"I'm really sorry about this, Cris. Emmy's movie schedule just got moved up and this is the only time to do the studio recording for the new album."Cristano Asgeir leaned against the doorway of Cromwell's bedroom - sadness and resignation written over his face. "Yeah, I know. But I'm still bummed about it."
"Look - it's only two weeks. I'll be back before you know it. After all, you're going to be really busy with training and speed trials." The singer paused in his packing. "Cris, come over here." He held out his arms.
The young man stepped into the embrace and held him tightly. "Jeez, I love it when you hold me like this. I'm gonna miss you. Do you realize this is the first time we've been apart except for a couple of quick kills Lucio had me on?"
Bobby stroked Asgeir's long, auburn hair. Running his hands through it was like touching the finest silk. The young man always had the faint scent of vanilla and fresh-baked cookies about him. Because of the elixir, both appeared to be in their early twenties, but Bobby sometimes forgot how young his lover was and with that, concerns and insecurities that vanish only with time and maturity.
Cristano had clear grey eyes and a fine-boned face. Had it been any more delicate, he would have been considered pretty rather than handsome. His countenance, however stood in stark contrast with his lean, heavily muscled physique - the sculptured torso, the powerful arms and defined legs were all hallmarks of the grueling physical badge of achievement shared by all Giambi's soldieri. At twenty-two, Cristano was the youngest of all Lucio's silent assassins. He skill with a stiletto was only exceeded by the incredible talent he possessed in stalking his victims.
Asgeir was an Olympic slider and bobsledder. At one time, he was a top member of the US teams, but leaked news of his employment with Lucio Giambi had poisoned his chances. He was summarily dropped from the roster with no reason given. Humiliated, angry and despondent, he had poured out his heart to the young crime lord. Lucio had grown furious at the way Asgeir had been treated and promised him to rectify the situation. Since his father had emigrated from Norway, a call to Anton Zutrov had provided him with an entree to the chairman of the Norwegian Olympic Commission. Within the span of a few hours, Cristano was a member of that country's delegation. Lucio provided significant financial backing to Norway's team and Asgeir had won the Gold in single luge, Silver in two-man luge and Bronze in the two-man bobsled. The US walked away empty-handed.The young man had returned to Lillehammer to train for the upcoming Winter Olympics and to qualify for Norway's luge and bobsled teams again. The US delegation had begged him to participate, but he had angrily replied if he had not been good enough for them four years ago, they were not good enough for him now.
The young assassin looked up at him. "Bobby, d'you think Xiphon is still mad at me?"
"Mad at you? Why?"
"Well, I did pull a gun on him twice and nearly shot him dead the second time. That could make anyone pissed off ... and he's got a real temper ..."
Cromwell chuckled and continued to massage his bodyguard's back. The other man snuggled into him. "Of course not! But I'll talk to him anyway." He stroked the other man's face and gave him a soft kiss. "Feeling better?"
"Mmmmmm...." Asgeir smiled. "I'm still gonna miss you though."
* * *
"And where do you think you're going, fos tis psihis mou?" (light of my soul - ed.) Xiphon looked at him with half-lidded eyes. The former Minoan prince lay sprawled naked on the bed, the light from the shutters casting a variegated shadow across his powerful form. Cromwell found himself growing immediately hard with desire."Back to Los Angeles. Emmy's got scheduling problems with the upcoming movie and the new album."
Xiphon raised himself on an elbow and cocked an eyebrow. "I gather that the babe is not taking your departure well?"
Bobby sighed and sat down on the bed. "No, he was upset. He still is. He may be young, Xiphon, but he's certainly not a 'babe'. Are you angry at him for some reason? Don't tell me you're still jealous, are you?"
Cromwell caressed the ridges along the muscled back. Xiphon moaned and stretched like a large, contented cat.
The prince chuckled. "Angry? Of course not! I merely jest. I dislike the thought of sharing you with anyone, but Cristano is the exception to that rule. I know what he means to you. And he is a striking man. What I would do to run my hands through that shining hair ..."
Bobby continued the gentle stroking of his lover, making intricate designs with his fingers across the shoulder blades, down the center and into the small of his back. Xiphon shivered under the delicate onslaught.
"Do me a favor?"
"Anything, my love. You have only but ask."
Xiphon ran his lips across Cromwell's hand. At this point, Bobby found himself ready to explode. It was amazing how the most insignificant of touches from the Minoan could inflame him to such passion.
The former vampire grinned. "I shall do my best to show him how much he is truly appreciated."
Bobby looked hard at him, his blue-violet gaze narrowing in suspicion. "You've got an evil glint in your eyes, love ... what wicked thoughts are running through that devious mind of yours?"
Xiphon gave a low chuckle and snaked his hand down past the waistband of Cromwell's jeans. He gave the engorged package a gentle squeeze. "Beloved, surely you cannot even think of boarding a plane in such a state?"
The singer moaned. "Oh, dammit - the flight's in less than an hour!" He pulled the sweater off over his head.
The prince drew him down onto the bed next to him and gave him a deep kiss. "Then I must best use this time to ravish you quickly!"
* * *
In Olympic luge, the slider (usually not called a "luger") lies down on a fiberglass sled, with no braking system, and heads feet-first down an icy track.
There are actually two types of luge: natural track and artificial track.
In natural-track luge (naturbahn), the track is made of packed snow and ice. The slope on a natural luge track is no greater than 1.5 percent (about 1 degree), meaning that for every 100 feet of track, the maximum elevation change is 1.5 feet. Speeds can reach up to 50 mph (80 kph). Anyone can make a natural luge track if he has enough snow to work with.
In artificial-track luge (kunstbahn), the track is steeper and has high-banked turns, with an average slope of 8 to 11 percent (about 5 to 6 degrees). Speeds on an artificial track can reach 90 mph (140 kph) .
Olympic luge is kunstbahn, and it's not for the meek. The types of artificial luge tracks used in the Olympics are tremendous structures that embody a lot of technology. There are fewer than two dozen artificial luge tracks in the world.
An Olympic track is artificially refrigerated. The bobsled/luge course used in the 2002 Salt Lake City Games was a reinforced concrete track with evaporators buried in the concrete. The evaporators cooled the track to 12 degrees F (-11 C). The track was then sprayed with water to create the approximate 2-inch surface of ice.
A typical luge course is less than 1 mile (1.6 km) long and drops about 300 to 400 feet (90-120 m) in the course of a one-minute run. The configuration includes straightaways, left and right turns, downhills (and sometimes a short uphill) and at least one S-type curve combination like the "labyrinth," which consists of three or four consecutive turns with no straightaways between them. Reaching speeds up to 90 mph (140 kph) on the track, just staying on the sled would be a feat for a highly trained athlete. But sliders don't just have to stay on the sled -- they also need to maintain a strictly aerodynamic form, watch where they're going and try to keep the sled in the "sweet spot" that will carry them smoothly between turns, all while facing up to 5 g's on particularly strenuous courses.
For all the complexity of navigating a luge course, the equipment involved is limited. There's a sled, a racing suit, gloves, boots and a helmet. Every piece of equipment in luge is designed for utmost aerodynamics, minimal friction and top speed.
* * *
Cristano's bobsled spikes crunched over the icy ground. He carried his helmet and luge booties slung over his shoulder and wore a pair of blue mirrored sunglasses as he made his way to the track. He was deep in thought regarding the course ahead of him and what strategies he would employ to make the best time possible.
"Hey, Cris!"
"Hallo, kjekk!"Cristano turned towards the familiar voices and was given crushing hugs by the two bobsledders. They wore the same skintight suits as himself and 100-watt smiles creased their faces.
"Didrick! Sverre! How are you guys doing?"
Didrick Jenssen wrapped an arm around the young man.
"How's my handsome American gangster, huh?" he whispered in his ear.
Didrick gave him a delicate kiss and trailed his lips along the square jaw, a kiss that lasted longer than necessary and spoke volumes of the relationship between them. The bobsledder had white-blonde hair and deep blue eyes. They twinkled like sunlight on a glacier.
"Mmmmm ... I see you've bulked up a bit in four years." Sverre Nordhagen grinned. The other bobsledder was about 5'11", dark-haired and with deep green eyes the color of ancient forests. He ran a gentle hand down Cristano's back and over his muscled flanks.
"No weight belt this time?"
Asgeir laughed. "Maybe 5 or 7 kilos. You guys haven't changed a bit! Did you have a run yet?"
Sverre nodded. "We're about to do our second. What about you?"
"Einar's ahead of me. How's the track?"
"Nice ... they've added some new hairpin turns - you're going to love it." Didrick's hand crept slowly down the front of Asgeir's suit and rested a moment on the crotch. His gloved hand traced the hard eight inches through the suit's rubberized fabric and gave it a delicate masssage.
"If you're not busy tonight, let's catch up, okay?"
"Sure!"
The loudspeaker announced the duo's next run. Sverre pulled the young man closer to him. He kneaded the muscular butt beneath the yellow luge suit and gave him a deep kiss. Their crotches ground together."Until later, kjekk ..."
* * *
Cristano sat on his sled at the opening gate. He moved back and forth in a gentle rhythm to keep his muscles warmed and limber. God, he loved this sport. The adrenaline rush speeding down through the icy course was incredible. Sometimes, he admitted privately to himself, even more exciting than the tracking down and eliminating targets for Lucio. His thoughts turned to Cromwell and to Xiphon - almost at once, he could feel the disembodied presence of the Minoan prince. A spectral hand stroked his face inside the helmet and a pair of ghostly lips pressed gently against his.
"Fly like the wind, little one ... and be safe ..."
Cristano shook himself out of his apparent daydream. The horn sounded and Asgeir used his spiked gloves to build up speed and then lay down on the sled. All he could see was the yellow of his suit speeding past the icy blue sides of the track. All he could hear was the low hiss of the steel blades cutting through the ice and the wind whipping past his helmet.
Around curves - left and right; right and left; past straightaways; through the labyrinth. He could feel the g-forces around him; attempting to wrest control of the sled and smash him against the frigid barriers. He strained and fought them down. Before he knew it, he was past the exit gate and decelerating. He stopped and sat up.Didrick and Sverre were past the end of the track to meet him. Both couldn't wait to embrace their teammate.
"Cris, that was incredible! Look at the board!"
Asgeir looked at his results. The clocked speed was blinking "89.9"
"Oh my fucking God ... I beat Benshoof's record ..."
Sverre grabbed Cristano's head in both hands and gave him a deep, lingering kiss. His gloved hands ran sensuously down the other's arms and came to rest on Asgeir's muscled ass.
"Unofficially, min kjæreste ... you need to do that again at the Veissman or the Euro Cup ..." The faint accent in his English was always intoxicating. He nuzzled the assassin's neck as his hands moved up to the other's waist. "Mmmmm ... you taste like my mama's fattigmandbakkelse ..."
The assassin returned the fondling and found himself becoming quickly rigid with desire. He pulled the big Norwegian closer to him and began a series of small kisses around the edge of Nordhagen's jaw. Sverre murmured something as he nuzzled Cristano's neck.
"Hey Cris ... who's that guy coming towards us?"
Asgeir looked over to see Xiphon approaching them. He wore a black and silver down jacket over a pair of snug blue-white jeans. Tinted sunglasses covered his eyes and the light breeze ruffled his raven hair. He was carrying Cristano's jacket and spikes; a broad smile creased his incredibly handsome face.
"That's my boss's lover ..."
Didrick gave him a quizzical look. "I thought you and Bobby ..."
Cristano sighed. "We are ... but there's also Xiphon. He and Bobby are together too... it's ... it's complicated ..."
At that moment, the former vampire reached the group. He removed his glasses to show deep golden-brown eyes. "I take it that the flashing numbers are a good indicator?"
"I just broke the world speed record!"
"Congratulations, agapoula mou - I had no doubts of your skill or your command of the track!" His voice wrapped around Cristano like satin and he gathered the slider into his arms in an embrace of unadulterated joy. Asgeir trembled in the Minoan's embrace as a wave of white-hot pleasure swept through him.
"Put this on Cris, you are shivering." Xiphon held out the jacket to him and helped him into it. He turned to the bobsledders and gave them a wry grin. "I see that you know Cris quite well... biblically?" in flawless Norwegian.
The two looked surprised and a faint blush colored Didrick's cheeks. Asgeir cleared his throat. "Xiphon, these are my best buddies Didrick Jenssen and Sverre Nordhagen. They were the first guys I met when I joined the team four years ago. They're also one of the best two-man bobsled teams in the world."
"If all of them are this striking, little one, I see why you love this sport so. The Vikings were always so wickedly handsome ..." The prince's voice was a quicksilver chuckle in his head. He hadn't been daydreaming - the former vampire could speak to him mind-to-mind! He glanced at Xiphon, who gave him a grin and quick wink.
"A pleasure to meet you. Xiphon Vykrolakis - at your service. May I offer you a ride back up to the top of the run? My Range Rover is only about 20 meters away..."
* * *
After several additional runs down the track, some time in the weight room, a hot shower and a relaxing massage, the day ended for the athletes. Cristano continued meet or exceed the speed record previously set and he became more and more confident of breaking the record at an official event.With a start, they realized the lateness of the hour and the trio found themselves alone in the locker room, their bodies glistening with massage oil. As they looked at each other, the situation fanned the embers of their passion into a raging, uncontrollable inferno. Meeting later tonight would be too little too late. Asgeir let the towel slip from his slim hips to display his shaft turgid with lust. He ran long fingers down between the hard pectorals of the icy-blonde bobsledder.
"You are more stunning than I remember, Didi." There was a huskiness in the voice of the slider. He gave Jennsen a wicked grin.
Didrick stiffened, drew completely still as Cristano leaned close, bringing his lips into intimate contact with an ear. "Tell me," he murmured, sending shivers across the other's skin, "have you missed me?"
His tongue flicked the sensitive arch. The bobsledder gasped. More moist heat as lips and tongue followed the delicate curve. The slider's attitude was far more confident than he remembered. And far, far more experienced. Could this be the same shy youngster he met four years ago?
Jennsen bit his lip, stifling a groan as Asgeir's mouth drifted lightly down the length of his neck. Soft lips brushed his skin in the barest of butterfly strokes. Each whispery contact sent tendrils of desire unwinding throughout Didrick's body.
Jennsen lifted a hand to ease the slider away and give himself a moment to collect his thoughts. He was usually the aggressor with the younger American. Instead, he found himself clutching helplessly at oil-slick skin as Cristano's firm lips latched onto the sensitive junction at neck and shoulder. When the assassin's tongue laved hotly across his collarbone, Didrick thought his knees would give way.
"Tell me you want this ..."
"I--"
"Tell me, min skatt ..." ("my treasure" - ed.) When Cristano's hand slid to the bulge between the bobsledder's legs, Didrick's' breath left him. Coherent thought fled. Asgeir stroked him firmly through the towel, measuring the other's growing length with his fingers. Jennsen pressed himself into the touch, unable to help himself as lust surged through his body. He moaned deeply, his entire body trembling with unspent desire.
"That's it," the assassin urged softly, "show me." Didrick loosened the towel and threw it onto a bench.
Jennsen's head fell back, his eyes rolling blindly. His hips rocked forward of their own accord as Asgeir's lips fell upon his neck and the clean edge of his teeth nipped skin. The bobsledder heard someone growling, and wondered briefly if it was himself.
He had swelled to bursting. Cristano's hand was gentle; its silky surface tugged and squeezed Didrick's sensitive flesh with bittersweet pain. Tight, demanding strokes pulled him onto his toes; they were enough to send Jennsen over the edge. He moaned, Asgeir quickly sealing his mouth over the other's to catch the sound. Hot liquid spilled over the slider's hand and trickled down Didrick's thighs.
His heavy-lidded eyes watched absently as Cristano drew his palm to his mouth and licked. Jennsen shuddered at the intimacy of the act.
"I knew it," Asgeir said, almost to himself. He smiled around the unmistakable shock at his lasciviousness. "You taste of apple cake."
The faint tremor in his voice drew Didrick's eyes downward. The slider's bold arousal was unmistakable. He grasped the bobsledder's waist and gently pushed him down onto a bench. Cristano rummaged into his gear bag and extracted a bottle of lube. He poured a generous amount onto his rigid shaft and spread an equally generous measure onto and into Jennsen's inviting pucker. He grasped Didrick's ankles and placed them onto his powerful shoulders. The slider began to stroke and caress the muscled calves and quads -- Jennsen whimpered in ecstasy.
Cris placed the tip of his engorged glans at the entrance of the man beneath him. Slowly, he pushed into the inviting hole and stopped when his shaft was fully buried inside. He leaned forward and began to kiss Didrick's chest. Jennsen's hands rose up and danced along the back of Asgeir's neck and head.
"Herregud ..." he breathed.
Cristano began to slowly pull out of the bobsledder, only to push back in - all the while the slider's lips played along the hard nips and heaving six-pack abs; each kiss made its own explosion of heat and desire. The deep rhythm was stoking the two men into a frenzy of passion.
Cristano felt a pair of hands rest on his shoulders and soft lips begin kissing along the bunching muscles. Sverre.
"Are you ready for me, kjekk?" he whispered into the assassin's ear.
Asgeir answered by widening his stance. He heard the dark-haired Norwegian chuckle behind him and felt the delicate tip of a tongue swipe his earlobe. Cris shivered as gentle hands traveled up and down his oiled flanks. Soon after, the slider felt the coolness of the lube and then the thick shaft of Nordhagen brutally penetrating him.
The trio established a languorous but intense rhythm between them; Jenssen on his back twisting beneath the ministrations of Asgeir and Nordhagen filling the young slider with his massive tool. Cristano felt Sverre's manhood swell and then the rushing warmth of the other's seed deep within him. Shortly afterward, he too erupted within the moaning bobsledder.
Spent, the three held each other for a while, bodies pressed against each other, kissing and reveling in the shared intimacy of the moment.
* * *
Lucio's cell buzzed. He looked at the incoming call and grimaced. "Oh, shit ..." He opened the phone.
"Good morning, tovarisch!"
"Hello, Anton. How are you? How's everything going?"
Zutrov gave a theatrical sigh. "Things could be better, my friend... sometimes business can be so complicated..."
"What's wrong?"
"I'm trying to expand my operations in Scandinavia, but there are some... impediments."
"Oh?"
"Da. Specifically one of the local Von Essen lieutenants..."
Shaun entered the room with a sheaf of papers. He looked quizzically at the mob boss, who rolled his eyes and mouthed the word "Zutrov". His assistant gave a rueful grin and pantomimed being hung by a noose. Roberts' brows creased momentarily in concentration and gestured he would be right back.
"Is there anything I can do to help, Anton?"
"Well, now that you mention it... yes. I can't be seen eliminating one of Friedrich's men directly... could you make sure he doesn't cause me any more trouble?"
Shaun reentered the office and put a piece of paper on Lucio's desk. On it was a phone number and the notation "+9"
"Let's hear some specifics... where is this person located, Anton?"
"Trondheim. In Norway."
Lucio continued speaking with the Russian mobster, gathering data about the target. Zutrov agreed to send him further information after Lucio promised to eliminate the other gangster. He finally ended the call. He sighed as he looked at Shaun.
"I knew it, I knew it... as soon as I heard the "tovarisch", I knew he wanted something... he's such a goddamn pain in the ass sometimes..." he muttered.
He looked at the piece of paper. "What's this?"
"Cristano's phone number in Lillehammer. He's nine hours ahead of us. The target's about an hour's drive from him."
Lucio chuckled. "You know, Shaun - you never fail to amaze me..."
The other man grinned. "I try, boss. I try..."
* * *
Cristano had received the phone call from Lucio and was busily reviewing the information on his laptop about the job he was tasked to complete. He was in the suite of rooms belonging to Xiphon and Bobby. The slider had pulled out a large backpack from the closet and its bulk leaned against one of the bedroom walls.Asgeir stood up and stretched. He closed the laptop and threw the backpack onto the bed. Xiphon was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed and a serious look on his face.
"Until I saw you on the track, I didn't know how capable you truly are in all your endeavors ..."
Xiphon, Cristano decided, could sear a person into ash with just his gaze. The slider came to that conclusion as he unpacked the equipment he would need for the kill. Though the alpine rays shone strongly through the windows, its brilliance was no match for the steely regard that traced the young man's profile. It felt as though the heat of a thousand suns burned across his cheekbones.
"Cris, I have been indifferent to you, if not even callous in my regard to your feelings and needs. For that, I ask your forgiveness. I have been an incredibly stupid and jealous fool."
Asgeir stopped and stared - slackjawed - at the Minoan prince, shock written across his delicate features.
"That's okay, Xiphon. I don't know how I would have reacted looking for someone for over four thousand years, finally hitting the jackpot, and then thinking I missed the boat, either."
The former vampire smiled. "Thank you, little one. Is there anything I may do to help you?"
Cristano had continued to remove items from the large backpack: rope, carabiners, thin black leather gloves, several stillettos, a web belt and a form-fitting camouflage suit. He packed most of the items into a smaller bag and began to strip off his jeans and sweater to don the other clothing.
"You feel like taking a little trip? I have a job to do in Trondheim."
* * *
Otto Von Essen was tired. It had been another long and aggravating day for the criminal in charge of his family's interests in southern Norway. Having to deal with wolves like Anton Zutrov was enervating to say the least, and having to shore up all of the businesses against Russian incursions was putting a strain both on him and his soldiers. He took in the view of Trondheim from his third-floor balcony and inhaled deeply the sweet night air.Perhaps tomorrow will be better ... he thought to himself.
* * *
Xiphon and Cristano sat in the car and watched the lights in the apartment go out. The slider looked at his watch.
"Let's give him half an hour to go to sleep - then I'll go up."
"How?"
"There are enough handholds to scale the building from the outside. I'll cut through the balcony doors and slit his throat. Then I'll rappel back down."
Xiphon nodded appreciatively. "I did something similar for the Latinis of Florence. I had to scale a small palazzo and dispatch a rather troublesome Ghibelline in its north tower."
"When was that?"
"1264."
Cristano chuckled. "I keep forgetting how old you are... umm, were... you know what I mean."
"Indeed..." Xiphon smiled as he brushed auburn hair back from Asgeir's forehead. The touch sent a tingling warmth throughout the body of the young assassin. Cristano was unsettled by the effect the other's touch had upon him. He pulled a balaclava over his head, leaving only his eyes exposed and opened the car door.
"Wish me luck..." as he sprinted over to the side of the building.
* * *
Cris scaled the building with ease and swung himself quietly over the railing. Asgeir attached the rope to the edge of the balcony and let it unwind below. He removed the suction cup and glass cutter from the knapsack to gain access to the balcony's door mechanism.
Wait a moment... let me try something for you. Place your hand over the lock. The Minoan whispered into his mind.
The slider put his gloved hand over the lock and felt a ghostly hand settle over his own. By it's own accord, the lock slowly and quietly turned to the open position.
"Thanks, Xiphon." Cris whispered. He felt a spectral kiss on the back of his neck. He eased the door open and stepped stealthily into the apartment, quickly locating the sleeping mobster. The assassin removed a razor sharp stiletto from a sheath on his belt and quickly drew it across the man's throat. He jumped back as a geyser of blood burst from the severed artery. The man gurgled once and lay still. Cris moved quickly out of the apartment and back onto the balcony. He wrapped the rope around his waist and around one thigh and quickly rappelled down the side of the building.
He touched ground and attached a small box to the end of the rope. At the press of a button, a faint electrical current traveled up the line - the carabiner popped open and the cord tumbled down. Cris gathered up the rope and raced to the waiting car. As soon as he shut the door, Xiphon started the engine and pulled out.
Cris removed the balaclava and gave the prince a quick kiss. "Thanks for working that lock - it was amazing! How did you do that?"
The Minoan flashed a quick smile at him. "I did not lose all my abilities when I became mortal again..."
* * *
Cristano returned to the suite and replaced the implements of death into their proper hiding place. It had been a long day - both with training and with the killing - and he was spent. He embraced Xiphon and wished him a good night. He was truly looking forwards to a relaxing hot shower and bed.
Asgeir returned to his own room and stripped naked. He entered the large shower and adjusted the water to a deliciously warm temperature; he stretched contentedly in the steamy water sluicing over him.
What calm he felt was immediately dashed as he felt a body come up behind him. Automatic reflexes kicked in. He turned, raising his hand to either strike or shove, only to have his wrist deftly caught, twisted, and yanked behind him. Biting back a cry of alarm, Cristano found himself jerked backwards against a hot, powerfully muscled chest."I did not know you like to play so rough, little one."
Xiphon. Asgeir stopped struggling, acutely conscious of his nudity. His buttocks brushed against something hot and firm. He jerked forward, blushing fiercely. The Minoan laughed.
"C'mon, Xiphon - let me go." He surreptitiously slid his feet apart, looking for the leverage to throw the larger man.
A foot kicked his legs beyond balance. "Don't even attempt it," the prince warned against his ear. The foot that had spread the younger man lifted, until the Minoan's knee brushed the underside of twin globes. Cristano tried to twist out of reach, but his wide-spread feet could not find purchase on the slippery shower floor. He bit his tongue as the knee between his legs brushed slowly back and forth, teasing tiny shivers from him.
Xiphon's tongue slid along the slider's smooth jawline. "You are a fascinating man, Cris. Athlete. Lover. Killer. I want you." He nipped, sharp enough to sting. "Do you not feel the same of me?"
"I don't want to play this game," Cristano bit out.
"This is no game." the former vampire assured him. The prince's free hand slid around the younger man's chest, splaying against the muscles covering his ribcage.
Asgeir held his breath as fingers trailed up to one peaked nipple.
"Don't."
Fingers pinched, drawing a soft cry. "I need you, little one."
Cristano felt his cock grow ever stiffer as Xiphon moved to the other nipple and twisted. He shook his head wildly. "Please, please, Xiphon - I can't. I can't do this ..."
"Can you not?" Xiphon's voice deepened, adopted a feral, husky tone. "Do you not realize that everything about you drives me to madness? From eyes that flash like a storm-tossed sea to hair ..." He tightened his grip on Asgeir's wrist, pulling the powerful body taut as his free hand roamed the slick expanse of chest and stomach. " ... of such softness and color? Such beauty leaves me aching." He kissed the nape of his neck.
A helpless groan broke from the slider's throat as caressing fingers danced lightly down his body. Never had he felt so vulnerable as the fingers paused to trace a ring of torment around the base of his erection. Losing control, he swiveled his hips, seeking greater contact. But the prince would not be swayed so easily. His hand came to rest upon Cristano's thigh, the tip of his thumb dragging slowly across the side of the pulsing cock.
"Tell me what you want, little one."
Asgeir released a frustrated whimper. "Please --"
"Tell me what you want or you shall not get it."
The thought was too painful to bear. "I want you!" Cristano cried out at last. "Xiphon, I want you..."
The Minoan sighed and kissed the younger man's exposed throat. "Ahhhh, zouzouni mou. That is what I wanted to hear."
He took hold of Cristano's chin and turned him to his kiss. The assassin welcomed the invasion of Xiphon's tongue. The wet heat filled him, warmed him. The Minoan's consuming kiss was like a prize won after much hardship. The prince let his lips drift softly over cheek and chin. Cris' eyes drifted out of focus as the other man moved down, sweeping the length of his throat with wetness.His breath fanned into an exclamation of rapture, protests forgotten, as Xiphon's finger slid smoothly into him. "Relax," he soothed. His blunt fingertip stroked Cristano from the inside, rubbing in slow circles over the heart of the assassin's desire. Cris' head fell back against the former vampire's supporting shoulder, his gasps short and harsh as another finger joined its mate inside his body. Xiphon's tongue stabbed into his open mouth. Cristano sucked at it greedily.
The fingers eased out of him. The emptiness did not last long as the slick head of the Minoan's cock pushed firmly and inevitably inside of him. The prince was hot steel and velvet. He filled Cristano until it became his only awareness. Xiphon pulled back, then pressed forward with a guttural groan. Again. And again.
Asgeir moaned as Xiphon reached around him and took his bobbing shaft in his hand. The ex-vampire stroked in time with his thrusts, drawing desperate cries from Cristano with each flex of his hips.
Xiphon slowed his movements, sliding his cock slowly, languidly into Cristano. "Think of the pleasures ahead of you, dearest one," the Minoan murmured in his ear. "Me, holding you captive while I cleave you in two. Bobby pleasuring you in ways unimagined...."
Asgeir groaned, tremors wracking his body.
Xiphon deepened his thrusts, slamming them so tightly together that the slider imagined they had become one. Overcome by the sensations flooding him, Cristano sought to pull away. But the Minoan would not let him escape.
"Don't fight it," the ex-vampire growled. His hand around the other's cock stroked it fiercely until at last he wrung a broken cry from Asgeir's throat. The assassin exploded, jetting into the air in a pearlescent arc.
"By Apollo!" Xiphon groaned before he, too, succumbed to his passion. The prince clutched Cristano in a strangling grip as he spent himself into the heaving slider. He released Asgeir's arm and caught the Olympian as he collapsed backwards.
"Oh Jesus fucking Christ," Cristano managed to pant once he had regained his breath.
Strong arms tightened around him. "Forgive me your mistreatment, my love?" Xiphon kissed his shoulder.
Cristano turned around and stroked his face. He gave the Minoan a gentle smile and kissed him deeply. "After this, handsome - I'd forgive you anything!"
* * *
When Bobby arrived back in Oslo two weeks later, the word 'foul' could not begin to describe his mood. The flight had been delayed several times; the food had been terrible; and he had been forced to endure low-level whimpering of two brats in the first class cabin. Their squalling had kept him awake the entire flight, and thanks to the Elixir, he could not even stay drunk long enough to fall asleep.
It was a complete and unexpected surprise when he saw both Cristano and Xiphon waiting for him. The two seemed completely at ease together and Bobby could sense a sea-change in their attitudes towards each other.
Cris was the first to embrace him. "How was the flight?"
"It sucked. I couldn't wait to get off that damn plane. Anything that could go wrong, did."
Xiphon pulled Cromwell to him. "Well, kardoula mou, it has been quite the whirlwind of activity here. Our Cristano has beaten the world speed record several times over."
"You did?"
Cris smiled and nodded. "Xiphon's been at the track every day, cheering me on. It's been great!"
"It seems you two are getting along famously ... what happened?"
Asgeir opened his mouth to speak, but Xiphon laid a gentle hand on his arm. "There were too many hidden angers and misunderstandings between us. We both discovered how truly stupid they were. You were so right, my love - we aren't competitors. Not in the least." He ran his hand through Cristano's hair and pulled him into a gentle kiss. The young assassin snaked an arm around the former prince and held him close. Cromwell looked on in happy shock.
Cristano winked at Cromwell. "C'mon, let's go back to the hotel. Looks like you could use some real rest and relaxation. Among other things..."
* * *
When I mentioned Cristano in "Latex Law Enforcement" I knew right then and there that here was another one of my secondary characters that needed further development. A while back, my friend Paul mentioned that I didn't have a battle-hardened courier in my employ. We thought that he should probably be a rather active AE, involved in cycling, motor sports, etc. So when the Cristano made his appearance, the pieces all clicked into place. Cris will also be showcasing some of his talents for motocross, cycling and other activities.
I should also mention I often do a plot outline of my stories, but I leave the details to flesh themselves out as I write. I had no idea that Cris would surface, but it was quite fortunate when he did.
The luge suit is from Radical Speed, a super manufacturer of rubberized lycra based in Calgary. I've also purchased a motorcycle slick suit for use with my one-piece Technics racing leathers. The bobsledding spikes are actually a pair of Adidas track spikes - I wanted to get something that would complement the luge suit and look appropriately luge-ish... And for those purists out there - I *know* that's not a luge helmet! I like to be very accurate in my AE's, but I have to draw a line somewhere!
The Greyland Artist mask has again proved it's versatility - I really enjoy this mask since I can become so many different people in it!
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