This couldn't be happening to him. Blood dripped from his torn flesh and he didn't care.

This was his grandfather's plan? How could turning Micah into a full human have anything to do with extending Johan's life? Well, they'd already established that Johan was insane, and this was just further proof. Enraged, Micah grabbed hold of everything within reach to throw at the wall.

Panting from the exertion, something else he'd never experienced when not associated with sex, he dropped down to the floor. As much as he had nothing against full humans, he didn't particularly want to be one. He knew how to be a nightwalker. He knew how to move, how to use his superior strength and speed. He could do almost anything he wanted and not succumb to fatigue. Micah realized some might think he was better than humans, but it wasn't that. It was simply that he only knew how to be a nightwalker.

Not only did he not look like himself, but he didn't feel like himself. Things were different inside and they made him uncomfortable and...and squirmy. Dropping his head on his upraised knees, he sobbed and cried. Micah was dreadfully afraid and didn't know how to deal with it alone.

"You're going to hurt yourself sitting there. Oh, your hands. Come on, I'll clean you up and then you can eat."

Micah turned to see who had come into his room. He hadn't heard the door or the footsteps. All of his senses were gone and he hated it. It was the man, Blake, who looked like his father. "Leave me alone. I don't need your help and I don't need your food." 

"You are human now and you need human food to stay strong and healthy."

"I was human before," he hissed. "I was just as human as my mother, except I was also a nightwalker. Everyone is so stupid, thinking that nightwalkers are more or less than other humans. We are human, just different."

"Eat and let me see to your injuries. Your friends will come to get you soon and you must be ready."

The blood drained from Micah's face, a sensation he found a little disconcerting. "Never! I will kill myself before I let Simon, or anyone, see me like this." As quickly as he lunged towards one of the shards of broken glass, the nightwalker was faster, of course. Micah struggled in vain against the firm hold until he was on his cot again. Curse this weakness!

"So your appearance has changed. Do you think your Simon will care? He loves you, not your appearance." Micah could see that Blake didn't understand.

"The change in my appearance is part of it. I am different inside, too. My heart is different; my thoughts are different, too. The things I touch don't feel the same, and the things I see don't look the same. My body, my ears, my mouth, and my mind! None of them are the same. They've been stolen by a man who had no right to them!"

"You're still alive!"

"But it's not my life!" Micah screamed, yanking at his hair in frustration. He knew what his uncle was saying, he understood the rationale, but he didn't feel it. His voice dropped to a defeated whisper. "Go away and leave me alone. I promise you this: I will do everything I can to destroy the life Johan Taylor has tried to steal for himself."

"Father plans on turning you back into a nightwalker. He believes that by turning you over and over again, drinking your blood which is younger than his, it will give him immortal life."

Blake didn't say anything else, but he cast several worried glances in the direction of the bed as he cleaned up the broken glass. His task complete, he removed anything else that Micah might use as a weapon.

By the fourth day of his captivity, very few people would recognize the young man. In addition to the change in hair color, he was now almost skeletal in appearance. When he was human, the doctor administered liquids and nutrients by IV. This meant Micah needed to be restrained at all times, or he simply ripped out the line. He spent his time staring at the ceiling, singing childhood songs and remembering things best forgotten.

He remembered dancing to popular music. He remembered running through the park, seeing how long he could stand up to the threat of the sun before running home. Most of all, he remembered Simon. The touch of Simon's strong fingers stroking along his skin filled his dreams. Across the ceiling, images of Simon's naked body danced and teased. Each of the man's expressions of desire and passion taunted Micah, telling him of the things he would never see or know again.

The hours when Micah was a nightwalker, when the thirst for blood was strong, he couldn't resist the blood Blake brought, but he took only enough to take the edge off. The blood didn't taste good at all. It was flat and sour in his mouth. Even though he wanted the blood, needed it, the smallest taste revolted him and he couldn't take any more than the bare minimum. He missed the sweet explosion of Simon's blood on his tongue. He craved that incredible taste that was uniquely Simon: the taste of being home, of being safe.

His days in the room had a pattern. In the mornings, his grandfather came in and turned him into a nightwalker. It was as painful a process as turning human was, mostly because Johan did nothing to make the feeding pleasant. The older man simply jumped on him, sinking his fangs in at various points to drink and drain Micah. Throat first, then wrists, inner thighs and ankles. Sometimes, for variety probably, he took bites from Micah's chest and stomach, too. Micah was, of course, barely conscious and didn't remember anything about feeding from his grandfather to complete the process.

In the evenings, Johan came with the doctor to inject him with the formula that would take him back from nightwalker to human. He came to dread the sight of that needle so much. Every day it seemed to get longer and thicker. Micah didn't understand why they didn't leave the IV in, forgetting for longer periods that it wouldn't remain in place while he was a nightwalker. Tonight, the doctor had a pained expression in his eyes.

"I would suggest you eat something after you've changed to human. I'm a little surprised to find you trying to kill yourself in this way."

"I'm not trying to kill myself. The two of you are doing that for me. The blood tastes rancid in my mouth. The scent of food makes me want to puke. Even water, which I always thought smelled like nothing, makes my throat close. Just get it over with, doc."

Micah truly wasn't trying to kill himself. Not since about ten minutes after his first confrontation with Blake. That whole episode was just because he was feeling sorry for himself. Unfortunately, what he told the doctor was the truth. The few times he tried to eat the food Blake brought him, he couldn't do it. Just having it in the same room with him was enough to make him ill. The problem was, transforming from nightwalker to human consumed a whole lot of calories, and he grew weaker and weaker each day. Micah actually blessed the nutrients he got from the IV.

Not that he would ever tell his captors that.

Unfortunately, he didn't stay unconscious for very long after the transformation was complete anymore. When he opened his eyes again, human and frail, there were still residual twitches in his muscles, stinging him with echoes of pain. He whimpered and turned his head to the side. Blake was sitting in a chair, watching him closely with an unreadable expression on his face. Micah might have called it fear, except he couldn't think of anything Blake had to be afraid of.

"Come to gloat over the success of your experimentation? Is my grandfather assured of his eternal life yet? I hope so, because I don't think I'm going to last much longer."

"I think you and I are of the same as to the sanity of Johan Taylor." The words were spoken so quietly, barely more than a breath, that if Blake hadn't spoken directly against his ear, Micah might have missed them completely. "Your friends are getting ready to come back for you. Don't give up now."

Tears welled up and spilled over at the words. Micah wanted to hope -- did hope deep down -- but he didn't think he would see his friends again. The thought of Simon coming here, filled him with terror and elation. Terror in case Simon arrived too late and found nothing but the corpse of a stranger in the place of the man he'd left behind. Terror in case Simon didn't arrive too late and found nothing but a stranger in the place of the man he'd left behind. Elation in case Simon arrived in time to rescue Micah, and didn't care that Micah became a stranger during their time apart.

In truth, he couldn't complain too much about his life. Some parts he would change in a heartbeat, such as the death of his father and the estrangement between his and Pen's family. The rest, even the bad parts, weren't so bad and he could live with them in his past.

One by one, he examined the memories he held of the people in his life. His mother always had easy smile and twinkling brown eyes. He thought about how, when he was little, she always saved cooking the last batch of cookies for after he woke up. Once, she had stayed up all night, even though she had to work the next day, simply because he said he missed her.

His sister Jenny. Micah smiled as he remembered all the fun times they had together, even if they only had a few hours at a time. She always came to him when she was sad or needed someone to talk to about her friends at school. He was the one to hold her while she cried over her first failed relationship. They used to sit together and watch old movies whenever they could. Sometimes, he would wake her up late at night if one of their favorites was playing.

One of the hardest people to think about was his father. As much as Micah loved his mother and sister, he was inevitably closest to his father, since both of them were up all night. Ghislain taught his son the types of people he could safely approach and those he should avoid. They had laughed together, raced against the sun together, and come home to the rest of the family together.

He only had brief flashes of Pen and Ryan. All of his time with them was pleasant and fun, at least after that initial meeting when they were all shocked by how alike Micah and Pen were. He knew they were close friends, quite possibly the closest friends of his life, and they always had a good time together, whether having a meal or going out together for an evening of fun.

There was no need for him to think about Simon now, because he always thought about Simon. Every moment of every day, whether he was human or nightwalker, awake or asleep, Simon was a part of him.

All of his musings took only a moment. He was finished by the time the second teardrop fell from his lashes onto the pillow beneath his head. His limbs began to shake and his heart fluttered painfully in his chest. A low moan preceded the convulsions that sent Blake out of the room to fetch the doctor.

Micah came back to himself and saw that his grandfather was pacing around the room, muttering angrily. Somehow, Micah didn't believe he'd been unconscious for very long. He blinked as he realized that someone spoke to him, the doctor he believed, but didn't have the strength to answer or do more than blink again.

He felt someone lift him, a strong arm curving around his back, until he rested in a semi-reclined position. The doctor walked into his field of vision, moving towards the counter, so Micah figured Blake was behind him. When the doctor came back, he was holding a paper cup and tipped it to Micah's mouth.

"I know you probably can't drink, but let the water touch your lips. If you can stand it, it would be good to allow a drop or two into your mouth. I'm sure it's very dry and could use some lubrication."

Micah tried, but even the tiny bit he ingested closed up his throat and he gagged and choked. Johan's growl of displeasure was unmistakable. "Damned kid, he's doing this on purpose! I need him and he's doing this to try and thwart me. Get me his mother and sister here, right away. He'll fall into line with them being tortured in the next room, where he can hear their screaming." Micah started to pant in fear and despair. The breath wheezed in his lungs and spots danced in front of his eyes as he fought to draw oxygen into his lungs.

"Mr. Taylor, this is not an act. You wouldn't allow us to test multiple doses during the trial. Even if we had, this kind of reaction might not have shown up in our animal test subjects."

"Then what are we supposed to do?"

"My only suggestion is to give him a break. Turn him back into a nightwalker and give him time to fully adjust and heal. I have no clue how long, or if it will even help, but it is all I can suggest at this time. I will take another blood sample and run tests and comparisons to see what is happening in his system. From that, I might be able to form a better hypothesis and come up with something to counteract the effect."

This played well to Micah's quickly thought up plan. His little trip down memory lane hadn't been a dying man's last goodbye to those he knew. Rather, it had been a trip to gather his strength and fill him with rage and purpose. Unfortunately, gaining his strength wasn't as easy as fueling his anger. Thankfully, his plan didn't need him to be strong of body, only of mind. When pitted against his grandfather, crazy as he was, strength of mind wasn't too much of a stretch.

He absently listened to the exchange between the men. Behind him, Blake gave his arms a squeeze, probably in reassurance. Micah didn't need it. If all he accomplished was to give Simon and the others time to get there and take down his grandfather, then that would be enough. It had to be enough. At his grandfather's approach, his eyes glittered with determination and the ghost of a smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

"You must be starting to feel the effects of drinking all my blood, aren't you Grandfather?" One could interpret his question in many ways, and his grandfather gloated as Blake left the bed and lowered Micah to the pillow.

"Absolutely. I feel the youth and longevity coursing through me, just as I knew I would."

"Yes, well, that wasn't what I was referring to, but that actually makes it even better. To tell you the truth, that makes it almost worthwhile." Good thing he didn't need to speak loudly nightwalker ears to hear him.

Johan frowned, completely lost. "What are you talking about? What else could you be referring to?"

"You've turned me three times, going on four, so you must be feeling something by now. I'm referring to that slight tingle down low in your belly when you think of, or look at, another man. I mean, just look at the doctor. He's old but he's not bad looking. The curve of his ass when he bends over is quite tempting when there's no other option around."

"That's preposterous," Johan roared, infuriated at the suggestion. "A person doesn't become gay like...like that." The words were right, but the tone behind them was a bit uncertain.

"Generally speaking, no it doesn't. In this case, however, it's very likely. I mean, being gay is sometimes hereditary, so it's definitely in the family, which makes you predisposed. How else do you think both Pen and I could be gay? And I'm sure you already know that Uncle Blake tends to prefer the male gender, although he does hide it quite well." He was layering the shit on nice and thick, but damn it was a whole lot of fun.

"Blake is married to a lovely young woman and doing his very best to get her pregnant. You are mistaken."

"So he's married." Micah managed a shrug, even though it cost him a lot to do so. "I think we all know that that doesn't mean anything. Maybe he's hidden it from himself. Maybe he's hidden it only from you, to escape your wrath and censure. I don't know and I don't care. We're talking about you. Imagine a nice muscular chest, just a smattering of hair to tease and entice the eye. No, even better, imagine a pair of strong thighs, sleek and long, with soft skin on the inside that begs you to explore with your mouth and hands. Mmm, that skin is very delicious and always leads you up where you'll find the softest, silkiest, tastiest skin of all. It..."

"Shut up! Shut that foul mouth or I'll gut your mother and sister, your friends, everyone you've ever met right in front of your eyes! You and your kind disgust me!" Spit flew from Johan's mouth as he screamed his threats. Strong fingers clamped around Micah's forearm, snapping the bones like brittle twigs. He laughed at Micah's scream of pain, delighting in the agony he inflicted so easily.

It took several minutes before Micah rose above the pain, and when he did, he uttered a short, humorless laugh. "I understand now. I can read your eyes, Grandfather. I can see the truth you hide from yourself and from the world around you. You've always been attracted to men and it frightened you. Of course, you were born in a time where such feelings were forbidden and misunderstood. There is no shame in loving men. The shame is in denying where your desires lie."

A loud, mechanical sound filled the room and caused everyone to flinch in surprise. Before Micah could try and determine what it was or where it came from, Johan attacked him. Sharp fangs sank into his throat, not to drink but to make him bleed. He'd misjudged how far to push his grandfather, or perhaps the interruption did that. Micah thought his grandfather would consult with the doctor, to see if, in truth, Micah's gayness could contaminate him.

The last conscious image he had before feeling the drip of blood pass his lips was very clear. It consisted of him, sitting on a couch beside Simon, with two, no three, shadowed children around them. It was beautiful and made his heart ache.

******

Anger and frustration kept Simon quiet as he, Ryan and Pen drove the borrowed car towards Johan Taylor's estate. He kept quiet because he didn't want to snap and snarl at his companions. It wasn't their fault they couldn't leave until two days past the agreed upon deadline. In fact, he would say they were just as angry and upset about it as he was.

The other agents guessed that Simon wanted to run back right away, he had been vocal in his demands that there be as short a delay as possible, and kept the three of them under tight watch. They were being overly cautious about this whole operation. The whole problem, so far as Simon understood from the little information they received, was that both the NCB and the FDPA wanted to take the lead and each had their own ideas on what to do. He wanted to scream that while they had their disagreements, anything could be happening to Micah.

Finally, Carlie managed to distract their guards and they slipped out to the car she prepared and had waiting for them. At best, they had an hour before the rest of the agents got off their asses and followed. He only hoped they didn't interfere.

"Wait, what is that?" They were approaching the turn for the driveway when Pen leaned forward and pointed to the side of the road. "Is that...is that a body?"

With his heart thudding painfully in his chest, Simon barely waited for the car to stop before he was out of the car and running to the figure lying halfway out of the ditch. There was a lot of blood, but it was apparent that whoever it was, it wasn't Micah. This was an older man, with silver hair.




A Taste of Home Ch. 06



He and Ryan carefully carried the man onto the grass and examined him. Although he was still alive, it was easy to see that unless help arrived soon, he would not last long. The low rasping voice startled them, as the words were clear.

"Good, you're here. There is very little time left for your friend. Ah, Penlan Taylor, I wonder if you remember me. We met once before, albeit very briefly."

"I'm not sure," Pen began, frowning and leaning a little closer. He was quiet for a moment, and then his eyes widened in shock. "Yes! You...Ryan this is the man who cut my hair." Simon remembered hearing this story. The two men had discussed it once during a dinner party. He remembered because Pen got a little upset when Ryan mentioned how cute Pen was with curls around his face.

"What the Hell is going on around here?" Simon stood and walked a short distance away, because he knew shaking the man would only do more harm than good.

"My name is Dr. Benson Freitag. I am unfortunately the person responsible for the development of the formulas your grandfather is using against Micah. When I saw you that night, I wanted to bring you to my offices and get some blood to work on a new formula to change nightwalkers without taking away their good qualities. It was my hope to enmesh the characteristics of both nightwalkers and daywalkers, as they were in you, further enhancing the positive traits I got a little overenthusiastic and panicked when your companion called out for you. That is why I took your hair.

"I was successful, but I had to work in secret, to hide it from your grandfather. All I have is a single vial. You must take it and inject it into Micah as soon as possible. He's...well I hate to say that he is in a very bad way. Over each of the days since you've been gone, he's been turned human and then turned back into a nightwalker. When he's human, he cannot eat. The sight and smell of food and water makes him ill. As a result, Micah is very weak. His physical appearance has also changed. When he's a nightwalker, he claims all the blood he tastes is foul to him and takes barely enough to slake his thirst.

"It is full daylight now, and as a turned nightwalker, he cannot tolerate even a hint of sunlight. This will change him into a half-breed, much as you were. He will no longer have the thirst for blood, and he will be able to withstand even the midday sun." Benson Freitag paused, coughing up blood and weakening visibly. Pen tried to get him to rest, but he refused. "I tried to refuse, I want you to know that, but Johan killed my brother right in front of my eyes. He promised to kill the people closer to me, one by one, if I continued to resist. I am ashamed, but I didn't think I had a choice. Take the vial, half the contents will be enough. It shouldn't take long to take effect, but I can't be positive. I never tested it on anything more advanced than a guinea pig."

"We have to get inside there now. Can we trust this Blake fellow? Will he help us?" Simon was desperate, but knew he needed this information.

"I would say yes. He is not pleased with his role in this. Be wary, in case I am wrong, but I believe he truly wishes to save Micah. Hurry now. Micah insulted Johan, angered him greatly, and I'm afraid of what might happen. Someone was watching the road and sounded the alarm almost ten minutes ago. Go. Save him."

They made the doctor as comfortable as possible, moving him to some shade, where he would still be visible from the road when the agents arrived. As they neared the gate, Ryan parked the car off to the side so they could continue on foot under the cover of the trees. According to the instructions Blake gave them, there was a small door where they could enter. It was safer than trying to get through the main gate, but not unknown to the guards.

Keeping Pen safe between them, Ryan and Simon hurried to the door, entered the security code, and slipped through. Staying within the relative safety of the recessed opening, the men looked in all directions. Nothing seemed to be moving. There didn't appear to be any guards, even in those areas Blake indicated on the map.

Just as they were about to move from their place of concealment, one of the doors on the house flew open and half a dozen guards ran out. From within the house came angry shouts and the sound of things breaking. One of the guards stopped and stared directly at the intruders.

"The old man's gone crazy! He and the Blake fellow are fighting their way through the house, destroying everything in their path. I never saw nightwalkers fight before and I hope never to see anything like it again." The guard threw a keycard in their general direction and pointed at it when it fell in the grass. "That will open the door right around the corner. Go right as soon as you're in the corridor, and your friend's room is third on the right. We know agents are coming. I think we'll just sit next to the doc and wait for them to get here."

Simon dashed forward and grabbed the keycard. Everyone seemed to be going out of their way to lend their help, and he only hoped it wasn't a trick or a trap. It didn't really matter to him. As long as he could get to Micah, he didn't care at all. Reaching the corner of the house seemed to take forever. It took Simon three tries to get the keycard to work and open the door. A thin haze of smoke filled the corridor, making his heart stop in fear. He was afraid to think what it could mean and shoved all thought from his mind. All he could focus on now was getting inside and to Micah.

Pen was the first to reach the corridor where they had to turn and stopped with a horrified gasp. He pressed back against the wall and turned huge, frightened eyes to Simon and Ryan. Simon couldn't hold in the howl of fear when he reached Pen and looked in the direction they needed to go.

Only one door was apparent on the right side of the hallway. After that, fallen debris and dust blocked any possible passage. Blake and Johan struggled together, their fighting apparently responsible for destroying the space. Even as he watched, Simon saw Blake manage to get his hands around the older nightwalker's head and twist. Johan dropped to the floor like a rock, no longer an immediate threat.

"I need your help," the nightwalker called out. "Take his body outside, into the sun, before he heals. I can't do that. I can be of more help here, working at clearing this rubble. My father engaged the mechanism for the panels that protect us from the sun. The controls are on the other side with no way but this corridor to reach them. If we don't move quickly...Micah is a nightwalker now and we have to reach him as soon as possible."

Pen nodded encouragement. "I have the vial. As soon as there's a space large enough, I'll get through and give it to him. Simon, I swear, I'll do whatever I can to get to him fast."

"I know you will, Pen. If you fail, it's because there really was nothing to be done. You love him too."

There's no choice, this is all I can do right now, Simon chanted repeatedly in his mind. He moved automatically, desperate to be the one tearing through the rubble to reach the other side. He knew Ryan was talking to him, trying to reassure him, but Simon couldn't hear the words.

He took great satisfaction in seeing Johan Taylor, the man who had single-handedly destroyed and hurt so many people, scream and burn under the rays of the sun. Ryan stayed with him, watching until all attempts to rise stopped. The last thing they wanted was to turn their backs and risk an attack.

When they returned the hallway, Blake was working more slowly but without stopping, tossing pieces over his shoulder. He worked from the top down, trying to avoid bringing the whole thing down and causing more damage. Pen had already managed to slip through and was now, hopefully, giving Micah the injection that would save him. Simon went and helped clear a wider opening. He wanted to be with Micah, wanted to get to the other side. The physical activity would keep him from going mad.

At long last, the three men cleared away about half the rubble. They still needed to climb, but it was easy enough for them to get through. Once they stood on the other side, Ryan and Blake hung back, letting Simon go forward on his own. His steps were swift and sure, until he saw Pen walk out of the room, tears streaming down his face and mouth working soundlessly.

"Did you...? Pen, were you able to give him the injection?" Simon knew the answer to his question would either save him or destroy him. "Is Micah all right?"

"He's alive," the young man reassured him once he had his voice back. It was thick with tears, breaking at the end of the words. "I don't think he's quite all right, but he is alive, even with the panels gone and the sun shining on him. Go see him, but don't mention anything negative about his appearance. We don't look at all alike anymore. I couldn't take the chains off, either."

Simon took several deep breaths, telling himself not to react no matter what he saw in that room. The last thing he wanted was to do anything that would hurt the man he loved. Pen hugged him tight for a moment then moved off to find his husband. This reunion was for him and Micah, no one else existed in that moment.

His first sight of Micah almost broke his heart. He looked so small on that bed, curled up on his side with his eyes closed and lines of pain plain to see. One hand and one foot remained chained to the bed, the skin probably undamaged simply because he'd been a nightwalker until the most recent injection. Micah also looked painfully thin, his clothes hanging off his body. Although it was warm enough in the room, Simon could see the tiny frame shivering. That could be from either shock or a remnant from the injection Pen gave him.

"I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner, beauté. We'll get you out of here soon, mon bel ange, mon amour." He knelt by the bed and kissed Micah's cool and dry lips.

The eyes fluttered opened, the blues much darker than Simon remembered, but he didn't care. They were still exceptionally beautiful. He needed to move a little closer to hear the words Micah spoke. "I didn't think I'd see you again. At first, I didn't want you to come back. Later, seeing you again was all I had to hold onto. I love you, Simon, so very much. I'm not me anymore, though."

"Of course you're still you," Simon said. He carefully climbed onto the bed, positioning himself behind Micah's body to hold him close. "You're still beautiful, still my beautiful angel."

"But my hair and my eyes, Simon. I don't feel the same inside, either. Grandfather changed everything about me. Nothing is the same."

"I don't believe that. Your heart and your soul are still the same. When I see you, even with the physical differences, I can feel down to my bones that I love you. Unless your grandfather took away your love for me, then he hasn't changed anything that was important."

Voices approached the door, but neither man paid any attention. Micah pressed back into Simon's larger body as much as he could, drawing comfort from the warmth and love. Too soon the agents would come in, and Micah would have to go to the hospital for treatment. In the meantime, the two men just wanted to be together, happy to be reunited and safe.

Simon knew what he said was the truth. It didn't matter to him that Micah was different. His hair was brown now, as long as before but very straight. It would probably be lovely once it clean and brushed. His eyes were still blue, darker and framed by brown lashes, but Simon recognized the love inside them. Simon's heart still missed a beat when he looked in Micah's eyes, and that's all that mattered to him.

He kissed the top of Micah's head and thanked God that they hadn't been too late. Just a few more minutes and...Simon couldn't think about it, even now. They could talk later about everything, but there was one thing Simon needed to say before their reunion was interrupted.

"My parents are at home, waiting for me to call so they can jump on a plane for a visit. They're anxious to meet the man who's won my heart. My mother hardly even drew breath when I told her, just asked when they could come visit. When you feel up to it, you'll have her fussing over you as much as your own mother will be."

"I want to go home, Simon. Home to Rutherford. I want my mother and sister, and your parents, to come visit us in Rutherford."

"Of course. First, you'll have to go to a hospital here, but we'll arrange for transport to Rutherford as soon as possible."

Ryan came into the room, with Pen close behind. They indicated that the restraints should be open and Simon eased Micah's wrist and ankle out, massaging the skin. Micah looked into the faces of his friends, saw their uneasy expressions, and demanded to know what had happened.

"Blake is gone. After showing us the controls for the restraints he walked into one of the rooms on this side of the corridor and...well, it's just past ten, when the sun is strongest, so he..."

Micah was sorry about his uncle, but couldn't mourn him too much. The man could have saved them so much grief if only he'd stood up to Johan Taylor. "Blake tried to be good, I suppose, but he couldn't get out from under his father's thumb. I hope he's at peace, now that he's gone from this world."

******

A low whimper and a gasp sounded in the room. "Oh God, oh please!"

Micah arched his back and grabbed at his lover's head to hold it to his chest. When teeth once again grazed his erect and sensitive nipple, his entire body shuddered in pleasure. This was the first time in the three months since his rescue that Simon was making love to him and he thought he would explode from the pleasurable sensations the man created deep inside his body.

"Simon, I need you. Please, I want to feel you inside me, filling me up. It's been so long. I promise I'm well enough, strong enough, for you to love me."

For the longest time, anything more strenuous that walking from the bedroom to the living room had been so tiring that he would fall asleep wherever he happened to be. As a result, Simon kept his kisses and touches brief. They were wonderful, but just not enough. Now, tonight, Micah wanted to make love with the man he loved. He needed it not only because he loved Simon, but to know that he was well and truly alive.

"Mon amour, tu es ma vie. Je t'adore. Tu es mon destin." Simon caressed Micah tenderly, his hands stroking and touching every possible inch.

Micah moaned, reveling in the touches, wanting more. He wanted everything and could hardly wait. When a slick finger touched the puckered skin of his anus, the moan turned into a cry of need. His hips jerked, searching for a firmer touch. He'd missed this, being intimate with Simon, allowing the man to overwhelm his senses and his control.

When Simon pushed his finger inside, gently working in the lube and stretching the muscle, Micah could only sigh. It felt so right, even if it burned slightly. It had been so long and he wanted this more than he could possibly say. A second finger joined the first. As soon as those fingers touched his prostate, Micah couldn't help his climax. It overwhelmed him without warning and his body tightened as his come landed on his stomach and chest.

As his senses returned, Micah found a third finger had joined the other two, taking advantage of his relaxed, post-orgasmic state. He was hard again. In fact, he was certain that he barely had time to soften at all, what with the dual stimulation of his channel and his nipples.

"Now, Simon. I want your cock inside me. I want you to make love to me."

Their mouths met as Simon positioned himself between Micah's wide-spread legs. Micah kept his eyes open, staring up into the brown eyes that looked back at him with such love. It made his heart swell, and for a moment, fear filled him. He tried to hide it, but of course, Simon noticed it right away.

"What's wrong? If you're not ready..."

"No! No, I want this, it's just that I love you so much. You'll think I'm crazy, but I'm worried because I can't feed from you anymore and I know how much you liked that. I mean that was the main reason we got together."

"You're an idiot," Simon vowed gently, kissing his lover to show he wasn't angry. "When I first saw you in the club, I wanted you, and it had nothing to do with you feeding from me. Yes, I enjoyed it, but I don't need it. What I do need is you, in my arms, in my life. Je t'aimerai jusqu'à la fin de mes jours."

Slowly, carefully, Micah felt Simon slide into his prepared body. Tears of love filled his eyes, knowing how close he'd come to never feeling this again. Once they were completely joined, he wrapped his arms and legs tight around his lover's body, holding him close. If he could, he would take more. They lay without moving for a moment, lost in their emotions. Micah lifted his hips to urge Simon into moving.

This was heaven. Micah knew there was no chance to get Simon to love him hard and fast this time. His lover was much too worried about his well-being for that, too worried that he would tire and delay his recovery. Still, there was something to be said about the sweet and languorous joining. Every movement screamed of love, the slow back and forth said more than any words possibly could.

Words did flow back and forth between them; sweet whisperings to increase pleasure and stoke the flames of passion. Promises for the future were abundant. They lapsed back into silence, save for moans and gasps, as Micah felt his body start to tremble and tense. He needed something a little more to come. While Simon's hard prick glided over his prostate with each thrust, Micah squirmed to adjust his position, so he could receive more direct contact.

"Yes! Like that, oh Simon! Soon, so close."

"Come for me, mon ange, show me how beautiful you are when you come for me. I love you, Micah, je t'aime."

The sticky, wet heat of his release covered Micah's stomach, more abundant than he would have thought so soon after his previous orgasm. His body tightened around Simon and he moaned when he felt the hardness inside him swell and fill him. It was the most wonderful experience of his life, and he'd never had a reason to complain since he had and Simon came to their understanding. This had been sweet and tender and once again, he felt tears fill his eyes.

"I never want to be away from you again, Simon. I should have told you this a long time ago, but it's more than love between us. From the first time I tasted you, I knew you were special. When I fed from you, it was bigger than anything I'd ever known. You tasted of home. My home."

"I felt it, too. It was confusing for me, since I couldn't allow myself to acknowledge my feelings for another man. I'm so happy that you gave me another chance, Micah. You're my everything. In case you didn't hear me earlier, I'll repeat what I said. I love you, beautiful, until the end of my days." Simon claimed a kiss, tasting his home in the soft mouth too. "Let's go get cleaned up, and then you have to scan, it's been a week. Our families will be waiting for us for supper. The last thing I want is one of our mothers coming in here when you're supposed to be resting. I'd never hear the end of it."

Micah laughed and allowed his lover to help him to the bathroom to clean up and get dressed. There was no time for a shower, but Simon was very thorough with the warm cloth. It made him wish they could go right back to bed and start their lovemaking all over again.

Unfortunately, Pen knocked on the door and laughingly told them they had five minutes until the food was on the table. His cousin obviously knew what they were up to and came to prevent any comments from overprotective mothers.




A Taste of Home



The club wasn't registered with the city, so it was operating illegally, but more than that, it was designed to provide a place for nightwalkers to attack daywalkers. When the promoters invited daywalkers to attend, they announced it as a safe and open place for nightwalkers who wanted to be bound. Nightwalkers chose the daywalkers they preferred to feed from, took them to a private place to feed, but the daywalkers didn't emerge afterwards.

In addition, humans were also encouraged to attend, to provide nightwalkers a chance to feed without danger. Since these included both bound and unbound nightwalkers, the full humans were in danger as well. As a result, both the NCB and FDPA were involved in the investigation and would share jurisdiction.

"Oh my God," whispered Simon, as he caught sight of someone approaching the entrance to the club. He had to be mistaken. It was dark and he was wrong with his identification. "It can't be."

He lifted his camera and zoomed in on the face. Delicate features, white blond hair tied back in a tail and shorter than the other people around him. Simon swallowed and looked at Carlie before pointing out whom he'd noticed.

"No. I don't believe it. There's no way Pen would be out here, especially not without Ryan when Ryan has the night off. There has to be another explanation." Carlie kept staring, wide-eyed, trying to think of what that explanation could be. "Maybe...maybe Ryan wanted to have a look inside and Pen volunteered?"

"Ryan wouldn't let Pen do something like that. It's ridiculous. Of course, I would think Pen being here at all is ridiculous. You'd better give Ryan a call and see if he knows what's going on."

There was no answer to the phone call. Carlie left a terse message ordering Ryan or Pen to give her a call back immediately. Simon kept watching until Pen was almost inside before coming to a decision. Hardly pausing to tell Carlie what he was up to, he slipped out of the car and hurried towards the entrance to the club. The doorman waved Pen, or whoever he was, right in before Simon was halfway there. Almost as an afterthought, he took off his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt.

He thought he would need to argue, cajole and eventually bribe the man standing guard at the door to let him in. Instead, the man noticed his eyes locked onto the small blond and grinned as he waved him though, after taking the ten-dollar cover charge.

The music blared and pulsed once he entered the second set of doors that stood at the bottom of a staircase. His quarry had already gone in and Simon worried that he wouldn't be able to find him easily. Flashing lights made identifying people that much harder, but he stood off to the side for a moment, taking everything in. Bodies danced all around him, gyrating to the music, rubbing up against the others around them, everyone soaked in sweat and having a great time.

It took only a few moments before his eyes found his target. His groin tightened as he watched the small man dance. He'd never had this reaction to Pen before, no matter how much he stared. The slender form shook and twisted to the beat, hips thrusting as they might during a good, hard fuck.

The clothes were nothing like Simon imagined Pen ever wore. How could he have missed that outside? A white, or very light-colored, t-shirt barely covered the torso. It was cut off just below the nipples and rode up with every movement. A pair of leather shorts hung low on slim hips, although they were a little longer in the leg than others he could see, keeping everything properly hidden. A pair of chunky, platform boots, rose to just below the knee. They added height but were not so high as to look awkward.

As Simon approached, unable to resist, the blond caught sight of him and stopped his dancing for a few moments. Their eyes met and held. Simon couldn't have looked away even if he'd wanted to. He came to a stop, eyes still staring, barely remembering why he'd come in the first place. With a tiny hop, he found his arms full of sexy young man, who leaned forward to talk directly into his ear.

"My name is Micah and I think you're sexy as hell. I'm a bound nightwalker, you can scan me if you want, so if you'd like to accompany me somewhere private there's no danger to you."

Wide blue eyes were guileless as they stared into Simon's brown eyes. There wasn't the faintest flicker of recognition in their depths. Hard on the heels of that thought came another: Pen didn't have blue eyes. Pen's eyes were green. Whoever this man was -- Micah he thought to himself -- he wasn't Pen. Even if the two looked enough alike to be twins, they weren't the same.

The words Micah spoke penetrated his thoughts then. He wanted Simon to go with him somewhere private. In spite of his being here to find out about the disappearance of daywalkers, possibly their deaths, Simon wanted to accept the extended offer. As much as he wanted to deny any attraction for men, he wanted Micah as he'd never wanted anyone else. Thoughts of illegal activities and of Carlie waiting outside for him barely registered. Instead, he found himself rationalizing excuses. By going somewhere private, he might get a glimpse to help with the investigation.

"Let's go." Another surge in his groin accompanied the happy smile his agreement brought about. "Do you live around here?"

"No, just got into town yesterday. Someone mentioned this place and I decided to come to dance. I love dancing. Are you willing to let me feed, or do you just want a straight fuck? I don't mind either way, although I'd sure like to taste you. I meant what I said before, there's no danger to you, since I'm bound. The danger is all on my side. If you decide to let me feed and then change your mind, I'm toast."

"I'll need to think about that. I've never let a nightwalker feed from me before, and I'm not sure if I'm up for that."

"Really?" Confusion marred the perfect features. "If you've never been a feeder, what are you doing in this place? I thought it was a club for nightwalkers to find willing feeders."

"I, um, actually, I caught sight of you outside and couldn't resist following you in." Simon felt his face heat up at the admission. Never before had he felt like this towards anyone, let alone a man. He'd never felt like this about Pen, either. Something about Micah just drew him on.

A small hand took hold of his larger one and tugged him through the throng of dancers, leading towards a door along the back wall. Once through, Simon saw they were in a wide corridor with doors lining either side. It was like a hotel or motel hallway. A few doors were open, but Micah seemed to be leading them to one of the furthest ones. The glimpse inside showed him the rooms were small, with a bed, a sink, a chair and a lamp as the only furnishings. The rooms were not meant to be enjoyed at length, only for the time it took the occupants to find their mutual satisfaction, whatever it might be.

"It really isn't like me to do something like this," Micah explained. "Proposition a man I've met in a club, I mean. Much like for you, I saw you and couldn't resist. Now I'm glad that I listened to the nightwalker chick who told me where the best and most private rooms are located."

Simon couldn't help his eyes from staring at the sweet butt in front of him. It swayed more than a man's did, but not as much as a woman's might. In this light, brighter than in the club, he could see that Micah had more muscle than Pen did, even though he was lean. Probably more of a swimmer than a gym freak.

His nerves ramped up once they were inside one of the last rooms around a corner. Now he could tell that these walls were temporary. They could be put up and taken down fairly quickly, leaving the interior of the warehouse an open space if anyone wanted to storm in while the club moved elsewhere. Quite ingenious, actually.

Any further analysis was impossible when Micah slipped a soft hand behind Simon's neck and pulled him down into a hot kiss. There was no request for entry; Micah simply shoved his tongue inside, dominating Simon for the few moments that he was overwhelmed. Soon, very soon, Simon pushed the tongue out of his mouth and chased it into its home. Micah tasted of something sweet, something Simon couldn't quite place.

A memory from long ago, when he was about fifteen, hit him. A memory of two boys hiding in the garden shed of the woman they were both working for. It was a memory Simon had all but convinced himself was nothing more than a dream. His conscious mind refused to believe it was real, because, of course, he had no attraction to boys and men. Now he almost welcomed that dream of a memory. It helped him know what to do so he didn't fumble and embarrass himself with what he wanted, no needed, to do with Micah.

Before things went any further, Micah led Simon to a small, handheld comp affixed to the wall near the door. He pressed his fingers to the pad and waited for the beep. On the screen, the words 'Nightwalker -- bound' showed up, proving the beautiful man's words. Not that Simon had doubted for a moment. The next screen showed the various sexually transmitted diseases, all with the word negative next to them. Of course, with Micah being a nightwalker, there was no chance any of them would show as positive.

Simon put his fingers in once the pad was free. If he were positive in any way, it wouldn't be a problem with a nightwalker, but he wanted there to be no doubts between them. It was also good for him to be absolutely certain. Micah snorted when the screen showed that Simon was 'Human' and then that he was negative. At Simon's questioning look, he explained.

"I hate that it says you are human, which seems to mean that I, as a nightwalker, am not. I am just as human, only different."

"But you're more than human, aren't you? I agree it might be better to show me as mortal, although I never really thought about it before."

Simon sucked in his breath as Micah began to undo his belt. Once his waistband was loosened enough, those small hands slipped inside and showed just how talented they were. It was hard to concentrate on the words the blond beauty spoke while manipulating his dick so expertly.

"That isn't accurate either. Most nightwalkers won't admit to it, but we are not immortal. We have a long life span, usually three hundred years or so, but we do eventually grow old and die. I suppose it's possible that some nightwalkers aren't even aware that we are not immortal."

Simon was amazed at the information. He hadn't ever considered that nightwalkers weren't immortal. Everything he'd ever heard about them was that they didn't die and lived very long lives. People just assumed, he supposed. The life span of nightwalkers stopped interesting him when his cock received a firm pull. Time enough to think later, right now he had a gorgeous man in front of him who deserved his full attention.

Their mouths mated again, a little sloppy but all erotic heat. Simon let his hands push beneath the tight t-shirt, thumbs rubbing over the hard little nipples he encountered there. One hand remained there, while the other drifted down and pushed into the back of the tight shorts. Micah was bare beneath the leather, eliciting a groan from Simon at the hard, smooth flesh.

Simon was suddenly alone. He opened his eyes and saw that Micah had retreated a few steps. Rather than leaving, however, he was dancing in place as his hands began to remove his clothing. The blue eyes, darkened by passion, half-closed as they regarded him with an expression Simon wasn't used to seeing. Something that was more intense than mere desire.

With each swivel of those slender hips, Simon saw an increasing amount of bare flesh. It made his mouth water with the need to taste it, to draw his tongue along each line of muscle and tendon he could find. Depending on the movement and the way the light struck, he could see the faintest hint of golden hair low on the belly, leading his eye downwards. If the shorts lowered just a little bit more, he would see the cock he wanted. Dear God, all his protestations, both conscious and subconscious about not being attracted to men, turned to lies by the hottest thing on two legs he'd ever laid eyes on.

Simon brought his hands to his own pants and shirt, eager to get them out of the way for what was to come. Micah stopped him with a low, raspy voice, ordering him to keep them on. "It'll be so hot, with me naked and you dressed as you pound into me. Wouldn't you like that? Just fix yourself so your clothes don't get all messy, but keep them on."

That would be hot, Simon groaned. In addition, it would make it that much quicker for him to make his escape afterwards. He could take his pleasure, fasten himself up and be out the door before Carlie got too worried and called in for backup. Or heaven forbid, come in after him.

Tearing his eyes away from the delectable show in front of him for a moment, Simon caught sight of something he hadn't seen while glancing into the other rooms. On the wall beside the door, on the opposite side from the scanner, was a padded shelf. It was at just the right height for someone to sit on and be fucked. God, that would be even better than going to the bed! Shit, it even had handles on either side for Micah to grab.

Once those leather shorts were clear of the hips, exposing the hard cock that Simon thought was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen, Simon picked Micah up and set him on the shelf. He took care of the shorts himself, working one leg over the chunky boot, leaving the material hanging off the other leg. It wouldn't get in the way and the boots made things that much hotter.

He dropped to his knees and started to lick up the inside of one smooth thigh. There was hair there, but it was fine and sparse. It darkened slightly with his saliva and he would have been intrigued if he weren't more distracted by the sounds Micah made. Something tapped him on the shoulder and he glanced over. Micah held a bottle of lube out to him. Simon had no clue where it had come from, but he took it and held it tight.

He managed to open the bottle and squeeze out a good amount of lube onto his fingers. He held the now dripping prick in one hand, as his tongue finally tasted the deliciously hot skin covering the first -- well, second if he was brutally honest with himself -- cock he had in front of him. The other hand reached further down and began rubbing against the pucker he intended to breach before too much more time had passed.

"Oh yes," Micah moaned, wiggling a little, as the tip of one finger pressed inside. "Fuck that feels good."

"You're so tight and you feel like silk inside. Are you ready for another one, Micah? Ready for me to really start stretching you and getting you ready for me?"

His lips moved against the hard column, causing it to twitch and jerk. It was the most amazing feeling he could ever remember. Making love to a woman, not even the first time, had never made him want so much. Again, the memory of that afternoon in the garden shed tried to make itself known, but he was too far gone with lust and desire to really pay attention to it.

As he pressed a third finger into the tight body, twisting and scissoring them instinctively, Simon dropped his mouth over Micah's cock, going until it was as far as it could go. He didn't know if it was his inexperience that only allowed a little more than half in his mouth, or if Micah was just that big. Even though he'd licked and stroked it, had it right in front of his eyes, he hadn't examined it too closely. He wasn't quite ready for that just yet.

"Mmm, please, God please, I'm ready. I'm ready for you now. Shove that big, fat cock of yours into my ass and fuck me hard and fast."

Simon automatically heeded the demand of the gorgeous young man. He couldn't do otherwise, when it was what he wanted as well. As he covered his aching cock with lube, he took in the sight. Porcelain-white skin stretched over delicious muscles, chest panting and covered with sweat. Beautiful legs were splayed out, the heel of one boot up on the shelf and the other hanging down. Damn, those black boots Micah wore amped Simon's temperature up as much as the wanton display.

He moved forward to stand between Micah's thighs and the leg not on the shelf wrapped around his hips. Although it was his intention to push into the accepting body slowly and carefully, the choice was taken away. Micah dragged him forward with one booted heel, making him slam all the way in hard and fast, just as Micah said he wanted.

Standing still for a moment, he suddenly knew what he wanted. While he tried to determine if he was sure of himself, Simon began to thrust, not fast and hard, but slow, resisting the press of the leg. Micah's eyes drifted closed, head tossing back and forth as the small body did its best to meet his thrusts and fought to increase their cadence.

"Feed from me," he panted. "Oh Christ you feel so good, but I want you to feed as well."

"Are you...Shit!...Are you sure?" Micah's hand drifted down and gave two hard fast pulls to his cock. He screamed his orgasm, back arching and head lolling back at the intensity. Simon managed to hold on to the edge by sheer force of will, stopping to watch the erotic display. "I...I d-don't want you to feel obligated."

"I want it." Simon didn't know where he found the strength to speak in such a calm manner. He felt like howling, his entire body trembling with the need to come and come hard.

Two small hands came up and cradled his cheeks. The smell of sex filled his nose, and he bit back a groan against the desire to unload in the hot vice that surrounded his cock. Not yet, not yet, wait just a little longer, he pleaded. He didn't know who he pleaded with, himself or some other entity, but whoever it was seemed to listen and let him keep hold to the edge of the precipice.

Micah licked up the side of his neck. It took a moment to realize that he was leaning forward, pulled down to the younger man. Simon braced himself for the bite he knew would come soon. He had no idea if it would hurt or not and he didn't even care.

The instant his flesh felt the bite, Simon knew that this was the most amazing thing he would ever experience. He couldn't describe the sound that emerged from his mouth, something beyond a scream, but not from pain. In some part of his brain, Simon knew he was coming, and that Micah was coming again as well, but all he really felt was the sweet pull as Micah fed from him. Micah held him tight, preventing him from thrashing too much. Each drink into the nightwalker's mouth seemed to draw right from his toes.

"Fucking Hell that was the most amazing..." Simon didn't know how long after the feeding it was before he found his voice. He needed to sit before his legs gave out, but didn't have the energy to do more than lean over the small body, propped up on his elbows.

"Holy shit," Micah whispered. Still darkened by passion, Simon could see that those blue eyes were wide with wonder. "I've never...you taste like nothing else in the world. What...what's your name?"

They both laughed at the absurdity of the question. "S-Simon. My name is Simon. Damn, I don't want to move, but I have to get back outside. My partner is waiting in the car." As the words left the mouth, he realized what they sounded like even before catching sight of the raised eyebrow. "My work partner, I mean. She's sitting out there in the car, probably getting worried."

The two men cleaned themselves up as much as possible. Simon was surprised to find that he hadn't completely ruined his clothes. At some point during their encounter, the buttons of his shirt were undone, so none of Micah's cum stained it when they pressed together. Their eyes kept searching each other out, holding for long moments as they dressed.




A Taste of Home



Just as Simon was about to take out his handheld and print out his contact information, a loud siren blared from the hallway outside the room. The lights flashed and a voice told them the NCB and FDPA were nearing for a raid and everyone had to be out. Micah opened the door to look out and see what was happening, and was swept up by the people running by. They called each other's names, not wanting to separate without some indication of whether or not they could meet again. It was hopeless.

Simon sighed and figured it was for the best. He couldn't develop a relationship with a man, not with his family obligations, and it wouldn't be fair to indulge in something as sordid as simple fucking and feeding with Micah. The beautiful young nightwalker deserved much better.

Taking his time, Simon waited for the agents to reach him, although he did move out of the room to wait. Carlie shouted in relief when she caught sight of him. She had called in for backup when he didn't immediately return and she hit his arm, demanding to know what had happened. He promised to fill her in later and prayed that whatever story he came up with would be believable.

============

I hope you enjoy this new glimpse into the world of nightwalkers and daywalkers. A second chapter should follow within a few days. Please don't forget to vote, and I welcome all comments, whether public or private. ~ Danae 



A Taste of Honey



It took three hours of circuitous driving through the North Carolina woods before my husband, Don, would admit that we were lost. He was trying to take a short cut described to him by his moron brother Craig. At that moment I hated Craig. I hated being lost even more. Don's solution to everything was to double back, turn-around, and ask no directions which invariably led us in circles and three feet from nowhere.

Eventually I told Don to let me take over the wheel. My plan was to find somebody, anybody to help get us out of the mountains by nightfall. After about ten miles Don fell asleep. His baldhead bobbled loosely against the window in our Ford Explorer. He had driven pretty much the entire trip so I figured he deserved the rest.

It only took forty minutes before we found an old full-service gas station and a cute little old man. He filled our tank without prompting.

"How do I get back on the interstate?" I asked.

He was stunned for a second, looking down at the deep cleavage of my v-neck sweater at my 38DDs like he'd lost a marble in there. I'm a big girl with big tits and a bubble ass and I have a need to dress comfortably on long trip. He finally answered, "You're a long way off ma'am. If you go down Quarry Road and make a left onto Stubblefield you'll see a sign pointing towards county road 78…"

His directions went on and on, his yellow eyes tracing the roundness of the tops of my exposed breasts. I gave him a special thrill by taking the change from the gas and putting it inside my bra in such a way as to show him a nipple.

I didn't remember most of what he said but I did remember the first few turns. Nearing darkness the smooth pavement turned to gravel. Just as I slowed to perform a three-point turn, much like my drooling husband, I noticed a giant of a man in the middle of the road seated in an aluminum folding chair. He wore muddy denim overalls without a T-shirt and looked to be about 35, maybe 40 at most. His long red hair and beard shone brightly in the headlights. The sight startled me.

"Don, honey, wake up. There's someone in the road."

"What?" asked Don groggily.

"Look, there's a man in the middle of the road. What should we do?"

"Do we know where we are?" he asked. I was afraid to tell him that my effort hadn't been any better than his.

"Not exactly, but…"

"Well why don't you ask the gentleman there. This isn't Chicago. People are more friendly in the South."

"Why don't you ask? You're the man," I said. Don looked at me with slow reflexes, he couldn't think of a better reason to make me do it.

"Oh all right, but if he plays a banjo and asks me for a date you have to promise not to leave me here."

"Deal," I said.

As Don approached, the man stood. He was more enormous in height and girth than I had guessed. Don's tall, six-foot, but the man in the road couldn't have been less than seven feet tall and 350 pounds. I suddenly felt sorry for making Don go. The two of them talked for a moment. The giant shaking his head mostly. Don came back to the Explorer's driver side window.

"Honey, he says that this is a toll road. I told him that we were lost and he said he didn't care, that this was his road and well…we need to pay up for traveling on it," said Don.

I didn't believe him at first but Don doesn't kid. The man in the road began to approach the truck. A strange sense of fear overwhelmed me. He came right up behind Don and peered through the open window at me. He had a grimace that turned into a sudden smile.

"Howdy, you sure are pretty," he said. "I once had a dog with fur all yellow and shiny like your hair." His breath smelled of corn liquor. He had at least three extra teeth. I was too scared to be sick.

"Hi, I'm Jamie," I said. I tried to diffuse the situation by making it personal.

"My name is Stopper and I am pleased to make your acquaintance," he said politely. His voice was deep, otherworldly, like a slow motion roar.

My husband watched Stopper. He knew that this behemoth could take whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. "How much do you need for your…toll?" he asked with trepidation.

Stopper backed away to study the Explorer. I thought for a moment he might be studying the weight and the effect it would have on his gravel road. "Stopper would like a dance with the pretty lady," he said.

I looked at Don in disbelief. He was whiter than a ghost and on the verge of falling down.

I thought quickly, "Well, Stopper, we don't have any music and I don't think it would be all that safe to dance in the road." 

"No problem, little lady, my cabin's just up the road a piece and I've got all the latest: George Jones, Patsy Cline, Hank Williams...we'll have a sure good time." Without warning he opened the rear door behind me and jumped in, smashing his oversized head against headliner. The car groaned under the new weight to the left. My husband stood next to my window. He looked defenseless and defeated, his truck hijacked with not a damn thing for him to do about it. I motioned with big eyes for him to get in.


Stoppers' cabin really wasn't a cabin so much as a limestone cave with electricity. If I hadn't been terrified, I would have remarked on his innovative use of natural materials and "found" objects. However, all I could think of at that moment was rape and murder with no on to hear my screams.

Stopper offered us a sip from his brown glass jug with force. I politely declined but Don took the jug in hand and with Don holding the base tilted it back. Don drank down the concoction with a meaty gulp and appeared immediately intoxicated.

"What was that?" Don asked.

"Daddy's recipe," Stopper said. 

"Well you should thank your daddy, that's some good shit," Don was trying to be down home for the benefit of Stopper. Stopper didn't notice.

"You can thank him when he gets home. Now let's dance!" said Stopper. In the corner, next to the refrigerator there was a Mickey Mouse Big Adventure stereo. He delicately removed an LP from its clean white protective sleeve and placed it on the turntable. The clickety camel walk of bass in Patsy Clines' "After Midnight" began. I recognized it from a "Behind the Music" episode on VH-1.

Quickly Stopper grabbed me up in his pale burly arms; my feet didn't touch the floor. You'd suspect a man of his size to be clumsy but his footwork was incredibly light. He held me close and I felt the rhythmic crush of my breasts against his broad chest. The closer he came the safer I felt. Just because a man is big enough to turn over a Greyhound bus doesn't mean he can't be tender, right? He wasn't really all that bad looking either, just unkempt, like one of my Deadhead boyfriends in college. No sooner had I convinced myself of his status of gentle giant than I felt a great big hand edging down the back of my jeans, settling on the start of the crack of my ass cheeks.

Now, I am not a prude. Don and I have even had sex with another couple in the room. But I knew where this was headed and I wasn't sure if I wanted to find out what lurked beneath the bulge of denim in front of his pants. I looked to Don for reassurance that he could stop this if it went too far. Don had passed out on the feather stuffed bed, jug in hand.

"Do you know what "After Midnight" is about?" asked Stopper.

"No."

"It's about being lonely, being a searcher, looking for someone, y'know what that's like?"

"I can't say as I do, Stopper." I said.

"It's about walking under the stars and searching for love on a lonely highway in the middle of a dark stormy night."

I felt sorry for the big guy. Then I realized he was stroking me up and down the front bib of his overalls. Imagine a bear masturbating on a green sapling. When the song was over "Crazy" began to play. He set me again on my feet and went to change the tune.

"I hate that song," he said. He put on a new record and it began. "Do you know who this is?"

"Y'know Stopper, I really don't know a lot about country music."

"It's Big Jim Ed Brown, it's called 'Pop A Top,' do you like it?"

"Sounds nice," I said. "If you don't mind I'm going to check on Don for a minute." Don in his unconsciousness state had begun to stretch out on the large soft bed. I knew if I didn't wake him soon, we'd never be able to leave. As I knelt I felt Stopper's paw on my shoulder. Turning, I ran face first into the largest cock in the history of mankind. Stopper had unfastened the brass shoulder rivets of his overalls to let it all hang out.

I started to say something but he shut me up by grabbing a fistful hair and thrusting the swollen purple head into my mouth. It didn't really fit. I could only get the tip in between my teeth. I decided fellate him by running my tongue up and down the side like corn on the cob. He made this deep fearful roar in the back of throat. If I didn't satisfy him I knew rape would be the least of my worries. I decided to stand up and take control of the situation.

I also wasn't about to let Stopper lay me down and fuck me, his sheer weight, let alone that caveman cock he sported, would damage me in a way most profound.

So I began by vigorously stroking his thick cock, squeezing with all my strength when I reached the piss slit; a drop of clear pre-cum bubbling up. I ran my finger over the edge and ate the drop. His sperm tasted really sweet like honey, not ammonium salty at all. My mind reeled in trying to come up with an explanation. I pushed him backward and he sat on the edge of the bed. Stopper looked at Don sleeping, then picked him up and set him on the packed dirt floor. 

Don's welfare concerned me but the juices soaking the crotch of my jeans told me that I needed this as much as Stopper did. I tried to undress but Stopper insisted on fondling my tits. I allowed Stopper to pull off my sweater and unhook my bra. He was fascinated with the size of my super-sized brown areola and protruding nipples. He began to suckle me like a starving infant. I backed up and began to peel off my tight jeans when the door flew open behind me. In walked the old attendant from the gas station.

"Stopper, what have I told you about this!" he yelped.

Stopper, still seated, tried to hide behind my 5'8" frame and big ass but it was of little use. "I'm sorry daddy. I just thought you wouldn't mind me taking in trade…" he said.

"Listen, if you're going to fuck this girl then you need to let your old man have a shot at her too. You hear me boy? Now hurry up and finish. Oh never mind, you're too goddamn slow, we can do it at the same time," he said.

With that I finished undressing and began to mount Stopper, my husband dozing a few feet away. I stuck out my asshole to give Stopper's father a target to shoot for as well. Stopper's father slowly prodded my tight anus until he got his fingertip inside without any resistance. I felt him get his finger in a bit deeper and finally, he got it in even deeper than that. However, Stopper got impatient and painfully shoved me down on his pole. It hurt so bad my teeth rattled. Quickly, Stopper's father slipped his skinny dick in from behind, completing the double penetration.

I was so horny as Stopper force fucked me. I could feel hot pussy juice beginning to stream out of my cunt and Stopper's father seemed to know. He reached around me and began to stroke my fat clit above his son's cock. Daddy seemed thrilled to diddle me and I moaned with the first of a series of little shocks that made my asshole clinch down like a vice with his cock inside. The big orgasm followed. A deep satisfying gusher, I was lightheaded and ready to try something else.

My bunghole spasms soon sent Stopper's dad over the edge as well. He came with a whimper inside my ass while pinching my nipples into reddened eraser bumps. He withdrew out of my sore ass with a plop. He slapped my jiggling ass and left the room. Stopper wasn't done however. Devoting all my attention to his cock I gave him a sloppy wet ride, making sucking sounds with the lips of my pussy as it grasped his joint. It seemed I couldn't make him cum no matter how much I bucked or jiggled my big tits in his smiling stupid face.

I had an idea. I wondered if I could tit fuck him into orgasm. I dismounted his cock and lay on the bed. Stopper looked confused like I was taking life itself away. I instructed him and he knelt with either knee to the side of me, his cock looming large in my face. I put his cock between my double Ds like a hot dog in a bun, placing his huge mitts on the nipple to push my funbags together. It took twenty strokes for Stopper to blast me with a horse-sized load of honey flavored ejaculate, soaking my face, tits, neck and ears.

After it was over I felt exhausted, yet refreshed. Don was still in a deep asleep when Stopper gently picked him up and placed him in the backseat of the Explorer. Stopper's dad gave me a map with the route back to the interstate highlighted. I thanked him by flashing my tits and giving him a kiss. He looked adorable as I drove away.

Somewhere around Hickory Don awoke.

"How long have I been asleep?" he asked.

"About four hours, sweetie."

"I had the strangest dream. You and I were lost in the woods and we got stopped by a giant red bear. He wouldn't let us go until he got to make love to you. Isn't that a fucked up trip?" he yawned.

"Yeah baby, it sure is," I replied, still tasting the richness of honey on my lips.

PLEASE GIVE ME YOUR FEEDBACK

GOOD OR BAD



A Taste of Honey



Mary Sue looked around the room, nodded to herself and then looked out of the living room front window... again.

"Okay," she said to herself. "The house is clean and neat and, if I must say so, damn pretty to look at and to be in. This is what it is supposed to be like. No television set, just a simple setting of an eight-foot divan, two stuffed sitting chairs and a magnificent redwood table that was graced by just one book. Three lamps could be used to light the scene, but now the soft sunshine of a November day was all that was needed."

Mary Sue was pleased and she was nervous. The first meeting with an e-mail friend was always a nervous time. Even more so with this one. He was older than her, quite a bit older. In fact, he had mentioned that when she had listed risk as a priority in her life, this was one of those risk moments. She knew what he looked like, had traded messages and photos and even a very nice phone exchange, but face to face, that was another matter. The time of risk was at hand.

Her ad said everything about her needs. Forty-eight years old. Oral sex was her favorite. She enjoyed the sensations that could be raised with a deft hand, active fingers, tender lips and a most wet and hot tongue. His answer was all that she could have looked for. Two lonely people who had the same needs could come together, face the risks together. He had made it easier for her by suggesting a bit of role playing. He had said, "You be the daughter and I will be the Daddy. We can list this under Daughter Shows Daddy the Oral Way of Pleasure."

The sharp ring of the doorbell snapped Mary Sue back to reality. First came the worried look, just for a moment. "Do I look right? Is my hair okay? A brush of hands over her breasts and down the front of her button down white blouse and over the top of her knee-length skirt. Okay. Open the damn door you fool.

Heat rose to her temples as she stood before the door. A grasp of air, a movement of the shoulders back as if standing at attention, the hand going to the door knob and turning, bringing back the heavy door to received her first sight of the real of Thomas Craine. 

Mary Sue extended her hand in greeting, stepped aside to allow Thomas inside the door, let the door shut and started a mind-tingling evaluation of her new visitor.

[My God, he is good looking. He doesn't look like he is 70 years old. A little heavy, but he admitted to that, I like his voice. Soft and mellow, no bravado, no squeaky sounds. Nice hand shake. Can I draw him closer before we stop touching and shaking the hands? How the hell am I supposed to start the conversation?]

"Did you have a good drive into the city?" she asked. That wasn't so hard and pretty vanilla.

"Very good, but to be honest, it seemed like it took forever. I was so anxious to get here."

"Funny isn't it," she observed. "You go on a new adventure, a trip to some unknown place and each mile seems like it is ten miles long."

They had a quiet laugh together and Mary Sue could feel the tension ease off for both of them. They moved into the living room and were about to be seated when Thomas interrupted the scene.

"If it is not to presumptuous," he said with a smile, "Could I first suggest that we have a hug. It will help us ease into this new situation."

"Great idea." she said and she moved into his open arms. There were no kisses, nothing but a warming feeling for both of them. It was not a quick hug, but an extended time holding each other. And silence, letting each of them gather their thoughts. Most importantly, they each could feel the other person

"Call me Tom, if you would."

"Mary does from my side."
They parted but Tom's hand moved slowly down Mary's left arm and the warmth of it hit the right button. She reached back with her right and put it over his fingers and gave it a light touch of approval.

They sat and talked for five minutes and as the conversation progressed Mary could feel that both of them were getting tight again, not really saying anything of concern, just making sounds.

"Lets declare this playtime." she said.

"Thanks," Tom replied with a soft tone. "We were starting to torture each other, weren't we?"

Tom stood up, brought Mary to her feet and gently pulled her back into his arms for another hug and that first gentle, exploratory kiss. She relaxed at the moment his arms went around her and she looked up into his eyes.

"You know," she said with a lilt in her voice, "It is so hard to be very oral when we are sitting five feet apart."

Tom laughed, brought his lips back to hers and allowed his tongue to reach out to her lips. Mary offered no resistance and this kiss could have lasted for hours. The feelings were coming forth from both of them and with it the hands started to move. Tom let his hands move over Mary's back, very gentle, very slow movements, very sensuous. 

He could feel her move closer to him and the feel of her prominent breasts was not just pleasing, but damned erotic and he responded they way he should. The feeling of hardness pleased them both.

The touch of her breasts against his chest was a physical awakening. This lady is much nicer than I expected, he thought. Everything I could wish for. She is not a size 6 by any means, but I have always liked a little meat on the bone. Great looking face with an infectious smile, the clothes fit her well and her legs are fantastic.

"Undress me," Mary ordered with bravado, getting Tom back in the present.

Tom did not miss the beat, moving just inches from her and his hands raced to the top button on the white blouse. Then number two...and three...and four. Mary's breasts waited no longer in the process as they burst into the open, shoving the silken white cover to the sides and revealing a lacy white bra. Tom's eyes riveted on the beauty they represented, excited by the cleavage. His hands went to the side to undue the skirt and it fell without any problem to Mary's heels before she could start stepping out of them. There was no slip and Tom could not resist the next move, stepping five feet away.

"Mary," he drawled in almost southern terms. "I have this thing about beautiful women in bra and panties. I enjoy it even more than a totally nude body and that ain't bad. Just like your looks right now. You present a most beautiful sight for these eyes."

"I can see that," she replied, taking the risky route for answers. "Your cock is giving your feelings away. Now, let me take care of making it free to express itself."

She stepped forward, grabbed the belt and worked it free, then the top button and finally the zipper, taking it down slowly so that it did not damage the goods inside. Damned if she wanted that tool to be scratched or nipped.

Tom stepped out of his shoes and the slacks, pulled his socks off, threw his shirt aside and standing completely nude in front of Mary he had one question: "Okay, sweet looking lady. Do we start in bed, on the kitchen table, on the carpet in front of the fireplace or just outside the front door?"

Mary picked up on the light heartedness. 

"I can't do it just outside the door. I still have clothes on and I can't let the neighbors think you are sexier looking than I am. Lets start on the vanilla side. Playtime in the bedroom for the first time. Here, let me lead you inside."

She put her right hand on the rigid cock and walked toward the bedroom door.

Tom's laughter became loud but he did not resist when the "tow" hand started pulling him along. He looked back. Nice house, he thought, but we made it look like a teenagers room, clothes all over the floor. He smiled at the sight and at the tug of on his cock from Mary.

"I am a complete oralist," she announced. "It is time for your first lesson on what is really great about being an oralist."

Tom looked her straight in the face, "Okay, Oral Sue, prove it."

The joking was over.

Tom laid on his stomach and Mary kneeled on the sheets next to him, leaned forward. Her fingers reached the nape of his neck. and each hand went its way across his shoulders. Mary's lips started at the same spot and Tom flinched at the warmth of her mouth. His moan was Mary's okay that nothing was wrong. It was the touch of her hands and the brushing of her nipples on his back that roused him.

Up, down and all over the back ran her hands, lips and wet tongue and as each centimeter was covered Tom was anxious for the first touches on his ass and thighs. What was going to happen. Now we will see just how oral she is.

Mary stopped at the base of Tom's back for just five seconds of no activity as she quickly moved her position, now looking down at his feet. First came the lips on the top of his left cheek and it felt oh, so good. No hands, just lips and then that wicked little tongue. Tom could feel it moving around his ass. He loved the wetness of it and the warmth. Damn, he thought, its like that tongue has fingers of its own. Touching, probing. His ass raised as if reaching for more tongue and Mary noticed. She flicked the tongue in quick five second spurts and his hips came looking for more. It was perfect for it gave her room to move one hand under him and grab that rigid cock and let her hand move slowly up and down as her lips continued to kiss the satin smooth cheeks. Her eyes started looking down at the thighs and she wanted inside where the smoothest part of the man's body skin resides. Her lips followed her eyes and the free hand moved Tom's legs apart. 

Mary breasts touched Tom's hips as she moved her lips to the inner portion of his thighs, moving in no particular pattern from left to right. Her heart was thumping as she had moved within inches of that particular part of his anatomy that she held in her other hand. She wanted that so much, oh, so much, but her trip there was still in the future. Complete the task at hand. 

Mary's next move was unusual and novel. She mounted Tom's back with her entire body and continued to work her way down the legs, hands first, lips second and tongue third. Her breasts pounded into Tom's ass and her legs moved around his head.

Tom was surprised. Pleasantly surprised. What a novel move and he loved it. To feel her skin was so nice, even though she had yet to lose the bra and panties. They were so thin it made little difference. It just felt great and his cock continued to register the pleasure. "Thank God for Viagra," he thought.

Mary's first trip over the body was complete, backside that is. She rolled off and Tom moved to his side. Perfect position for 69ing. 

"Not yet," came her cry. "Just move farther down on the bed so that are heads are together and we can try an upside down kiss and then we will move forward. Can you wait for my nipples?" 

"Do I have to rip the panties and bra off of you?" he asked with a grin. "I know. I said how much I love to look at you dressed like that. But I desire all skin now."

"Okay, Daddy-O. You do the bra and I will do the panties."

It felt great at the start, kissing at a completely new angle, but that strangeness lasted only a few seconds. The tongues found their goals and a new excitement came about. They inched forward as their lips went over the respective chins and down on the throat.

Tom's eyes never left her breasts as he kissed her throat from ear to ear. "Slow down old man," he told himself. "A part of the thrill is in getting there."

The tempting rise of the breasts always had thrilled Tom and these beauties were having a real effect on him...that and Mary's gentle tongue flicking over his own nipples.

What a thrill that always was for him. He had for years wondered if a woman/s sensations to the touch of hands and lips on her tits was the same as the deep thrill he was feeling. It went directly to his cock. The touch of her tongue was so light on the nipple, like a sea breeze going over a sunburned body. Almost too much of a tickle to be endured. He could feel her hands gently cup his breast and raise the nipple for more attentive swipes of her tongue. That was one benefit from being on the heavy side. More boobs for the lady to play with.

Mary's teeth gave the nipple a little bite and Tom was snapped back to reality. 

"Don't forget, Daddy." she said. "My nipples need attention too. What was on your mind just then?"

"Its your fault, little daughter. You put my mind in my cock with that wild and woolly tongue. My how you make it move. It was too wonderful for that moment."

"Shoot, it just goes where it wants to go," came the quick retort. "Long ago I quit trying to tame it and I've never been happier. That is part of your risk. Seeing how much of the little demon you can take before you can't hold off anymore. You just wait, for I'm unleashing it on your stomach now and I am heading south and then you will see what oral is all about."

Tom went back to the swollen nipples. No use getting in a hurry on this. These are too precious to kiss and move away. He nuzzled between to the two globes of pleasure, licking the sweat from the valley of cleavage. No real taste like what he was about to savor.

The satiny touch of those breasts fascinated Tom. His fingers moved over the satin skin and he looked down at this mature but, at least to him, young woman. "She has so many things going for her," he told himself. "The beauty is there and I guess it is greater in value now than it was when she turned 21. But the heart is so great. God, I can feel the thumping when I lean over to suck the nipples. She was taking a big risk in inviting me to be with her, to kiss her, to suck on these nipples and what will come when I do taste that scrumptious well of honey, something I treasure the most and she has risked to allow me the favor of the flavor."

Mary's breath reached the shiny head of Tom's cock and, again, she had brought him back to the present. She had moved down and the nipples were away from his face and when the first touch of air hit his erection he looked forward to his own prize. Not moving, Tom used his hands to urge Mary farther down her path of thrills and his tongue marked the progress over her lower stomach

He could smell a pleasant fragrance. "How nice of her," he thought. "I love that fragrance and it is so inviting.

Mr. Craine could wait no longer.

His tongue reached the upper portion of her vagina, nearing the clitoris. His warm tongue searched and found and his lips took over, capturing the tiny bud and guiding it into the mouth where the tongue could float back and forth over its top and his mouth could play homage to it with gentle sucking and touching sequences.

Mary raised her head as the first moans of pleasure escaped her mouth. Her hands touched his cock for the first time, but what was going on at the other end made her pause and pleasure in those motions.

"So gentle. Thanks you Daddy," she surmised. "I like it when he is not in such a hurry. The pleasure is too perfect to be wasted on the need to go further."

Her legs opened slightly and the rose bud clit popped up as the tongue continued to titillate and send tremors through her body. Without thought, her ass pushed forward, wanting Tom not miss any part of the pussy. She could feel his tongue moving the outer layers back and forth and just as she got impatient herself, a flick of the tongue moved inside her, just briefly, but the effect sent chills of pleasure down her spine.

"Oh, God," she cried. "Don't stop. Don't hurry. Don't miss any part of me."

Tom has to pause to smile on that last command. "She has not seen anything yet. Wait until we go with the ice."

He moved back to his worship of her skin, the clitoris, the wet insides of her uterus. Her hips started moving in sequence with his actions and he pressed his hands on her ass to help guide that movement.

The rhythm increased, like the sensations of a musical piece. Slow and subdued at the beginning, but as the heart of the arrangement was reached the tempo of action increased. Tom could feel it in her hip movement. His tongue reacted with quick strikes inside and then the mouth resumed its sucking motions of the clit. He grabbed both cheeks of her ass and pulled her closer to his tongue. Faster, deeper sucking action, move the hips farther apart. Then first kisses to the inner thighs and back to the hooded vagina. 

"Don't stop. Don't hurry it. Don't miss anything."

Mary's first explosion was severe. Her hips were out of control, wishing only that Tom's tongue would become longer and deeper into her. Her thighs encased Tom's head so it couldn't leave if it wanted to. 

He could feel the fluids as they moved within her and he started lapping the honey. Oh, that taste of honey. "Its funny," he thought. "It really isn't a sweet flavor at all, but it becomes that in the mind. Its not so fluid as water. There is that wonderful substance and there is that woman giving up in joy.

"Now you really feel like my daughter," He said as the tempo slowed down. "Know this is really the way to bond."

Mary had no reply. She had not let go of the cock, but right now the breath was coming in gasps of pleasure and the joy of sucking that rod could come later. She was spent for the moment, wondering if she had ever had a more gigantic burst in her life. 

Tom moved away and rolled on his back. "Drop the baton, please," he joked. I am not finished with you yet. I have a special treatment for that burning fire in your pussy. Just stay put, just rest a bit and I will be right back.

He wandered out of the bedroom and groped a bit as the sun was setting and no lights had been lit at his arrival. He found the kitchen, pulled a small coffee cup from the shelve, reached into the freezer department of the frig and gathered four cubes in the cup. He smiled of pleasure ahead as he returned to the bedroom.

"Close your eyes," he commanded. "No peeking. That's it. Keep playing with yourself. Keep the temperature up." 

Tom eased one cube out of the bowl and held it away from Mary's body as he moved his hands to her pussy, rubbing gently over the clit and covered sheets of the vagina and then immediately adding his lips and tongue to the action. Oh, yea, she is still hot, she is still wanting more.

"Keep you eyes shut. Dream a dream of sensual pleasure and try and measure it within you. It is so damned sweet."

He put the melting cube between his teeth and gently introduced it to her pussy. 

Mary's hips jumped at the first bite of the cold ice and her eyes popped open. "What the hell?"

"Shut those eyes and let your imagination give you the sensations and the thrill."

He moved the layers of skin back gently and pushed the cube inside for the first time, then moved it out in quick fashion. Then back in and out and in and out.

Mary's hips caught the motion and synchronized its movements with it. 

"Damn, it actually feels good. I like it." she said 

"Quiet, little one." he answered. "Take in the moment. Its a special feeling, one you have never felt before. Keep the eyes shut and you can get more out of the feeling, a strange pleasure."

His lips took on a new cube and returned to its fucking motion. In three trips into her and out, her hip motion was back in sync. Actually leading the way, directing Tom's movements and wanting to feel that strange sensation of dripping water within her. 

The hips started increasing the tempo and as the last of the second cube was melted away by the inside heat, Tom's tongue took over, pushing inside and then he moved his lips around the entry to the orifice and sucked as if trying to draw something out from deep within her.

"Don't stop. More. More. Damn it, Daddy get me off."

Mary didn't wait for Daddy. She came in rapids bursts, not as great as the first one, but oh, so satisfying. And, when the hips stopped churning Tom backed off and moved away, breathing hard on his own.




A Taste of Honey



"What a wonderful time," she said. "But, I feel bad about one thing."

"You wanted to come one more time?" 

"That will come. What makes me sad is that I didn't finish my own tour and get my own desires of oral lust off my mind."

"No sweat, little peach. The old man doesn't come back as quickly as the young chick. There is so much joy just in the waiting and the anticipation of the thrills you have in store. I already know of the talent that tongue of yours possesses."

They laid back for the first time, still breathing laboriously. Tom's right hand rested on Mary's left leg, the fingers tapping out a tune of its own, as if he were playing a piano. Mary went right back to the still hardened cock.

"Please, Daddy," she groaned. "Your daughter wants her own taste of the honey."

"Lets cool off a bit," he argued. "When that thing starts to go down on me then it will be time for you to work your magic with that talented tongue. I want you to have all of your fun, making it hard again, stroking it, and then tasting that wonderful honey we both crave from the other. This is such a sensuous and wonderful time. Lets not hurry it, my daughter."

"Okay."

Mary put her head back on the pillow and a smile came over her face. She could feel that cock starting to come off its high horse and she had risked so much and found so much more in the old man. Damn, the experience he has had gave her new thrills she had never met before. Sure, he had about 20 years of aging on her, but those were not wasted years. They were years of experience. 

She turned on her side, stretched her neck a bit and kissed his cheek. Her hand reunited with the cock and she gently stroked. She had seen bigger weapons of sex, but damn, this was now hers. It was hers to command right now. It had a purpose. It had the taste of honey.

Tom let his head go back into the pillow as he felt the warmth of her mouth cover his cock, bringing it to a quick rigidity.

"Don't stop. Don't hurry it. Don't miss anything."

Mary turned her head slightly and released her mouth. 

"Shut up. You're using my line.... honey."



A Taste of Honey



Nervously, I looked in the hotel room mirror and smiled as I applied the finishing touches to my makeup. I couldn’t believe Dan and I were meeting for a second time – this time for our “48 hours of sexual bliss” as we had teasingly called it. Though separated by miles, we had become quite good friends, sharing and discussing many fantasies. Our first meeting had been so wonderfully, sexually charged. I could only hope that this second meeting would be as wonderful, if not better.

I checked myself out once again in the full-length mirror, turning around to look at my butt. I had purchased a new dress for the occasion: a simple, tailored, yet body-hugging white dress with black flowers. To add to the tease, I purposely choose a short dress so that when seated, he could get a peek at my lacy thigh-high stockings and garter straps. I hoped Dan liked it. 

The anticipation was killing me. I had told Dan to meet me in the hotel bar at 7:00 p.m. and I was beginning to regret my decision. However, I knew if he came directly to my hotel suite I would never get to tease him with my new dress, plus, I had never been to Chicago and was looking forward to this Chicago native showing me some of the nightlife he had so vividly described.

I anxiously looked at my watch again and slipped my key card into my purse. “Time to go,” I said out loud to myself.

I entered the bar and quickly scanned the room for my handsome, dark-haired friend. Being a Wednesday evening, the bar was relatively empty and not seeing him I hopped up on a barstool to wait.

“Can I get you something to drink?” the bartender politely asked. 

Reading his name tag, “Yeah, sure, Fred,” I replied, “I’d like a Long Island Ice Tea, please. Oh, and I’m meeting a friend soon. Could you bring a Citron and soda, too?”

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Fred asked.

“How did you ever guess that?” I laughingly replied. “Yeah, my accent is really southern, ain’t it?” 

As Fred went to prepare the drinks, I fidgeted in my chair, turning my head to glance behind me at the door. Still not seeing Dan, I returned my attention back to Fred.

“Thanks, Fred,” I said smiling at him as he placed the drinks on the bar in front of me. 

Taking a sip of my Long Island Ice Tea, I heard the familiar deep voice of my friend.

“Camille?” Dan called out.

“Oh, Dan!” I said getting up from my seat. “I’m so glad to see you.”

I moved close to him and put my arms around his neck. I could feel his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me closer as our lips touched in greeting. My heart fluttered with excitement and a bit of nervousness as well.

We sat down at the bar. “Hope it’s ok,” I said pushing the glass toward Dan, “But I went ahead and ordered you a drink. Citron and soda, right?”

“Hey, you remembered.”

“Always.” 

We carried on our conversation, catching up on this and that. My glass was now empty and I motioned for Fred to bring me another drink. I tried to keep up my end of the conversation, but my nervousness and his gorgeous green eyes staring at me often left me lost for words. If he only knew how badly I wanted to strip him naked right there. 

Our conversation eventually headed in the direction of our plans for the evening. Being a petite thing, I was already beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol and feeling a bit bolder from the liquid courage, I teasingly reminded Dan that we had discussed going to a strip club to check out some hot ladies. It had been a long-standing discussion between the two of us I that I needed a girlfriend. While never having been with another woman, Dan knew that I had a bi-curious streak and he did his part to flame my desire. Being short, brunette, and small-busted, we had often joked that I needed a girlfriend that was opposite of me: tall, blonde, and big boobs.

We finished our drinks and taking me by the hand, Dan led me to his car. It was time to go find a gentleman’s club.

Opening the door to the club, the music poured out. We made our way into the club and took a table close to the stage, allowing both of us a good view of the show. I was thankful for the dim lighting as I was hoping it would cover the flush of embarrassment on my cheeks. 

We ordered drinks and while sipping, we watched the sultry dancers. I was quite enthralled with the show and to my delight, pleasantly aroused. I began to snuggle closer to Dan and teasingly placed his hand on my thigh, allowing my dress to hike up above my stockings. Being a garter man, Dan gave me an approving glance and began to caress my thigh, wrapping his finger under and around a garter strap, letting it go with a gentle snap against my leg. 

I leaned closer into Dan, softly kissing his neck. I knew I had to tease him. I couldn’t help myself. 

“Dan,” I whispered in his ear, “Surely, there has to be a girlfriend here for me. The dark-haired dancer over there, is that the one you’d like for me to go down on? Would you like to watch me as I licked her pussy? What about the one with short hair over there by the bar? Do you think she could make me cum? I bet her tongue is so soft and wet. Oh no, not that one, her boobs are way too big and I think they’d get in the way. They have got to be fake, don’t ya think?”

We continued our whispering, commenting on each of the ladies until a new dancer came out on stage. She was gorgeous! I momentarily stopped my whispering to stare at the beautiful woman. She was graceful, tall, and her long blonde hair cascaded over her lightly tanned shoulders. Her perfect breasts were large and round, but not overly large and fake looking like some of the other ladies. Her facial features where cover-girl perfect. She was my dream. 

“Oh, my god,” was all I could manage to squeak out of my gapping mouth, “She is absolutely, fuckin’ gorgeous.” 

Finally being able to bring my jaw into proper alignment, I grinned a stupid grin at Dan and began my whispering again. “Man, that blonde, the one on the stage, she is thee hottest. Isn’t she gorgeous? She’s the one. She’s the one I want for my girlfriend. Whoa, baby! I think I’m in luuuvvvvvv.” I giggled some more until finally resting my head on Dan’s shoulder. 

Her third set finally came to an end and eventually, the blonde dancer began to make her rounds about the club, smiling and flirting with the patrons. I felt my heart skip a beat as she walked close to our table. With a mischievous grin, Dan waved a bill and caught the blonde’s attention. “I think we need a lap dance over here,” he called out. 

Walking to our table, the blonde smiled at us. “Hello,” she said, “My name is Honey, ‘cause I’m so sweet and sticky. Which one of you is wanting a dance?”

“My friend here is quite taken with you,” Dan told the dancer. “I think she would like to see some up close and personal action.” 

“Dan!” I cried, my eyes wide in amazement. “I’m not sure about . . .”

My protests were halted mid-sentence as the dancer grabbed my hands and pulled me from my seat. We followed her to a room in the back and set down on a couch. I was totally lost for words.

“Sit right there, sweetie,” Honey teased. “I’ll take really good care of you.”

As the next song began to play, Honey removed her scanty top, allowing her breasts to tumble forward. Close enough to touch, she began to dance for me almost rubbing her tits in my face. I was totally mesmerized. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I was becoming quite aroused, the blood flowing to my pelvis causing my pussy to throb with desire. My mind began racing with thoughts of grabbing her large tits and bringing them to my mouth, flicking her nipples with my tongue, sucking, biting. She turned around and began to grind her g-string clad hips into my pelvis. God, I wanted to run my hands over her smooth ass and squeeze her flesh between my fingers before giving her a probing lick. The power of her dance was more than I had ever imagined.

Too quickly, the song came to an end. Dan slipped her a twenty and Honey turned to smile at us. 

“You two have a great evening,” she called out as she walked away. 

“Oh my god!” I squealed with excitement. “That was way too fun! Dan, you are the best. This is one evening I will not forget.”

I made a quick trip to the restroom before we left. Dan waited in the corridor outside the bathroom for me. As I exited the bathroom, I saw Dan speaking with Honey, but she quickly left as I approached. 

“What in the world are you doing now?” I asked, the grin still plastered to my face.

“Oh, nothing. I was just telling Honey how much we appreciated her.”

“C’mon.” I gestured my head toward the door. “I’ve got plans for you back at the hotel.”

The drive back to the hotel seemed endless. I couldn’t wait to get back and strip Dan naked. My pussy longed to be to be fucked and to be fucked hard. I wanted so much to feel him deep inside me, pounding me, satisfying me. 

Finally arriving at the hotel, Dan opened the door for me and I immediately pounced on him, throwing him to the couch. I almost ripped the buttons off his shirt as I eagerly tried to get him undressed. Grabbing my wrists and holding them above my head, Dan pinned me to the couch. 

“Slow down, baby,” Dan whispered. “We’ve got time.” 

My hands still above my head, he deeply kissed me, calming me, slowing down my feverish pace. I could feel my body succumb to him, melting with his touch.

“Besides,” Dan smiled as he paused from our kiss, “I’ve ordered room service.” 

“Dan,” I whined, “I’m not hungry. I only want to eat you!” 

Despite my pleas for immediate satisfaction, Dan continued his tease and slowly began to undress me. Kissing me again, I felt his hands on my back, gently tugging at my zipper causing my dress to fall open and tumble down around my shoulders.  He began to nibble and kiss my exposed flesh as he slowly inched the dress down my body until it finally fell in a pile at our feet. As Dan’s experienced fingers unhooked each garter, I kicked off my black heels and added them to the pile of clothing that was growing on the floor. I closed my eyes and laid my head back on the couch lifting my leg, allowing Dan to roll the silky hose down one leg and then the other. My body longed to know him, to feel him intimately, but slowly, painstakingly, Dan continued to undress me until there I sat on the couch, totally naked, wet, and very horny.

As my anticipation grew of what I knew was to come, I heard a knock at the hotel room door.

“Don’t go,” I begged. “Just let ‘em leave it at the door.”

Shaking his head, Dan walked towards the door. I slipped on his shirt, covering my naked, trembling body. As Dan opened the door, I stared in disbelief as Honey entered the room. She was no longer in costume, but fully clothed in a tight t-shirt and short skirt, her breasts pushing against the fabric showing the outline of her gorgeous nipples, her silky, long legs seemed endless. As if possible, she was even more beautiful in her street clothes.

Sitting back on the couch, Dan grinned at me, “You seemed to enjoy yourself so much tonight, I thought you might like another dance.” 

I sat silently on the couch as Honey popped a CD into the stereo. “No One Else on Earth” began playing in the background as Honey slowly, rhythmically began to undress to the beat of the music. Once undressed, she began to squeeze her nipples between her fingers, moaning slightly. Seductively, she ran her hands from her breasts down to her belly and then between her legs, teasingly rubbing her clit. She stepped toward us and leaned down to me, her breasts close enough for me to lick.

“Have you ever sucked a woman’s tits?” she whispered to me. “Would you like to suck mine?”

A bit nervous, I hesitantly reached out my hand, but did not quite touch. She grabbed my hand and brought it to her breast. With my palm, I could feel her nipple. She guided my hand over her breast and I began to caress her, feeling her nipple get harder with each touch. Totally lost in the moment, I leaned forward and gently at first, took her nipple in my mouth. She began to softly moan words of encouragement, and I began to flick her nipple with my tongue while squeezing her other nipple between my fingers. It was amazing. She felt so good.

Honey’s hands began to explore my body, finding their way between my legs. Spreading my legs for her, she began to rub my clit. I couldn’t help but to moan, wanting more. I could feel her slide a finger into my pussy.

“You are so wet,” she purred. “Let me taste.” 

Kneeling on the floor in front of me, Honey lifted the shirt that I was wearing, exposing my bottom half and began to softly kiss my thighs, each kiss getting closer and closer to my mons. I could feel goose bumps cover my flesh when she finally made a probing lick directly on my clit. 

“Oh god, yes,” was all I could moan.

I laid back, closed my eyes, and began to enjoy the sensation of her tongue exploring every inch of me. I could feel the blood as it rushed to my pelvis. My toes began to curl. I had almost forgotten that Dan was still sitting next to me on the couch until I felt his lips softly touch mine. 

Dan’s lips tenderly kissed my lips and then he began to nibble on my ear and neck. I could hear him whisper naughty comments in my ear. I leaned my head to one side, exposing more of my neck, offering it to him. His kisses trailed down my neck and then pushing my shirt aside, I could feel him take my nipple between his lips, squeezing slightly. Oh, it felt so good. All I could do was moan in appreciation. Running my fingers through the back of Dan’s hair, I grabbed his head, clinging to him, pulling him closer to me.

Finally letting go of his head, my hands began to explore his body. I was surprised to find that he had already managed to undress. His excitement was evident. I began to lightly stroke him, teasing the head of his cock with the palm of my hand. About the time I was ready to grab him tightly, Honey began to viciously lap at my clit. Involuntarily, I arched my back and threw my legs over her shoulders, pulling her into me. Her fingers began to explore, softly at first, until building up pressure and rubbing hard on my g-spot. It was more than I could take. I had to release Dan’s hard cock from my hand.

I lay back, enjoying the sensation of being the center of attention and enjoying the sensation of a building orgasm. Like a wave, the orgasm flowed through my body. Breathing uncontrollably, all I could do was pant: “I’m cumming! I’m cumming!”

Squirming with pleasure, I laid back with my eyes closed as she milked the final orgasms from my body. The spasms, once strong and hard, began to slow and weaken until finally stopping. Momentarily dazed, I sat there, trying to catch my breath. Soon, however, I was brought back to reality at the sound of her teasing voice. 

“It looks as if your friend is a bit excited,” she murmured.

I opened my eyes and looked down. Honey had moved from between my legs to between Dan’s legs. I looked on in amazement as she began to lick Dan’s hard on. I could hear him begin to moan, begging to be sucked. I watched as Dan’s cock slowly began to disappear in Honey’s mouth as she stroked him, her head bobbing up and down. 

Other than the occasional porn, I had never seen someone else having sex. I was finding myself quite aroused at the sight. I leaned over to Dan, rubbing my hardened nipples against his hairy chest and began to kiss him. I began to whisper in his ear.

“You like her sucking on your dick, don’t ya? Do her soft, wet lips feel good? I bet you’d love to cum in her mouth, wouldn’t ya? I may not let you cum in her mouth. You might have to save that for me.”

Sliding down off the couch, I dropped to my knees beside Honey. I began to kiss Dan’s thighs. I took one of Dan’s balls into my mouth and began to cradle it with my tongue. I could hear him moan louder as I continued to play and caress. I released Dan from my mouth and began to lick Honey’s soft, wet lips that were still busy pumping away at Dan’s cock. 

“It’s my turn,” I softly spoke. 

I took Dan in my mouth, his cock still wet from her saliva, and began to pump. I loved the feel of him in my mouth, his smooth hardness gliding against my lips. I could hear him moan as I took him deeply into my mouth, my nose almost hitting his abdomen. I sucked on him a while longer and then Honey and I began to alternate, each taking a turn sucking on his hard cock, both of us teasing him, telling him how good he tasted, how we liked to suck him, how we liked to feel him in our mouth, how much we wanted him. It was almost like a game of Russian roulette, wondering which one of us would set him off. 

Finally coming up for air, I looked at Honey, her lips still shiny and wet from sucking Dan. “Let’s not let him cum yet,” I told her. “I wanna be fucked.” 

I got off my knees and headed to the bed, situating myself on all fours, my butt in the air. Honey grabbed Dan’s hands and led him to my waiting ass. She slid a finger into my pussy and then slowly pulled it out. 

“Mmmmmmmmmmm,” she said, placing her finger in her mouth, licking it clean, “She’s so wet for you. I think she’s ready for you.”

Holding Dan’s rigid cock, she guided him to my wet entrance and then with a smack on my ass, she pushed Dan’s throbbing cock inside me. I moaned at the feeling of first penetration. Nothing could have felt better than him filling me completely. 

Slowly at first, Dan began to thrust. I pushed backwards against him, wanting more. Dan grabbed my hips and pulled me to him, grunting with each thrust. Our bodies slapped together in unison giving me what I had so longed for. 

Honey knelt in front of me, teasing me by rubbing her clean-shaven pussy on my lips. I could smell her sweet, intoxicating scent. I had to taste. Sticking out my tongue, I began to lick her pussy lips as best I could from that position. 

“I need to eat your pussy,” I begged.

Willing to oblige my request, Honey laid back on the bed, propping herself up on a pillow and opening her legs wide for me. With my tongue, I began to spread her lips, searching for her swollen, pink mound. Slowly at first, I began to flick my tongue over her clit. She tasted wonderful. 

Curious as to what we ladies were up to, Dan’s thrusting began to slow down, until finally stopping. I looked up from Honey’s pussy to see Dan stroking his cock as he watched me go down on her, enjoying every precious lick. 

No longer having to support myself with my arms, I grabbed Honey’s thighs and spread her legs even wider, licking her from her asshole to her clit. I greedily sucked on her clit, causing her to let out a slight moan. I could see her thighs become wet from her juices. My fingers began to probe and I slid one, then two fingers deep into her pussy, fucking her with my fingers. 

As I continued to lick her clit, I could feel her pussy get tighter. She began to uncontrollably pant. She was getting close to orgasm. I was so excited at the thought of bringing her to orgasm, returning the pleasure that she had already given me. 

“Cum for me, babe,” I moaned. “I wanna feel you cum.” 

Just as she had taken me moments ago, I felt her give herself up to me, and with a loud scream she moaned as her body writhed with orgasm. I could feel her beautiful body twitch and throb in climax, each spasm felt incredible around my fingers.

Not wanting to hurt her sensitive clit, I slowed my pace as she finished her orgasm, slowly and gently caressing her with my tongue until I felt her body finally relax. I then moved my attention to Dan and gave him a deep kiss, letting him taste Honey’s sweet nectar on my lips. 

Pushing Dan to his back, I smiled at him with an evil grin. “I think it’s Honey’s turn to feel how good you are, my dear.”

Knowing what I wanted, Honey instinctively moved herself into position, straddling Dan’s groin. I watched as she slowly lowered herself onto Dan’s throbbing member, moaning as only a woman in need of a hard cock can moan. I moved behind Honey, kissing her shoulders and back, and I placed my hands on her small, well-defined waist, assisting her thrusts. My hands began to travel her body and finding her breasts, I gently cupped them, squeezing her nipples as her body slowly rose and fell. 




A Taste of Honey



“Fuck him good, baby!” I encouraged. “O, god, fu-uck him good.” 

Finally releasing Honey’s breasts, I moved to Dan’s mouth, kissing him again. I watch as their bodies heaved, Honey’s tits bouncing with each thrust. Their faces were filled with expressions of pleasure as they enjoyed the feeling of their bodies united. 

“Dan,” I whispered in his ear while biting his neck, “I need you to make me cum. I need to cum again.”

I stood up on the bed facing Honey and placed a foot on either side of Dan’s head. Gently, but quickly, I lowered myself to his face, his lips only a whisper away. 

“Suck my pussy, Dan!” I begged. “God, please suck my pussy. I need you to make me cum.”

Obligingly, Dan began to feast on my clit, his tongue and lips devouring me. Honey reached out to me, grabbing my tits, fondling my nipples between her experienced fingers as I rocked my way to another orgasm on Dan’s face. I leaned into her, hoping her hands would help me stay upright as the sensations overtook my body, ever ready for another orgasm. 

Dan had been such a good sport throughout, giving both of us what we so badly needed. However, the two of us having our way on Dan, using his body for our pleasure, was beginning to be more than he could take. I heard him grunt and moan as his body involuntarily jerked forward, shooting his hot cum into Honey’s sweet pot. Watching his body thrash in ecstasy set off another powerful orgasm inside me, sending my hot juices pouring down on his face, bathing him in my liquid. Not wanting to hurt my friend and fearing that I could no longer control the movements of my body, I quickly rolled off his head and continued to watch as his body convulsed, spewing wave after wave of hot cum. 

Honey bucked a few more times, gladly accepting each thrust from Dan until both of their bodies calmed. She then gracefully rolled off of his body and laid down beside me, our brows beaded with perspiration from a fucking session well done. I slipped down between Honey’s legs, and gently and sweetly licked her cum-soaked pussy before rising to look in her eyes. Longingly, I deeply and passionately kissed the soft, gentle lips of this beautiful woman, our tongues intertwined. 

Contented, I snuggled in between my two bedfellows, catching a much-needed breath. Exhausted from the experience and from too much alcohol, I laid my head on the pillow ready to get some well-deserved sleep. Honey, however, had other plans. Quietly, she slipped off the bed and gathered her clothes from the floor. As quickly as she had disrobed, she was once again dressed. I followed her to the door and smiled in appreciation for what she had given me – a fantasy realized. Honey smiled back at me, her blue eyes sparkled. 

“I hope you had a good time, sweetie,” she whispered to me giving me a kiss of friendship on my cheek.

“Always,” I said, my face beaming, and I quietly closed the door behind her.



A Taste of Honey



Alternate ending to the movie "Honey." I don't know why they didn't do this originally.

*****

"Look, I don't know, I mean, a job's a job, right?" Honey Daniels asked hesitantly. Things hadn't been going great financially, and with Michael blacklisting her, she was lucky to even get to the audition for most video shoots.

"Trust me," Chaz replied, sipping her Kahlua, "it's no big. I think my brother used to know a guy who worked at that place, and he seemed pretty cool. You can't expect every job to be part of the dream." The club was kickin' tonight, but her friend seemed too pre-occupied to notice. Nobody seemed too pre-occupied to notice her, though... she stood out as ever, in a baby blue tank top and close-fitting black jeans. She'd already done her hair and make-up for the shoot, and even Chaz had to admit that she looked hot.

"I guess so." Honey bit her lip. The ad had said sexy dancers wanted, and she'd only found it this morning, so she hadn't had time to ring up for details. But if she didn't get the money, the storefront she had a deposit down on would go back on the market, and she'd lose her chance to help the kids.

Chaz glanced at the big clock on the wall and leaned over. "Speaking of which, weren't you supposed to be gone by now?"

"Oh, right!" She jumped from her seat, but too quickly, and her drink slopped onto the front of her shirt. It ran in rivulets down her tight, lean stomach, dripping off her dark bronze skin. "Damn!" But there wasn't anything to do about it, so she jogged through the crowd of people, went out the back door, and caught a taxi over to the venue.

She stepped out of the taxi, having attempted to clean her top to no avail, and walked quickly up to the big double doors. The place looked like a warehouse, which further increased her doubts about it... still, she pulled open one of the heavy doors, and walked in.

The warehouse looked like it was divided into two parts, and she was in the smaller end now. To the left were change rooms, and to the right a few cameras were being set up.

It was dark, but she could make out people sitting at a desk a few meters in front of her, and she walked up. Three people sat on the far side: the first a large hairy man, possibly Russian, the second a stunning blonde beauty, and the third a small nondescript man with glasses. She put on a smile that was brighter than she felt. 

"I'm here for the audition, I spilt on my shirt, so I'd need to change into something -"

"Blood type", the burly Russian asked in a thick accent.

"Huh?"

"Vhat is your blood type." He looked at her without seeing her, bored, rheumy eyes.

"Umm... O-Hh, I think."

The three suddenly all sat up straight in their chairs, but it was the small man who spoke first, quietly, but with a voice that demanded attention. 

"That's quite a rare blood type, young lady. Do you know that only one person in approximately one million in the United States has that blood type?"

"I... I guess, I was told it was pretty rare."

"More than rare." The man's eyes gleamed.

The woman stood and said with a big smile on her face, "You're in. Congratulations. Please come over to the changing rooms and get changed for the video."

Honey was glad, but cautiously so. "You don't want to see me dance?"

"I'm sure you’re fine," the blonde replied, taking her gently by the arm and walking her over. They stepped through the door and the woman closed it behind them.

"Look", Honey protested as the woman sorted through piles of clothes, most of it rather revealing, "I'd like to know a little more about what I'll actually be doing. I don't want to be - "

"Just dancing, dear. It'll all be fine."

"But you didn't see me dance!"

The woman picked out a top and skirt, gave them to Honey and led her over to a stall, speaking courtesies and allaying fears. She closed the door, and Honey looked at the close. The top was a sheer, plastic boob-tube type of thing, while the miniskirt seemed to be made of similar material. Even though they were sheer, they did seem very sleek and sexy. She undressed, stepped into the skirt, then slipped the top on.

She walked out and smiled hopefully at the woman. "No", the blonde said, "That just won't work", looking at Honey's bra and panties beneath her clothes. "The underclothes will have to go."

"No way." She knew that this shoot would be sleazy.

"You couldn't pay me enough to wear something like that!" Honey walked back into the stall, preparing to change back into her soiled clothes.

"So thirty thousand dollars wouldn't be enough?" the woman asked casually.

Honey froze. Thirty thousand could pay for the rest of the down payment easily, with plenty to spare for immediate restoration. She argued with herself silently for a few minutes, but that amount of money would be too good.

"I don't know", she said. "I guess... I guess I'll try it." She took the plastic clothes off, and then slipped off her bra, her breasts bouncing free. They weren't large, but they definitely weren't small either, and with most clothes she didn't really need to wear a bra. Her nipples were small and dark, and stiff from the cold room.

She slipped her panties off as well, baring her shaved crotch, before putting the plastic clothes back on. They felt quite good against her bare skin, she had to admit.

She stepped back out, looking like a goddess to the blonde, but the older woman managed to keep her cool.

"You can almost see my nipples!" Honey exclaimed, looking down at herself. The woman could see them quite clearly, but she kept it to herself; because of the way the costume was made, the angle at which you looked determined how much you saw. 

"Look, the way the cameras work, they won't be able to see anything through it," the woman coerced.

"I don't know... are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Well... okay then."

The woman led Honey out of the changing rooms into the other end of the warehouse.


***

The cameras were set up, and the small man watched one of the screens as Honey was led into the dark room.

The Russian spoke. "So how does this verk again?"

The small man sighed. For the leading producer of pornography in the world, the Russian wasn't very quick on the uptake. "I'll start from the top:”

"You know how animals communicate in different ways, some by smell, some by body language, some even by taste and feel? In a certain species of monkey, a male communicates his aroused state to the female by pheromones, causing her to get excited, which is quite common in animals. What's interesting about this specific species, though, is that their pheromone also works on humans, after a bit of molecular reconfiguring, but so far only humans of a specific blood type. This girl has this specific blood type.

"What we'll do is put her in an enclosed environment, and then pump large amounts of this pheromone into the air. After a while, she'll become sexually excited, and won't be able to hold herself back from actions she would otherwise never consider."

The Russian nodded. "And why no fucking?"

"Look, we'd like to, but we're taking a risk as it is. If evidence was found of anal or vaginal sex, we'd be in serious trouble, and it's a lot easier to prove. It certainly works with fucking as well, as you'll probably notice. She'll get so excited she won't be able to hold herself back from doing anything sexual."

The Russian grinned. "I cannot vait."

The small man turned back to the screen, his eyes on the stunning brunette. "Neither can I."

***

"Wait", Honey said. "Why do you want me to get in there?" She looked at the weird glass dome in trepidation. It was recessed about three feet into the ground, and spotted with what looked like air holes.

"It's the theme of the music video," the blonde replied, starting to get annoyed at this girl despite the attraction she felt towards her. "Being trapped in a place you can't get out of. Like a cage."

"Okay..." 

The woman pressed a button on the floor, and the dome lifted, Honey ducking under the lip. It closed again, but didn't really make her feel claustrophobic... there was still quite a bit of space above her, although it was only about four feet in diameter, and she was almost able to touch opposite sides at once.

The woman assured her that it'd be starting in a few minutes, and walked off, leaving Honey in the dome, half-naked and shivering, her arms wrapped around her breasts. It was exciting to be on a shoot again, though, and she felt a thrill of excitement go through her.

The thrill didn't seem to want to stop. It ran down her spine, and then back up to her breasts, and then down to her... No, she thought, and moved her hand away from where it had subconsciously wandered.

***

The Russian watched her snatch her hand away from her crotch and grinned. "Vhat, it's started already?"

The small man looked at the screen in confusion. "No, not yet. She's doing that by herself." He grinned, and turned to the blonde. "Are the cameras in position?"

"Yes, sir."

"The lights? The men?"

She smiled. "We're ready to roll."

The man pushed his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose, and pressed a button on a remote control he'd had hidden in his pocket. "Here we go..."

***

What's that noise? Honey looked around the floor of the dome, uneasy again. She knelt down, looking toward the source of the faint hissing noise and made out a small nozzle, with a heavy yet almost fully transparent greenish gas coming from it. She bent her face down next to the nozzle and took a deep whiff of the gas, trying to work out what it was. It had the odour of sweat, but not disgusting sweat... more like, strong sweat. Sweat from exertion. Sweat from action, and...

No, she thought to herself, as the lights came on.

"Okay, we're almost ready," said the small man through a megaphone. "Bring the guys out. Honey, be ready to dance."

From all corners of the room, tall men, both black and white, came walking out, just wearing jeans. They lined up in rows around Honey's dome, and the music started.

It was a deep, guttural beat, a base that seemed to resound through her entire body. And she began to move. It was electric.

Every now and then the director would call cut, and start it from the start again, but it was pretty much non-stop hip-hop dancing. Soon she was dripping with her own sweat, but not only that... her pussy had become unbearably wet, and she could feel the trickle of the juices running down her leg as she moved. 

The men weren't helping any; each of them had bodies that seemed to be chiseled out of granite, and she couldn't help openly staring at the front of their pants, especially since her head was around the same height as their penises... it was painfully obvious that some of them were very erect, but not only that, very big too.

Her movements became more and more frantic as she used them to rub her thighs together, trying to get relief to her burning twat. It just further enflamed it, and finally, she couldn't help herself... and stuck both hands under her skirt, rubbing frantically. 

She began to moan wildly, so loudly the men were looking down at her and grinning, some of them sticking their hands down their own pants... and suddenly, the director gave an order, and the men took of their pants, right as Honey came for the first time, screaming wildly. She was dripping sweat, as went forward, looking at the men, begging them to give her a cock.

They stood in a circle around the dome, but didn't stick their cocks into the holes yet... they were just out of reach, but so erect, and some of them were stroking them as they looked at her... it was more than she could bear.

"Please, give them to me. Come on, please, I need them. She tried to stick her hand through one of the holes but she couldn't get her thumb through. "Please, give me your cocks, I need them so bad... I need your come." It was torture.

Finally, the director gave the order, and they moved in. 

She was in heaven... she grabbed the closest penis and threw her mouth at it, furiously jacking the man off, licking his balls, begging him for his semen, the other hand at work under her skirt. After a minute he moaned, and his come splashed the back of her throat... the men were shouting at her to grab their cocks, so she took one in each hand, and used her mouth on a third, and it wasn't soon before all three came at once, the ones she jacked off came over her body, the come splashing her face, her shoulders, her toned midriff, her plastic-covered breasts... she lost count of the times she came as she jerked off and sucked cock after cock after cock, the come washing down her, collecting in her hair, between her breasts, sliding down the crack of her ass. 

She slurped as she sucked the come off so many cocks that she could feel her belly filling with the cum of innumerable men, the semen splashing her from all sides as men stuck their cocks through the holes as they came from jacking themselves off at the sight of her, covered in come mixed with her own sweat as she furiously rubbed her pussy. 

She finally collapsed, exhausted, in the pool of come that had collected around her on the floor, and that's what the blonde pulled her out of after she'd lifted the dome. 

"Leave this one in my care," she said to the small man, and he obliged, giving them privacy.

The blonde woman kissed Honey's cum-covered lips, licking the goop off her cheeks, uncovering the flawless bronze skin below. She sucked the come out of the crevasse between Honey's breasts before removing her top, and licked all the come from her breasts. 

She moved down to her midriff, scooping puddles of semen off with her hand and slurping them up, before moving to her pussy and cleaning that with her tongue, giving Honey another orgasm that she hardly noticed in her dazed semi-consciousness. 

She cleaned her off thoroughly, lovingly dressed her back in the clothes she'd come in on, and drove her to her home, leaving her in her bed, with a sensual kiss on the lips, and a check for thirty thousand dollars on her bedside table.

***

"Vill she remember it?" the Russian asked.

The small man nodded. "Possibly, but only on her terms. Her mind will protect itself against anything that it can't handle, and she will most likely only remember the pleasure she experienced, in any case." 

He pulled out the funding contract, and offered it to the burly Russian, who smiled.