Chapter 3
POV OF ASHER
“I would do horrible things to your colon,” Sebastian tells his date.
His date smiles,
“Prove it.”
I'm walking behind those two.
Tyson is behind me. We've left the bar at that moment. I watch as
Sebastian is squeezing this guy's ass. The guy was Tyson's friend.
I'm looking at Sebastian and realize that he is acting how I would
usually be acting in this situation. Even the way he pulls the guy
away down a dark alley seems to be something I would do.
“You got a
---”
I pull out a condom and hand it to him, “Hurry
up please...”
Sebastian takes the XL magnum, “Damn
you don't got anything...smaller...”
I keep forgetting.
Sebastian's dick isn't as big as mine. I laugh a little bit but
shake my head no. I swear his date is sizing me up at that moment
probably thinking that he's about to get fucked by the wrong guy.
Sebastian shrugs probably thinking he'll make it work and probably
too horny to give a fuck about how the condom fits. He pulls the guy
into the dark alley in downtown Los Angeles.
“OH FUCK ME!
FUCK ME HARD YO. DAM LONG DICK THAT ASS!”
“WHOSE
ASS IS THAT?”
“Uh---what's your name
again?”
“Sebastian.”
“IT'S
SEBASTIAN'S ASS!” Sebastian's date is screaming at the top of
his lungs.
It's awkward as fuck to say the least. I take a
few steps away from the alley. It's even more awkward because people
are walking by leaving the gay bar but Sebastian is probably too
drunk to give a fuck and I owe it to him to be a good wing's man.
There have been many a dark alley night with a random hook up for me
as well.
“Those two seem to be having fun...” Tyson tells me.
Tyson licks his
lips. He's sexy. He has always been sexy to me. He's just a little
bit shorter than me. He's masculine. He has a Caesar cut and
pearly white teeth that are contract perfectly to his dark skin. He
is into football and has on a jersey. We met years back at a sports
bar actually. I was staring at his ass when he jumped up because his
team got touchdown. I ended up being the one scoring that night.
“Yeah. They're having a ball,” I let him know.
“I'm
saying---there's another alley two blocks down,” Tyson lets me
know, “I'm just trying to figure out how I can incorporate the
Vicadins I took tonight. I'm feeling real relaxed. I'm pretty sure
I can make your dick touch my lung.”
I know this
street. I know every alley a little bit too well. Tyson has some
nice dick sucking lips. He has those lips that made you think he
used to go to town on a pacifier when he was kid. A part of me wants
to shove my thick 10 inch dick down his esophagus and test his gag
reflex.
I wonder if Diamonte sucks dick. He probably thinks he's too classy to do that.
Why the fuck am I
thinking about Diamonte right now?
“I'm kind of not in
the mood,” I respond.
“Asher? Not in the mood for sex?” Tyson laughs, “I never thought I'd see the day. Asher's grown up...damn man!”
“I wouldn't say all that. I just...have a lot on my mind that's all,” I respond.
Like the fact
that I think I killed a guy.
“Aw shit. So
you're still the same Asher who broke up with me by cheating on me
with my sister and her husband?”
He's not laughing about it this time. I'm sure he's still sore about it. Tyson was damn near suicidal for a while after that. I literally had to send Sebastian to talk to him every night.
I look over at
Tyson, “Oh yeah...I'm sorry about that.”
“All
because I told you loved you the night before,” Tyson shakes
his head, “Were those words really all that scary?”
“Listen. I'm not the commitment type,” I explain to him.
“Really,
because we vibed so well. We spent everyday together. Sex was
everything. We did everything together. We had so much in
common...”
“Listen Tyson. Maybe that's the
problem,” I respond, “Maybe I'm not looking for someone I
have so much in common with...”
“Then what are you
looking for?”
I didn't know. I stand there for a moment
thinking about it. Tyson is still in love with me. He's probably
too proud to tell me it again but the way he's looking at me scares
me. There is so much hope there. I mean I broke his heart on
purpose. I literally went out of his way to sleep with his sister
and her husband because I felt like that was the only way Tyson would
end our relationship. I was too much of a pussy to end it myself.
You would think that would be enough. No. Years later Tyson is
hitting up my best friend because he misses 'us'.
Sebastian
comes out of the alley followed by his date who looks like he's a
little dazed and confused.
“Finished?” I ask him.
“Yeah,”
he responds. He doesn't have that happy look of excitement in his
eyes. I know Sebastian isn't the type to do hookups. He always
feels like shit afterwards. He looks like he wants to take a million
showers right now. It's always kind of funny to see his face after
sex.
I nod glad that I
can use this as an excuse, “Tyson, listen I should get
Sebastian home. He's a little fucked up.”
Sebastian
looks at me with a raised eyebrow, “What boy? I'm
good...”
“See...” I lie, “He's
slurring already. Gotta go. Bye. I'll call you---”
I
get away from Tyson pulling Sebastian with me. Tyson is sexy. He is
everything. Anyone would be proud to call him their boyfriend. Hell
I was proud at a point to call him my boyfriend. That wasn't the
scary part. The scary part was the next step. The scary part was
love. I wasn't in love with Tyson and for some reason---I couldn't
fake it.
=======================
Two days pass and I
still can't take my fucking mind of Diamonte Rose and the murder.
For some reason my mind has intertwined the two things. I can't
think of the murder without thinking about Diamonte. I can't think
of Diamonte without thinking about the murder. I left him at the bar
that day in the bathroom. I keep wondering why he is offering me a
job. I keep wondering if I did the right thing by turning him down.
I mean he is the face of B&R. He could skyrocket my career. But
then there is the murder. Any involvement in that could end my life.
I can't be around Diamonte. I've made up my mind. He is
right however. I do need to throw myself into work which is why I
head over to Lauren Gene's Jeans.
“Lauren...what's
popping!”
I run in there. LG Jeans were my first gig.
It's a small local jean company that has only one location. They
don't pay much but they pay something plus Lauren has a big ass crush
on me. She is a pretty girl too and honestly when I was younger I
may or may not have let her jack me off during one of her annual
calendar shoots. Ever since then I was always Mr. October.
Lauren working with some other models doing some fittings. I see a couple of the guys that I recognize. Jason Crew, Lonnie Apples, Xi Chang and Brody Matthews are all there. I wave at the guys and for some reason the guys don't wave back. They look at each other as though confused about something. It's a little strange. Usually models don't get shady until they actually have made it. We were all struggling and they knew I got this gig literally 'handed' to me every October regardless.
“Asher---wh, what are you doing here?” Lauren asks with a broken smile.
“Um...it's
the annual LG calendar campaign. What do you mean what am I doing
here?” I ask taking my shirt off at that moment, “I'm
doing the same thing I've done for the last three
years.”
“Actually---you aren't.”
Brody
Matthews breaks out into laughter. I stare at the other male models.
Some are struggling not to laugh. Others are barely hiding how
amused they are. At this moment I don't know what's going on but
it's not hard to see the jokes on me.
“Lauren is
this about me being...” I say leaning in towards her at that
moment to whisper, “Gay...”
“Oh be real.
Most of the male models in LA are,” she rolls her eyes, “You
think I give a shit about that. If you're sexy, you're sexy.”
At
that moment I grab onto my crotch. The imprint of my dick is in my
jeans. She looks at it. The desire is clearly there. It hasn't
gone anywhere.
I lick my lips
and lean up against her, “I thought we had...you know, an
agreement...”
“Listen. You're sexy and all that
and I'd suck your dick until I taste the rainbows like skittles,”
she acknowledges but shrugs her shoulders, “But you've been
blacklisted.”
“Come again.”
“Blacklisted
like---shut out---it's a term that means---”
“I'm
a model, I'm not an idiot,” I stop her, “I know what
blacklisted means. What I don't understand is why the hell I'm
blacklisted.”
“Word of mouth. You made some
enemies in some real high places,” she responds before shaking
her head and adding lightly, “Honestly...he's an enemy that I'd
rather not make.”
“Who...” I say but then
pause, “Let me guess. Diamonte Rose?”
She shrugs
and does this weird motion with her head, “I am not saying any
names but some roses do have thorns. You should have handled with
care.”
I can't believe this. I ignore the laughing
models and storm out of this place. This shit is not happening. I
find myself calling my agent. Conveniently he isn't picking up his
phone and his secretary tells me that she doesn't know when he'll be
around. This is the same guy who worked 24/7 thinking that I'm going
to be the next Tyson Beckford. Since when does he not answer my
phone calls.
I find myself
calling contact after contact.
All of the same. They are
either avoiding me or they are just telling me weird things like “I
can't work with you right now” or “I'll have to get back
to you on that”. These are small companies. Small basic
companies.
Then I realize Diamonte is powerful. He's more powerful than I gave him credit for.
By the end of
the week I realize I have no choice but to do what I have to do. I
end up walking into Diamonte Rose's office. I'm sweating bricks.
Last time I talked to him I'd told I'd never worked for him but now I
was showing up at the B&R office in downtown Los Angeles. I try
to dress nice throwing on a blazer and some LG Jeans that Lauren let
me keep from one of the shoots. The last thing I need is the King of
Shade reading me to oblivion.
The building is huge...it's classically beautiful to the point that I can walk in and tell that it's a fashion building. I mean it's literally one of the nicest buildings I've ever seen in my life. The architecture is all fancy and modern looking. All the people I swear must be models. It's kind of intimidating not knowing if I'm the most beautiful person in the room.
“Excuse
me...I'm here to see---”
“Third floor. Suite
210,” the woman at the front reception stated before handing me
a guest pass, “He's expecting you but if I were you I'd still
knock.”
She barely looks up from her desk. He was
expecting me? She has to be talking about Diamonte. The fact
that he has a guest badge laid out on the front desk is even more
intimidating. Damn. Can you say control freak?
I get up to the third floor using the badge she gave me to activate the elevator. When I walk onto the third floor I realize it's an all white suite. There are touches of deep beautiful magenta in the paintings and decorum around the office. Everything else is white though. I feel like if I touch anything I might get it dirty or something.
I see the door.
Suite 210 and knock.
Someone comes to
open it. I recognize the woman. She's the same woman who came to my
door.
“My name is Neverland.”
“Seriously?”
I ask. What kind of name is that.
She ignores my
interest, “Right this way please.”
Neverland walks
me into the room. That is where I see him. He's posted up with a
portfolio in his hand and glasses. As usual he's doing work. I've
never seen this guy not doing work. Diamonte has on a dramatic gray
blazer that is cut in a futuristic way. It is designed with precise
folds that give the illusion of a three-dimensional shape.
Underneath his dramatic gray blazer is a plain gray effect that seems
to balance everything out. To add color to his outfit, he has some
expensive looking red pointed toe shoes. It literally looks like he
is wearing a million dollars. My eyes are glued onto him as he
confidently looks at his portfolio. I don't think I ever stared at
someone so hard. It's not even how attractive he is. Every person I
ever dated, fucked or even entertained is probably more attractive
than Diamonte Rose...physically. But there is something else about
him. There is something so much deeper that makes me so into him. I
swear this man's style is to die for. Who dresses like this just to
go to work?
“I figured you would show up,” he
tells me, “Took you long enough.”
“You
blacklisted me?” I ask, “Really?”
“I
get what I want,” he explains with a smile, “You just
seem to be in this season.”
“Jesus Christ.
Diamonte...”
“Mr. Rose,” Neverland corrects
me.
I ignore his
assistant and look over at Diamonte, “Mr. Rose, I'm not a
trend...”
“Everything
that matters is a trend,” he responds relatively quickly before
dropping the portfolio he was looking at on the table, “Take a
look at that. Tell me what comes to mind.”
I look at
the folder he leaves on the table. I'm confused. He's asking me my
opinion. I pick up the portfolio and open it. That's when I see it.
I realize this isn't a portfolio. These are police photos of the
body of Alexander Bautista!
Chapters 3.2
===================================
POV of DIAMONTE
“This is...” Asher starts saying but stop because he realize Neverland is standing right there.
I cross my arms,
“You can talk. All the living furniture signs non-disclosure
agreements before they start. She knows everything...”
It
takes him a while before he realizes I'm referring to Neverland as
the living furniture. I watch as he scrolls through the pictures of
the portfolio. He's weak. He can barely look at them. He throws
them onto the table, takes a moment to himself and then hides the
fact that he's terrified behind a weak sense of humor.
“You sure know the way to a man's heart. Pictures of your ex husband's dead body. I think I'm falling for you Diamonte Rose.”
“You might want to get the fuck up,” I warn him.
Asher sighs a little
bit, “I thought you said you were going to handle this. I
thought you said that...you know...the body was taken care of.”
“I thought so too,” I say rolling my eyes, “Unfortunately I'm surrounded by idiots who can't even hide bodies. I swear sometimes I sit there and wonder how the models I hire stay alive. I barely see them eat. Now I'm sure it's become clear that they eat at their own brains.”
Neverland looks over
at me, “Sir...”
“Why are you still here?”
I ask, “Get my publicist and my lawyer on the phone. Release a
statement about how sad and distraught and blah, blah, blah. Why are
you still here? Move. 2 seconds have passed bitch...I BETTER HEAR
THE SOUND OF DESPERATE HEELS!”
Neverland is out of the room within 5 seconds. I can see that Asher is worried. To be honest this is more pesty than I originally intended.
He isn't smiling and when I make my way around my table to him I realize that Asher is very serious as he sits in my office. He is thinking. He's worried. He looks like he's about to have another panic attack. That's something that I can't afford right now.
“It's over,”
Asher is saying, “We're going to jail. Either I'm going to end
up someone's bottom in cell block D or I'm going to have to shank
motherfuckas. How the fuck do you make a shank? Oh my god---I don't
know how to make a fucking shank. Does Siri teach you how to make a
shank? OH MY GOD---is there Siri in prison?”
He's
gotten up. He's pacing back and forward. The boy is attractive I'll
give him that and he manages to maintain his masculinity even though
he has completely started acting like a bitch. I cross my arms and
shake my head.
“The plan
has changed,” I tell him, “You're panicking. You're
worried.”
“NO SHIT!”
He probably
forgets where he is. He probably forgets who he's talking to. I
don't mind. I follow Asher until he slows down enough for me to grab
him. I grab onto his muscular bicep and hold him still. I look in
his eyes. This is the closest we've ever been. His slanted eyes
stare into mine and we exchange a moment that makes me a little
uncomfortable.
I quickly let
him go. I usually don't let those moments happen and I'm confused on
what passed between us in that quick second.
Back to business.
“Things
are going to go relatively fast from here. They may find some
evidence but I have the best lawyers. The best part about this
is...we won't even need them. No one knows you were on the scene. I
have an alibi. People will suspect me but I work in the fashion
industry darlin', murder is a walk in the park for me.”
His breathing is
easing. I wonder if I'm comforting him somehow.
“What
if something goes wrong?”
I shake my head, “Nothing
will go wrong. Look at me. I gave Alexander Bautista life. You
know who he was before me? A rich nobody. Money doesn't mean
anything. I gave him meaning. I gave him life. So it's OK if you
took it away. It's ok because I say it's OK and I gave him life.
And you know what---Asher Aquino?”
He pauses. He's
hesitating. You'd think I was a viper by how he was staring at me
but he doesn't move away. As afraid as he is he seems to be edging
closer to me...closer and closer. He's staring at my lips as I talk.
I wonder why.
“What?” he asks.
His breath smells
like peppermint. His full lips are perfect. Kissable. So kissable.
He is moving closer and closer. His eyes are afraid but his body is
intrigued.
Now what kind of snake charmer isn't afraid of a viper?
“I gave
Alexander Bautista life. I can do the same for you.”
“Why?
Why would you do that for me?” he asks me with a suspicious
look in his eyes.
I shrug, “This
murder has glued us together for right now. It's best if we stick
together. It's best if we are there for one another. So will you
let me? Will you let me give you life---Asher?”
He
nods. He seems so hesitant. He seems so unsure but he's gotten so
close as well. He is so close that our lips are inches away from
each other. He could kiss me right now and for a moment I think he
is about to. For a moment I kind of want him to.
“Yes...”
I've
never felt this kind of passion. I wonder if he feels the same.
There is something about this strange model that is different from
the other beautiful faces.
That's when he does it. He leans
in. He leans in at that moment and he kisses me. His lips press up
against mine. His lips are so soft. They are like pressing on soft
pillows. I push against them. I taste them. They are so sweet.
It's the best kiss I've ever had in my life. And for a moment I
forget where I am. For a moment I forget WHO I am.
I let this model
start to put his hand around my waist. He's staring to pull me in
close---own me. And I'm smart enough to pull away just in time. I'm
smart to pull away before he gets too close.
“You have
a desk right outside of my office. It's right next to Neverland's.
She'll be able to help you if you need anything.”
“That
kiss was---”
It was everything. I'd never felt anything like that. It was a great experiences. I was too busy too have too many great experiences though. I know my heart is beating fast. I think his might be as well. Maybe that's why he's staring at me like is right now. It'd be easy to kiss him again. I'm too busy though...far too busy to be interrupted.
“I know.
It was good. Thanks for that. I have some work to do.”
“That's
it?” he asks.
“What else do
you want? I have to write a speech for the company meeting still to
announce Alexander's passing. I have a line to prepare for. I have
to get ready to take on complete ownership of B&R with Alexander
passing. Everything is about to be mine.”
I deserved it. This was my dream. This was what I worked for. As much as I enjoyed the kiss I didn't have the time to enjoy it too much. A second of two of passion was more than enough. Now it was back to work. I'm back at my desk. I'm writing up the letter. I have to find a way to show emotion but not too much emotion. This is a business not a motherfucking wake.
That is when I'm interrupted by none other than
“Yo...you felt
that. You had to feel what I just felt,” Asher says.
I'm
shocked that Asher is still in the room. He is staring me in my
eyes. It looks like he wants something from me. I'm not sure what
it is. He's. Still. Talking. About. The. Kiss.
“You're
still here?” I ask him.
“Do you have
any idea who would want to hurt your husband?”
I schedule 30 minutes to talk to the police investigators about my husband's death. It's all the time I'm willing to give this matter. The officer is an attractive gentleman. His name is Detective Brody. He isn't model attractive but more attractive for a 35, run of the mill guy who was OK on the eyes. He's tacky and it's distracting. His cheap tie, his worn out pant suit that is just way too baggy and his the fact that he hasn't shaved in a few days are distracting me.
“I don't
know.”
“You don't know if your husband had
enemies?”
“Enemies are only enemies if you
acknowledge them,” I respond, “Some people say I have
enemies. I think they are just fans who don't know it yet.”
“There
were no signs of forced entry.”
“We keep our door
open. We live in a very safe neighborhood,” I respond.
“The body was moved out of your home,” the police officer states, “And buried. If someone wanted to kill your husband they definitely seemed comfortable enough to take the time to bury your husband.”
My lawyer jumps in,
“I'm sorry Detective but is that a question or an
insinuation?”
Detective Brody stares at me for a long
time, “Neither. I was just wondering. Were you aware, Mr.
Rose that between 2005 and 2010, 60 percent of all violent injuries
in this country were inflicted by loved ones or acquaintances. And 60
percent of the time those victimizations happened in the
home.”
“Well then you have a huge job on your
hands Detective Brody.”
“Why is that Mr.
Rose?”
“As far as loved ones, my husband was a man
whore. The list of his lovers is a mile long. And his acquaintances
are even longer. You see we are Very Important People. And we're
very popular. Either people want to be us or they want to kill us.”
“That's all
the questions for now to my client,” my lawyer states.
“I'm sorry I have another engagement,” I explain, “Feel free to ask my lawyer any other questions and keep in contact if I can of any other assistance.”
“One last
question sir.”
“Of course, Detective.”
“Is
it true that you stand to inherit your husband's half of the company
now that he's dead making you the sole owner of Bautista and Rose?”
I nod at that
moment, “I guess...I'm blessed.”
I get out of
there.
I do have somewhere else I have to be. I have to be
there relatively fast.
As I walk out of the room I see
Alessa. She's been standing outside of my office being held back by
my main assistants, Neverland. Luckily Neverland had her own army of
assistants who were able to hold Alessa back.
“You did
this! YOU DID THIS!” Alessa is screaming at me, “I know
you did this! YOU can fool them. You can't fool me.”
I expect no
less.
“Alessa...you know with your brother gone I think you should take some time off to mourn,” I state, “Permantly.”
Alessa's eyes
grow wide.
“Excuse me?”
“Ladies,
please hand Alessa her letter of termination and escort her off of
the premises.”
Watching 10 models trying to usher out a
woman the size of several small island in the Caribbean had to be one
of the most interesting things I've seen a while. I stand there
enjoying the moment that Alessa Bautista is finally being fired. I'd
waited years to see her clawing at the elevators doors and being
exited out of the building.
It's such a
sincere moment---almost brings tears to my eyes.
Only I
don't cry.
Tears were for children and fools.
“You look like
you're in a good mood,” a voice says.
I turn to see
Asher. He's standing there with his eyes glued on me. I wonder if
he watched the entire scene. I have to admit walking out of my
office and seeing sexy ass Asher was something I could get used to.
I never really hired any male models to work for me because Alexander
ended up fucking them all. Not that Asher didn't fuck my dead
husband but at least he was able to kill him in the process. I guess
that counted for something.
“Better.”
“What
are you up to?”
“Well I have to find a way to make
sure Remus Bautista is working on my line and not spending all his
time mourning his brother,” I explain, “Then I have to
hire a new VP of Finance. I have fire half of the idiots my husband
had working here. I literally have to revamp this entire company
and...”
“How about dinner?”
I look
over at Asher. I'm shocked and confused...
“Did you
just hear what I said?”
Asher nods and shrugs, “Yeah
and I pretty much don't give a fuck.”
“Listen I'm
not one of these little boys that follow you around obsessed with the
ground you walk on and changes their entire lives because you look
the way you do,” I tell him.
Asher smiles. He has the prettiest natural teeth I've ever seen in my life.
“I know and
that's why I'm asking you on a date.”
A date.
Why
am I so nervous about it?
“Is that
what you're doing?” I ask.
Asher looks at
me. He licks his lips. There is something so sensual about the way
he does it. The way he is glaring at me is almost like he is glaring
into my soul. It scares me. It worries me. It bothered me. I am
completely drowned into this moment.
“Yeah...I'm asking you on a date,” Asher stated.
And just when I thought I was defeated by nothing.
“I...” I start off.
Am I stumbling? Me?
Diamonte Rose?
Asher catches it, “Am I making you
nervous Mr. Rose? Not up for this challenge.”
“Don't
be stupid. When Neverland comes back her clear my schedule. I'll do
this...date...thing.”
I walk away and realize Asher is looking at my ass as I do.
I swallow my spit.
So strange.
I realize the idea of a date with Asher scares me much, much, much more than the idea of murder.
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