“Evening, fellas.” Shiloh stood as they approached and put the smoke out with his shoe. “I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a United States citizen passport book. It was blue with gold foil lettering.
“Did you catch Diego?” Screw the guessing game, he had to know.
“That’s my good news. Yes. Port Authority Police caught Mr. Oalo at JFK airport.” Shiloh handed him the passport.
It looked familiar. He flipped it open and saw it was his. “Where did you get this?”
“Brazilian Airways confiscated it from Mr. Oalo when he tried to pose as a Blake Morgan III boarding a direct flight, first class, to Rio.”
“What tipped the airline off?”
“The ticket agent noticed the stamps in your passport never had you going to Brazil before. When the agent looked closer at your photo and read the description, she saw the ID had blue eyes. Mr. Oalo’s are brown. The check-in counter called security who’d seen the FBI Most Wanted listing and called us.” Shiloh didn’t seem smug about it, rather more matter-of-fact.
Relief came over him. “Thank you.” Blake leaned in to Miguel’s strong frame for support, putting his arm around him. “This is such great news.”
“Mr. Oalo will go before a judge tomorrow. We have a long road ahead of us if this goes to trial. I wanted to be the first to tell you he’s behind bars.”
Happy and sad, Blake couldn’t breathe as he held on to Miguel tighter. “What’s the bad news?” Blake asked, wiping a tear away from his face. He didn’t know why he was crying.
Shiloh pretended not to notice. “The press is going to be intense. You work at Brill, Inc., so you know how the media can be.”
“How big is this story?” He thought about all the good people’s names which would be dragged into this. All those families of the victims coming forward for help. The boys who’d partied along with Diego would all be exposed.
“The story will make headlines in a few hours if it hasn’t already. It’s one of the biggest cases we’ve had all year. Port Authority has already released a statement. Our FBI office will do the same.”
“What can I do?”
“Avoid all interviews until our office says it’s okay. Tell your friends to do the same. We clear?”
“Very.” No one better came to Blake’s mind to manage the journalists than Taddy. The woman had her way with them. He thanked the detective and went inside with Miguel.
Taking Brutus out for a long walk while Miguel showered, he thought about what Diego’s capture meant to him and the other victims. The beginning of closure. A time to rid himself of his demons and take faith in a fresh start. As a single gay man in Chelsea...or part of a new and exciting relationship in the Lower East Side? He wasn’t sure. But he had to make up his mind and tell Miguel exactly what he needed. If he couldn’t deal then screw him. If he’d learned anything during his past mistakes with Diego it was to never lower your expectations in yourself because those around you have lowered it in themselves.
Miguel’s Bottom
Midtown
Blake dressed in his tuxedo at The Plaza suite reserved for them to get ready near St. Patrick’s Cathedral. All traffic going north of Forty-Second Street and west of Madison Avenue had been closed off for Lex and Massimo’s royal wedding.
Miguel had assured him how excited he was that his parents were indeed coming for the day’s celebration. The Santana’s acceptance of their son being gay gave him a new reason to whoop it up.
He studied his attire in the mirror, a midnight-colored jacket and slacks designed by Jemma. Proud of his accomplishments from the gym, he’d worked hard in recent months to have his body tight. That day was his first time getting formally dressed and showing off his physique in he couldn’t remember how long. He turned, admiring his backside. Did he actually look better with the buzzed haircut? Or was it the love Miguel had given him throughout the week which made him all the more attractive. Even the scar on his face didn’t seem as noticeable with his short haircut.
The bathroom door opened. “Jemma did a bueno job with these, didn’t she?” Miguel stepped out. The suit framed his massive Latino physique perfectly.
He examined him. “So handsome.”
Miguel’s broad chest was decorated by onyx button covers. A black bowtie sat around his neck, and he wore the black loafers Lex insisted upon.
“You like?” He turned around and gave him a three-sixty inspection. His cock bulged a bit from the front when he turned back around.
“Very much.” His gaze froze on Miguel’s crotch as it continued to swell. As big as a garden hose, the cock stood up and over to the side.
“Gracias.” Miguel closed the distance between them. “Let’s fuck before we go to the wedding.”
He felt sex coming off him as he wrapped his arms around him. “I love you.” Unzipping his pants, he looked down at his own cock. Hard, his dick inched up. The mushroom head’s slit glistened with pre-cum.
“Te amo more.” Spitting in his hand, Miguel tugged at his cock, tweaking the bulbous head with his fingers and gliding his other hand up the backside. Blake caught his breath in his throat. He could’ve orgasmed right then and there.
Bringing his dry lips closer to Miguel’s for a kiss, he licked them wet and glided his tongue over his soft lower lip as his friend moaned for attention. “I love the way you touch my body.” He possessed a euphoric, intuitive level over him. With a decade-long friendship, he instinctively knew which buttons to push to make him laugh, make him cry, and nowadays, turn him on.
Gripping his chin, Miguel stared into his eyes. “If you’re going to be my boyfriend, that means I can take you whenever and however I like, sí?”
“No way.” He smirked as his cock ached for release.
“Don’t tell me no.”
“I was hoping we could talk about us being…versatile.”
“No.”
“Ha. Now look who’s saying no. If you want an equal partnership then you will let me top you.” His sexual self-confidence was in full swing.
With a snug nuzzle from his nose over to his neckline, Miguel brought his soft, warm lips down upon his while he jacked his friend’s cock. “How about I think about it? I’ll let you know my answer after you tell me we’re an item, and when you’re moving in.”
“Fine.”
“Now, I can’t let you leave with this load.” He hoisted him up against the kitchen table and asked, “Don’t you agree?”
“Yes, Mig. Release me.”
Dropping to his knees, Miguel pulled his shorts down. His dick shot straight up toward the ceiling. Getting comfortable, he spread his body out against the kitchen table. He let his mind wander with ideas about how he’d top him. Would it be theatrical like in a sling? Or more tender in his bed?
Squatting between his legs, Miguel took his cock in his mouth quickly. His head bobbed back and forth as if on a mission to make him come in a nanosecond. It was new for him, having someone care that much about his pleasure.
He brought his face up, his Mexican brown eyes seducing him. “Lay back, boy.” He grabbed his nuts and yanked them down toward the floor, causing him to slide a little and release the air caught in his throat.
Oh, my God! He pressed his weight against the table as he gave in to Miguel’s control.
Miguel’s mouth went up and down over his dick as his Latin god dominated his cock.
Over the white cotton dress shirt, Blake pinched at his own nipples. Ouch. Still sensitive from the clamps the other night.
In and out, Miguel slid his fingers into his asshole. Twisting them back in then out from his tightness. “Bebé, look at how hot you are.” His tongue traced wet circles around Blake’s cock.
Receiving compliments on his sex was new to him, but he loved hearing them. He hadn’t felt attractive and was never complimented. Often his ex-husband made him feel sexless. At times asexual. But his best friend constantly
told him how turned on he was by him. How hot and sexy he was.
“Bebé, your pre-cum tastes good. You gonna shoot for your papi chulo?”
“You want me to?” he asked, hypnotized by the request. His cock was ready to fire off.
“Sí, right now.”
He put his arms behind his neck, pushing his groin up. Letting the fire pass through his body and into Miguel’s receiving mouth.
His lover held his legs down with his arms while he worked on his cock. This man is driving me wild.
He grabbed onto his broad shoulders. Digging his fingers into his black curls, pushing Miguel’s face deeper onto his cock, he shouted, “I’m going to come!”
Miguel growled.
“Ahhh!” he screamed.
The first squirt shot down Miguel’s throat. He dropped his shoulders, allowing his head to fall against the table. With a second charge, he swallowed at high speed as the third curled on his tongue.
Decorated in pearl liquid, Miguel held his tongue out for his attention. Crawling on top, he shoved his tongue into his mouth. He tasted his own cum in the back of his throat. He kissed him deep.
Miguel confirmed, “You enjoy your own cum’s taste, don’t you, pig boy.”
“I’ll taste anything you give me.” Miguel’s cock grew harder over him. He reached down and said, “Your turn.”
“No, bebé, we have to go to the wedding. The limo is downstairs waiting for us. My load is for my ass later.” He stood and pulled him up with his usual strong force, yanking his shorts back up with one swift tug. He adjusted his massive cock to shift back over to the right.
“What do you mean?” He didn’t follow.
“You can use it as lube when you fuck me.”
“Mig…you’ll bottom for me?”
“Sí, of course.”
“Have you ever?”
“No,” Miguel said and caressed his cheek. “But for you, Blake, I’d do anything you asked of me. Just as I know you’ll be moving in, and we’ll be starting our lives together.” He kissed him. “You’re going to say yes.”
Realizing they hadn’t talked about monogamy yet, he forced a smile and headed to the hotel lobby with Miguel.
Blake held on to Miguel’s arm as they walked through the crowd at St. Patrick’s Cathedral on the corner of Fifth Avenue and Fifty-First Street. With all the many socialites, bodyguards, and photographers, he figured it would take them about an hour to get inside. The Gothic-revival church held twenty-four-hundred guests. At check-in, the paparazzi piled in, snapping photos. He spotted Taddy with Warner greeting people on the red carpet.
Leave it to the Tittoni Royal wedding to have a red carpet.
“Hi, Warner.” He greeted Taddy’s boyfriend as they came up to the queue for photos. “It’s great to see you.”
“Blake, nice haircut. Hello, Miguel. Taddy has been filling me on your week. Sounds like you guys have had quite the adventure. I’m happy for you both.” Warner’s warm, hazel gaze confirmed his sincerity.
“Maybe next time you won’t be gone from me for so long, Big Daddy,” Taddy teased, pointing her finger over his Roman nose as he wrapped his broad arms around her. “Then I won’t have to give you a status report on our friends.” Slightly lifting her off the floor, Warner kissed her.
“When will it be your turn to get married?” Miguel asked.
“Mig.” Mortified, Blake noticed the fearful shake of Taddy’s head. Maybe Miguel didn’t know she didn’t believe in matrimony.
“Soon. I’m working on it,” Warner answered. “What about you two?”
“Blake is letting me know tonight if he’s going to be moving in with me.” Miguel’s confidence dazzled.
They stepped up to the cameras. Blake put his hand on Miguel’s chest to stop him from going any further and whispered in his ear, “You realize these photos—of us holding hands—will be on the cover of the tabloids tomorrow.” The press was already having a field day with his personal life due to Diego’s arrest.
“What a great way to tell the world who I am and who I’d like to be with.” Miguel grabbed him by the jaw and demanded, “I hate this game you’re playing. Tell me right now you’re moving in with me. We can celebrate today.” He kissed him as he cupped his hands over his ass.
“Later, I promise.”
Miguel’s parents’ acceptance and their question about their relationship must’ve kicked his desire for them to live together into warp speed.
He fell forward into the public kiss. For as long as he remembered, Miguel embodied hush-hush. He’d never granted media interviews on his artwork, let alone his personal life. But there he stood frenching his friend for all the magazines, bloggers, and TV stations to see.
The flashbulbs went off. One photographer shouted, “Mr. Santana, does this mean you’re out about your sexuality?”
“Sí, I’m gay.” He smiled and kissed him on the cheek.
At the top of the stairs, Taddy and Warner waited for them both. “Jesus Mary. That kiss was flippin’ genius. You two make quite the couple.”
Waving the photographers off after the initial round of photos, he walked Miguel into the cathedral. The nave was decorated brilliantly in white roses. The sounds of instruments playing along with the sweet smell of the flowers transported all of the week’s drama far away. Lex Easton, one of his best friends for life, was getting married.
Off to the right, Miguel took him by the hand over to the St. Anthony of Padua altar. “I better go check on the groom.” He was standing up for Massimo. The guys were meeting in a different vestibule.
“I’ll see you at the altar.”
He kissed him one more time on the lips, and they said their goodbyes. With Taddy on his arm, they walked over to the private area reserved for Lex to wait with her bridal party.
“I’m proud of Miguel. Aren’t you?” he asked Taddy as they walked past another layer of additional security, finding their way to Lex. She’d roped off a dressing area near the West Fiftieth Street entrance.
“Darling, of course I am. But I’m more proud of you. You’re going to move in with him.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
She pulled him into a confessional booth tucked in the corner behind the Sacred Heart statue. The smell of frankincense tickled his nose.
They stood shoulder to shoulder. “Why did you do that?’
“Once we walk into Lex’s dressing room, the rest of the night belongs to her. No Vive, Warner, Miguel, or your fiascos. Got it?”
“Dah. You’re such a drama queen, Taddy.” He turned to leave, but she put her hands on the door.
“Why wouldn’t you want to move in with Miguel?”
“I can’t.”
“You selfish little—”
“Yes, for once I’m going to think of myself. I am not ready for another relationship. Ever since Miguel came out to his parents, he’s been up my ass, literally, to have some type of Lex and Massimo love affair. Well, I can’t do it again.”
“Darling, if you don’t grow some balls and realize Miguel is the best thing you’ll ever get and embrace him, I’ll—”
“Shut up, Taddy. You won’t do shit. You can give relationship advice when you and Warner are living as one. Or when you’ve taken your parents back into your life, but until then, mind your own business.”
“Whoa. That was a low blow.” She pouted as they stood in silence for a minute.
“Sorry. I’m on edge today. I don’t want to be here. I hate weddings, and the more Miguel sees this bridal crap, the more he’s going to be farting matrimony. God, I sound more jaded than Thor.” He hated being cynical, but it was true.
She cupped his face with her hands as her nose touched his. “What Diego did was disgusting. He’ll answer to God when it’s his time. It’s in the law’s hands now. You have to move on. Let love into your life again. You’re allowed to be scared, but don’t you dare reject Miguel. He loves you. Don’t you love him?”
“Very much so. But
love is not enough.”
“Darling, it’s one hell of a start.” She stood tall, almost hitting her head in the booth. “Now, tonight, Miguel wants an answer. So, do what I always do.”
“What’s that?”
“Dance, have fun. Get him excited and then exhausted. He’ll forget.”
“I’ll try. I need more time.” Blake found both their conversation and its setting claustrophobic.
“You wanna wait another decade to tell him?” She turned the knob.
“That could work.”
“Come on.” Taddy opened the door.
“I never thought this day would come.” Birdie clapped her jeweled hands in Lex’s direction.
“Don’t start crying again, Mom.” She turned away from the full-length mirror and faced her bridal party. Taddy and Blake leaned against the far wall, both brimming with smiles and glassy eyes. “Guys, not you, too.”
“Sorry.” Taddy blew her nose on a hanky as Jemma came in the room with Massimo’s sister, Paloma.
“My darling, you look magnifica. Better than I did at my first and third wedding, sí?” Europe’s hottest supermodel, Jemma always knew just what to say. “Massimo is going to die at the altar when he sees you.” She put her hand on Lex’s baby bump. “The both of you.”
There was a knock at the door. Birdie opened it to see Jemma’s two bi-sexual lovers Rocco and Luigi walk in.
“Ciao. We have a gift for the bride from the groom. The prince asked that you open this before the wedding.” Rocco, whose eyes should’ve stayed on his girlfriend Jemma, stared at Blake as if he’d seen his next meal of cock.
“Talk about waiting until the last minute.” Lex recognized the velvet burgundy jewelry box from Massimo’s sister’s store, Gems of Distinction. She looked over at Paloma who encouraged her to read the attached card out loud. “Principessa, this gift of brilliance will never outshine or be as flawless as you are. Forever, my perfect bride. Ti amo. Your Masi Salami.”
Everyone howled. “He’ll never change.” Birdie rolled her eyes then added, “Let’s hope they’re not more gold handcuffs.”
“My Masi.” Her heart skipped when she saw the necklace inside. White diamonds in all shapes and sizes cascaded down a short platinum chain. Each stone was accented by a pink and then a smaller, yellow diamond.