Legitimately sublime
by Gail (gem225@hotmail.com)
A Perfect Murder
Steven Taylor/David Shaw
Rating: adult
Steven meets with David to give him the rest of the money, and David decides that he just doesn't need all of it, if Steven's willing to go along with his conditions.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and I'm not making any money from this story. But I did see the movie five times and bought the letterbox version, the screenplay, the poster, and the soundtrack.
Please do not archive this story without asking me first. It's more than likely that I'll agree, but I want to know where my stories are.
Warnings and spoilers: This story is an AU, since this takes the place of a scene, and if this had happened, the movie could not have ended as it did, in my opinion. If you haven't seen the movie, you are going to find out some of the plot before this incident. And since this is one of the most twisty movies I've ever seen, I wouldn't want you to miss the ride. Make up your own mind, but I have warned you. And neither of these men is very nice, although both of them are gorgeous.
My thanks to the fabulous Mareen, who betaed the drafts and said that she liked them, and this without having seen the movie. :-)
*****
I walk in that damned rotted loft and see him. Winston Lagrange, seducer and blackmailer, or, as he'd rather be known, David Shaw, promising young artist. Time to get this over with.
"Nice to see you again, Steve," he drawls and comes over, his eyes fixed on the bag in my hand. "That my money?"
"Not until I get the tape."
I'd like to get out of there with both, but I know damned well which is the more important. That tape has my voice telling just how I've planned for a hired killer to do in my wife, something that could get me locked up, and that isn't an option. And I've definitely given up that plan. Emily's more useful to me alive. And I don't have the time to find another wife. No, she'll do just fine once I get this loser out of her life, and mine. I'll make more money. I always have. And if I play this right, I'll get what I need from her trust fund. After all, I am her husband. It's not like I'm some little fuck with a prison record.
Like the one who's smiling at me right now.
"Sure, Steve. Got your very own commemorative copy all ready." He picks it out of his shirt pocket and holds it out to me. I reach for it, but he laughs and pulls it away. "Wait a minute, Steve. Gotta hand over the money."
Greedy shit. But I knew that. I put the bag on the floor and step back. I'm still closer to it than he is, so when he steps forward to get it, I move too, ready to stop him from taking it. He's not that dumb, stops and waits.
"Now you hand me the tape."
He tosses it to me and grabs the bag in a swift motion. "Done."
I open the case with Emily's photo on it. Nice touch. Well, it is a tape. I'm just going to have to trust that it's the right one, and that Winston's going to hold to this deal. I'm certainly not going to kill him.
"One more thing, Steve."
And he's tossing me something else, glittering as it flies through the air. Emily's ring. I catch it, don't even let myself think about her taking it off so that she could feel fine about getting into David's bed. I'll put it back on, see that it stays there. I turn to go.
"Nice doing business with you." Standard line. Gives him nothing but the knowledge that this is over, that I'm through with him.
"Hey, Steve, hold on. I've got an offer you're going to want to hear."
He's got the shoe box open, the lid thrown on the floor, and he's smiling. Of course. All that lovely money. I just look at him. What is he talking about now? Emily's waiting for me, might be there by now.
"I'll give you half this money," he pauses while I wonder what kind of drugs he's on, "if you'll let me fuck you."
I give him a look of disbelief. He wants to fuck *me*. "You didn't get enough of that from Emily? Winston, you can buy whomever you want with some of that money."
My money. Money I'd hidden away for bad times, money no one knew about but me. And now this scum was throwing it around like he could just pick it up from the ground any time he wanted. Did he know how hard it was to get that much money? How hard I'd worked, planned, schemed, worried? Hell, he's never had a real job in his life that he didn't screw up. I wouldn't tip him if he brought the damn champagne to the table and opened it, then got down and sucked me off while I drank. Oh, bad image. Very bad one. I'm getting hard. The thought of David Shaw sucking me off is appealing. But that's not what he's offering. That much is clear.
"I'd rather buy you," he purrs and puts the box down by his paints, then comes over to stand in front of me.
He's cleaned himself up, doesn't smell like paint and sweat today. For me? Hard to believe, but I'm beginning to. Artists are always looking for new experiences. It's part of their live-life-to-the-fullest kick. And I'm sure that David's fucked guys before, but someone like me? Probably not.
"Come on, Steve, I know you want that money. And I've never had both in a couple before. It'll be a first."
I stare into those strange eyes and think. I want that money; he's right about that. And this whole thing has been so much insanity. I know him better than I know Emily now.
I want him more than I want Emily.
And I can have him.
I put the tape into my inside jacket pocket and reach for the knot of my tie. "You have any condoms?"
He blinks. Ah, so he didn't really think I'd take him up on that. He had doubts. I smile. He doesn't know me as well as he thinks. This isn't my first time with a man. But it has been a while. The boys at the office are off-limits, since I know they'd talk if the offer was good enough, and the poker game has gone back to being just that since we agreed to take in some new members. I haven't minded until now.
Let's see how good Winston Lagrange really is.
"Well?" I prompt him.
His eyes focus again. "Sure do, Steve. Lube, too."
"Very thoughtful of you." I start getting out of my suit as he watches. "So you do this often? Or should I be honored that I inspired this craving?" A little lightness won't hurt. We're not talking yen or the Deutschmark here.
He laughs. Good. I'd hate to think he'd lost interest. I haven't. "Once in a while, Steve. It's something to do after I've gotten the money."
I laugh to myself. Always back to the money. Oh, he and I aren't that different after all. But I'm the only one who understands that right now. I look around for somewhere better than an easel to put my jacket, but I don't see anything. I'm about to give up when he speaks.
"Over here, Steve." And I see that he's pointing to a rod with some hangers on it, over in one of the dark corners this place is full of. "Those what you need?"
"Yes. Thank you."
I walk over and hang the jacket, then finish getting out of my suit and get the pieces of it decently arranged. When I turn back to him, I'm naked. I see his eyes study my body. I'm not worried. I'm not a young man, but I've kept myself in pretty good shape. And he's the one who wanted to do this first. He made the offer.
And even after all of that, it's a relief to see him grin and reach for the button of his jeans.
He's been fucking me all along, using Emily's body first and then just my mind. This is the physical manifestation of it.
He's bare now too, reaching for me, and his hand on my hip blows all the philosophical shit out of my head. "Come on, Steve. The bed's a hell of a lot more comfortable than the floor." Despite the assurance of his words and smile, he's still looking at me like he wants me to say it's all right.
The same bed where he had Emily. Yes, that's perfect. I nod and start over there. He looks a little surprised as he follows. Did he expect me to back out now that we'd gotten this far? Ah, Winston, this isn't just about what you want any more. This is about what I want, too. Haven't you gotten that yet?
I sit on the bed and smile at him. That's what it takes to get him down. I sigh. Damn. He's looking a little nervous. All right, I'll see about fixing that. Maybe he didn't end up stretched over some guy's bunk in Soledad. He's a fighter. That might have kept him out of that food chain and in line to be getting it instead of giving it.
"Changed your mind?" I murmur and run my fingers over his chest. When I linger over the hardened nipple, he lets out a moan but just takes it. I'm not doing all the work here. Not after all the tease and come-on I got from him. "Come on, David." I don't want to piss him off by calling him that name he hates, even though it is how I think of him now. "You wanted me, and you've got me. Going to do anything about it, or shall I get dressed and leave you with just that money for company?" I take my hand away and see if that's enough to break this spell he's under.
He lets out a growl and is on top of me before I can do more than smile. Good, Winston. Do what you think you want. It'll be worth the money, I promise you. Even though I've got the feeling that you don't really think you're going to have to give me that money. Winston, you've got a lot to learn about this world. I'll give you the best I have, leave you sated, and walk out of this place with no regrets.
And even though I'd be able to take every penny, I'll only take what I've earned. You can have the rest of the cash. I still win. I'm Steven Taylor, and you'll never be anything more than Winston Lagrange, ex-con son of trailer trash, and you couldn't even get up the balls to kill for the most money you'll ever see in your miserable life. I'd kill if it meant that much money. And Emily? She'll be in my house, my bed, taking care of my life. You'll be running new cons and end up running when they blow until you can't even remember what it was like to smile at her face and kiss her until she melted under you.
And I'll still be doing that. For as long as I can keep my head above water.
His hands are all over me, rough fingertips catching and pulling skin until I only want to lie there and get more, but I remember that I'm supposed to be doing something too. Don't want him to think he isn't getting his money's worth. I work my hands up between our two chests and get a nipple in each hand. It's worth the effort to hear the groan he makes when I squeeze.
"Dammit, Steve," he's squirming over me, "you're fucking good."
Oh, yes. Enjoy it while you can.
"You must have done this before."
Of course, Winston. But that's not your business. "I didn't think you wanted me in your bed for conversation," I breathe and get my mouth on his neck for a good, long suck. I want him to have marks from me.
That stops all the talk. He jerks, his hips thrust against my crotch, and he's panting with a harshness that tells me it's time to slow down, or he's going to come right now. And that wouldn't be giving my client his money's worth.
I know about giving my clients what they want. I've been doing it for a lot longer than he'll ever know.
But this client's not going to be that hard to please. I slip my hands out and start stroking his back, trying to get his attention. His face is twisted as he keeps pumping his cock between my thighs, and he's moaning like he's never going to stop.
"David." I keep my voice low, but sharp enough to get through his fog, I hope. "You said you wanted to fuck me. You going to miss out?" I don't want to ruin his fun, but I don't want to miss out on mine, either.
His eyes open and find mine. No strange look in them now, just a look of hunger and desperate need. A look I've seen before, in my own eyes. And then he's back in those eyes, and I know I can relax. David hasn't forgotten why he decided to give up two hundred thousand dollars. Hope he never figures out that he could have had me for a hell of a lot less. But he would have had to stay away from Emily for that.
He's off the bed now. "On your back," he says harshly when I move to get on my hands and knees.
I look at him with raised eyebrows and do what he wants. Now that's a first. Taking me just like he'd take a woman, how very clever. And humiliating, if that mattered to me, but it doesn't. I chose to be here. I can take whatever David Shaw can dish out. Even though I'm beginning to feel like the tables are turning.
He's hard and ready, and the smile on his face is one of a predator's, and it's been just so damned long since I had anyone touch me...and then his fingers are stroking my balls, and I feel all the nervous tension go out of me, and all the good tension come rushing in.
Oh, that's good. That's very, very good.
"Come on, Steve."
He's got his other hand down spreading my thighs, and then he frowns and shoves a pillow, then another one under my ass until he likes the angle. I decide that he knows what he's doing and stop watching so much.
And he does know. He's not out to hurt me. He's out to have a good time. He really does want to fuck me, stroking and teasing my hole until I'm moaning, and when he eases his head in, I'm so ready that I want to push up and take all of him. But he keeps his hands on my hips to stop me, and it's worth the wait to have him slowly fill my ass. He gets all the way in and stops, leaning over to touch my cheek with one hand.
I open my eyes. "Still with me, Steve?" His smile broadens when all I can do is moan. "That's good, Steve. You don't want to miss this."
And he starts moving, starts fucking me, and he is good. I hope he got a good deal on lube, because he's used enough for a whole troop of virgins. Not that I mind. The slipperiness is great, and it has been a long time. I know I'm tight, and I think he likes that. He's making sounds of his own now, and I wonder if he made those for Emily. Bet he didn't. There's nothing like fucking a tight ass. I know about that, too.
I'm getting really close, and I know I should tell him, but before I can, he leans over again and whispers, "Go ahead, Steve." And he wraps a hand around my leaking cock, pushing me even closer. "I want to feel you come. That's how I want to get off, with you going crazy under me."
And he leans in to kiss me for the first time, his mouth knowing and playful and incredible on mine. Not many guys kiss. Not the ones I've been with.
God, no wonder Emily kept going back to his bed. This bed. He's thoughtful, knowledgeable, considerate, and gorgeous as all hell. Oh, don't forget dangerous. Add in the angle of the poor starving artist who needs a patron, and I'm surprised she hasn't already headed for Belize or some other country with a painter's sun.
Hell, I'd go right now. And on that thought, I know I'm going to come. I wrench my mouth away from his so that I can breathe as I thrust up into his hand, explode all over his fingers, and he thrusts into me even harder, letting out some really fierce, triumphant cries. And then I feel the pulsing through the condom. I made him come.
David Shaw has fucked me once again. And this time I loved it.
He pulls out and I hear him strip off the condom and the plop of it hitting what I hope is a wastebasket and not the floor. I'm just lying there, eyes closed as I try to get my breathing back under control, and I'm sure he's enjoying this part where Steven Taylor's limp on his bed. The second Taylor he's made that way.
Glad I could help, Winston. My pleasure, if you haven't already figured that one out.
I feel something land on my chest and open my eyes. A box of tissues.
"The bathroom's over there," he says without any expression in his voice and points to a door that's half open. Yes, that has to be it. "But you'd better use some of those first." A trace of a smile creeps onto his face. "Or you'll get that all over my floor."
Of course. The lube's leaking out, and he was in deep enough to jog out some shit, too. Unless there's blood. I grimace at that thought. I don't feel torn, though.
Before I can move, he yanks out a handful and presses them firmly against my hole, earning him some more points for consideration, then heads for the bathroom to get cleaned up first. Well, that's no problem with me. He put in some serious work on me.
I want a nap and a shower, but it's time to get out of here. This David Shaw won't be around forever. The one who knows how to con will be back any minute, and I've got some money to collect.
I wipe myself off with more tissues, a lot more, then pull on my clothes. I'm sure I'm not up to my usual standard, but it doesn't matter how I look. If Emily wants to know why I'm not as composed as usual, I'll just blame it on David. How unreasonable he was, how he threatened her, how he grabbed me. And how I had to fight to get away from him. My mouth twists in a grim smile. Oh, I do have to fight, fight myself. I'd love to run through that again when I have the energy, but I just don't have that luxury. I know I can't trust David Shaw, who's really and always Winston Lagrange. Next he'd be fucking me for money. And I'm afraid I just don't have enough to satisfy that hunger on either of our parts. Too bad, though. It would be fun trying.
When he gets out of the bathroom, back in that old shirt and jeans, I'm at the door. He looks surprised. He couldn't have thought I'd still be in that haze. Or maybe he did. He's used to women, who do tend to stretch everything out, especially the afterglow.
"Nice doing business with you," I say again, the Barney's bag in my hand with, yes, half the money. The other half's on the bed.
I see his eyes go over the room until he finds it. And how quickly he relaxes at the sight. That's right. Remember why you started this whole game in the first place. For the money.
I get into the elevator, reach for the metal screen. He follows, maybe to say goodbye. He gets there just before I get the screen latched. No, Winston, I wasn't planning to give you a kiss goodbye. His face is...I don't know. Confused? Uncertain? I'm pretty sure I surprised him by going all the way through with it.
I say the last thing I ever intend to say to him as the motor starts up.
"You're damned good, David."
And he smiles at me. I think I gave him his money's worth with that sentence alone. I know I'm going to be smiling most of the way home.
I got what I wanted, too. And now I'm going home to the rest of my legitimately sublime life.
Something he'll never have.
The End
Posted 8/8/00
