Nightcrawler (Trackers #1)

Chapter Twenty-Two

MIGUEL

I ended up doing the dishes myself while Raven put his grandmother to bed. Something about her reminded me of my own maternal grandmother who’d died when I was just a boy. I couldn’t remember my maternal grandfather since he’d passed away from kidney disease before I was born. My paternal grandparents had lived in Mexico before they died shortly after my parents had been killed. I’d spoken to them only a few times on the phone after that, back then my Spanish wasn’t that great, but they’d always seemed nice. My abuelo had died about a year after the murders and my abuela had followed, six months later. Both, I suspected, from a hard life and broken hearts.

I had no other family…my older brother dead before my conception. As I thought of the beautiful man in the next room, my best friend, Vonne, and the men who’d be gathering to help me tomorrow, I realized, I’d made a new family for myself, and it made me warm with happiness.

My thoughts turned to the reviews I’d been reading as Raven had driven us home and I grinned to myself. The names of some of these books were hysterical… Raisin in my Bum…Mime and Punishment . I got a chuckle just from the titles.

Book title: Mime and Punishment

Author: Michel Banier

Publisher: Self-published

Genre: Crime/mystery/action

Review/rating by Nightcrawler: 5 stars

Synopsis:

This book takes place in eighteenth century France, set concurrent with Napoleon’s endless campaigns to conquer Europe. It’s the story of a downtrodden mime who lives hand to mouth on the streets of Paris. He desires only anonymity as he commits the horrific crime of murder over and over. What he can’t seem to understand is that the reason he is constantly accused comes from his recognizable attire of white face, white gloves, black pants with suspenders, and a shirt patterned with horizontal black and white stripes.

My Review:

Jesus Christ. I wish I was illiterate.

I could leave my review at that single sentence, but I don’t think I would be properly explaining why I gave this book or the literary giant, Michel Banier, the negative five stars they deserve. From the opening lines of the book, I wanted to pull out my mother’s pin cushion and begin shoving a series of needles into my eyes. I will state here that this book has been translated from its original French to English, but I don’t think that’s the reason it’s so bad. I had a fluent French speaking friend read the book for the accuracy of the translation. He brought it back to me a week later and told me that but for a few errors here and there, it was accurate…before asking to borrow my mother’s pin cushion.

The mime in question is named Francois and is portrayed in an oddly sympathetic way from the first lines of the book. He is starving, trying to pursue his profession of mime to make money, but constantly gets pummeled with rotten fruit while working. Angry and confused, he wanders the streets, taking out his rage by committing murder. The crimes share an ever-increasing viciousness which vomits out onto the page, leaving the reader confused and nauseous.

The only thing—and I say this with all seriousness—I liked about this book, was a side character, Marie, who is a prostitute who takes Francois in and cleans the filthy white makeup off his face before helping him reapply it. It was almost sweet how she tried to make him see the error of his ways as he describes how guilty he feels about what he’s doing. But I was left wondering if it was true remorse or just his way of keeping Marie close when he knows he’s being pursued by a police inspector who has made it a priority to catch the killer.

I will warn potential readers here that the book is depressing as hell, so only if you’re contemplating suicide and have been on the fence about it for a while, would I suggest you read it, thus my negative five-star rating, a new low…even for me. Honestly, every book ever written is better than this, so only if you hate yourself, should you pick up Mime and Punishment.

Raven came in as I was washing the last of the pans we’d use to cook the shrimp. He’d cooked it perfectly, just until it turned pink so that his nana could chew it thoroughly before trying to swallow. He’d told me she had trouble sometimes, and I’d seen him watching her like a hawk every time she took a bite. She hadn’t eaten any of the chicken, which I suspected was for her own safety.

“Hey,” Raven said, sliding his arms around me and kissing my ear. I liked the fact that he was almost as tall as me. We fit together very well. “Sorry I wasn’t here to help clean up. I really wanted to spend a little time with her. I guess Ned’s comment that I ignored her cut deeper than I’d first thought.”

I leaned into his kiss as it trailed down my neck. “You know he’s a piece of shit and I never want you to think of him again. Cassidy and Mike did an awesome job in finding out the truth about him.”

“I agree.” He paused and kissed my ear. “I read my nana the latest review. She likes them.” He laughed softly.

“ Raisin in my Bum ?” I asked, grinning. “Yeah, that was a classic.” I set the pan in the dishrack, dried my hands, and turned in his arms, returning his hug. “I don’t know how you come up with this stuff, Raven, or how the hell you find the books you do. There has to be a secret to finding the world’s worst stories.”

He laughed. “It’s no secret. A while back, I found a blog which listed some and then another blog and another. It’s surprising how many blogs post about comically terrible books. So, now, all I have to do is email an author and a lot of the time, they send me a paperback.”

That surprised me. “Do you tell them who you are? Do you actually tell them that you review under the name Nightcrawler on Bestreads?”

“Hell yeah. They love it,” he said with a grin. “And a lot of authors contact me directly, offering to send me their book. Most of them aren’t complete idiots and they expect low star ratings, so as long as I promise to review it on my Bestreads blog injecting humor, they send me copies. A lot of these authors brag about having a book which is being featured on Bestreads. It’s gotten me a huge number of followers.”

I narrowed my eyes. “How many followers do you have?”

He looked up at the ceiling as he thought for a few seconds. When he glanced back down, he looked like a guilty little boy. I wanted to laugh because his expression was priceless. “The last time I checked, I had close to two-hundred thousand.”

I was speechless for a few seconds before blurting, “Two-hundred thousand followers?” I let go of him and stepped back, bumping into the sink. “Are you shitting me?” I ran my fingers through my hair.

He grinned, shaking his head. “No.”

“No wonder authors send you books. Your reviews, good or bad, give them free advertising.”

He nodded, wearing a tiny smile. “It does, and authors have told me that when I add in the humor, it actually boosts their sales…so it’s not so bad for them.”

“ Huh …a win-win. Interesting.”

He nodded and reached down to take my hand. “Now, I think it’s time to spend a little more horizontal time together.”

That sounded like a great idea to me.

“Let me grab some clothes from the boxes in the garage,” I said. “It’ll only take a second.”

“I’ll help.”

After opening a couple of boxes, I found my clothes and pulled out a clean pair of jeans as well as a pair of black cargo pants, and several tees and pairs of socks. He kept digging and when I asked him what for, he just grinned.

“I was looking for underwear.” He straightened. “I… ah …forgot for a second that you enjoy chafing.”

I huffed. “For your information, I don’t chafe.”

“It’s no wonder, what with that bush you have down there.” He pointed at my zipper.

I laughed, covering the obvious bulge in my jeans. “I keep them minimally trimmed but then again, you’re hairless all over. I don’t think you have a single pubic hair.”

He laughed. “I have them.” He was indignant. “I just trim them up niiice and smooth. It makes my dick look bigger anyway.” He glanced down at my groin as I chuckled.

“Trust me, there’s no need to do that. Your…assets…are plenty ‘big.’”

“I guess you don’t have the whole trimming your pubes to make your ‘assets’ bigger problem, do you?” Raven asked.

He was flirting with me, and I loved it. “Nope.”

“Fine, don’t be surprised if I take a weedwhacker to them while you’re asleep one night.”

I laughed and then smiled at him, curling my fingers in his, as he led me out of the garage and through the kitchen. I averted my eyes from the china cabinet when we walked past, as I’d been doing all night, and focused all my attention on Raven. He led me straight to his bedroom which was exactly where I wanted to be. I’d been dreaming of having him naked in my arms all day. Though neither of us had put voice to our desires to curl up in Raven’s bed together, the guest room he’d offered the first night was never mentioned again.

We walked into the room, and I opened the drawer he’d offered, neatly laying my clothes inside. I was still a Marine after all. When I turned around, his arm was raised, and he was sniffing his pits. He put it down when he caught me looking. “What? I stink. Would you help me with a bandage change after I shower?”

“Of course, and just in case you miss any areas too tender to reach, I think I should help you out with that shower.”

He walked over and kissed me, smiling as our lips parted. “You have the best ideas.”

I helped him off with his T-shirt, noting that he was right, the Tegaderm front and back had begun to lift, which meant it was time to change the bandage. I was eager to get a look at the wounds anyway. When we were both naked and obviously interested in this new development judging by the way our cocks were already half hard, we stepped into his gorgeous white marble shower. I pretended not to notice the condom and lube Raven set on a shelf, smiling to myself, and grabbed his green tea and lemongrass shower gel to begin helping him find all the stinky places on him.

His skin was smooth under my palms as I traced the muscles of his chest and abs. I noticed the barbells were once again absent but then again, he probably had done that this morning before he’d dressed since they’d show through the thin, cotton T-shirt he’d been wearing. Even though I missed them, I gave each nipple special attention, pulling, twisting, and tweaking as we made out like horny teenagers which by now, I knew he liked. When I was done with that, I turned him face first to the tile and began soaping his back, only avoiding the small bandages. Raven’s shoulders were nearly as broad as mine and his ass was a thing of beauty, perfectly tight and very round, like every porn star’s butt I’d ever admired.

After paying special attention to it, soaping over the taut globes, I slid my fingers into his crack. I breathed heavily by his ear, knowing the shiver that it’d elicit, and circled my fingers around his hole with the shower gel before washing him clean. I set the bottle down at his feet before kneeling on the tile and spreading him wide open.

I’d had this done to me before, but I’d never felt close enough to anyone to do something so intimate to them. There was always a first time, however, and I figured that all the gay porn I’d watched over the years might just have served more purpose than it’d been given credit for. I stared at his beautiful hole and leaned in, licking over it. He immediately groaned and widened his legs, and I was reassured somehow the soft thump I heard against the tile wall was his forehead. I grinned for just a second and then licked over his little hole again, loving the way he clenched around it as I slid my tongue inside. He groaned again and I admit, the sound of it went straight to my cock, especially when I realized he’d taken himself in hand and was stroking his own rigid dick.

I spent several minutes sucking and licking his ass, giving him quite a thorough rim job before snatching up the bottle of lube and using the slick to work my fingers inside him, one at a time until he was taking three easily. His moans had turned to groans which had turned to begging and by the time I stood up, my knees were stamped with indentations from the tile, and he was more than ready for me. I grabbed the condom wrapper and opened it, rolling it on, and coating my length with lube. I knew it wouldn’t take much to slide into him since he was already open just from my fingers, but I wanted us to come together. I knew he was more than ready for me if he was feeling anything close to the way I was, leaking from just having my mouth on him.

“Ready, Sunshine?” I asked, breathless.

“Yesss,” he hissed, nodding.

I pressed into him, slipping the head of my dick into him as he braced himself against the tile. As I slid farther inside, his body gripped me like a tight fist. It was hard to imagine anything hotter than fucking him like this with water sluicing down over our bodies from the waterfall showerhead above. The warmth and steam from the closed room just added to the overall sexiness of our environment. I pulled out and then rammed back in, dragging a deep, guttural groan out of him. I did it again and this time he pushed back against me.

“Jesus, Miguel,” he said. “Just like that…you’re not going to hurt me.”

I leaned in and whispered in his ear, “You like it hard, don’t you, Raven?” I asked, even as I slammed into him again.

“Yes!”

Left free to do what we both wanted, I took him right there against the tile. I pounded into him hard, slamming in and out of his hot body which welcomed me, knowing that we were totally alone here, in our own world to explore our deepest desires. I reached around him and pinched his nipples as I fucked him hard, pulling gasps out of him, even as I used my fingers to pinch him until he whimpered. The way he submitted to me was the hottest thing of all, bracing himself against the wall as if he wanted nothing else…to be fucked hard standing up, which was hotter than anything I could have imagined.

I knew he was close as my body began its own slow rise to climax. He reached for his cock and began stroking, and I grabbed him, one hand on his chest, the other on his hip, holding on, determined to fuck him through it. “That’s it, Sunshine,” I grunted in his ear. “Jack yourself off and let me feel you clamp down on me.”

He nodded, and I fucked into him harder as he stroked himself off, panting against the wall. With every pump of his fist, he came closer…with every thrust into him, I did. The long, slow rise to climax ended abruptly as he cried out, emptying his balls against the shower wall. The way his ass clamped down on my dick as he came was like he’d pulled a trigger in me, and I cried out his name as I shot spunk into the condom buried deep in his body. My own body shuddered as if being struck with the force of an electric shock.

Coming inside Raven was the most incredible feeling I’d ever experienced and by the time we both stopped moving, I felt like a limp dishrag. I know he did, because he slumped against the wall, heaving in great gasps of air as relentless streams of water continued to pound down on us. I pulled out, holding the base of the condom, then dropped it onto the floor of the shower. I gently spun him around and kissed him until my heart stopped racing and he quieted in my arms.

RAVEN

Miguel and I dried off and he made me lie on the bed to change the bandages after our shower…after he’d fucked me boneless in the shower. I was only too happy to have him do the work it took to tend to the task since the muscles in my thighs were still rippling from the effort it had taken to stand while he fucked me. As he checked the wounds, he marveled at how well they’d closed, applying another coating of antibiotic ointment before covering them up with gauze and sticky Tegaderm. I lay there reflecting on how perfectly we fit together.

I languidly stroked his thick hair, loving how silky it felt in my fingers as he knelt at the side of my bed and bandaged me. I couldn’t imagine how blessed I felt to have found such a good, brave, passionate man. I still marveled at how showing him such a small thing as love had broken through the thick shell he’d built up to protect himself during the long, lonely years he’d spent in darkness.

Because it was love filling my heart. I could only hope he felt it too.

He took my hand and pulled me up to a sitting position before he sat back on his heels. The worry in the tiny lines on his heavily stubbled cheeks took me off guard. Miguel had a way of doing that. Our eyes met for a moment before he ducked his head, but I reached out and lifted his chin with one finger. “What is it?”

The concern in his brown eyes was clear. “I guess I went a little hard at you in there.”

I blew out a relieved breath and smiled at him. “Baby…Miguel…I asked for it. You can’t blame yourself for something I wanted.”

He stood, the towel around his waist at eye level as I looked up. He lifted his hand and ran his fingers through his hair in the nervous gesture I’d come to love. “But you’re hurt, Raven. I just can’t seem to control myself, even when I know I should, because every time I see you, all I want to do is kiss you and that inevitably turns to wanting to do what I did and—”

I scrambled off the bed, standing before him as I covered his mouth with my hand to shut him up, immediately replacing it with my lips and wrapping my arms around him. He kissed me back passionately, and little by little, I felt the tension leave his body. When I thought he’d gotten the message, I broke the kiss. “Knock it off.”

“Knock what off?” His words were ragged with emotion, his brown eyes searching mine.

“You…Miguel.” I poked his chest. “Stop punishing yourself for something I wanted.” I grinned at him, moving past, and dropping the towel as I rummaged for clean sleeping shorts. I tossed a pair of mine at him, hitting him in the chest and noticed him chuckling as I pulled my own shorts on.

“You do have a way with words, Raven.”

“Put those on. I have a project for you, and I think you’ll like it.”

He frowned, holding the shorts up as he waggled his eyebrows. “I don’t think I’ll like the project I have in mind…not with these on.”

I laughed, ignoring him as I walked to the bookshelf beside my dresser. I looked at the paperbacks, searching for the one I’d finished the week before meeting Miguel, and pulled it off the shelf. I spun back to him, pointing to the bed.

“Your project involves the bed and a book,” he said, understanding blooming as his eyes brightened.

I nodded.

“O-kaaay,” he said, climbing under the covers.

I climbed in after him. “For your information, I finished this before I met you, but I haven’t gotten around to writing the review.” I held it out, and he read the title before looking up at me with a grin.

“ A Side with Prejudice ?” he asked, chuckling at the title.

“Yes!” I said, practically bouncing on the bed.

He laughed. “Are you telling me that you want me to sit here while you write a review of this book?”

“Not sit here exactly. I want you to write it with me.”

He took the book from me. “I haven’t even read it and if I’m guessing by this author’s name, it’s kind of boring.”

I stared at him, slightly dumbfounded. “You can tell what a book is about from the author’s name!” I went on. “William Shakespeare didn’t write plays about shakes or spears, and to stay on topic, they certainly weren’t boring .” I looked at his expression and laughed. “Okay, some were really boring…but not all of them.”

He chuckled. “But undoubtedly, some were.”

I snorted. “Well, like I said, some were, but it’s probably a good thing Shakespeare never realized he could be a total bore then. He certainly wouldn’t have written Troilus and Cressida … Because Cressida, even though stolen from her birthplace in Troy and given to the Greeks, only provided a reason for Troilus, a Trojan man of noble birth, and totally crazy in love with her, to play the hero and go rescue her.” I was on a roll. “Of course, Troilus, spotting her with a Greek man, and being the warrior he was, missed the point of saving Cressida altogether and made the whole reason for being there about warring.”

“O…kay,” Miguel said, wearing an expression of total puzzlement. He yawned. “Sorry, I’m so bored.”

He was totally missing the point.

I flapped my hand. “Never mind. You obviously never saw the play.”

“Well, I guess it was lost to history about four hundred years ago,” Miguel murmured, smirking.

“That’s true. Anyway, let me tell you about A Side with Prejudice , so I can write the review.” I typed a few lines. “This is how to start and now we fill in the blanks.”

He read what I’d typed.

Book title: A Side with Prejudice

Author: Arthur Boring

“Oh!” I stopped and looked over, embarrassed. “Now I get it. Arthur Boring.” I digested this for a moment and kept typing.

Publisher: Self-published

Genre: MM Historical Romance

Review/rating by Nightcrawler—

I stopped again, tapped my chin and then kept on writing.

Review/rating by Nightcrawler: 2 stars

I looked over at him. “I guess you were right. This book really is boring as hell.”

He grinned. “Did I tell you or did I tell you? Go ahead, tell me what it’s about.”

I nodded, typing instead.

Synopsis:

This book tells of a courtship taking place between two men, one, the son of a middle-class tenant farmer, and the other, one of the wealthiest men in England…an unhappily, married man. They meet at a country ball. Through their day-to-day interactions during the courtship process, and the visitation of many house parties which take place in the English countryside, they get to know each other. The wealthy man is aloof at first, but is powerfully attracted to the simple country lad, eventually convincing him to become his side piece.

I stopped typing and looked over at him. His hand was covering his mouth, and he was laughing behind it. I snorted at the expression on his face when he looked over. “What?”

“Side piece?” Miguel asked.

I nodded.

“Please tell me there’s a whole lot of hot, gay sex in this book.”

I grinned, shaking my head. “Zero sex and one kiss.”

“A real sexy barn burner then?”

“Well, no, I guess not. Anyway, the next bit is the review.”

“Hang on a second,” he said, holding up the book and reading the back cover. When he’d finished, he nodded. “Okay, that’s sooo boring,” he said. “No sex. One kiss. Is there nothing about this book that’s interesting?”

I shook my head. “That’s why I was having such a hard time thinking about how to write the review.”

“Give me your tablet. I have a great review in mind.”

“Oh, good!” I shoved the tablet at him. “You write it.” He started typing and I leaned over and read what he’d written. I was laughing when he handed the tablet back to me.

My Review:

This historical is about a couple of gay dudes going to other people’s houses.”

“Where’s the rest of it?” I asked, still chuckling.

“Is there any more to it?” He gestured for the tablet and typed before handing it back. I read it and burst out laughing.

“I would have enjoyed this book more if every character had been killed off.”

I slapped my knee, still laughing as he grinned at me. “That’s the worst review I’ve ever read.”

He nodded.

“You should work on your reviewing skills.” He seemed to think about my suggestion. “Anyway, I should post it. Mr. Boring is gonna be mad.”

He shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t want Nightcrawler to lose his reputation entirely.”

“My reputation for bloviation, maybe.”

He laughed.

“Fine, I won’t post it, even though it’s a masterpiece.”

“A piece of what now?” he asked.

I laughed and set the tablet aside, rolling him over until I could straddle him. He clutched my thighs and held my gaze. I leaned down and kissed him.

“I guess I should stick to reading them since I totally suck at writing them,” he said.

I grinned at him. “Reviews you ain’t so great at, Huerta, but sucking…now that’s an artform you’ve mastered.”

He spent the rest of the night proving I was absolutely right about that…and not the least bit boring.