Chapter Two

Frank McGuire logged off his laptop when the front door of his townhome opened. He drew in a deep breath, gathered his thoughts, and glanced at his watch. Not much time to accomplish his mission, but enough to get to the bottom of Rand's recent ill-gotten behavior.

He rummaged through a nearby drawer until he found what he wanted, then walked into the kitchen and stood at the high counter opposite Rand. "Stopped home for lunch, huh?"

Rand stuffed several chunks of watermelon into his mouth, talking between bites. "One hour before my next class."

Which begs the question, "How are you doing this semester?"

"Good." Rand avoided meeting his eyes. "Why aren't you at work?"

"I'm on my way in to the office, but waited to talk to you."

"I thought you were meeting with Jeffords and some big hot dog from the FBI this morning."

"They're waiting for me, and stop changing the subject."

"What subject?"

Frank cocked his head to the side and shook it. "Listen, pretty boy, I've lived with you long enough to know when something's rotten in Denmark. Think of me as a Blue Tick coonhound sniffing out a raccoon."

"Dumb me." Rand plucked a handful of grapes from the bowl and continued with his mouth full. "I thought you were more interested in finding missing people for a living after connecting with your Inner Spirit."

"I am, and that's why I want you to have a better job, a better life." Frank plopped onto the stool. "So, how are your classes going: Anatomy, Physics, and all the courses you need for Pre-Med?"

A moment of panic flitted through Rand's deep green eyes, but his voice remained calm. "Good, I'm expecting A's and B's this quarter."

"Your expectations have fallen a tad short." Frank tossed a computer printout of his grades onto the counter.

Rand's body tensed, so imperceptibly most wouldn't have noticed, but Frank knew every nuance of that perfect body, and every inch. "C's and C minuses right down the line.” Frank held a hand in the air. “Oh, I stand corrected, a D in Chemistry."

Rand licked his bottom lip. "I can explain."

"I'm sure you have something prepared, but I'm not interested. Refresh my memory about our agreement when you came to live with me."

Rand looked away.

"I'll remind you. You promised if I agreed to let you live here, you'd pull A's and B's. You swore you’d work hard to get the education your mom has spent thousands of dollars on."

"My classes are so hard this semester and―"

"Save it, Rand. You're one of the brightest kids on the planet, and only two reasons exist for pulling C's and D's. One is laziness, the other, MJ." Frank nodded toward the liquor cabinet. "Or Jack Daniels."

Rand watched him through hooded eyes and squirmed in the chair. "I'm not smoking weed. Give me another chance. I'll buckle down, bring those grades up to A's and B's next semester."

"Oh, I have no doubt you'll bring them up, every single one. Just to make sure you know I'm dead serious, finish your lunch, drop your jeans, and head for the couch."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Why?"

"You don't need to know until you're done eating."

Rand pushed his plate away. "I seem to have lost my appetite."

"I'll give you one chance to tell me why my Jack Daniels is bottoming out all the time, and you should know," Frank added, "I've been marking the bottles."

Rand’s eyes darted left to right as if searching for an explanation.

"I'll start counting, and for every second that passes, I'll match it with a welt on your ass."

"Wait . . .."

"One, two, three . . .."

"Christ, stop counting. I'm going to tell you."

"Four, five, six. Wow, by the time we’re done, you’re going to be in pain hell."

"I stole it."

Frank rolled his eyes. "You could have knocked me over with a feather. It's a two-fold question: are you using other drugs and why did you steal my whiskey?"

"I hit the legal age limit four years ago, Frank."

"This isn't about the legal age limit and you know it!" Anger gave way to concern. "A former pot-head exchanges one vice for another as in alcohol or other drugs. Are you using?"

"No, I'm not."

"You gave your word you'd stay away from alcohol while you attended college and lived with me. We made an agreement and you broke it."

Rand's gaze carried less fear than his voice. "Everyone parties at Johns Hopkins, that's what preppies do."

"That's the oldest excuse in the book, and I don't care about others. Your mother would go ballistic if she saw your grades, and she only agreed to let you live here for two reasons. One, you wanted to, and two, you promised to quit the drugs and get a degree in medicine."

Rand fell mute and chewed on the inside of his cheek. He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful kid Frank ever laid eyes on. Frank had to remind himself to rein in his lust right now. An impossible undertaking no matter how hard he tried. Rand wasn't a kid, but Frank had known him since he rode a bike to get around. The lines blurred at times, wandering between an overwhelming desire to fuck him senseless one minute and protect him from everything in the world the next.

A stream of sunlight fell through the kitchen window, capturing Rand's shiny black hair and sculpted features. Need and hot desire rushed through Frank's veins, replaced moments later by a bleak image of Rand floating listlessly in the water, his long, dark hair fanned out around him. Damn the dreams and visions he’d been plagued with lately.

"Rand, five young men have died now, college students, after a night of binge drinking at a bar."

"Oh, get off it. You know they didn't die from drinking."

"No, they drowned after walking into the river during a drunken stupor."

Rand shook his head. "It's incredible you believe that—you, a man who dabbles in perceptions and has the ability to connect with his Inner Spirit. Have you consulted it, Frank, huh?"

"Yes, damn it, I have, and we're not going to talk about that now. All I know is five young men are dead. You took my whiskey and broke promises to your mother and me." He reached across the counter and grabbed the collar of his shirt. "Are you going to drop your jeans or should I rip them off you?"

His moss-green eyes sparked, yet his voice trembled. Frank wondered at times if Rand feared him. He knew he loved him, but he didn't want Rand to be afraid of him. It was a double-edged sword and another fucking complication in Frank's life. He cringed at the word love, tried to convince his mind that what he felt for Rand fell under the category of hot, primal lust. Truthfully, at times those indelible boundaries blurred, meshed until Frank thought he'd die if Rand left his life.

"Jesus, you're serious?"

Frank nodded. “Never more.”

He glanced to Frank’s belt. "Can I leave my boxers on?"

"I'm not going to use the belt on your ass if that's what you're wondering, and no, you can't. Ditch everything from the waist down."

"But, if you're not going to use the belt, why do I have―?"

Frank shifted his hand from the collar of his shirt to his thick hair. "Do you have me confused with someone who doles out explanations like lollipops? Drop the jeans and boxers and get on your knees before the couch."

Rand unzipped his denims, slid them down his hips, and next, off came the boxers.

"Step out of them and be quick about it." Frank pointed to the couch. "I'm late for work."

Visibly trembling, Rand kicked his jeans away and walked toward the sofa. Frank followed Rand and plopped onto the cushions in front of him. "Lift your shirt, let me see if you're turned on." The tip of Rand's hard cock glistened like a ripe, purple plum. Frank didn't know what he wanted to do more, suck him off until he whimpered and begged, or turn his ass red. "Good boy, now come here." He tapped the paddle he'd pulled out from under the cushion.

"You said you weren't going to spank me."

"No, I said I wouldn’t use my belt, but I am going to give you the spanking of your life. There's a difference, and if I have to ask again, I will use the belt."

When Rand dropped onto the sofa, Frank pulled him onto his lap and pushed his face into the cushions. Holding Rand's upper body down with a strong arm, he ran his fingers down the length of Rand's spine, his touch light and meant to heighten the tension. Rand's body trembled. Frank spread Rand's cheeks and found his hole with his finger, circling the outer rim gently.

Rand emitted a soft moan. "What-what are you doing? Oh, God."

"Getting that puckered hole ready for the ass plug."

Frank slid his thumb in and applied pressure up and down, left and right, stretching it amid Rand's cries of bliss. Without uttering a word, Frank picked the anal plug from his pocket and brought it up to where his fingers worked their magic. With expert skill, he positioned the plug next to his index finger and, after removing his finger, slipped in the toy. Rand jerked forward and upward.

He panted between breaths. "Oh, God.”

Frank twisted the plug and moved it in and out, his movements tortuous as he held Rand down across his thighs. "Feel that?” Frank pushed hard on the plug. “It's all the way in now."

Rand buried his face in the cushion and a low groan escaped from his mouth.

"Consider it fair warning. The spanking is coming hard and fast so you remember, know I’m done fucking around with you and your excuses.”

Quivering with expectancy, Rand's body tensed. When Frank brought the paddle down, Rand writhed beneath him and buried his pelvic bones into Frank's lap. Frank whacked him three times and waited, allowing him time to absorb the pain. Rand whimpered when Frank ran his hands across the raised welts. "Think about that plug up your ass while I spank you."

Rand tensed his butt cheeks again.

Frank's cock swelled and pulsated in the same fashion it always did when he looked at Rand's ass. The kid had the most amazing bottom he'd ever seen in his life. Taut, smooth, and firm, a dimple resided in the hollow of his back where spine ended and cheeks began. Seized by a momentum to turn it crimson and hear Rand moan, he launched into a serious spanking, the paddle moving rapidly over every part of his bottom. It turned pink before morphing in hue to pale red. Rand gyrated in his lap and cried out. Before long, groans escaped his lips and his pelvis rocked in sync with the measured strokes.

Frank stopped briefly and slipped his hand between Rand's hips and his knees, not the least bit surprised to feel his rock-hard erection. "You get off when I beat your ass, don't you, Rand?"

He shook his head.

"Yes, you do, you lying little prick. You're so hot and hard, you're ready to burst. You want to come, pretty boy? Want to spill your seed while I spank you?"

"God, I'll bring my grades up, I promise."

Frank dug his elbow into his back. "I asked you a question, and you better tell me the truth. I'm giving you an opportunity to jerk yourself off while I turn your ass red. Do you want to do that?"

He nodded on a frustrated groan.

Frank handed him a handkerchief. "Come into this, and don't spill a drop on my couch. You hear me?"

Rand nodded, took the hankie from him, and lifted his hips to wrap the fabric around the tip of his cock. Frank slapped the back of his thighs hard, mesmerized by the red welts the paddle left on his pale skin. When he moved on to Rand's flaming ass cheeks and brought the paddle down swift and hard, Rand's body jerked upward. He set upon him savagely, until he whimpered and groaned. Still Frank didn't stop. He knew he should, but every time he thought about the whiskey, the lies, and dead men now resting with the fish, he brought it down again.

"You love the pain and pleasure all rolled into one, don't you, Rand?"

"Oh, God, yes, yes."

Rand lifted his ass, his hand pumping hard on the cock beneath his gyrating bottom. Strangled moans and groans came from the back of his throat.

"Oh, God, it's coming, I'm going to come, don't stop. Spank me hard, Frank, don't stop. I'm coming, oh Christ, here it comes."

Rand's body stiffened and cries of pleasure echoed in the room. He bucked his hips up and down, and pitched his body forward. At the last second, Frank cupped Rand's penis in his hand and felt his release. On and on it went, hot and wet exploding into the hankie. The jerks stopped for a brief moment and then the spurts came again in an endless stream of hot semen. Frank milked Rand's cock through the last throes of ejaculation. Rand's ass, high in the air, quivered like jelly. A series of rapturous moans escaped his lips before he collapsed against Frank's lap.

"Better than you ever imagined, huh, pretty boy? I think you make it your mission to piss me off so I punish you."

Rand rasped the word between ragged breaths. "You're a cold-hearted bastard."

"You still hiding in that closet?"

"Fuck you. Anyone's body would respond to―"

Frank couldn't help the mockery in his laugh. "You came so hard just now, you almost passed out."

"Let go of me. I gotta get back to class."

"One more thing before I let you up. I'm not a babysitter. You want to fuck up in school, go ahead, but you'll be back living with your mother quicker than flies mate." He rubbed his hand over his ass. "And maybe I'll start looking for a more honest, mature roommate."

"Go ahead, McGuire." Rand’s tone held mockery and sarcasm. "Remember, though, all the good-looking queers sit by me in school. I’ll put in a good word for you, though, tell them what a black-hearted asshole you are . . . after I convince them to give me a try."

Frank grabbed him by his shirt collar and yanked him upward. "Are you threatening me, pretty boy? You've had a taste of your first man and now you want to know if there's someone better out there?"

"No!" Despite his raised voice, it quivered like candle flame. "You just piss me off sometimes."

"Good." Frank released him. "That makes us even."

When Frank scooted out from under him, Rand scrambled from the couch, scurried to his boxers and jeans on the floor, and pulled them over his hips. He picked up his backpack and headed for the front door, stopping at the sound of Frank's voice. "I'll be late tonight since I had to stay home this morning and reform an errant school boy.”

Rand jerked around, his eyes dark and hot. "You're not my father or my fucking keeper!"

"No," he said, "I'm not, and I'll make sure you know that when I get home tonight. If you know what's good for you, you'll be here at seven o'clock, naked and in my bed."

Rand didn't respond, but rather left the townhome in a huff, slamming the door behind him.