The Brotherhood - Believe It Or Not Part 6

G.o.d almighty, such a s.e.xy voice.Harrison 's hard-on grew stiffer. He'd heard the expression "he could f.u.c.k you with his voice," but never before had he experienced listening to one that measured up to it.

This man's voice could not only f.u.c.k you, it could make you come and then gladly lie in the wet spot. "See?" the fellow went on. "This is Mikey, moving away. Bye-bye, Mikey. And good riddance, the cheater. Now, now, don't cry. Clean that pretty face up.These cardshere say you're going to meet someone even better, and soon. There, that's the smile I wanted to see. Forget about the past and move on with the future. Dream. Believe in your dreams, and it's just like magic. You'll see."

Harrisonheard sniffling, then rustling, as if the one Mikey had betrayed had thrown himself into the other man's arms for a hug. "Thank you," he said, voice raw probably from crying. "I didn't know what else to do, and I never thought someone like you would have time for someone like me, but thank you, thank you, thank you."

The fantasy man chuckled. "You're welcome. Now, why don't you go back down to the dance floor?

Take a few turns around and see who you find. And if you get the chance, stomp on Mikey's instep for making you upset. As for me, I believe I have another visitor."

"Oh. Oh, sure. You must get a lot of them. I'll go. But thank you. Thank you."

"Yes, yes."

Harrisonstepped back as a surprisingly young man stumbled out. He was almost androgynously pretty as a girl, with long silver hair and a pointed chin. For some reason the youth had also chosen to wear prosthetics on his ears, which made them pointed as well. Heaven help the current generation; thoseLord of the Rings movies had done strange things to young folk who wanted to be just likeOrlando orhave Orlando when they grew up.

The boy glanced up atHarrison . Harrison could only imagine what he must look like to the lovely young thing -- a tall, bulky, scowling man -- but surely not so frightening as to elicit the response he got, which was a squeak and a hasty "'Scuse me" before the lad darted out of his way and went from zero to sixty running down the hall.

Harrisonstared after him, baffled.

"Oh, don't mind Kells," his fantasy man drawled. "He's a bit shy. Actually, no, he's not. He's a bit of a seer, although not when it comes to himself, more's the pity. He's also smart enough to get in out of the rain, or out of the eye of the storm, whichever you prefer." The silky, s.e.xy voice dripped with amus.e.m.e.nt. "Well? Aren't you going to turn around and meet me face-to-face? I know what you look like, of course. I think you know what I look like, too."

Harrison's hands tightened into solid fists, neatly clipped nails pressing into the skin of his palms. "Stop playing games."

"Who said they're games?" the Magician taunted.

Pivoting,Harrison glared down at a blond man with one blue eye and one brown, resplendent in his astoundingly gaudy purple cape with its high starched collar. d.a.m.n it all, hewas the oneHarrison had seen earlier.

"Martin, I take it?"

"One and the same." "I a.s.sume you'd prefer to call yourself the Magician?"

"Whichever. When we're just being casual, Martin works fine. Good to meet you in person at last.

C'mon in." Martin flashedHarrison a look comprising equal parts s.e.x, mischief, and cunning. "I know you want to." The Magician licked his lips. "I know you wantme . By the p.r.i.c.king of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes. And, if he's very good, he'll be allowed tocome again. Get it?"

Chapter Four.

Harrison's heart started hammering as the Magician spoke his innuendoes. He felt the need to loosen his collar so he opened two b.u.t.tons and then shifted from one foot to the other in an attempt to adjust his c.o.c.k. "Youknow I want you? Really?"

"Really and truly." Martin was proving as hypnotizing a personality in the flesh as he was in e-mail.Harrison could hardly take his eyes away from the man, who was as gorgeous as he'd been inHarrison 's strange dreams and in the window trick, golden and lithe. Tempting as forbidden fruit.

"Truly and really."

An attack of shyness overcameHarrison as Martin stared him over with no-holds-barred smoldering s.e.xual interest. He hid his nerves behind stilted speech he might have given during a lecture. "An interesting statement, given we've only now introduced ourselves in person. I might be gay, but I am not one of the subset who immediately falls into bed after one look from, as I think you intended, a pair of 'bedroom eyes.'"

Martin laughed, apparently tickled pink. "You're as good as I thought you'd be. Come in, why don't you?"

"Not yet, thank you."Harrison folded his arms across his chest and stood firmly in the doorway, refusing to move until he was taken seriously.

He looked around, a.s.sessing the Magician's chamber. If Martin had been the one to decorate his quarters -- if they were really his own and not borrowed for the occasion -- he certainly did take his "Magician" persona seriously, didn't he?

The walls were made from roughly carved stone blocks plastered together by an oddly gritty mortar. A bare stone floor was partially covered by a ludicrously elaborate Hindi design rug (meant to be a flying carpet, no doubt). There was spa.r.s.e furniture in a carved wooden medieval style. Shelves decorated with the sort of tacky bric-a-brac that cried cliche -- candles, skulls, worn leather books, et cetera, et cetera.

A single window with an arched top and a fine view out into a curiously purple night sky. Torches mounted the walls, blazing cheerfully, the only other source of light besides the dimmed illumination ofCharleston 's nightlife coming from the window.

Harrisonsupposed the whole rigmarole was meant to impress. On the contrary, the room bored him.

He'd expected something a little more original from Martin than a prefabricated "abracadabra" style.

"Bedroom eyes. Mmm," Martin commented, his voice laced with deeply s.e.xual interest. "Pity you didn't fall into them. They usually work. I've asked you twice, but I'll ask a third time. Come in, won't you?" Martin entered the chamber ahead ofHarrison , not even waiting to see if he was being followed. His air of smug self-confidence madeHarrison 's teeth itch, while the rest of Martin's demeanor jangledHarrison 's nerves.

"I came here to meet you for a face-to-face interview," he said woodenly. "No more. No less."

"Interview with the Magician?" Martin winked as he reached a low table made of some shining dark wood and ran his fingers over the gla.s.s top. Despite himself,Harrison couldn't help noticing how long, delicate, and beautiful the man's digits were. The hands of an artist, a musician, or... a skilled trickster. A thief.

Martin picked up what looked like a deck of cards. He palmed them to and fro; then he winked atHarrison as he did a Vegas-style shuffle, sending the cards in an arc from hand to outstretched hand.Harrison couldn't quite tell for sure in the torchlight, but he would have bet money the cards were a Tarot deck.

Before Martin could offer,Harrison headed him off at the pa.s.s. "Thank you, but I'm not interested in having my fortune told."

"Who said I was going to tellyour fortune? The cards can show us ever so many things."

"The Tarot is a mysticized remnant of card games first developed in the fourteenth century,"Harrison recited on autopilot. "According to many reliable records, there is no mention of the cards being employed in so-called arcane usage until the 1800s."

"Who told youthat ? You never heard of Hebrew Kabbalah divination? Egyptian Senet? Nordic runes?

Celtic ogham? The I Ching? Fortune-telling cards were all the rage in the Middle Ages, too. Don't trust everything you read on the Internet. Records can lie, you know. Ever heard that history is written by the winners?"

Harrison rattled on over Martin's teasing question, trying at the same time to ignore the effect Martin's tantalizing voice was having on his c.o.c.k, now fully hard and insisting on being paid some attention. "Tarot decks are fanciful and attractive playing cards. Nothing more."

"If you think they're such a hoax, why not let me read your fortune and see what I canSee ?"

"I've heard the practiced spiel about mysteries and the unknown from plenty of others."Harrison shook his head. "I don't need to hear this particular speech again."

Especially not in your voice. Your voice might make me want to believe. Which would be bad.

Very bad. Listen here, body. I am not led around by my c.o.c.k, understand? Martin might be beautiful, but he's not someone to go and get all jolly over. Behave.

"You're not the slightest bit interested in watching me work the hoax in person so you can point and laugh and take notes on where I go wrong? No?" Martin clicked his tongue. "Honestly. You're as rude in person as you always are in e-mail. Ill-mannered as a peasant. Fortunately, I'm willing to overlook your lack of training because you're just too tasty not to indulge myself."

"Should I thank you?"

"It'd be a start." Martin licked his lips suggestively. "Do enter. It's a harmless invitation.Come ." Harrisonfelt a firm pressure at his back, as if some unseen presence was pushing his body forward. He took several startled, stumbling steps inside. The door slammed behind him.

Wonderful. Done with strings, I'm guessing. And of course it'll be locked from the inside. He probably has a deadbolt, too.Harrison sighed and resigned himself to being the Magician's "prisoner"

until Martin got tired of playing games.

"Nice trick. Am I supposed to be amazed?"

"I'd be awfully flattered if you are."

"Then I regret to tell you your attempt to astound me has failed. I don't impress easily, particularly not over penny-ante stage tricks."

"Darn. And I really was going to read your cards, too. It would have been ever so interesting. Oh, well."

Martin tossed his Tarot cards aside onto the nearby table. He dropped gracefully into a wooden chair decorated in once-bright paints, now fading, and the gleam of gold. Good Lord, was that real gold?

Harrisonstopped looking when he noticed Martin watching him with a grin.

"Always a.n.a.lyzing every little doohickey you run across, eh? I figured that'd be your thing. As for calling my command over the elements stage tricks, you would, wouldn't you?" Martin's smile lines crinkled with teasing good humor. "Tell me, Harrison," he said, drawing the name out as if he were running his tongue alongHarrison 's d.i.c.k, "what do I have to do to get you to believe one single word that comes out of my mouth?"

"You might try telling the truth."

Martin's bi-colored eyes widened with childlike innocence. "Is that all? Then, how's this? I am not a Magician. I am a fake. I surround myself with trinkets and toys and capes and gargoyles and skulls and the special kind of drippy candles that Italian restaurants like to put in wine bottles because that's what fakes like me do. I'm smart enough to fool almost everyone, but I can't pull the wool over your eyes, you clever thing, you. Woe, for I am discovered!" He threw a hand across his forehead and sagged.

Then, he glanced up, sparkling with mischief. "Did it work?"

Harrisoncounted to ten. Slowly. "I can see this is going to be a long night."

"We can only hope."

"And please stop flirting,"Harrison begged.It makes me want to run and hide or tackle you to the floor. I don't know which. Don't make me have to choose .

"Stop flirting? Can do. Why would I play around with words when I finally have the chance to get my physical hands on you?"

Harrisonblinked. He hadn't seen Martin get out of his chair, much less dart around, but the man's slim hand was suddenly onHarrison 's shoulder, pushing him into an opulent seat.

"Delicious," Martin approved, running his beautiful hands overHarrison 's upper back. "I love a manwith a neck like a bull's. Mind you, the girth must make finding collars that fit a real b.i.t.c.h, but you can only ask so much from stores. Frankly, I like making my own gear." He pressed hard asHarrison tried to resist him. "Sitdown ."

Harrisonsat. The chair, apparently unaccustomed to anyone his size, creaked a bit under his weight.

"There," Martin crooned, leaning forward to pinHarrison in place. Standing in the position he was, Martin keptHarrison unable to move out of his seat unlessHarrison was willing to get rough.

It seemed Martin knew him too well.Harrison would never hit anyone, no matter how tempted. Too reserved, too clumsy, too easily trapped, and Martin somehowknew it was so.Harrison had no choice at all but to remain still when Martin lightly touched two fingers to both of his temples.

"Let's see what's inside, shall we? Snips and snails and puppy-dog tails, since that's what little boys are made of?" Martin pressed in close enough forHarrison to catch his scent of rosemary, pine, patchouli, and smoke. Intoxicating. Close enough to makeHarrison uncomfortably hard, desperate for release.

Tempting. Very tempting. Deliberately tempting.

No, more than tempting. Offering. Martin'd laid himself out on a silver plate, all ready forHarrison to take the bait.

Harrisonwanted to give in, let go, and run wild.

Drugs. It must be more drugs, or maybe something subliminal.Harrison shook his head in an effort to clear his mind. "Martin, take your hands off me," he said as firmly as he could. "I'm warning you.

Stop."

"Why would I do that when we're just getting started?" Martin blithely ignoredHarrison 's irritation and rubbed his fingertips in small circles over the delicate skin ofHarrison 's temples. "Hmm, not the stuff of little boys, after all. Lube and s.p.u.n.k and sweaty man-junk, that's what big gay dudes are made of."

Harrisonwas disgusted. "Must you be so crude?"

"I really must. Now hold still."

"Why?"Harrison asked, suspicious.

"Because I'm going to kiss you. I don't want to miss and end up with my tongue in your left nostril."

"You're going to wha-- mmph!" Martin had tilted their heads at exactly the right angle and laid his lips overHarrison 's. After the first moment's shock,Harrison tried to break away, but Martin had him pinned good and tight. He could no more move the Magician than he might have been able to shift the statue of Bastet.

He fumed as Martin's mouth pressed against his own. Fumed.

For a moment.

Then, because he was gay, d.a.m.n it, and G.o.d help him, h.o.r.n.y as h.e.l.l,Harrison moaned with pleasure and a little bit of despair as his body took over once and for all and outvoted his mind. d.a.m.n traitorous body. Pheromones... hormones... His mind seemed oddly adrift, as if he were losing his grip on reality the way he knew it... was slipping into some odd, semi-hypnotic state.

What was I thinking about just now? Don't recall. Odd. Why am I thinking when I could be enjoying this kiss?

Mmm. Wonderful kiss! Martin definitely knew what he was doing, pushingHarrison 's head back for better access, plunderingHarrison 's mouth with a thrusting tongue, and nibbling atHarrison 's lips. He took control like a man born to lead, overriding anythingHarrison tried to introduce.

Harrisongroaned as Martin nimbly climbed into his lap, one knee on either side of his hips, pressing their bodies chest-to-chest. Starting at the neck he'd admired earlier, Martin ran his hands downHarrison 's shoulders, across the top of his chest, and down both arms. The Magician made small, deeply happy noises as he explored, apparently deciding he liked what he found.

The kiss could have gone on forever, but ended all too soon.Too soon?Harrison managed to puzzle through the haze of his thoughts.But I hadn't wanted him to kiss me at all... had I? I can't remember.

Martin's expression had dropped every nuance but raw sensuality.Harrison gazed back at the other man with lazy but enthusiastic antic.i.p.ation, feeling both stoned and buzzed, wanting to giggle.

"Now that's a little more like it." Martin traced a finger downHarrison 's cheek. "l.u.s.t becomes you."

Harrisonreached up to grasp Martin's hand. He couldn't quite find the right words, but for once in his life didn't feel as if he needed any. Although, after a moment, he decided to offer up a drunken smile.

"That's my good boy."

Good boy. The words resonated inHarrison 's mind. They felt like a benediction. A blessing. G.o.d, it was so easy and so fabulous to just give in. Why had he fought so hard against this?

"Yes," he got it together enough to reply.

Martin brushed a second light kiss across his lips. "Now, this is so you won't throw a temper fit later and hurl a drippy candle at my head. I want you to know I haven't given you any drugs, and I haven't hypnotized you. All I did was loosen up those choking inhibitions to let the real you out to play. That's all." He growled playfully, takingHarrison by the collar. "And youdo want to play, don't you? Deep down, you've wanted to play for a long time now."

Harrisontested his free will. He could have said "no," and knew normally he would have -- submitting so easily was too unlike him -- but he didn't want to deny the strange, fascinating power and beauty of whatever was happening.

He wanted to have fun for a change.