Capital Treasures

[This is Chapter One of a completed five-chapter Hardesty-series novella to complete posting within two weeks.]

Chapter One: Police Black Diamond

Jackson Davis, touted as the newly acquired diamond of the Washington, D.C., police force, had constructed high walls in the backyard of his Blagden Terrace house in northwest D.C. not only to keep kids out of the swimming pool and open-fronted pool house that dominated the small yard but also to minimize the noise from the nearby William Fitzgerald Tennis Center in Rock Creek Park. At least those were the reasons he gave anyone who asked. The truth, though, was that he’d done it mostly because he liked to swim and make whoopie with young men in the buff there, beyond the scrutiny of his neighbors, behavior that would be guaranteed to make the news.

Jackson Davis was an imposing, six-foot-five, muscular, black former Marine Corps military policeman of fifty-five who, as the new deputy police chief of the Metropolitan Washington, D.C., police department, hired after a nationwide search, was considered the jewel—the black diamond—of the force. He was a hard-nosed, launch-directly-at-’em, no-nonsense law-and-order (for most things) dynamo who also, on the side, was a closet gay top who liked to power fuck young white guys.

This latter point hadn’t been on the résumé that had landed him his job in the nation’s capital.

It was this latter interest that had brought D.C. police Vice Squad detective Hardesty and his sidekick and lover, the young high-end male escort Toby Drake, to Davis’s backyard cookout and intimate swim party. Jackson and Hardesty were eagles of a feather. They also both enjoyed fucking Toby Drake. Davis had only done Toby once before, through the young man’s escort agency, without realizing that he lived with the police detective, Hardesty. Once he’d learned of that attachment, seeing the two of them together at a departmental barbecue, Davis had been quick to invite them into his world. Davis was quite taken with Toby, who had been taxed hard by the big black via various kinky fetishes and had managed it. The young man had taken the fist and there weren’t that many who could manage that with Davis. The black police official had paid big bucks to ride Toby the first time and had prepaid for this time as well. He sniffed, though, the opportunity to get it from him free in the future as professional courtesy from Toby’s policeman boyfriend.

Hardesty, a nonconformist big-cocked body-builder thug who also was a police officer who always got his man, in more ways than one, wasn’t there at the private party for five to bust Black Diamond Jackson for lewd behavior and consorting with prostitutes. He was there both to pin down his own protection in the police department through the patronage of Davis and to accompany—and to protect, because he’d heard what Davis could do to a rent-boy—his side-kick, who was providing the entertainment for the deputy police chief’s pleasure.

It was, of course, odd that a Vice Squad detective would be willing to accompany his roommate and lover to a gig where the roommate and lover was going to ride the cock of the party host and friends—for money—but that was the nature of the relationship between Hardesty and Toby. They were tolerant of who each was and what he did, and somehow they meshed perfectly.

It also was the nature of the forming relationship between Hardesty and Davis. They were of like mind both professionally and in private vices—and neither one was jealous of the other in watching the other top—or indeed in sharing—a young man they both fancied. In Toby’s case, Hardesty had long since learned that the secret of keeping the young man was not to fence him in. If Toby was good with Davis topping him—even with Hardesty watching and even when, as Toby had experienced the one time he’d been with Davis, if the police official had some unusual and taxing fetishes—Hardesty knew better than to object to it.

The other two guests were young—to the point of being nineteen-year-old novices—male prostitutes, the dark-haired, Asian-featured, willowy Chinese-American David Liu and the mixed Louisianan-Jamaican sultry and muscular Shawn Baker. The deputy police chief had made known that he liked young men of ancestry that wasn’t pure Caucasian. He also liked them yielding but fresh. Both teenagers, provided by the French Canadian pimp Andre DuCard, who was trying to establish his business in the Washington area, were very fresh to the game but fully trained. They knew that today they were servicing a very important man in terms of DuCard being able to set up in the city.

Davis was a little bent—both corruption wise and sexually—in the same vein that Hardesty was, but, like Hardesty, while indulging in one of the vices he was charged to eradicate, he, overall, was seen as being honest and successful—and necessary to the safety of society in the nation’s capital. Thus, he was seen as Hardesty was in the field of keeping D.C. as safe as possible for its residents while allowing a channel for the city’s enjoyment, safely, of one of the world’s oldest professions. And Hardesty didn’t engage in his network dealings for cash. He did it for favors, more often than not the calling in of favors that solved crimes and protected the residents of the District.

Hardesty was just as pleased that his superior was attracted to non-Caucasians, because his partner, Toby, sent to the party by his escort agency, didn’t really meet the bill. He was a small and slender nearly twenty-five, but looking five years younger Minnesotan blond—almost platinum blond, the hair falling to his shoulders when he let it down.

It was other attributes Toby had that Davis gravitated to. Toby was fun to be with, movie-star handsome, and had a trained channel that fit his clients, no matter how big—or many at a time—they were, like a glove. As Davis had demonstrated, Toby could even take a fist. He was of a body type and wealth of sexual experience that were in high demand by well-heeled men, especially ones with special needs. He was accustomed to demanding fetish sex partners. That fit Hardesty, but Hardesty knew it also fit Davis. Hardesty wasn’t jealous—in the main—of Toby’s proclivities and profession or of Toby going under Davis. Getting it off with Hardesty’s superior might, Hardesty was initially afraid, be hitting a bit too close to home. He had been willing to give it a try, however, and it had worked—or was appearing to be working.

They were out by the pool, all naked, with Davis just getting it on with the two rent-boys. David Liu was on his knees between the beefy police official’s spread thighs and taking the older man’s mammoth shaft into his mouth. Everything about the big black was oversized, and that included his equipment. Davis was sitting in a lounge chair, turned a bit to his right, an arm around the waist of Shawn Baker, and pulling the tightly muscled young man into his side. As Liu opened his mouth over Davis’s erection, Davis opened his over Baker’s, in dueling blow jobs.

Hardesty and Toby were expected to get it on on the adjoining lounge bed, as Davis didn’t like to play alone, but Toby’s cellphone rang, and he went back into the house to answer it, leaving Hardesty alone to observe. Hardesty wasn’t that good at observing, though, and after watching for a few minutes, he rose and went to the three entangled men and pulled David Liu out of the chain. He didn’t think Davis would mind, because the black bull had already said he’d like to watch a little bondage sex.

In short order, Hardesty had Liu stretched out on his belly on the lounge bed, his wrists restrained to the base of the legs at the head of the bed and his ankles to the base of the legs at the foot. He pushed a small, partially deflated beach ball under the Asian honey’s belly, which raised the young man’s tail. As Davis moved Shawn Baker to a position where he could both suck on the young man’s dick while fingering Baker’s anal entrance, stretching the lad there, and watch Hardesty fuck David Liu, Hardesty knelt between the Asian-American’s spread thighs and ate the teenager’s ass out. Liu panted and groaned and exclaimed under Hardesty’s attentions, as a good rent-boy is taught to do. He became even more vocal as Hardesty came up on his knees, mounted the young man’s ass, positioned his own very respectable, meaty erection at the hole, and, covering Liu close from above, penetrated his passage. Hardesty immediately set up a steady, deep rhythm of the fuck.

It was what Davis wanted, Hardesty knew, for the two of them to set up an understanding of mutual trust and support. Davis was going to clean up the city, despite his own sexual fetish, and Hardesty was going to benefit and be able to do his job better by establishing loyalty and connection to the man. Sharing fuck parties with the man was how Davis had signaled that trust and cooperation would form.

The rent-boys Toby had provided didn’t mind. They were being paid well, would enjoy a level of connection and protection themselves by their association with Davis and Hardesty through Toby, and loved taking big cocks or they wouldn’t be in the business. Both of these were new to the city. Hooking up with the deputy police chief and with a key vice cop put them miles ahead of rent-boys who had worked the city for a decade or more.

Davis watched Hardesty for a few minutes, as the big, thuggish muscleman hovered over the small Asian’s body, Hardesty’s fists buried in the lounge bed pad on either side of the shoulders of the spread-eagled and bound, shuddering, moaning, captive young man and the root of his thick cock appearing and disappearing in the young man’s hole. Watching this, though, aroused the black bull enough for him to stir off the lounge chair. He tossed Shawn Baker, himself a muscular young man, over his shoulder like he weighed no more than a feather and carried him into the pool pavilion, the interior of which was dominated by a large bed with an iron frame superstructure.

It was Hardesty’s turn to watch the pool house, while he continued fucking Liu, where Davis put Baker on this back on the bed, stretched the young man’s arms over his head and restrained his wrists to the edges of the wrought iron rails of the headboard. Leads were brought down from the corners of the frame at the foot of the bed and Baker’s legs were raised and spread, with his ankles tied to the leads, immobilizing and spread-eagling him on the bed.

Davis wasted no time. Baker screamed out in bloody murder—perhaps some for effect, most not, judging by the size of Davis’s erection and how little time he gave the prostitute to open for him—as the big black pushed his knees under Baker’s buttocks, stuffed his passage with a monster cock, and vigorously pounded away at him.

Toby came out of the house, plopped down in the lounge chair Davis had vacated, and alternated his attention between what Davis was doing to the mixed breed rent-boy in the pool house and what his own lover was doing on top of the Chinese-American rent-boy on the adjacent lounge. Toby wasn’t the jealous type either and this was his business, but he was showing that it was taking effort to respond to all of this enthusiastically. He was a professional in a risky business, though. He understood the importance of keeping on Jackson Davis’s good side. So, he was playing his part. Neither he nor Hardesty had realized just how demanding that would be—testing of Toby sexually and testing Hardesty’s loyalty.

The next round didn’t entail Davis fucking David Liu and Hardesty playing around with Toby, as the latter two had assumed. In the next round, it was Toby with Davis in the pool house and Hardesty with the mixed breed Baker on the lounge bed. Hardesty had to grit his teeth and watch helplessly—lying on his back on the lounge bed, with Shawn Baker astride his hips, riding him in a cowboy position—while Davis was brutally fucking Toby in the pool house.

Toby was trussed up on the pool house bed as Baker had been, but in reverse. His legs were spread and tied off at the headboard. He was facing down toward the bed and out to the foot of the bed, where Hardesty could see the changing expressions on his face as Davis fucked him. His arms were spread, his wrists tied to the leads coming down from the corners of the frame at the foot of the bed. Davis was knelt behind the young man’s bowed body, one hand palming Toby’s belly and the fingers of the other buried in Toby’s blond curls and cruelly arching Toby’s head back into the hollow between the black bull’s bulging pecs.

In short order, it wasn’t Davis’s cock inside Toby. Davis had nastier fetishes than just cock play. His fist was inside Toby, up to the wrist, and he was fucking the young man hard and fast. The police official’s slitted eyes were watching Hardesty from over Toby’s shoulder as Toby panted and groaned, gauging Hardesty for any signs that he wasn’t prepared to be Davis’s man in everything.

The inference was that Davis was checking Hardesty’s loyalty and willingness.

Hardesty didn’t baulk. He knew what Davis was establishing. He also knew that he wasn’t anyone’s man but his own—with Toby coming only second to him. He knew, though, that Toby could take this and would understand what they both could lose by not teaming up with Davis.

So, Toby took it and took it and took it. And Hardesty held himself in check. Regardless of that, though, Hardesty decided to pause to reconsider this alliance. Davis might be more demanding and controlling than the Vice cop thought he would be. With Davis—indeed, with Hardesty himself, he acknowledged—the good had to be balanced against the bad. They both were addicted to the same crimes they were pledged with wiping out. Davis had come to the District from Denver with the reputation of wearing a white hat and digging into problems with his spurs. He’d hit the ground digging those spurs in, rooting out corruption and sloth from Day One. And Hardesty had swallowed his line whole. Maybe he’d done that too quickly, though. He’d have to step back and check this guy out. Hardesty had friends in Denver, and he liked that town. Yes, just maybe he needed to do some independent checking.

* * * *

“I won’t be doing that again. I had to do that check, though.”

“And I passed or not?” Hardesty asked.

“Oh, you passed,” Davis said. “That’s one sweet ride you have, but you don’t have to worry. I don’t really like whites all that much.”

“So, I thought,” Hardesty answered. The two of them were sitting by the pool after the rest had gone. Davis had said that he and Hardesty had business to discuss and dismissed the others. Hardesty and Toby had brought the two rent-boys in Hardesty’s Hummer H3 and were assuming they were going back together, but that wasn’t going to be the case.

“I have an unmarked car here you can drive back to the station,” Davis told Hardesty. “Then you’ll have to find your own way across the river. I understand you live in Alexandria, near the airport.” He said it like he disapproved, and it was, indeed, department policy for the D.C. cops to live in the district. Few did, though, because they didn’t pull down salaries that permitted them too. Few had nice, multimillion-dollar houses snuggling up to Rock Creek Park like Jackson Davis did. Hardesty wrote himself a mental note to check out what Davis’s salary was—and from where he might be pulling other money regularly. Maybe his reputation for honesty was overrated.

Hardesty didn’t live across the Potomac because he had to, though. He’d inherited money. He’d even inherited a house, here in D.C., not far from here, and he still had it and used it when he needed to hide—or needed to hide someone else. Or when he had the need to take a guy someplace and work him over sexually and he didn’t want to do it where Toby might walk in on it.

If they came after him about not living in the District, he’d revealed he had this house and would claim it as his residence, but he didn’t see why he should let the department know any more about him than they needed to. And God knew he and Toby could afford an apartment in the District. Toby made a packet in what he did. No, they lived over in Alexandria’s Crystal City, in a high rise overlooking the Reagan National Airport runways, because Toby wanted to live there and it was a snazzy place he could bring johns, if he chose—and Hardesty could still have a room of his own beyond the reach of that. Toby’s escort agency subsidized the rent there.

“I would think you’d pull sexy young Mr. Drake in on a tight leash.” Davis laughed, getting the inviting vision of putting the young male whore on a leash and parading him around the pool area.

“I don’t own Toby. If I acted like I did, he’d leave me,” Hardesty answered. “He does as he likes. He goes with who he wants to go with. He doesn’t ask my permission or take my direction on that.” He turned his head to see if Davis had gotten the point of that. Toby went into the pool house and let himself get strung up and fucked with a big black hand, followed by bull’s cock, by his own choice. Sure, in this case, it helped Hardesty out, but if Toby didn’t want to do it, he wouldn’t, and Hardesty would understand a respect that. Hardesty wanted Davis to get that message clearly, but he hoped he didn’t have to say it. Davis didn’t react as if he understood, though, so Hardesty did spell it out. If it got himself on the outs with this man, so be it.

“Toby went into that pool house with you because you’re one big dude and he has a fetish for big black studs—also because pleasing men like you is his chosen profession. He did it also because you paid him to do it. It wasn’t because I needed him to do that to show you my loyalty. Sorry if that doesn’t go down well with you.”

But Davis surprised Hardesty. He laughed. “A fetish for big black cock. I guess I can’t be upset by that. A big black cock comes in handy. I like your young Mr. Drake. I won’t do him again, though. He’s really too white for my tastes. There’s a reason I held you back—and I didn’t want the rent-boys to hear it. Didn’t I hear your Toby let drop that they were from Andre DuCard’s stable?”

“Yes. The two rent-boys are. Toby isn’t, but he went looking for what he’d heard you wanted and that meant he had to work with DuCard—even though he and I don’t like that dude’s reputation. You’d let known you wanted them fresh, exotic, and young, but trained. Toby heard that DuCard came into town with a fresh stable. The men in Toby’s service are very well trained, but they have low mileage on them too.”

“Yes, the young men seemed fresh enough. But it’s DuCard I wanted to talk to you about. You, I’m sure have heard about some art and jewelry robberies at the houses of the rich and famous here the last several weeks.”

“Yes, I have. But that’s not my brief, so I haven’t looked at it too closely. We’re looking at the possibility of a little territory war going on with the pimps since DuCard arrived with his men. New blood, but on old territory. Everyone seems to want the territory centering on Dupont Circle. And there are rumors of someone else trying to muscle in too. We’re working on stopping anything before it starts. There are some nasty inferences of how these rent-boys are acquired as well.”

“Well, I may need you to work on the other—the jewelry-theft problem. I need someone I can trust.”

“That’s robbery. I do vice. People would notice and start looking at it and asking questions—questions like why you even know who I am.”

“The problem, and we’ve not released this, is that the robberies started after DuCard came to town. And two of the robberies happened at houses where the man was home alone and had brought in a prostitute.”

“And so?”

“In both cases it was a male prostitute in DuCard’s stable. The robbery case may be a subset of your case.”

“I don’t know. Seems the robbing could be done without any connection to the problem of a turf and origin of the goods war, which is more of what we’re working on.”

“Well, we’ll see,” he said. “Why don’t you cool off before you have to go. Go do some diving into the pool. You’ve got a great body. I’d like to watch.”

“OK,” Hardesty said, rising, still naked, from the lounge bed. “But there’s only so far I’ll go with something. I have to be a lot drunk and hopped up to let a man fuck me. I’ll do the exhibition, but nothing beyond that. And, I’m white anyway.”

“But heavily tanned, except that Speedo shadowing at your pelvis. Some guys find that arousing. But, yes, you’re white and too old and built for my tastes. You don’t have to worry about me on that. There’s only so much loyalty I’ll ask be proven.”

“So, the exhibition you performed with Toby—fisting him—was testing my loyalty?”

“Not entirely. It was as much taking my pleasure with a talented courtesan. It did, however, assure me of your tolerance. I know how much you regard the young man.”

Hardesty’s laugh was a little nervous as he moved to the diving board. He wasn’t used to being handled and controlled like this by anyone alive. He wasn’t used to this at all.

When he came out of the pool, he found that another young guy had come onto the scene. He was a Thai, a really small, slim guy, looking really young, but Hardesty knew that looks could be deceiving. Davis was reclining on a lounge bed, with the Thai guy, naked, standing beside him. Davis had his hand on the guy’s butt, but a couple of his fingers were buried. Both Davis and the Thai rent-boy, who was identified to Hardesty as Lek, were hard. Hardesty was getting there himself as he spied Lek, who was a real honey.

“One more thing before you go, Hardesty. I want you and me to do Lek here together.”

“Is this a bonding thing?” Hardesty asked. “Is this yet another test of loyalty?”

“I want you and me to do this little guy together,” was all the answer the police official gave.

“Another test of loyalty?”

“No,” Davis laughed. “Because I want to share him with you.”

“Who’s on top and who’s on bottom?” was all Hardesty said at that point.

Davis was already on his back on the lounge bed, so that’s what they went with. Davis was on the bottom, with Lek skewered on his cock, facing him and palming the big black’s pecs. Hardesty saddled up behind the Thai, worked his way inside Lek’s passage on top of the already-buried black cock, while Lek moaned and groaned, declaring he couldn’t take them both, but, in fact, taking them both. And then the big black, muscular bull and the big white muscular horse rode the miraculously yielding and able Thai guy into the next hour.

Hardesty wasn’t in the least surprised when a photographer came onto the terrace to photograph the ride. The reason for the double was clear now—something of record to hold over Hardesty’s head. This police department dude took every precaution when it came to loyalty, Hardesty decided. The reasons to look into this guy’s background were multiplying.

* * * *

Out of habit, Hardesty didn’t drive the unmarked car directly to the department. The habit, when in an unmarked police ride, was for a Vice cop—one specializing in the rent-boys, as Hardesty did—to do a drive through the area around Dupont Circle and 17th Street any time he went out and to take a survey of the rent-boys walking the streets. It wasn’t really to hassle them. It was more to watch out for them and any threatening traffic that could be around and also to identify any new ones showing up. Each new one had to hear the “survival talk” from him. A few select of them needed to see his bedroom—but only if they’d heard about him and that was what they wanted.

The young Hispanic guy Hardesty saw at the head of an alley on P Street between 17th and the circle was new. He was really cute, the type Hardesty liked to tie up and have his way with—the rent-boy usually liked it real well too—so it was clear to the Vice cop that the guy was new to the street in D.C.

Hardesty was on the wrong side of the road. By the time he’d gone around the circle and come back another police car had stopped and two beat cops were out and talking to the guy. Hardesty pulled his car in behind them, got out, and showed his badge. They were from Robbery, not Vice. He could have pulled specialty and taken the guy from them and either taken him to the department or to his own apartment, depending on what the guy wanted, but he vaguely knew both of the beat cops and didn’t want to take their grab. It was clear they wanted to take the guy in and register him to the street.

His name was Jose and Hardesty went down to the interview room when they’d all gotten back to the shop. He didn’t stay long, though—just long enough to get an arousal off the guy. He was really cute—small, slender, narrow hips, a good face that hadn’t been beaten in yet, and, most important, eyes for Hardesty. But Hardesty had stuff to check out at his desk before taking the subway to the airport and then walking the two blocks to the apartment house he shared with Toby, so he didn’t check back right away. The other side of the coin was that he hadn’t turned the car in yet. He could have offered the guy a ride back to his station after he was interviewed and have taken it from there, depending on what the rent-boy wanted. He tried out most of them on the streets and most of those not only wanted it the first time, they wanted it again and again. They got protection from a powerful cop out of it and a master’s cocking. If they wanted to learn to manage a fetish, he was their man—he’d take them to but not over the edge.

“He’s gone already?”

“Yeah, beat cop Number One said.” It was his first night out there. He said he wouldn’t be back.

Sure, that’s what they all say, Hardesty thought, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to diss either of these cops and they weren’t trained in what to do with a new rent-boy taken off the street.

“Did you get any ID?” he asked.

“Sure. He had a driver’s license. Illinois. Brand spanking new. We copied it and opened a file on him. His name’s Jose Garcia. He said he was just passing through. Said he wasn’t really soliciting. We didn’t actually catch him with a hookup and he didn’t really match up to the Robbery report we were working, so we had to let him go.”

“The new license didn’t give you a clue?” Hardesty asked, unable to keep that bottled up. “And all Hispanics with a fake ID name themselves Jose Garcia.”

The two cops looked glum, so Hardesty let them off the hook. “No problem, though, if he’s just passing through. If he’s not, he’ll be in again and we can do a deeper interview. If so, you might want to pull in someone from Vice to help you with that.” He didn’t say that they should have waited for him, a Vice detective, to come back before they cut the guy loose and he didn’t ask if the rent-boy had volunteered to do one of them or both if they let him go, which was standard fare for the Dupont Circle male whores. And sometimes they got their wish. Sometimes Hardesty gave them their wish. He might have done so with this one; he really was cute.

And it wasn’t just a matter of taking privileges with the street guys. An interview with an experienced Vice cop would include a lecture on self-preservation, tips on making it without getting cut up, and connections to get help if he had been cut up or was threatened with that. Realistically, it wasn’t a matter of eradicating prostitutes from the streets of the city as it was to control their world and keep it from involving a more serious crime. If the rent-boys wanted to feel protected by mixing in with a police officer—which most of them did want with Hardesty—well, that was just establishing realistic conditions.

Any problem with Hardesty wasn’t that he fucked them, really—they were out there to be fucked. It’s that he was a rough and demanding top. But he only imposed that on guys who wanted it, and most of them volunteering for this life did want someone who made them feel it but who they felt confident wasn’t going to go beyond limits. They also needed someone to teach them to handle fetish sex who wouldn’t go too far with them. It was a symbiotic relationship. The eyes this Jose Garcia had given Hardesty assured him that the Hispanic honey wanted it from him.

As he was taking the subway home, he was thinking of this Jose Garcia and being new to the District. Could he be one of the whores Andre DuCard was bringing in? The address on the fake license—Hardesty was sure it was a fake—was in Detroit. Detroit was just across the river from Windsor, in Canada. As he had heard it, DuCard had come down from Ontario. Ontario was in Canada. So, maybe the Hispanic cutie was part of that stable. If so, Hardesty would meet him and have a crack at him one of these days.

He got to the Alexandria high-rise apartment in a horny mood. He shared a showcase two-bedroom, sleek, all-glass-walls apartment with Toby. At least the living area and Toby’s master bedroom and bath were elegant and sleek. Hardesty was nested in the second bedroom, which also had a bath, but which was more “homey,” with furniture from his parents’ house, than sleek. But it was home and it was where Toby usually slept as well when he didn’t have a john to entertain in the rest of the apartment. It also was purpose outfitted—with alarms and peepholes and everything needed for Hardesty to be both unknown if Toby brought someone home but also to be there johnny on the spot, able to see what was going on, if Toby needed him. A person couldn’t even get through the door into the apartment without Hardesty or Toby knowing it even if they were in their separate bedrooms.

Hardesty entered the apartment with the question of whether Toby was mad at him for letting Jackson Davis manhandle him. Neither of them had had any inkling Davis would do that and Hardesty had flatly said he wouldn’t—that Toby wasn’t the man’s type. He hadn’t foreseen that Davis would want deeper pledges of loyalty than Hardesty was already giving him.

He needn’t have worried, though. Toby wasn’t there when Hardesty went to bed. But Toby was there not long afterward, working his way up Hardesty’s legs and into his groin with kisses and licks and then, in the dark room, saddling himself on Hardesty’s erection and riding him into the dawn.

So, Toby wasn’t mad at Hardesty for not pulling him out of Davis’s clutches when the going got rough.

To be continued.