Desperate Lovers by Adam Carpenter (good beach reads TXT) 📕

Aaron pulled the car onto a side road, his GPS giving him perfect directions. Along the winding drive, they could smell the brine of the Pacific, not unlike their own home on Eldon Court, but of course where Danvers Converse called home there weren’t any other homes, and certainly not any nosy neighbors. And there was definitely not a group of homos here to bring down property values, as he no doubt saw it.

Surprised there was no gate to impede their progress, they emerged through a copse of trees, and there, standing proud on a bluff looking over the cliff, was Danvers Converse’s large, brick mansion, as classic as they came, built to the demanding man’s exacting standards. A car was parked under the portico, and Aaron thought there was something familiar about it. He remarked on it, but Paolo just shrugged.

“It’s a car,” he said.

“Said a man who drove down the PCH in a Sebring convertible. You’re no help.”

Parking behind the silver Porsche, Aaron again gave the car a look; these cars were a dime a dozen in California, so why it caught his interest he wasn’t sure. But his pondering would have to wait, as he and Paolo steeled themselves for whatever was to happen next. They came to the front door, saw an old-fashioned brass knocker in the center—like any neighbor could just knock and ask for a cup of sugar. Paolo reached up and used it, the sound echoing in the wind off the ocean.

They waited, knocked again, waited, and finally were rewarded with someone coming to the door. Rewarded was the right word, as the occupant was a young guy, probably no more than twenty-three or four, and he was dressed in a tight pair of Speedos; his body was dripping wet, so clearly he’d just come from the pool, despite the fact he held a camera in his hand. Aaron and Paolo just stood there looking at this hot stud, at his wiry, muscular frame, the package stuffed into the thin bathing suit, at the covering of curly brown hair on his chest, the three-day stubble on his face. But it was his eyes that really caught their attention: blue like the ocean, sparkling with life, and also, staring back at them with curiosity.

“Can I help you? Surely you’re not lost. This is private property.”

“Oh, sorry, we were looking for a bed and breakfast,” Aaron said, having rehearsed this scenario in his mind earlier. “This was just too beautiful…uh, and large,” he said, eyeing the guy’s crotch, “you know, to be someone’s home.”

“Well, it is a home, mine,” the guy answered. “And I’m kind of busy.”

Aaron wasn’t sure how he was going to gain access to the house, but he wouldn’t have to. Paolo suddenly spoke up, saying, “Are you a relative of Mr. Converse’s?”

The guy’s expression wavered. “Thought you were looking for a B&B? What’s going on here?”

“Nothing untoward,” Aaron said, “we work for Mr. Converse, he’s spoken so much about his home in Carmel and we were near, so we thought we’d check it out. Are you his…what, his grandson?”

“It’s none of your business who I am, and you guys are trespassing. So I suggest you get back in your car. Do it now and I won’t tell my uncle you were here.”

Uncle, Aaron noted.

Before he could answer, another voice, deep and male, entered their conversation, from the back of the house.

“Troy, what the fuck?” the other man said, “Get rid of whoever it is, I don’t have all day.”

“Sorry, gentleman, I’m working.”

And with that, Danvers Converse’s nephew, who happened to be named Troy, slammed the door shut. The turn of the lock was loud, making a point. Aaron and Paolo retreated to their car, and hastily left the stately grounds. As they zoomed back onto the PCH, heading toward Wonderland, they discussed what they had learned, what they hadn’t, and whether they were missing some important point there.

“What a bust of a trip,” Paolo said.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Aaron said, his mind working overtime to figure things out. Did Danvers have a gay relative, is that what made him so angry? Is that what set him to destroy the lifestyle of those in Wonderland because they were so comfortable in their own skin, like Troy was, while Danvers had to settle for private, hidden sexual encounters?

Think about it: a hot photographer dressed in a Speedo, a guy calling out to him from the pool, his subject anxious to get to work, a Porsche parked out front, the voice from the back naming Troy. There was something familiar about the name Troy, and also something far too familiar about the man’s voice. Like he knew him…but damned if he could come up with anything.

Business, though, could wait until later. Paolo was behind the wheel of the car, which meant Aaron had some pleasuring to do. He quickly plunged down onto Paolo’s cock, already rock hard in anticipation, and while he sucked him, his mind ventured back to the sexy guy at the door, at that impressive bulge in his crotch and his scruffy face, his nice hairy chest. He sucked his lover with deep passion, and Paolo cried out and soon came and came with eager grunts. Aaron, happily sucking down each drop, had to wonder if Paolo had been thinking of sexy Troy too during the blowjob.

Sunset had settled over Wonderland when they returned home to

Eldon Court, and as they pulled the car into the driveway, they noticed a visitor waiting on their front porch. Aaron was surprised to see his wayward brother.

“Hey, Dane, where ya been?” Aaron asked, approaching the porch steps.

Dane, his blonde hair sticking up in all sorts of directions, no doubt intentionally, stood from the wicker chair he’d clearly been sitting in for awhile, fear written across his face. His wiry frame was a bundle of nervous energy. He embraced his brother, then Paolo.

“Thank God you’re back. I called your cell, but there was no answer.”

“Oh, yeah, we turned them off during the drive.”

“Fewer distractions,” Paolo said with a