Chris Owen

Sex, Lies, and Celluloid

143 pages / 75000 words

ISBN:

 

Paperback at Amazon

 

Detective Shane Mullin is used to domestic investigations. So when Janet Brint hires him to tail her husband, City Councilor Daniel, he doesn't think much of it. Everyone has something to hide, and Janet thinks Daniel's problem is drugs.

 

It's not drug abuse that has Daniel hiding out, though. As Shane follows Daniel about, he realizes the politician is having lots of sex. Gay sex at that. Shane is fascinated with Daniel's case, wondering just what Janet hopes to gain by exposing Daniel's secrets.

 

Shane is also fascinated with Daniel the man, so much so that attraction blooms, and he and Daniel begin an online friendship. One thing leads to another, and Shane finds himself leading his own double life, seeing Daniel while continuing to investigate him.

 

With no good way out of his deception, Shane has a decision to make about what to tell Daniel, and Daniel himself has some tough choices about his life and whether or not to go public with his sexuality. Can Shane and Daniel work their way through their web of lies?

I took another look at the picture in my hand and then at the tags on the black Lexus RX 350 and nodded, satisfied. This was the guy, and his car, too. Nice SUV. No wonder the wife didn't want to lose him. Though with looks like his I suspected she wanted him as more than just a meal ticket.

My truck was parked down the block where it wouldn't be seen, and I was hiding myself behind the low fence that lined the dark lot on the west side of the park. I'd staked out this same park on another job a couple of years ago and the vivid memory of standing in the rain for four hours on a chilly October night made me shiver. This time the sky was clear and I could even see some stars through the bounce of light off the city streets. Thank God for that, anyway.

Apparently the drug dealer that my surveillance target was waiting for had decided to be fashionably late. I'd been sitting there watching the SUV for nearly twenty minutes and all was quiet. Inside the SUV there was nothing but stillness, the mark not even twitching or looking around. His radio was off, and there weren't any interesting sounds that I was able to pick up, despite the sensitivity of my electronic scope. For a little handheld thing the instrument picked up amazing quality.

Usually, anyway. At that moment, all I could hear was breathing and a snatch of humming. Apparently my mark liked Matchbox 20.

I was just about to shift my weight and lean on the fence when a body separated itself from the shadows and approached the SUV, walking in a straight line for the passenger side. Oddly, the target got out of the car before the new man could reach the vehicle and then got in the back. The newcomer did the same, without a word. Just got in the back and the two of them sat there.

"Daniel?"

"Yes," the man I'd been watching said, which fit the information in my file, but it seemed odd to me that he was using his real name. "And you're going by 'Jim'?"

"It's my name," Jim said, laughing. "But I don't care if you believe me."

Daniel snorted and laughed, too. "It hardly matters. So, we're still on for what we talked about earlier?"

"Hell, yes," Jim said emphatically, and I could hear the way he was moving on the leather seat, his jeans sliding and shifting. "Come here."

Daniel didn't say anything, but there were more sliding sounds and then a low moan.

I listened to the sounds they made together and it didn't take me long to determine exactly what was going on.

This was no drug deal. Unless one considered cock a controlled substance.

Sometimes love is complicated. 

Copyright 2016 Chris Owen