Desperate Enemies 3 by Adam Carpenter (latest ebook reader .txt) 📕

foot caught in the bathtub, Parker came along and helped me get it out and we fell, and before I realized it my cock had slipped up his ass. And hell, it was already there, so why not keep going, fuck him hard, it's just sex, it's not love.’ Is that it?”

“You think I had sex with Parker?”

“Oh, I know it. You've been fighting it since he showed up in Wonderland.”

“It wasn't even sex,” Rich said, “It was a power play.”

“Oh, right. You mean, whoever got to be on top, possessed all the power? So what was the agreement, you fuck him and he goes away, leaves Eldon Court and Wonderland, never to return to our shores. . . well guess what, Rich, you must not have been your usual self in bed or wherever the hell you fucked him, because Parker is still here, and he's got some new agenda, of that I'm sure. So. . .” Marc's face suddenly went ghost white as a sudden realization hit him. “Holy shit, Parker's still here in Wonderland because he has all the power—over us, over you. Well, as I live and breathe, the unthinkable has actually happened. Richard North, aggressive top, dominant lover, has finally bottomed. And bottomed out, too.”

“Marc, you're over-reacting. . .” Rich said, trying to reach out to take hold of his lover.

Marc twisted away, leaving Rich's arms to fall impotently to the blankets. Making his way for the door, he stopped only when Rich pleadingly called out his name.

“Don't leave, not like this.”

Marc, choking back angry tears, said, “Dammit, this was supposed to be a new start for both of us. You convinced me to come with you to Wonderland, how great it would be. Such a fucking joke, us, all of this, even the damn name of the town.” He paused, trying to keep his breathing even. “Let me know when the doctors are ready to release you, I don't want to be home when you get there. In the meantime, enjoy your sponge baths.”

“Marc, stop. You can't leave. Eldon Court is our home.”

“Not anymore,” said Marc, and with that he swung open the door and slipped out. He didn't look back once as he made his way out of the hospital, fearing his resolve would weaken. For once, Marc Anderson wanted to be in control. Power play indeed.

Good-bye innocence.

Hello revenge.

* * * *

Where the day had gone, Marc couldn't be sure. Night had fallen and it was unseasonably cool as September approached. Summer was waning like the day, twilight a theme in his relationship with Rich as well. He'd gone to the beach and walked for hours, wondering if he really was brave enough to leave Rich. And then do what, return back east and resume his previous life? His art career was off to a meaningless start, what good was reputation when only one man—and a crazy, vengeance-driven man—was the sole owner of your work?

He'd have to start all over again. With everything.

Now, turning the car onto Eldon Court, headlights guiding him past darkened houses, he wondered if the empty feeling on the street was symbolic of something bigger. No one appeared to be home. Had they all abandoned their homes, bailed on their crumbling facades? Marc considered stopping at Paolo's house to check in on how his friend was doing, but he wasn't in the mood to be rejected by someone else; so far Paolo had refused any overture. So Marc just parked the car, and bounded his way up the steps. He wanted wine, yes, he liked that idea, him and a bottle and his porch and the hidden night, contemplating future successes while drowning his present-day sorrows.

Five minutes later, the cork opened and the first glass poured, he retired to the porch and he watched the progression of the night's white moon. Still dressed in his shorts and T-shirt from earlier, the chill of the evening sunk deep beneath his skin, down to his soul. Or maybe that was just a reaction to the drama of the day. My God, had he really walked out on Rich? He pondered whether he really had the guts to follow through on his threat. If he didn't do it now, he'd never do it—his words would never again carry such weight. Much like Rich's, promising he'd never fuck around on Marc again, only to do it just hours later. With Parker.

After the third glass of wine, Marc was feeling better, a bit woozy.

That's when a sports car turned onto Eldon Court and made its way to Number Two. It was the aforementioned Parker, his frame easily made out in the strong glow of the moon. He carried a couple of bulky packages in his bulging arms as he made his way up the porch steps. A motion detector operated an overhead light and suddenly Parker was bathed in low, yellow rays. Marc took a sip of his wine as he watched the man fumble for his keys. He dropped them and had to bend down for them. An image of Rich thrusting into that ass flooded Marc's mind, and then he realized, no, that's not right, Rich was the one who had bent over and Parker had shoved his hard cock inside him, pounding him while sweat dripped down that magnificent chest. . .

Marc's cock jerked inside his tight shorts, excited by the explicit images being projected in his mind. He knew what he had to do; no, what he needed to do. He wondered if he would have the courage. But then he remembered his earlier pledge to himself, stand up for yourself, no more letting Rich's double standards rule his life. So Marc drained the last of his glass, throwing it against the cement path as he made his way to the sidewalk. The shattering sound of broken crystal erupted in the silence of the night, causing Parker to swirl around.

“Who's there. . . what's going on?”

“Your neighbor, come to borrow