"Evan, buddy, you need to pull yourself out of this ..."
Tom Gardner massaged his friend's broad shoulders as they sat at the bar.
"I know, I know, Tom ... you've been a great friend and I really appreciate everything you've done ..." The handsome engineer stared down into his drink. "... but what Nick did is still eating me up inside." His eyes began to fill with tears.
Evan had found a brusque goodbye note from his lover of five years when he arrived at their apartment one night. Nick Keffadoulos had announced that it was “time to move on” and left Evan Mitchell hurt, shocked and weeping. Tom Gardner, Evan's longtime friend and confidante, whisked the man on his private jet to St. Lucia to help him recover from the emotional turmoil.
At least he looks better physically. Tom thought. Evan had developed a dark tan from his time on the island, and his light brown hair was now streaked with ginger-gold highlights from the sun. He was wearing a pair of snug white cargo shorts and his pale red shirt hung open, revealing a ripped, shredded physique and smooth, powerful arms.
“Oh, please don't cry, sweetheart … you look fat when you cry …”
Despite the sorrow he felt, Evan laughed. “You always know the right thing to say, Tom.” He wiped the moisture from his eyes and sniffed. He gave his friend a wan smile.
Tom trailed long fingers around his friend’s square jaw. “I try, dude. I try. Why don’t you go and splash some water on your face and we’ll find you some cute twink for a good romp? No strings, just pure, unadulterated physical s-e-x. That's just what you need and there's no lack of interest here!” He grinned. Heads had swiveled when the two men entered Le Vent Ouest and several sets of eyes were still trained hungrily on the software developer.
“Sounds good to me!”
* * *
The bar was dimly lit to begin with, and as Evan moved further into the establish ment, the darker it became. His resolve firmed as he washed his hands.
No more emotional entanglements - I can't afford to be hurt again. I won't be hurt again. He smiled at the reflection of the handsome stud in the mirror. And God knows ... I can have anyone I fucking want.
As he left the restroom, a pocket of frigid air enveloped him. He shivered. Damn AC.
In a table tucked into a corner, Mitchell glimpsed a darkly handsome man nursing a drink. Their eyes met and Evan felt irresistibly attracted to the patron. The seated man seemed surprised that Evan even noticed him. As he drew closer, the engineer saw the sad look in the other man's eyes.
No time like the present. "Hey, I couldn’t help noticing you look like I feel. May I?” The man nodded and Evan pulled up a chair and sat down.
The single candle on the table produced a flickering light that danced over his features. The man in front of him was well-muscled and sported a similar tropical tan. His face was angular with arresting emerald-green eyes and his raven hair was somewhat long and slightly shaggy. At that point, the software designer noticed that he had a long scar running down his face. It started above his hairline, traveled down his forehead, crossed his eye and continued down his cheek. God, that’s so damn erotic. Feeling the scrutiny, the man turned his head and his hair fell forward to cover the damage.
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't stare.”
“No need to apologize, that is one of the reasons I remain back here.” His voice was a clear baritone and held the slightest trace of an accent. Evan couldn’t quite place it, but he found it soothing and exciting at the same time.
He put out his hand. “Evan Mitchell.”
The man seemed hesitant at first, but then put out his own. “Matthew Stark.” His grip seemed almost insubstantial, but firmed almost immediately. An electric tingle traveled up Evan's arm when the two men touched. The green eyes widened at the contact. Obviously, Stark had felt the same surge when he clasped Evan's hand.
Stark placed his hand over the other man's. "If I may be so bold to inquire, what burden weighs down your heart, Evan?"
"My lover left me after five years. My buddy brought me here to get over him, but up until now, I've been walking around in some hazy half-existence ... I'm around people, but I feel like so insubstantial ... almost like a ghost."
Matthew's hand tightened. "I, too, experienced a loss. My ... lover ... was murdered before my eyes ... and I played no small part in his death ..."
"What!"
He nodded. "A long and complicated story, my friend. My ambition led me into a union with the daughter of a wealthy man - the marriage was arranged to quell a scandal - but she could not understand that I had no love for her ... or for any woman..."
Stark poured himself another shot of rum and drank it. A sad smile creased his face. "My interests laid elsewhere - pardon the pun - with my first mate. I loved Nathaniel with all my heart and soul. Marie's mood changed from resignation, to anger and thence to madness. My own stupidity and carelessness brought this tragedy upon me. One afternoon, she came upon Nathaniel and I in the throes of passion and drove a dagger between his shoulder blades. He breathed his last in my arms. My wife ran screaming from our cottage and I pursued her, crazed with vengeance."
Tom Gardner massaged his friend's broad shoulders as they sat at the bar.
"I know, I know, Tom ... you've been a great friend and I really appreciate everything you've done ..." The handsome engineer stared down into his drink. "... but what Nick did is still eating me up inside." His eyes began to fill with tears.
Evan had found a brusque goodbye note from his lover of five years when he arrived at their apartment one night. Nick Keffadoulos had announced that it was “time to move on” and left Evan Mitchell hurt, shocked and weeping. Tom Gardner, Evan's longtime friend and confidante, whisked the man on his private jet to St. Lucia to help him recover from the emotional turmoil.
At least he looks better physically. Tom thought. Evan had developed a dark tan from his time on the island, and his light brown hair was now streaked with ginger-gold highlights from the sun. He was wearing a pair of snug white cargo shorts and his pale red shirt hung open, revealing a ripped, shredded physique and smooth, powerful arms.
“Oh, please don't cry, sweetheart … you look fat when you cry …”
Despite the sorrow he felt, Evan laughed. “You always know the right thing to say, Tom.” He wiped the moisture from his eyes and sniffed. He gave his friend a wan smile.
Tom trailed long fingers around his friend’s square jaw. “I try, dude. I try. Why don’t you go and splash some water on your face and we’ll find you some cute twink for a good romp? No strings, just pure, unadulterated physical s-e-x. That's just what you need and there's no lack of interest here!” He grinned. Heads had swiveled when the two men entered Le Vent Ouest and several sets of eyes were still trained hungrily on the software developer.
“Sounds good to me!”
* * *
The bar was dimly lit to begin with, and as Evan moved further into the establish ment, the darker it became. His resolve firmed as he washed his hands.No more emotional entanglements - I can't afford to be hurt again. I won't be hurt again. He smiled at the reflection of the handsome stud in the mirror. And God knows ... I can have anyone I fucking want.
As he left the restroom, a pocket of frigid air enveloped him. He shivered. Damn AC.
In a table tucked into a corner, Mitchell glimpsed a darkly handsome man nursing a drink. Their eyes met and Evan felt irresistibly attracted to the patron. The seated man seemed surprised that Evan even noticed him. As he drew closer, the engineer saw the sad look in the other man's eyes.
No time like the present. "Hey, I couldn’t help noticing you look like I feel. May I?” The man nodded and Evan pulled up a chair and sat down.
The single candle on the table produced a flickering light that danced over his features. The man in front of him was well-muscled and sported a similar tropical tan. His face was angular with arresting emerald-green eyes and his raven hair was somewhat long and slightly shaggy. At that point, the software designer noticed that he had a long scar running down his face. It started above his hairline, traveled down his forehead, crossed his eye and continued down his cheek. God, that’s so damn erotic. Feeling the scrutiny, the man turned his head and his hair fell forward to cover the damage.“I'm sorry, I shouldn't stare.”
“No need to apologize, that is one of the reasons I remain back here.” His voice was a clear baritone and held the slightest trace of an accent. Evan couldn’t quite place it, but he found it soothing and exciting at the same time.
He put out his hand. “Evan Mitchell.”
The man seemed hesitant at first, but then put out his own. “Matthew Stark.” His grip seemed almost insubstantial, but firmed almost immediately. An electric tingle traveled up Evan's arm when the two men touched. The green eyes widened at the contact. Obviously, Stark had felt the same surge when he clasped Evan's hand.
Stark placed his hand over the other man's. "If I may be so bold to inquire, what burden weighs down your heart, Evan?"
"My lover left me after five years. My buddy brought me here to get over him, but up until now, I've been walking around in some hazy half-existence ... I'm around people, but I feel like so insubstantial ... almost like a ghost."
Matthew's hand tightened. "I, too, experienced a loss. My ... lover ... was murdered before my eyes ... and I played no small part in his death ..."
"What!"
He nodded. "A long and complicated story, my friend. My ambition led me into a union with the daughter of a wealthy man - the marriage was arranged to quell a scandal - but she could not understand that I had no love for her ... or for any woman..."Stark poured himself another shot of rum and drank it. A sad smile creased his face. "My interests laid elsewhere - pardon the pun - with my first mate. I loved Nathaniel with all my heart and soul. Marie's mood changed from resignation, to anger and thence to madness. My own stupidity and carelessness brought this tragedy upon me. One afternoon, she came upon Nathaniel and I in the throes of passion and drove a dagger between his shoulder blades. He breathed his last in my arms. My wife ran screaming from our cottage and I pursued her, crazed with vengeance."
"These ..." He pointed to the scars on his face. "... were her final gifts to me ere she launched herself off the cliff at Point Royal, cursing me as she fell to the rocks below..."
"Oh God, Matthew, I'm so sorry ... my problems are nothing compared to yours!"
In the background, the DJ started playing "Chain Reaction" by Diana Ross. Matthew gently stroked along Evan's muscular forearm. "We are two broken men, Evan ... perhaps ... perhaps spending some time together will give us a respite from our pain. Come."
* * *
As Matthew stood, Evan noticed how his tight breeches disappeared into tall, black boots. Combined with the dark green shirt that complemented his eyes, Stark was making Evan's pulse race and his crotch swell. The outfit was a bit strange - more out of date than anything else - but Evan had seen stranger during his time on the island. There was still some local celebration going on with parades and outlandish parties. The engineer grasped the other's wrist and led him onto the floor. His hands settled on the other's trim waist as the two moved together; Mitchell's thumbs lightly stroking the muscles beneath the thin forest-dark material. Matthew closed his eyes in pleasure; he hands snaked beneath the red shirt and began to trace intricate whorls on the other man's muscular back.
The engineer sighed. "Ahhhhh ... this feels so good ... you feel so good ..."
Stark pulled him closer. A hand traveled up behind Evan's head and gently stroked his hair. Green eyes met brown as the dark-haired man pulled Evan's face closer to his; their lips met. The kiss was hesitant at first, but soon grew in intensity. The music - even the nightclub itself - faded from existence as two sets of lips crushed against each other and two tongues battled within the heated darkness. Breathless, Evan broke the kiss. Sound and light and music returned. Matthew was staring delightedly at him. The engineer smiled back.
"God-fucking-damn!!!"
"Is there somewhere more private to which we may retire?" Stark nibbled along the other man's jaw and looked hungrily at Evan through his dark hair.
"C'mon!"
* * *
Sleep rolled off Evan slow and easy. It was the kind of feeling where he knew he was awake, but didn't much care. Soft cotton sheets brushed his skin, swaddling his legs, keeping him content. Like a cat by the fire, a drowsy Mitchell breathed in the tropical morning as warm sunlight washed over him.
God, what a wonderful dream he'd had about landing just the right guy. Sexy, good looking, and one hell of a lover ... just about perfect. Then Matthew stirred. My God, it wasn't a dream! The engineer smiled and opened his eyes. That warm, hard body was still wrapped in his arms from the night before. He must really like the sea captain to have been able to sleep like that. Matthew sighed and blinked away slumber. It can only be sex - I can't manage another breakup.
" 'Morning, handsome." Evan mumbled the greeting before settling into a leisurely kiss. It had been a while since he'd had someone to wake up to. Matthew, in his opinion, was just right for that job. Hopefully, the captain would be interested in at least a part-time position of bedwarmer. As they kissed, Matthew's hips pushed against his thigh. Early morning lust throbbed hard between his legs. A similar part of Evan's anatomy woke up with that attention. Little shivers settled between his shoulders, then moved down through his chest and belly. Both men shifted so their pricks could touch.
Oh, hell yeah! That was exactly what Evan needed. Stark's thick cock ground against his own aching length. It didn't take much movement to fuel the slow burn. They slid against each other. A measured, easy pace, skin against skin, there was no better way to wake up.
"You like?" It was a statement and a question. Mitchell ran his palms down Matthew's thighs, skimming just above the skin. His bedmate shivered, then rotated his hips. The engineer gasped as the head of Matthew's cock slid up his shaft; moistening the skin with the slick heat leaking from the tip.
"Oh, damn," he shuddered. Stark chuckled. It was like thick satin rubbing against his skin.
Fingers working down Evan's spine, Matthew nipped at his throat.
"I find it... " Stark kissed Mitchell's stubbled jaw. "...delightful..." Stark breathed into the hollow of the other's throat.
Languid rolling of his hips pushed them together again and again.
"Quite ... intoxicating ... Yes. So incredibly, incredibly good."
Evan closed his eyes and rode the feelings. This kind of sex was so different from the hard passion of the night before. It was warm and comfortable. Their juices mixed each time heads bumped, adding to the chills creeping through the designer's frame. They had time to kiss and taste and tease. Matthew tasted so good. He smelled so sexy. Hands wandered over backs and arms. Tongues again explored each other's mouths. Mitchell's fingers latched onto Matthew's hard cheeks. Stark moaned as the engineer pulled him hard against his body. Cocks rubbing together, they rocked sweet and slow. Each stroke made them twitch.
Each kiss drew out sighs. With a hiss and a shudder Mitchell fell up and over into ecstasy.
"Jesus, Matt!"
Stark joined him seconds later. "Oh dear Lord in Heaven - AMAZING!" Panting and satisfied, the captain nuzzled into Evan's shoulder while his fingers traced lazy circles at the small of the other's back. Their combined essence cooled sticky on skin.
Mitchell gave his bedmate a quick kiss and padded into the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and turned on the shower. The designer lathered up his face and began to shave when Matthew entered the room. If he hadn't been staring in the mirror, he would have not heard the other man enter - he was completely silent.
His naked body gleamed under the bright light. The captain's hair was tousled from the exploits of the previous night and this morning's activities, but he was as clean-shaven as he had been the previous night. That's odd. Mitchell thought.
He looked pensive. "Evan, I was wondering ... may I call on you again? Will you consent to be with me?"
Mitchell looked through the mirror at the other man. "Sure, stud. No problem. Next time I visit St. Lucia, I'll look you up."
His face fell. "You are leaving the island?"
"Yep. Gotta get back to Dallas. I've been away for too long. Bills aren't going to pay themselves."
Stark looked like he'd been just punched in the gut. "Please Evan ... please. Spend just one more day with me? Just until the new moon rises?" He gently wrapped powerful arms around the other man and kissed between his shoulder blades. Matthew's thick dark hair tickled his back and made him shiver.
"Matt, you're a great guy and we had a fun time. But I'm not getting involved with anyone. I don't want any attachments. You're a great fuck buddy - let's leave it at that, okay?" Evan was a bit surprised at his own callousness - this was something he'd never would have said or done to Nick.
Matthew disengaged himself and Evan could see the unshed tears in the other man's eyes. "I had thought that Divine Providence had at last looked upon me with favor ... I was wrong. So, so wrong..." Shoulders slumped, he left the bathroom.
Mitchell finished shaving and got into the shower. By the time he left the bathroom, Matthew Stark was gone.
"Oh God, Matthew, I'm so sorry ... my problems are nothing compared to yours!"
In the background, the DJ started playing "Chain Reaction" by Diana Ross. Matthew gently stroked along Evan's muscular forearm. "We are two broken men, Evan ... perhaps ... perhaps spending some time together will give us a respite from our pain. Come."
* * *
As Matthew stood, Evan noticed how his tight breeches disappeared into tall, black boots. Combined with the dark green shirt that complemented his eyes, Stark was making Evan's pulse race and his crotch swell. The outfit was a bit strange - more out of date than anything else - but Evan had seen stranger during his time on the island. There was still some local celebration going on with parades and outlandish parties. The engineer grasped the other's wrist and led him onto the floor. His hands settled on the other's trim waist as the two moved together; Mitchell's thumbs lightly stroking the muscles beneath the thin forest-dark material. Matthew closed his eyes in pleasure; he hands snaked beneath the red shirt and began to trace intricate whorls on the other man's muscular back.The engineer sighed. "Ahhhhh ... this feels so good ... you feel so good ..."
Stark pulled him closer. A hand traveled up behind Evan's head and gently stroked his hair. Green eyes met brown as the dark-haired man pulled Evan's face closer to his; their lips met. The kiss was hesitant at first, but soon grew in intensity. The music - even the nightclub itself - faded from existence as two sets of lips crushed against each other and two tongues battled within the heated darkness. Breathless, Evan broke the kiss. Sound and light and music returned. Matthew was staring delightedly at him. The engineer smiled back.
"God-fucking-damn!!!"
"Is there somewhere more private to which we may retire?" Stark nibbled along the other man's jaw and looked hungrily at Evan through his dark hair.
"C'mon!"
* * *
Sleep rolled off Evan slow and easy. It was the kind of feeling where he knew he was awake, but didn't much care. Soft cotton sheets brushed his skin, swaddling his legs, keeping him content. Like a cat by the fire, a drowsy Mitchell breathed in the tropical morning as warm sunlight washed over him.God, what a wonderful dream he'd had about landing just the right guy. Sexy, good looking, and one hell of a lover ... just about perfect. Then Matthew stirred. My God, it wasn't a dream! The engineer smiled and opened his eyes. That warm, hard body was still wrapped in his arms from the night before. He must really like the sea captain to have been able to sleep like that. Matthew sighed and blinked away slumber. It can only be sex - I can't manage another breakup.
" 'Morning, handsome." Evan mumbled the greeting before settling into a leisurely kiss. It had been a while since he'd had someone to wake up to. Matthew, in his opinion, was just right for that job. Hopefully, the captain would be interested in at least a part-time position of bedwarmer. As they kissed, Matthew's hips pushed against his thigh. Early morning lust throbbed hard between his legs. A similar part of Evan's anatomy woke up with that attention. Little shivers settled between his shoulders, then moved down through his chest and belly. Both men shifted so their pricks could touch.
Oh, hell yeah! That was exactly what Evan needed. Stark's thick cock ground against his own aching length. It didn't take much movement to fuel the slow burn. They slid against each other. A measured, easy pace, skin against skin, there was no better way to wake up.
"You like?" It was a statement and a question. Mitchell ran his palms down Matthew's thighs, skimming just above the skin. His bedmate shivered, then rotated his hips. The engineer gasped as the head of Matthew's cock slid up his shaft; moistening the skin with the slick heat leaking from the tip."Oh, damn," he shuddered. Stark chuckled. It was like thick satin rubbing against his skin.
Fingers working down Evan's spine, Matthew nipped at his throat.
"I find it... " Stark kissed Mitchell's stubbled jaw. "...delightful..." Stark breathed into the hollow of the other's throat.
Languid rolling of his hips pushed them together again and again.
"Quite ... intoxicating ... Yes. So incredibly, incredibly good."
Evan closed his eyes and rode the feelings. This kind of sex was so different from the hard passion of the night before. It was warm and comfortable. Their juices mixed each time heads bumped, adding to the chills creeping through the designer's frame. They had time to kiss and taste and tease. Matthew tasted so good. He smelled so sexy. Hands wandered over backs and arms. Tongues again explored each other's mouths. Mitchell's fingers latched onto Matthew's hard cheeks. Stark moaned as the engineer pulled him hard against his body. Cocks rubbing together, they rocked sweet and slow. Each stroke made them twitch.
Each kiss drew out sighs. With a hiss and a shudder Mitchell fell up and over into ecstasy.
"Jesus, Matt!"
Stark joined him seconds later. "Oh dear Lord in Heaven - AMAZING!" Panting and satisfied, the captain nuzzled into Evan's shoulder while his fingers traced lazy circles at the small of the other's back. Their combined essence cooled sticky on skin.
Mitchell gave his bedmate a quick kiss and padded into the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and turned on the shower. The designer lathered up his face and began to shave when Matthew entered the room. If he hadn't been staring in the mirror, he would have not heard the other man enter - he was completely silent.
His naked body gleamed under the bright light. The captain's hair was tousled from the exploits of the previous night and this morning's activities, but he was as clean-shaven as he had been the previous night. That's odd. Mitchell thought.
He looked pensive. "Evan, I was wondering ... may I call on you again? Will you consent to be with me?"
Mitchell looked through the mirror at the other man. "Sure, stud. No problem. Next time I visit St. Lucia, I'll look you up."
His face fell. "You are leaving the island?"
"Yep. Gotta get back to Dallas. I've been away for too long. Bills aren't going to pay themselves."
Stark looked like he'd been just punched in the gut. "Please Evan ... please. Spend just one more day with me? Just until the new moon rises?" He gently wrapped powerful arms around the other man and kissed between his shoulder blades. Matthew's thick dark hair tickled his back and made him shiver.
"Matt, you're a great guy and we had a fun time. But I'm not getting involved with anyone. I don't want any attachments. You're a great fuck buddy - let's leave it at that, okay?" Evan was a bit surprised at his own callousness - this was something he'd never would have said or done to Nick.
Matthew disengaged himself and Evan could see the unshed tears in the other man's eyes. "I had thought that Divine Providence had at last looked upon me with favor ... I was wrong. So, so wrong..." Shoulders slumped, he left the bathroom.
Mitchell finished shaving and got into the shower. By the time he left the bathroom, Matthew Stark was gone.
* * *
"I don't know what your problem is, Tom. You were right. One hundred percent right. I had to get over Nick and get out of the state I was in. I did. And now you're complaining about my behavior?"
The two friends were sharing dinner at Aurora, one of the most expensive restaurants in the city. Gardner took a sip of his wine.
"Physically, you finally realize what everyone has seen for a long time - you're an amazingly handsome man with the stamina of a rutting bull. You literally ooze sex and confidence now. But what I'm saying is you've changed, and not for the better. I miss the man I could talk to about anything. Share anything with. You've become a self-absorbed, bitter, manipulative bastard ... I want my best friend back."
Evan sliced into his Chateaubriand and popped a piece into his mouth. "Oh, that's really rich, Tom. A trust fund brat telling me I'm self-absorbed? That's a classic case of the pot calling the kettle black." Mitchell signaled the sommelier for another glass of burgundy.
Gardner looked sadly across the table. "You're pushing everyone away - even me. Look how you treated that poor guy on the island. We could have spent some more time there - he was hurting and you basically told him to fuck off so you could take a shower. That was downright cruel, Evan ... how could you do that?"
"I've spent too much time being concerned about everyone else. It time to think about me now. I don't know why I didn't do this sooner - I like the new me."
"Well, I don't." Gardner signaled the waiter for the check. "You can stay here if you want; I'm heading home. I'll see you around."
Evan waved to his former lover as he left the table. As he was finishing his wine, one of the busboys caught his eye. Slim, with dark hair and dark eyes. He must have felt the attention and turned to look at Mitchell. A look passed between them and Evan gave him a wolfish smile. Mmm-mmm ... the only thing better than the main course is the dessert ...
Mitchell acknowledged (to himself) that he had grown rougher with his lovers in the past few months, but he was exceedingly so with the young man; Toby left the apartment bruised and limping. Evan was annoyed; the new restaurant's menu had been so-so despite the rave reviews and the engineer was walking down Lemmon Avenue back towards his office complex. On the corner of McKinney Avenue, he passed a Borders bookstore. Ordinarily, he bought his books or movies through Amazon.com - what caught his eye was a huge poster in the window:
Gardner looked sadly across the table. "You're pushing everyone away - even me. Look how you treated that poor guy on the island. We could have spent some more time there - he was hurting and you basically told him to fuck off so you could take a shower. That was downright cruel, Evan ... how could you do that?"
"I've spent too much time being concerned about everyone else. It time to think about me now. I don't know why I didn't do this sooner - I like the new me."
"Well, I don't." Gardner signaled the waiter for the check. "You can stay here if you want; I'm heading home. I'll see you around."
Evan waved to his former lover as he left the table. As he was finishing his wine, one of the busboys caught his eye. Slim, with dark hair and dark eyes. He must have felt the attention and turned to look at Mitchell. A look passed between them and Evan gave him a wolfish smile. Mmm-mmm ... the only thing better than the main course is the dessert ...
* * *
The following day, Evan was returning from lunch and thinking about his encounter with Toby from the previous night. His conversation with Tom had disturbed him deeply for some reason and unfortunately, he took it out on the busboy. His treatment of the island captain had gnawed at him, but he constantly pushed his feelings of guilt aside.Mitchell acknowledged (to himself) that he had grown rougher with his lovers in the past few months, but he was exceedingly so with the young man; Toby left the apartment bruised and limping. Evan was annoyed; the new restaurant's menu had been so-so despite the rave reviews and the engineer was walking down Lemmon Avenue back towards his office complex. On the corner of McKinney Avenue, he passed a Borders bookstore. Ordinarily, he bought his books or movies through Amazon.com - what caught his eye was a huge poster in the window:
"BOOK SIGNING TODAY - SAMANTHA PULLMAN"
along with a huge picture of the book - it was brown with white and blue writing and a large picture of Matthew Stark on the cover. He paused, staring at the face and entered the bookstore.
* * *
She was a beautiful woman with long black hair and cafe au lait skin. She wore a beige silk blouse which complemented her complexion and a twisted multi-strand of freshwater pearls. A short skirt in a darker taupe material wrapped around long, shapely legs. She looked up at him from the signing table with pale brown eyes.
"The supernatural interests you?" Her voice was soft and clear, with a island lilt that was as enchanting as her looks.
"Not really, but you had Matt's picture on the cover and I just felt I had to stop in. I met him when I was in St. Lucia last year. Was he one of your sources?"
She glanced sharply at him. Evan felt a chill run through his frame, as if she was staring into his soul. Weighing it. He was held enthralled by her gaze.
"What is your name?"
"Mitchell. Evan Mitchell" he stammered.
Pullman wrote into the front of the book and handed it back to him and smiled. "I'm sure you will find within it some fascinating information."
He stumbled off the line and out of the store.
* * *
When he returned to his office, Evan opened the book. He was shaken by the effect the author had on him. Pullman had wrote:
"Not really, but you had Matt's picture on the cover and I just felt I had to stop in. I met him when I was in St. Lucia last year. Was he one of your sources?"
She glanced sharply at him. Evan felt a chill run through his frame, as if she was staring into his soul. Weighing it. He was held enthralled by her gaze.
"What is your name?"
"Mitchell. Evan Mitchell" he stammered.
Pullman wrote into the front of the book and handed it back to him and smiled. "I'm sure you will find within it some fascinating information."
He stumbled off the line and out of the store.
* * *
When he returned to his office, Evan opened the book. He was shaken by the effect the author had on him. Pullman had wrote:
"We must speak. 214-555-4379. Page 72."
The engineer opened the book to page 72. There, as on the cover, was the portrait of Matthew Stark. The title read, "The Captain"
Very little is known about this manifestation - at times, he has been described as ephemeral; at other times, as substantial as any human being. What is known is that this tortured soul first appeared on the island of St. Lucia as early as 1734.
One version of the legend has it that this sea captain murdered his wife and tossed her body off the cliffs of Point Royal to hide his crime. Another, when he returned late from the sea one dark evening, his wife, mistaking him for a thief, stabbed him in the chest and slashed his face. When she saw in fact that it was her husband she attacked (and thinking him dead), threw herself into the sea.
In either instance, M.S. - his name lost to history - disappeared from the island. Some have thought that he too, threw himself from the rocky cliffs to join his wife and continues to search for her; a more romantic storyline believes he died of a broken heart and seeks still to find his lost love.
M.S. is one of the more durable spirits in the history of Western paranormal activity. Like other long-time hauntings (such as the Drury Lane spirit, "The Man in Grey") his appearance is a highly detailed, full-body manifestation. As with most apparitions, a blast of frigid air often accompanies his appearance in a dark green shirt, breeches and boots. He often emerges in small bars and nightclubs on the island but sometimes fades away if approached too closely. He has never displayed any malevolent behavior, nor have any people encountering him felt any sense of evil. "Heartbroken" or "Lonely" is a term most often used to describe this being. One notable encounter with M.S. occurred with an Australian naval lieutenant on shore leave. This - as with other encounters - raises the possibility that M.S. could be a revenant with some arcane abilities.
"I had been on a bit of a bender with my mates and we sort of wandered off the beaten path ; we had gotten lost in the outskirts of town.
I was scouting ahead to see if we could find a car to bring us back to the port when I tripped and landed flat on my face, twisting my ankle in the process. 'Let me help you up.' said a voice and I found myself hauled up and looking straight at this bloke. Dark hair, green eyes and a scar running down his face. I remember it being strange being in a dark forest I could see him so clearly.
He looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He looked so sad I damn near wanted to bawl. 'Do you know which way back to town?' I asked him. He nodded as put his arm around my waist as we limped through the underbrush.
I yelled to my mates to follow me as I found ourselves a guide. When we got to the main road, he let go of me and as I was about to thank him, he just faded away. My mates joined up a heartbeat later and told me I was hallucinating. I know what I saw and I know what he did."
Evan's hands were shaking as he continued to read about Matthew Stark. It took him several tries to dial the number written in the front of the book.
"Hello? Ms. Pullman?"
A pause. "Mr. Mitchell? I was waiting for your call."
"Can we meet?"
"Certainly. Why don't you come over to my hotel? I'm at the Fairmont - room 1217."
* * *
"So you are telling me he was corporeal the entire time you were with him?"
Evan nodded. Samantha was an amazing woman; he had poured his heart out to her - about Nick, meeting Matthew, their time together, the pleas he had ignored and how the two had parted.
"I can't use the excuse of breaking up with Nick about how I treated Matthew ... I acted like a self-absorbed, manipulative bastard." Tom's words were coming back to haunt him.
"Sam, what can I do to help?"
The island woman looked at him and took his hands in hers.
"Evan - think deeply before you answer me ... Why do you want to help Matthew Stark? Are you doing out of pity? Or guilt? Or love?"
He paused. "A bit of all three. More of the latter two, I guess. I felt a surge of something between us the first time we touched and I should have welcomed it with open arms. Instead, I treated him like dirt. Why?"
"Because you may be able to break his curse and free him, but not if you're only trying to salve your own conscience."
"Tell me what I need to do."
* * *
Evan found himself once more on St. Lucia and back again in Le Vent Ouest. He moved to the back of the bar and sat at the same table where he had first saw Matthew appear. The engineer opened his satchel and took out the small candle that Sam had prepared for him, along with a penknife. He had Samatha's instructions burned into his mind.
"I can't use the excuse of breaking up with Nick about how I treated Matthew ... I acted like a self-absorbed, manipulative bastard." Tom's words were coming back to haunt him.
"Sam, what can I do to help?"
The island woman looked at him and took his hands in hers.
"Evan - think deeply before you answer me ... Why do you want to help Matthew Stark? Are you doing out of pity? Or guilt? Or love?"
He paused. "A bit of all three. More of the latter two, I guess. I felt a surge of something between us the first time we touched and I should have welcomed it with open arms. Instead, I treated him like dirt. Why?"
"Because you may be able to break his curse and free him, but not if you're only trying to salve your own conscience."
"Tell me what I need to do."
* * *
Evan found himself once more on St. Lucia and back again in Le Vent Ouest. He moved to the back of the bar and sat at the same table where he had first saw Matthew appear. The engineer opened his satchel and took out the small candle that Sam had prepared for him, along with a penknife. He had Samatha's instructions burned into his mind.
"When you are ready, Evan, place a drop of your blood into the candle and light it."
He squeezed the ball of his forefinger and with the tip of the blade, jabbed it in. A splinter of pain wrapped around his hand as he squeezed the ruby fluid into the candle's holder. Mitchell then lit the candle. It spluttered and hissed as the blood dried and a strong scent of bergamot and ginger filled the air.
"Remember that a spell is just so many words, so when casting spells for summoning spirits, the real key is your focus, your natural ability, and your desire to have that which the spell delivers. Begin breathing in and out through your nose. Once you are completely relaxed, begin to count backwards from your current age over and over again. As you do this, allow one breath in for every 3 numbers, and one breath out for every 3 numbers. Hold an image of the person you wish to summon in your mind."
Evan pictured the darkly handsome face with the scar running across it. He pictured his muscular frame; his strong, gentle hands. His beautiful green eyes. The software designer whispered, "Matthew ... Matthew ... I'm here. I'm back. I'm so sorry how I left you. Please come to me." He continued Sam's instructions until the sputtering candle extinguished.
Nothing.
With tears in his eyes, Evan left the bar.
* * *
For how long Evan Mitchell walked, he didn't know. He eventually found himself on the beach with only the sound of the surf and a warm breeze as his companion. He lay back on the sand and stared up at the velvet dark sky. After how I treated him, I wouldn't want me either. He thought. He sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees, still deep in thought and regret.
"Hey, hey - what do we have here? We gots a white boy to have some fun with!"
Evan looked up to see two young island men. They were wearing only snug board shorts which highlighted their dark muscular torsos and shaved heads. The taller of the two had a wicked looking knife in his hand and obviously knew how to use it.
The other grinned. "Mmmm ... nice piece of meat. After we done, the body goes into the surf. Tide'll wash him out to sea."
Evan felt fear growing in the pit of his stomach. He slowly got to his feet. "Let's not do anything hasty, guys ... look, you want my wallet?" He pulled it out of his back pocket.
"Here it is."
The burlier of the two laughed. "We'll take that soon enough, mon ... but we want to cut you up good and watch you bleed out first ..."
Evan began to run. The man without the knife caught up with him and knocked him to the ground. The engineer fought but he was overpowered and subdued. The other man caught up with him, smiling. "Won't do you no good to run, mon. You be singing with the angels tonight."
Suddenly, Mitchell shivered as a icy chill passed through him. The others felt it too.
"What the hell was dat?"
"Even at my worst as a privateer, I never hunted a man down for sport. Let him go now or face my wrath!"
The two spun around at the harsh voice. Matthew Stark stood before them, emerald eyes blazing. All he needed was a fiery sword to complete the picture of an avenging warrior angel. The shorter man's mouth dropped open and his eyes widened in terror. He bolted away.
"Khalid! Get your ass back here!" the remaining thug yelled. He brandished the knife at Matthew, making small motions as he circled the sea captain. Stark stared at him with disdain.
"You a brave mon, huh? Let's see how brave you be with a knife in your chest!" and lunged.
Only to pass right through Stark's body to stumble onto the sand, stunned. Instantly solid, Matthew kicked him and the former attacker tumbled over onto his back. A booted foot rose and crashed down on the man's neck with a sickening crunch. He lay still. Matthew turned to Evan.
"Are you hurt, Evan? I felt your summons and came as soon as could. It took me some time to find you on this expanse of sand."
Mitchell walked shakily over to the other man and looked into the sad emerald green eyes. He wrapped his arms around the spirit and hugged him close. Evan began to weep. Stark's arms rose and completed the embrace.
"Oh, God, Matthew - can you ever forgive me for being such a fucking asshole?" That surge of power he had felt the first time they touched was stronger than ever. An electric tingle spread throughout his entire body as he held the dark-haired man close.
"Oh my love ... my heart was shattered when you left. I have not felt such an attraction to a soul since my poor Nathaniel passed through the veil..." he nuzzled Evan's neck with soft kisses and nibbled his earlobe.
He held Mitchell at arms length - "I gather from the summoning spell, you know of my true history? Of my curse? To wander forlornly this small isle until someone will help me break the occult chains which bind me?"
Evan nodded. "Uh-huh. I'm not letting you go again." He kissed him hard. "I'm here for you - no matter what ... if you'll have me."
Matthew stroked the side of Evan's face. Mitchell took the hand and gently kissed it.
"Come, Evan. It is the time of my reckoning - and hopefully the time of my release."
The sea captain led his lover down the beach.
* * *
The two men stood atop the promontory of Point Royal. The wind was stronger here, whipping their hair across their faces. The sea crashed into the rocks below, sending massive plumes of water up towards them. The air was sharp with the tang of salt and surf.
"Are you ready, my love?" Matthew asked.
Evan swallowed hard, and nodded.
Stark called out in a loud voice -
Their breath steamed in the suddenly gelid air. The winds shrieked on the cliff and a dark cloud appeared on the horizon; with deliberation, it began to move quickly towards them. A vast shadowy shape appeared in the night sky, blotting out the stars. Evan was terrified, but stood his ground. He could feel the incredible power of the seraph facing him. It was not evil, but grim. And purposeful.
Matthew bowed and spoke to the archangel.
"My lord, I claim my freedom. The forms have been followed, the rites performed and my champion chosen. I demand my release."
Evan pictured the darkly handsome face with the scar running across it. He pictured his muscular frame; his strong, gentle hands. His beautiful green eyes. The software designer whispered, "Matthew ... Matthew ... I'm here. I'm back. I'm so sorry how I left you. Please come to me." He continued Sam's instructions until the sputtering candle extinguished.
Nothing.
With tears in his eyes, Evan left the bar.
* * *
For how long Evan Mitchell walked, he didn't know. He eventually found himself on the beach with only the sound of the surf and a warm breeze as his companion. He lay back on the sand and stared up at the velvet dark sky. After how I treated him, I wouldn't want me either. He thought. He sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees, still deep in thought and regret.
"Hey, hey - what do we have here? We gots a white boy to have some fun with!"
Evan looked up to see two young island men. They were wearing only snug board shorts which highlighted their dark muscular torsos and shaved heads. The taller of the two had a wicked looking knife in his hand and obviously knew how to use it.The other grinned. "Mmmm ... nice piece of meat. After we done, the body goes into the surf. Tide'll wash him out to sea."
Evan felt fear growing in the pit of his stomach. He slowly got to his feet. "Let's not do anything hasty, guys ... look, you want my wallet?" He pulled it out of his back pocket.
"Here it is."
The burlier of the two laughed. "We'll take that soon enough, mon ... but we want to cut you up good and watch you bleed out first ..."
Evan began to run. The man without the knife caught up with him and knocked him to the ground. The engineer fought but he was overpowered and subdued. The other man caught up with him, smiling. "Won't do you no good to run, mon. You be singing with the angels tonight."
Suddenly, Mitchell shivered as a icy chill passed through him. The others felt it too.
"What the hell was dat?"
"Even at my worst as a privateer, I never hunted a man down for sport. Let him go now or face my wrath!"
The two spun around at the harsh voice. Matthew Stark stood before them, emerald eyes blazing. All he needed was a fiery sword to complete the picture of an avenging warrior angel. The shorter man's mouth dropped open and his eyes widened in terror. He bolted away.
"Khalid! Get your ass back here!" the remaining thug yelled. He brandished the knife at Matthew, making small motions as he circled the sea captain. Stark stared at him with disdain.
"You a brave mon, huh? Let's see how brave you be with a knife in your chest!" and lunged.
Only to pass right through Stark's body to stumble onto the sand, stunned. Instantly solid, Matthew kicked him and the former attacker tumbled over onto his back. A booted foot rose and crashed down on the man's neck with a sickening crunch. He lay still. Matthew turned to Evan.
"Are you hurt, Evan? I felt your summons and came as soon as could. It took me some time to find you on this expanse of sand."
Mitchell walked shakily over to the other man and looked into the sad emerald green eyes. He wrapped his arms around the spirit and hugged him close. Evan began to weep. Stark's arms rose and completed the embrace.
"Oh, God, Matthew - can you ever forgive me for being such a fucking asshole?" That surge of power he had felt the first time they touched was stronger than ever. An electric tingle spread throughout his entire body as he held the dark-haired man close.
"Oh my love ... my heart was shattered when you left. I have not felt such an attraction to a soul since my poor Nathaniel passed through the veil..." he nuzzled Evan's neck with soft kisses and nibbled his earlobe.
He held Mitchell at arms length - "I gather from the summoning spell, you know of my true history? Of my curse? To wander forlornly this small isle until someone will help me break the occult chains which bind me?"
Evan nodded. "Uh-huh. I'm not letting you go again." He kissed him hard. "I'm here for you - no matter what ... if you'll have me."
Matthew stroked the side of Evan's face. Mitchell took the hand and gently kissed it.
"Come, Evan. It is the time of my reckoning - and hopefully the time of my release."
The sea captain led his lover down the beach.
* * *
The two men stood atop the promontory of Point Royal. The wind was stronger here, whipping their hair across their faces. The sea crashed into the rocks below, sending massive plumes of water up towards them. The air was sharp with the tang of salt and surf.
"Are you ready, my love?" Matthew asked.
Evan swallowed hard, and nodded.
Stark called out in a loud voice -
Magic forces black and white,Evan continued.
Reaching out through space and light,
Be he far or be he near
Bring us the Seraph Azrael here.
Spirits of air, of sand and sea,
Converge to set my lover free.
Into the wind I send this rhyme,
B-bring Death before me before my time.
Their breath steamed in the suddenly gelid air. The winds shrieked on the cliff and a dark cloud appeared on the horizon; with deliberation, it began to move quickly towards them. A vast shadowy shape appeared in the night sky, blotting out the stars. Evan was terrified, but stood his ground. He could feel the incredible power of the seraph facing him. It was not evil, but grim. And purposeful.Matthew bowed and spoke to the archangel.
"My lord, I claim my freedom. The forms have been followed, the rites performed and my champion chosen. I demand my release."
A pause. "NO." That word sounded like the tolling of great bells. "YOU ARE FOREVER DAMNED AND YOUR TIME HERE DRAWS TO A CLOSE. THE ABYSS AWAITS YOU. COME." A dark tendril moved towards Matthew.
Evan stepped in front of Stark and shielded him with his body. "You'll have to go through me first." If possible, the sky darkened even further and jagged bolts of lightning exploded around them. Evan could feel the hair on his body standing on end.
The tendril paused. "STEP ASIDE, MORTAL."
"Make me." Evan found his courage growing. "You can't do it, can you? Listen, it took over three hundred years for us to find each other, and I'm not losing him now. I was stupid once to let him slip away and I'm not making the same mistake twice. I love Matthew and you either have to free him or take me with him. And you don't have the authority to damn an innocent man - I think that's above your pay grade."
"THEN YOU SHALL JOIN HIM IN ETERNAL TORMENT!" A bolt of lightning sizzled at his feet.
"You're bluffing. I don't believe you."
The engineer felt a caress on his cheek. Mitchell looked over his shoulder at the dark-haired spirit; he was near despair, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Evan, my love, I cannot allow you to damn yourself for me. Step aside. Let me go. I will not have your death on my conscience - far too much blood is on my hands already."
He gave the other man a deep kiss, followed by a wicked grin. "No way. I told you, Matthew. I wouldn't leave you again. No matter what. Better to be together in Hell than here without you."He turned back to the archangel. "Okay, Azrael - do you worst. I'm not leaving him."
"THEN YOU SHALL JOIN HIM IN ETERNAL TORMENT!" A bolt of lightning sizzled at his feet.
"You're bluffing. I don't believe you."
The engineer felt a caress on his cheek. Mitchell looked over his shoulder at the dark-haired spirit; he was near despair, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Evan, my love, I cannot allow you to damn yourself for me. Step aside. Let me go. I will not have your death on my conscience - far too much blood is on my hands already."
He gave the other man a deep kiss, followed by a wicked grin. "No way. I told you, Matthew. I wouldn't leave you again. No matter what. Better to be together in Hell than here without you."He turned back to the archangel. "Okay, Azrael - do you worst. I'm not leaving him."
The dark angel paused. "YOU HAVE CHOSEN A FORMIDABLE CHAMPION, MY LOYAL SERVANT - UNYIELDING AND FEARLESS IN THE FACE OF DEATH ITSELF. YOUR FETTERS ARE UNBOUND ... YOU ARE FREE."Azrael paused. "AND YOU, MORTAL - YOU HAVE CHOSEN WISELY AS WELL."
A warm breeze came from the sea as the grim being faded from view and the sky began to lighten. The two men soon found themselves on the ground, naked and entwined in each other's embrace. Evan ran his hands through the thick raven hair and deeply kissed the sensuous lips."We've got a lot of catching up to do, sweetheart. I think you'll enjoy Dallas."
Stark chuckled. "I am sure I will. Particularly with you to share it with." The engineer arched in pleasure as Matthew stroked him gently. He rolled Evan onto his back and propped his legs over his broad shoulders.
Their cries of pleasure mixed with the calls of gulls as the sun rose on a new day.
* * *
This should have really been my Halloween story, right?Earthbound spirits, voodoo, the Angel of Death - perfect for a spooky evening! Well, better late than never! Azrael (or sometimes Uriel) is considered the Angel of Death. When I was researching voodoo spells, I came across the reference to Death, and that led me to some additional research on archangels.
When I first received my "Scarred Stud" from SPFXmasks.com, I had the feeling that he would be more of a historical figure, similar to either Xiphon, or Richard. The feeling grew stronger the more times I put him on. I also used part of my urethane muscle suit to bulk up a bit and with the bib, I could achieve the effect of being bare beneath a shirt. Rusty did a bang-up job with the chest on this one! The neck on the mask is very snug, which also permitted me to wear something around my neck - this only added to the historical feeling of the character I was creating. The wig was a custom-made job with extensions in the front and sides to give a super-natural (pardon the pun) hairline.
I had recently seen the old Rex Harrison version of "The Ghost and Mrs. Muir" and this was the catalyst for the story. There's nothing like a good old-fashioned black-and-white melodrama to get your creative juices flowing!
The breakup - let's see ... Often times, there is some autobiographical influence in my stories, and this is no exception. All good things must come to an end, and in early February, the boyfriend and I parted ways.
