Ice Water in Hell Read online

  If Baz wanted to torture him, Nick would beat him at his own game. He walked out of his office and down the staircase. After punching the security code into the keypad, the heavy acrylic door swung open.

  Nick stepped out into the crowd for the first time all evening. His first stop was the bar. Cory nodded and built him a Guinness. Nick watched the master at work. He’d been so impressed by the way Cory knew how to properly build the rich drink, he’d told Dominic they had to have him.

  As he watched the damn little sprite work, his cock started to get hard. Cory had made it clear he was interested in anything Nick felt like giving. Nick shook his head as he watched Cory’s tight little ass shake as he bounced to the loud music. He’d never been more tempted to take the bartender up on the offered company.

  Cory slid the Guinness across the bar with a smile. “Can I get you anything else?”

  Nick grinned back. It was on the tip of his tongue…shit. He just couldn’t do it.

  “Thanks. This’ll do for now,” Nick said before taking a welcomed sip of the stout. He turned his attention to the dance floor where Baz was the center of attention. The stark contrast between the white décor of the nightclub and the bronzed Greek in black leather was remarkable. Baz appeared to be some kind of dark warrior, taking no prisoners as he humped and gyrated against the twink he danced with.

  Enough! Nick turned and leaned over the bar. “Hey, sweetheart, will you put this back there for me while I dance?”

  Cory took the Guinness and batted his long blond lashes. “It’ll cost you.”

  Nick chuckled. “Put it on my tab.”

  After getting rid of his drink, Nick strode toward the dance floor, coming up behind Baz like he was a panther stalking his prey. Nick pressed himself against Baz’s back and wrapped his arms around his old lover, preventing Baz from turning around.

  Baz was so far into the song, he didn’t even seem to care that he’d been taken away from his dance partner. Baz reached back and put his hands on Nick’s ass as he ground his butt against Nick’s hard cock.

  Nick was transported back to Heaven, to the years of fucking Baz on a daily basis. Damn, the two of them had been good together. He bent and began kissing and licking Baz’s neck as he worked his hand down the front of the leather pants.

  Baz moaned and pressed himself further against Nick’s body.

  If Nick thought he could get away with it, he’d have bent Baz over and fucked him right there on the dance floor. Instead, he knew he’d have to be content with giving Baz a cuddle and a handjob.

  Nick worked Baz’s buttons free and wrapped his hand around the fat cock. As the music continued, Nick and Baz did their own dance, Baz fucking Nick’s hand, Nick biting Baz’s neck. It was like old times and Nick became so caught up, he made the mistake of speaking.

  “Love you so much, baby.”

  Baz suddenly stopped and went rigid.

  Nick barely registered the flare of nostrils as Baz spun around before the fist knocked him on his ass. Nick grinned up at Baz. Yeah, he’d deserved it. He knew that much.

  “You felt good, baby,” Nick said.

  “Don’t you dare call me that, you fucker!” Baz stormed off the dance floor and headed for the exit.

  Nick got to his feet and watched the man he loved walk away again. Shit!

  * * * *

  Galen Dyonysius chewed his fingernail. With his other hand, he parted the blinds and looked toward the street. He’s still there. What’s he doing? Why, after all these years, has he come for me?

  The first night Lysander had come for him, he’d yelled through Galen’s door. Thankfully, Galen immediately recognized the voice and refused to open for his murderous visitor. For hours, Lysander sat in the hall, scratching at Galen’s door and laughing.

  Memories of the deep, robust laugh as Lysander continued to swing the sword, hacking away at Galen and Leo, had haunted Galen for two thousand years. Then suddenly, it was back and right outside the safety of his apartment.

  Galen’s murderer gazed up at the window as if he felt eyes upon him. Galen jerked his hand away from the blind and quickly stepped back. For eleven days, he’d been trapped inside his apartment, too afraid to even shop for more food. If only he’d taken the time to make friends. His neighbors hated the very sight of him, often calling him the boogey man because Galen refused to meet anyone’s direct gaze. His existence was his to suffer through. Laughing and making friends wouldn’t help him wash his soul, and without the cleansing, he had no chance of getting Leo back.

  Going back to sit on the shabby couch, he curled his legs under him and buried his face in his hands. How many times over the last eleven days had he relived his own brutal murder? He’d chosen The City as his home to atone for the mistake that had cost the man he loved his life. Maybe he deserved to be tormented by the man sitting out front.

  His stomach grumbled and Galen reached down to rub the concave skin. How much longer could he last?

  Chapter Two

  Baz rolled to his side and stared at Lu. All that sun-bronzed skin on display and he was no longer allowed to touch. Shame.

  “If I give you a list of books, will you get them for the library?” Baz asked.

  Lu’s head turned toward him. It was hard to tell where Lu was looking behind those mirrored sunglasses. A small part of him hoped Lu was appreciating his nudity.

  “Of course, Mr. Librarian.”

  “Fuck off.” Baz chuckled as he rolled over onto his back.

  “Sorry. You just don’t look like a bookworm.” Lu covered his mouth to hide his smile.

  Baz sighed. Lu didn’t understand his love for books, but that had never bothered him. The fact that Lu had agreed to build a library in the first place said a lot about their friendship. The smell of books acted like an aphrodisiac to Baz. He loved holding them, smelling them, running his hands over their spines. The secret to taking care of books was to treat them like lovers. Clean them if soiled, appreciate them when they’re good, and let them carry you away to a place you never thought you’d go…

  Beside him, Lu started laughing. “Your dick’s hard. What’re you thinking about?”

  Baz reached down and stroked his cock. “Mmmm…books.”

  “You’re such a freak.” Lu snorted.

  “Yes, but a well-read freak,” Baz replied, continuing to fondle himself.

  “This list you’re going to give me. Exactly how many westerns are on it?” Lu asked.

  Baz shrugged. “Enough.”

  “I don’t get it. You’re completely obsessed with cowboys who don’t even fuck each other. What’s the point?”

  Baz closed his eyes and thought of the stories he loved so much. “Books are only meant to be a catalyst for your own imagination. When I read about cowboys, it doesn’t matter that there’s no sex between them. In my mind, they fuck each other after they bed down for the night. I can clearly picture them in groups of two or three, keeping away the night chill by spooning their nude bodies against each other.”

  As Baz continued to think out loud, he increased the speed of his hand. “The haze of dust in the air kicked up by a herd of stampeding cattle. The sound of leather creaking as a man sits his saddle. The smell of a man’s sweat after a long day… Oh fuck!”

  The jolt of pleasure as he came took his breath away. Shit. He gripped his cock under the head and squeezed out the last strings of his climax. Baz melted against the lounge chair as he rode out the last euphoric moments.

  “You are one truly sick, twisted bastard,” Lu commented.

  Baz opened his eyes and glanced at his best friend. “Say what you want, but now you have a hard on.”

  Lu looked down and grinned. “Yes, I do. Guess I need to make a trip to the new club. Interested?”

  Going to Ice Water was the last thing Baz felt like doing. “No thanks. I’m going to run into work for a while.”

  Lu stood and stretched his arms above his head. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

  “Yea
h. Do me a favor and clean me up before you go.”

  With a wave of his hand, the cum splattered on Baz’s torso vanished.

  “Is that what you meant?” Lu asked.

  “I’d have preferred you did it the old fashioned way, but I know its wishful thinking.” Baz stood and grabbed his towel.

  He could have asked Lu to dress him as well but didn’t want to push his luck. Lu was in an ornery, horny mood and it was better to stay out of his way when he got like that.

  Inside the penthouse, Baz dressed and rode down with Lu in the elevator.

  “I left that list of books on your dining table,” Baz told Lu before they went their separate ways.

  Lu grinned. “You’ll have them tomorrow. I might even throw in a few gay cowboy stories for you.”

  Baz’s jaw dropped. “What? They have those?’

  Lu chuckled. “Yep.”

  “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” Baz asked.

  “Because I didn’t know if I wanted The City’s librarian pounding his meat while on the job.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Wouldn’t want to deprive a pervert of his jacking material.”

  “Yeah, go fuck Dominic in front of a room full of people before indulging in my perverted pastime of reading.” He slapped Lu on the back before heading toward his beat-up Jeep. It was an ongoing battle between him and his best friend, one they enjoyed sparring over. He didn’t care. He’d happily put up with a lot of shit to get his hands on some new westerns. Just thinking about them had Baz’s cock filling once more.

  Baz looked down at his lap and shook his head. “Maybe Lu’s right. I do need a fucking life.”

  * * * *

  Galen was getting desperate. He’d eaten the last of the mayonnaise the previous evening and had turned his apartment inside out searching for something, anything he could eat without making himself sick.

  He looked out the window toward The Temple. Not only would he be safe there, but he knew from his usual daily visits there were hosts to be found. He’d never thought of the thin, wafer-like alter bread as dinner before, but as hungry as he was, they sounded like the best meal in the world.

  Surely, Lysander had to leave sometime. Yet every time Galen looked, there he was. With little choice, Galen scooted a kitchen chair to the window and sat down. If he had to hold vigil night and day, he’d do it. There simply was no other choice.

  As the minutes became hours, Galen struggled to stay awake. The stress and hunger were making him increasingly weaker. He was already dead, so what would happen to him? Would the sickening hunger continue to gnaw at his insides until he went completely mad?

  Galen clasped his hands. He usually prayed with his eyes closed, but he didn’t dare. If he wasn’t vigilant, his chance to escape could easily slip through his fingers. With any luck, his murderer wouldn’t even know he’d left his apartment.

  Galen asked God to protect Leo wherever he was. For two thousand years, Galen had wished he’d given Lysander a different answer when he had been confronted. If he knew his harsh words would have ended in the mutilation of both himself and Leo, Galen would never have done it.

  Leo was the love of his life. Even after Galen’s murder, there wasn’t a moment of the day he didn’t miss his mentor. He’d hoped if he atoned for his sin, he’d eventually be reunited, but it had been over two thousand years, and so far the closest he’d come to Leo was being stalked by his killer.

  * * * *

  Nick was finishing payroll when Lu sauntered into his office. Although Lu was a nice guy, Nick couldn’t help but hold a grudge against the one responsible for breaking him and Baz up in the first place.

  “Hey,” Nick greeted.

  Lu sat down in the chair in front of Nick’s desk and crossed his legs. “When are you going to do something to win Baz back?”

  Nick threw down his pen and stared at his visitor. The guy had a lot of nerve. Guess that’s why they called him Lucifer.

  “He won’t listen. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

  Lu rested his chin in his palm as he appeared to study Nick. “Did you really threaten to kill him?”

  “He tell you that?” Nick asked.

  Lu nodded.

  “He broke my heart when he said he was leaving me to try and right the wrong that had been done to you.” Nick didn’t know why he was bothering to defend himself. Lu would believe Baz over him any day.

  “So instead of supporting him, you threatened him?”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Nick defended. “I loved him. I was angry and hurt, and none of that mattered to him. The only thing he cared about was going to Hell.”

  “Spartans were raised to be soldiers. Every aspect of their lives was geared around producing human killing machines. Baz was no different. For some reason, he needed a battle, and my expulsion gave him a cause. In Sparta, wives supported their husbands in battle. When you didn’t, he took it as disloyalty.”

  “It wasn’t about loyalty,” Nick tried to argue. He knew better. It was love Baz ran away from.

  “Maybe not to you, but to Baz, you were questioning the values and training he’d been born into and died for.”

  Nick leaned back in his chair. “So what’re you telling me? Have I fucked up so badly things will never be the same between us?”

  Nick refused to believe that. He had all the time in the world to win Baz back. He’d moved to The City for one reason only, and he wouldn’t rest until he’d succeeded. Finished with the conversation, Nick stood and walked toward the door. Surely there was something that needed to be taken care of downstairs.

  “I have a few things to check on before we open,” he mumbled over his shoulder.

  With his hand on the knob, Nick stopped and bowed his head. “Is he dating someone else?”

  “Baz doesn’t date. He fucks. And no, I don’t believe he’s fucked anyone since you came to The City.

  Nick left the office with a smile on his face and hope in his heart.

  * * * *

  Baz was locking up the library when he thought he spotted a man between the stacks. “Hello?”

  When he received no reply, he walked toward the History section. It was actually Ancient History, but no one liked to be reminded of how old they were.

  “Sir? Can I help you find something?”

  Before the man dodged out of sight, Baz got a brief glimpse of his face. His stomach seized as the profile registered. Can’t be.

  “Lysander,” Baz spoke the name for the first time since the moment of his death. His hands fisted as he took off running toward the retreating shadow. As if by magic, the shadow disappeared before he could reach it.

  Baz pulled out his phone and called Lu.

  “Hey, change your mind about coming to the club?” Lu asked upon answering.

  “No. I’ve got a question. How can someone vanish into thin air?” Baz held his breath, waiting for the answer.

  “They can’t.”

  “I’ve just seen it with my own eyes. Tell me how it’s possible,” Baz demanded.

  He was met by silence. “Lu?”

  “It would have to be someone from Old Town,” Lu eventually answered.

  Just the name sent shivers up Baz’s spine. Very little was known about the inhabitants of Old Town, except they were the baddest of the bad, evil in its true form. It made sense to him that Lysander would be among them, for never had he met a more evil man.

  “Who was it?” Lu asked, his voice so soft Baz barely heard it.

  “My past.” Baz refused to say more. Lysander was his shame to deal with.

  “Where are you?” Lu asked.

  “Library,” Baz answered. With the majority of the lights already turned off, there were too many shadows present. The longer he wondered what lurked there, the more pissed he became. The library was his refuge, always had been. How dare Lysander taint it for him.

  “Come by the club. Sounds like you could use a distraction.”

  “No th
anks. I’m gonna stop and pick up something to eat and go home.”

  “I’ll come by. There’s something I want to give you.”

  Baz could tell by the tone of Lu’s voice that it wasn’t a request. Still, he could argue, but Baz really didn’t want to be alone.

  “Should I pick up dinner for you as well?” Baz asked.

  “No. I’ve already had my dinner.” Lu chuckled, and Baz knew exactly what the horny little devil had eaten.

  “See you later,” Baz said, trying to end the call.

  “Be careful.”

  “Always.” Baz had made the mistake of underestimating Lysander’s madness once. He would not be so naïve this time.

  * * * *

  The moment finally came. Lysander looked at his watch and walked away. Galen seized the opportunity. In his weakened condition, navigating his way down the stairs and across the street to the chapel had seemed like a marathon, but what choice did he have?

  Galen asked for God’s forgiveness as he carried the brass bowl of hosts to the alcove behind the large statue of the Virgin Mary. Guilt ate at him as much as the hunger. He was in The City to atone for his sins, and there he was, committing another.

  The longer he tried, the further away a life with Leo seemed. Years spent shut in his apartment or kneeling in the chapel hadn’t brought him any more peace than he’d had when he first arrived.

  As he continued to cram in the hosts, Galen took comfort in his memories. The hours spent learning the art of love from his mentor. The warm nights in Leo’s arms were the happiest of his life. Being a soldier wasn’t a choice in the society in which he’d been raised, but loving Leo had been. It was the one pleasure he’d allowed himself.

  After a childhood of strict and sometimes painful discipline, Leo’s gentle touch made everything he’d ever been through worth it. The hours of training as a boy, the missing affection from his parents, none of it mattered once he discovered what true love meant.

  Galen had only Leo to thank for that. If Lysander hadn’t gone on his mad killing spree, Galen had no doubt he and Leo would have grown old together. Instead, Galen would never grow old, at least in looks. When he gazed in the mirror, he tried to picture himself in his thirties or forties. As it was, Galen knew he’d forever look like an eighteen-year old who couldn’t grow a decent beard.