Breakfast Point: A Danny Morales Mystery
“I hate surprises, Mando.” I’d mentioned this to my lover a few times. Possibly more because we’d flown for ten and a half hours from Honolulu to Sydney, Australia. Mando loved surprises and he hadn’t been forthcoming about why he needed to visit a long-lost aunt, even if she had just moved to the delightfully named suburb of Breakfast Point.
So far our trip had been one big surprise after another. And not in a good way. As he drove our rental car in circles in the rain trying to find his aunt’s house, he kept saying, “It will get better, I promise.”
“When?” I asked as he accidentally ran a red light. I couldn’t blame him, to be an honest. Australia was all upside down for us. We’d left a balmy and blissful Honolulu to arrive in cool, dismal Sydney in mid-Winter. Then there was the terrifying ordeal of Mando being forced to drive on the other side of the car, on the other side of the road.
“I have plans, Danny.” He swerved back to the correct side of the road.
“What plans?” Whenever I asked this, he’d always say, “Can’t I take a vacay with my favorite guy in the whole, wide world?”
Well, yeah, he could, but it worried me. Mando was a busy detective working on the outer island of Molokai. Drugs and murder had become the chief pastimes of the island’s inhabitants. A shocking amount of crime occurred in a place what was a speck in the Hawaiian island chain.
And I was a busy private investigator in Honolulu. I had scads of women wanting to spy on their wayward husbands, and I was worried about missing some big paydays. I reminded myself that this was what I wanted. Mando. All to myself. Since we’d gotten back together three months ago, our relationship was even more intense than I remembered, and the sexual heat between us, ferocious. We’d made a concerted effort to meet up every other weekend either on his island, or mine. Somehow, we hadn’t had a single fight in all that time, even when he said he gave me twenty-four hours notice to go to Australia.
I stayed silent thinking about our trip up until this point, and let him deal with the GPS navigator that kept hollering “Recalculating!” thanks to his missteps.
His maternal aunt, a woman named Peaches McCoy, had divorced her husband for a much younger man. They had bought some swanky new home and wanted Mando to visit. Turned out that in the years we hadn’t been together, he’d spent time in Sydney with Peaches, and her new guy, Cream. Sorry. That isn’t his real name. I just made that up.
Anyway, I went along for the ride. The plane ride. The freaky one that culminated with an allegedly non-toxic insecticide being sprayed on the packed flight before we were allowed to disembark. The insecticide was supposed to protect Australia from us foreigners who might have insects lurking on us, but I wanted to know what was in it and why it was being filtered to us through the circulating air system. Then for some reason the system malfunctioned and two men in khaki shorts, shirts and long socks boarded the plane, each carrying two large cans. They stormed down the middle of the plane and sprayed them over our heads.
“A flight attendant got Parkinson’s Disease from this stuff,” the guy across the aisle stage-whispered. “He got a record settlement.”
Mando scowled at him and covered his face with his hands. “This might be toxic,” he informed me. “Even though they say it isn’t.”
I stared at him.
“Relax,” he said, his voice muffled. “They’ve been doing this for years,”
Uh-huh. And then we got off the plane and found our luggage had taken a side trip to Toowoomba, in Queensland. I got a fast education about Toowoomba by Googling it. Why, oh why had our suitcases taken such a far-flung detour? Were they trying to tell us something? The ground crew of Qantas said they’d deliver them to Mando’s aunt’s house within forty-eight hours.
“We’re here. Miracle of miracles.” Mando slammed on the brakes. “And there’s Peaches.”
I’m not sure who was more of a wreck when Mando and I screeched to a halt outside her lovely, charming, spacious abode in Sydney’s inner western suburbs, but I sure hoped we weren’t driving anywhere again soon.
I’d been disappointed that I didn’t see kangaroos bouncing down Sydney’s streets when Mando promised me there would be plenty. I was less than delighted when it was the first thing he told Peaches who came running down the front path to greet us as we got out of the car.
She had a martini glass in her hand and appeared to be wearing pajamas. It was eleven A.M. I guess it was the cocktail hour somewhere in the world. Boy, she couldn’t have been more different from Mando’s mom who was a health nut. The woman ran miles and miles a day and wouldn’t eat anything that wasn’t green.
“Peaches! Meet my boyfriend, Danny.” Mando put an arm around her shoulders. “Guess what? He believed me when I said there were kangaroos everywhere!”
She laughed and laughed and pointed at me. “Good one. Say, aren’t you supposed to be some super cop?”
“What?” I asked.
“He is,” Mando said. “He speaks to the dead. Or they speak to him.”
“The kangaroos don’t though,” Peaches said and they laughed again.
Mortified, I sensed my first fight with Mando coming sooner rather than later but kept a tight smile on my lips as she asked about our suitcases.
“All we have is cabin baggage. Qantas sent our bags to Toowoomba,” Mando told her. “They’re going to send them here within two days.”
“Well, we’ll wash your clothes and you’ll be fine.” She led us to the house. At the front door, Mando and I kicked off our shoes and made sure they stood, toes facing the outside of the house (for good luck, according to Hawaiian custom) but Peaches made a tsking sound and said, “You don’t need to do that here.”
“Oh, we’re used to it. Besides the shoes are wet,” Mando said.
“You’re just like my Pete. He hates shoes, too.”
I didn’t mind shoes but didn’t want to correct her.
A handsome guy with unusual, long blond hair threaded with thick patches of gray greeted us.
“Pete!” Mando rushed over to him and Pete hugged him longer than necessary in my humble opinion, but seemed genuinely happy to see him.
“You must be Danny.” Pete hugged me and the sensation was weird. I felt…repelled. I was mad at myself for feeling that way because he was being nice and he smiled at me. I extricated myself from his embrace and let Peaches point out various places of interest as we walked inside. Now that I got a good look at it, the house had two levels and looked like a bit of a showcase. It seemed to be part of a massive estate set around an Olympic-size swimming pool, which I could see from the windows, and lots and lots of grass.
She showed us to our rooms. Yes. Rooms. As in plural.
“I don’t care if you’re bum bandits,” she said. “I wouldn’t care if you were straight. If you’re not married, you have your own rooms. What you do in the privacy of your rooms of a night is your business. Not mine. Just don’t leave the doors open.”
Bum bandits. I tried to get past that one. I was having trouble understanding her. She pronounced privacy like privet. And she had an odd logic since Pete made a point of showing us their room.
“This is us,” he said. “We have views of the entire estate. It’s very quiet at night, so I hope neither of you are screamers when you’re having sex.”
Peaches slapped his arm in a playful way. Mando laughed but I could tell he was embarrassed. I have to admit, I didn’t like either of them much. He gave me a creepy feeling and I wasn’t too upset when he wandered off to their room. Peaches meanwhile, never stopped talking and drank something called vodka gimlets from the moment we arrived. The property on which she lived looked like a fake resort. The kind big developers turn out by the bucket load in Hawaii.
“We have a tennis court and a cricket pitch,” she said more than once. She offered me a vodka gimlet and I liked it. A lot more than the idea of cricket, which I knew nothing about. I think I got drunk on one sip. For some reason the combination of chilled vodka and lime cordial made me care less about sleeping alone than I would have thought. I followed Peaches upstairs where she showed me my elegant room. I had a view of the river—The Parramatta, she told me— in the far distance, and the cricket pitch right beneath my balcony.
Cheers! I slurped at my cocktail, dumped my stuff on the bed and from the side pocket of my cabin bag, grabbed the book I’d been reading on the plane. Out of habit, I put it on the nightstand. I turned around and to my astonishment saw something long, slithery and silver slinking out of my room. I followed it and wanted to scream. It was the biggest lizard I’d ever seen in my life. And it had a blue tongue. The book I was reading was called Quackery: A Brief History of The Worst Ways to Cure Everything. I followed the slow progress of the lizard thinking I could write a book. The Worst Ways to Take a Trip. Then I had another sip of vodka and hoped Peaches wouldn’t run out of lime cordial any time soon.
She returned from taking Mando to his room and smiled in a goopy way when she saw the lizard. “Bertie!” she squealed and dropped to her knees. She kissed the lizard and its pink mouth opened and it’s long blue tongue parked itself on her chin.
“He’s my baby,” she said when she saw the look of horror on my face. “They make excellent pets.” Het tone sounded defensive so I nodded and lied.
“So I’ve heard.”
She smiled again and rose to her feet. “He’s twenty-five years old. They usually live up to twenty but I am counting on at least another hundred, I mean ten, if I play my cards right.”
A hundred? I stared down at the lizard and wondered why he had so many dings and scratches.
“He looks pretty beat up, eh?” Peaches asked.
“Yeah. I guess.”
“It’s from mating. Lizards are aggressive. The females are left with battle scars. Sort of me after my marriage.” She gave a braying laugh then said, “Bertie is unusual, because the lady lizards beat up on him. So I keep him safe up here. He likes it. He follows the sun.”
Mando came out of his room, book in hand and stopped beside us, glancing down at the lizard. “I see Bertie hasn’t gone into hibernation yet.”
“He will. Maybe. But he likes human company so he may not.” Peaches took a slug of vodka and looked at me. “He sleeps in your room.”
“But don’t worry, he’s friendly. He won’t climb into your bed or anything but your closet is his little cave. Make sure when your clothes get here to hang things high and don’t put your shoes in there. There’s snails and slugs in there that I’ve been feeding him.”
Mando’s eyes widened and he blew past me. I turned to watch him take his book into my room and placed it on top of mine. My heart swelled with love because I knew he was telling me we’d spend the night together. I wondered if we’d get around to doing any actual reading.
“I keep Bertie upstairs because there are female lizards on the grounds here and I don’t want him fathering anymore babies. He feels so responsible for them and still hasn’t healed from last year’s mating season,” Peaches said. “Did I mention that we have a cricket pitch?”
“Yes, you did.” I took a sip of vodka and wanted to lick the inside of my now-empty glass.
She grabbed it from me. “Let me freshen up your drink.”
We followed her back down the stairs and when I glanced up, Bertie was at the top of the stairs looking pissed to be left out of the action.
In the massive kitchen, something smelled good.
“I just made scones,” Peaches said. She pronounced it like sconce, not like stones. “It’s my specialty. Red currants and strawberry. Take a seat.” She waved a hand at the high stools surrounding the kitchen island. She obviously knew her way around a baking pan because she sliced up what looked like a cake but had the consistency of a scone. It was out of this world. She made me another vodka and Mando guzzled down a couple.
Between us, Mando and I demolished five slices of the scone pie. Because that’s what it looked like.
“There’s one more scone left,” Peaches said. “Who wants it?”
“Don’t you want to save it for Pete?” I asked.
“Oh, no. He never eats stuff like this. Coffee, anyone?”
“I’ll have some,” said a male voice coming from the kitchen door. It was Pete and he was dripping wet. I wondered how and when he’d gotten outside but my attention was soon taken up by the fact that he wore nothing but soaking wet board shorts and they clung to him. He had no underpants on and the shorts left nothing to the imagination. Oh. Boy! He was hung like a mule. This day was getting better and better.
“Did you go swimming?” I couldn’t take my gaze from the outline of his gigantic cock.
He gave me an odd look. “No. It’s winter. I just went for a run. It’s still raining.”
Actually, it wasn’t, but I seemed to be the only one who noticed. I stared at him a moment. There was something weird about him. A word came to mind but no. I couldn’t think it, let alone say it. Maybe it was the vodka. Or the long flight. But I was starting to feel weird and I looked at Peaches.
“I’d better have coffee too,” I said, and let out a long sigh. I glanced at Mando and he was making a huge effort not to stare at Pete’s treasures. He shot a look at me and I smiled back.
“Now. We should make plans for the day,” Peaches said. “The wedding’s tomorrow and—”
“What wedding?” I asked.
“My wedding. Our wedding.” She glanced from Mando to Pete. “Didn’t Mando tell you?”
“No.” Maybe I should switch back to vodka.
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Mando said, “But they’re getting married on the cricket pitch. They both love cricket. You and I are going to be their witnesses.”
“You don’t say.” I couldn’t understand any of this. Why did they need us as witnesses? “How many people are coming?” I asked, wondering why there didn’t appear to be any wedding preparations underway.
“Just the four of us. And the minister who’s marrying us, of course.” Peaches gave Pete a goopy grin. He smiled back and they kissed. A serious, full-tongue kiss. That’s when I saw it when they parted.
Pete had a bright pink mouth and a huge, blue tongue.
* * * *
I thought I was imagining things and to be honest, I wish I had been. He joined us at the kitchen island where he sat on a stool and rubbed his hands together as she put a huge plate of greens and fruits in front of him. A strange, wilted-looking lettuce filled the surface. I stared and had to bite my lip. They looked like garden weeds topped by sliced apples, bananas, papaya—they called it paw paw—and pears, carrots, and a big handful of parsley.
Although I tried to be discreet I watched him eat. He used a fork when he felt he was being observed but his long, blue tongue slithered out when he thought nobody was looking and he slurped up his food. I couldn’t stop watching, as disgusting as it was. I focused on him and at one point he caught my gaze and picked up his fork again.
I saw it then. The shimmer. I’d never seen anything quite like it. I’ve seen plenty of ghostly ectoplasm in my time, but never anything otherworldly like this. I realized I hadn’t been wrong when the word I would have used to describe him was reptilian.
“Excuse me,” I said and rose from the table, just as Peaches put a cup of coffee in front of me.
“Your coffee will get cold, love.”
“I’ll be right back. Need to get something from my room.” As I turned to walk toward the stairs I looked over my shoulder and saw the lizard, the gigantic lizard lurking beneath Pete’s exterior.
He’s a shifter.
I’d never seen one in person though Hawaii was famous for several different kinds. In fact, our most famous one was a female mo’o, or lizard shifter. We had shark shifters, dog shifters…why was I so creeped out by Pete being one?
I was certain that Peaches knew Pete’s true nature. How could she not notice his gargantuan blue tongue? I mounted the stairs to my room but Bertie was nowhere to be found. I opened my closet door. Water pooled around the bottom of it but I noticed no slugs or debris Peaches claimed to feed Bertie there.
I closed it again, went to the hallway and when I was sure nobody was coming up the stairs, I went to her bedroom. The door was closed but I pushed it open. The place was a mess. I smelled rotting food and was astonished to see she didn’t have a normal bed but a series of woven mats on the floor. The old Hawaiians had slept that way and she was an islander after all.
Splotches of water went from the right side of the bed to her closet. I opened it, not surprised to find piles of rotting fruit, more water and a small opening that led to a set of stairs going down to what appeared to be a basement. I hesitated before taking the steps down but couldn’t help myself. I heard splashing and weird animal noises. I was shocked to see dozens of lizards in all sizes lining a rock pool. They looked up at me and en masse crawled into the water.
The place fell silent and I became aware of someone or something behind me. Breathing at my ankles. I turned and there was Bertie. He looked up at me, his eyes big and lethal-looking.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, then morphed into Pete.
“I’m a detective.” I couldn’t believe I was talking to a lizard man.
“You’re the first one to figure it out.” Pete stood, naked except for his shorts. “Are you shocked?”
“Of course. Mando didn’t warn me.”
“Mando—” Pete shrugged as his words fell away.
“Mando what?” I prompted.
“He’s the only one in his family who accepts me in it. Most of them don’t notice my tongue. Actually, because their hearts are closed, they don’t see it. Mando was the first. His mother came here that time and she didn’t see it. She just didn’t like the fact that I’m younger than Peaches. Can you imagine if she knew I was the son of a mo’o?”
“You are?” I was delighted then. “I’ve never met a mo’o.”
Pete smiled. It was a beautiful smile now that I noticed it. “Well, you’ve met one now.”
“So you are Bertie and Bertie is you?”
“Of course. I have a human name just in case we have visitors.”
“And these are mo’o?” I asked, pointing to the pool, where the lizards had started emerging again.
“My former wives and all my children. Yes.”
“How did you get to Australia?”
“Peaches bought me from a backyard zoo on the Big Island as Bertie the lizard. I morphed into a man and pretty soon she realized what I was and she brought me here. She shipped me and stayed on board with me. I love her, as she loves me.”
“And she was legally able to bring you here?”
“Oh, yes. She paid a lot to bring me here. Not as a lizard, but as a man.” His face clouded for a moment. “She got me a passport and knew I was terrified of flying. I stayed in the cabin except at night when we walked the promenade deck together. It was hard to leave my home at first, but I’d been in captivity a long time. I’d lived in a garage for twelve years. I still have nightmares about it sometimes.”
I felt terrible for him. I had so many questions, but he wanted to go back upstairs but when we arrived, he pushed at a black wooden door and next thing I knew, we were walking out of the closet in my room.
“How did that happen?” I asked, mystified.
“There are two ways down and back up again. I figured you might have some questions and we should have some privacy.”
“My biggest one is this.” I gathered my thoughts. “The legend I know of the mo’o is that she was so huge her body was a ring around the entire island of Oahu and that before Westerners arrived, the islanders worshipped her and the island was like one huge altar for her.”
“Yes that is true. She was my grandmother. My mother lived for centuries but disappeared one day. I have many brothers and sisters.”
“So you could live for centuries too?”
“Oh, yes. An earthbound blue tongue lizard gets about twenty years. The story we tell people is that Bertie’s older. In a few years we’ll have to move, but for now, we love it here. It’s lush and quiet. I have many offspring as you have seen, but I also yearned for a human life and I got it with Peaches. I want to marry her desperately. I hope you will let that happen.”
“Of course,” I said. “I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to stop you.”
“Her family does.” Pete’s eyes took on a hooded look. “Her parents stopped speaking to her when she left her husband. Her two sons took her ex’s side. They thought that beating her was okay. That he was misunderstood. They haven’t talked to her in over a year. I admit we fell for each other fast, but when you know, you know.”
I felt awful for him. And for her. “Are there any others of your kind in the islands?”
Pete looked devastated. “Oh, yes. We are many. Mando said once you understood that you’d help him find them and rescue them. If you can give them safe sanctuary you have my undying gratitude. If you want to bring them here, Peaches and I will give them a protective, loving home.”
“Is she a shifter too?”
“Not yet. We need to be married for her to become one of us. But hear this. I will always look after her. She will never know hunger or poverty or illness. She freed me from captivity. And I have freed her. Loneliness made her strong. Love has made her free.”
I thought that was a beautiful thing to hear and I wanted to help them any way I could. “You have to tell me where the others are, Pete. I want to help.”
“Before you leave I will give you a detailed map so you and Mando can start looking.”
“How many of you are there?”
“About a hundred.”
“I will do my best,” I vowed.
Over the course of the day I met all of Pete’s lizard loves. I took a real shine to a little girl lizard whose name was Sylvia. She was nervous morphing into human form but when she did, she was gorgeous. She had the same blonde-gray hair her father did. In human form she looked to be around two. She laughed a lot and climbed into my lap, eating chopped pineapple from my fingers. I just adored her and dreaded having to say goodbye to her. I understood now why Mando wanted to share all this with me.
How could we ever leave the mo’o’s family?
“She’s usually so shy with strangers,” Peaches said, marveling at her adopted daughter’s behavior with me. “She loves Mando, too.”
As for my lover, I’d never seen him so happy and animated. He sat with all the children as Pete gathered to tell them tales of long ago. I was so pleased that the Hawaii of old was alive and well in this loving family.
I still wondered why Peaches hadn’t made wedding arrangements and in the evening as Pete and the other lizards remained in human form and ate disgusting meals of salad and snails, Peaches told me that caterers would arrive in the morning with food for me and Mando.
“You’re going to have a very special Australian feast,” she said. “The company that’s delivering the food is bringing all kinds of fruit and vegetables for Pete’s family but something amazing for you and Mando.”
“I can’t wait,” I said, giving her a hug.
In the late evening after a fantastic dinner of barramundi fish with new potatoes and caramelized carrots, I took a walk around the property with Mando. He wanted to go for a swim even though it was chilly so I lounged on one of the chaises dozing on and off. I was aware of another presence and opened my eyes to find an elderly man all dressed in white.
“G’day,” he said, pointing to the chaise beside me. “This seat taken?”
“No. Please, help yourself.” I did wonder why he wanted to sit with me when there were a dozen other available chairs.
“You’re new here,” he said, as he eased himself onto it.
I smiled. “Visiting Peaches and Pete.”
“You know them?”
“I know her. Not him. My name is Dusty Brown.” He extended a hand but before we could shake, Mando splashed us from the pool.
“Come in,” he invited, before disappearing below the surface.
I turned back to Dusty. “I’m Danny Morales. You live here, I take it.”
“Sometimes.” He gave me an odd smile. “What do you think of him?”
“I like him.” I sharpened my focus on the old man. How did he know about the wedding?
“Me too. But he is a bit of a weirdo. “
Shoot. He was a ghost. How had I not known it before? “You’re her father?”
He nodded. “Sometimes.”
What the heck did that mean? I was getting sick of that response now. I tried to act upbeat. “Well, that’s great. Are you coming to the wedding?”
“I don’t think so. I know what he is. Why does she want…that?”
“She loves him.” I sat a little straighter in my chair. “It would be so nice for Peaches to have some family there.”
“Love. Ha! They all cut me off too, you know.”
“Who are you talking to?” Mando ask, hoisting himself out of the pool.
“Really? He’s here?”
I looked around. “He was.”
“Uncle Dusty?” Mando squinched his eyes and glanced around. The old man had vanished. Mando wiped his face with the towel he’d brought down from his room. “Is he coming to the wedding?”
“Doesn’t sound like it. He says the family shunned him, too.”
“Christ on a cracker. People don’t get easier when they’re dead, do they?”
“Sadly, no. They tend to remain the same curmudgeons.”
“I heard that!”
Glancing to my left I saw that Dusty was back. “He’s here,” I said.
“Good. Then tell him to be there tomorrow or I’m never visiting his grave again.”
“Do you visit his grave very often?”
“No, Danny, I don’t. But I was planning to this time.”
Wow. I would never trust Mando with our future travel arrangements. Bad driving, lost luggage, a lizard shifter wedding, a grumpy ghost and a trip to the cemetery. Fantastic!
“Let’s go back inside.” Mando reached for my hand. “My great uncle was no barrel of laughs when he was alive. He sounds even worse now.”
I winced. “He’s not so bad. He’s lonely.”
“Lonely?” Mando almost shouted. “What’s he wearing?”
“Uh, I guess white pants, shoes, shirt—”
“Cricket whites.” Mando shook his head. “He was a cricket fanatic and played late into his life. According to Peaches, he dropped dead after a particularly vigorous match in London, but the woman he was found in bed with in his hotel room was not her mother.”
Inside the house, Peaches seemed to be very excited. “Your suitcases arrived,” she said. “I think that’s a great omen, don’t you?”
“Yes.” I nodded and so did Mando. Neither of us mentioned running into her dead father and we went upstairs.
In our room we found our bags and took a quick shower. We were very respectful of water shortages everywhere by showering together. Just to be polite, you know.
“How about a power nap?” Mando asked, climbing between the sheets. “Say, this is real comfy.”
“Is it? Lemme check it out. I climbed in beside him and we lay, facing each other, a little cold then a little warm. He grabbed my cock with both hands. “I love sleeping with this in my fist.” He kissed me. “Is that possessive of me?”
“Yes, and I love it.”
He yawned. Right in my face. His eyes drifted shut. Oh, no, he wasn’t going to sleep on my watch.
“Hey,” I said, shaking me awake.
He opened his eyes, a dreamy look to them. I moved up on one elbow and gazed down at him. We exchanged hot kisses and I was excited to see that he was waking up. Fast. One look from me and he knew what I wanted. He rolled over onto his back and I dived under the covers and kissed his belly, ignoring his anxious cock just begging for my attention.
Nuh-uh. I was a busy man with places to nuzzle and knees to kiss. I pressed my lips to his hips and thighs and worked my way back to his mouth. He kissed me with such passion I almost caved in and took his cock in my mouth, but stuck to my plan. I moved down to his groin and flicked hot licks across his treasure trail then moved back down his body.
He groaned, so turned on now that he kept humping my face as I pushed my way down to kiss his knees. I moved between his legs and he opened them up to me. I plunged my face to his ass. He bucked at the new contact with my tongue. I suckled at his asshole which was hot and wet.
I slid my hands under his ass and took my mouth off him.
“Stroke your cock for me,” I commanded. He twitched and jerked as I lowered my face again, my tongue entering his ass. I reached up from his ass to lightly manhandle his balls.
He let out a cry as I squeezed them, licking his ass with a frenzied pace.
“Oh…yeah…Danny. Suck me. Oh, God, I love how you do that.”
I took my mouth off him again, watching him stroke his cock. His ass bucked and with his free hand, he twisted his left nipple. He was almost ready to burst. I took his hand away and swallowed the now-purple head in one gulp.
He let out another yelp as I slapped his balls lightly. “Oh, fuck, Danny!” His whole face changed as I released his cock and shoved two fingers deep into his ass.
“Do not come,” I insisted, “Or there will be big trouble.” I tongued him again and he reached down grabbing for my cock. I entered him hard and fast, unable to see straight as he held my hips, grinding his own against me, putting me exactly where he wanted me. “Don’t come,” I shouted. I didn’t care if our hosts heard us. I knew what drove my man crazy, and I knew he was in agony, trying to meet my demands. I took myself out of him and drew his sweet shaft back into my mouth.
He flopped on the bed from side to side, gripping the sheets, coming deep into my throat. I managed to get a couple of fingers back inside him as I sucked him dry. He was still rubbing against me as I found my way back inside him. I came so strongly I almost fell off the bed.
I fell on top of him then rolled over, taking him into my arms. After a short rest, I took his shaft and stroked it until he came all over my hand, my lips and tongue buried in his warm, sweet, ass.
For a long time afterward, I lay against him, our hard cocks straining at one another. We dozed on and off and he whispered, “I think we have company.”
I turned to look and saw a parade of lizards coming out of the closet and slinking off towards the door. They wore garlands of flowers and a couple stopped and waved. When I glanced at my cell phone and pressed the code to get into it, I was shocked to see it was seven A.M.
“Time flies when you’re having fun,” Mando said, and laughed. It sure did. We took a shower and put on clean clothes from our suitcase. Downstairs, the lizards had morphed into people and somebody was playing the piano.
“We’re gonna have a wedding,” Pete crooned as he played, “Unless someone’s late!”
He wore silver pants and a long, silver tunic. His hair shone. He really looked happy as he pounded at the piano.
Peaches, who wore a flowing white pant suit ran around, wagging a finger at him. “Naughty. Nobody’s gonna be late.”
The caterers arrived and we threw ourselves at the sumptuous feast. I’d never seen so many cakes, pies, buns, or beautifully cooked dishes in my life. The lizard children had better manners than their parents and ate with forks. Pete ate with one until he thought he was unobserved.
And then the minister arrived. The children crowded around him. They seemed very upset by his shoes. Uh-oh. Lizard skin boots under his dark pants.
My darling Mando averted some tears and drama by asking the minister to leave his boots outside the door. He complied.
It started to rain so the happy couple decided to have the wedding indoors. Pete put on a CD version of a mixed tape and everyone crowded into the living room. The bride wasn’t happy that Mando insisted she get married without a vodka gimlet in her hand.
“But it’ll get warm,” she griped.
I did the manly thing and finished it for her.
The Motorhead heavy-metal classic, Love Me like a Reptile, boomed over the sound system as Pete and Peaches held hands in front of the minister. The kids danced, but the minister looked surprised.
“That’s an unusual number for a wedding,” he murmured. He touched his forehead and seemed to sway, so Mando turned down the volume.
We started the ceremony and all those assembled seemed anxious to get back to the wedding feast, but the minister droned on and on, sticking to his old script.
“If anybody here knows any reason these two shouldn’t be married, speak now or forever hold—
“Hold on, hold on,” a voice said as Dusty Brown entered the room through the wall.
“You made it!” I was so happy Dusty was there.
“He might be a nut but I’ve never seen my daughter so happy. You can tell her I said so.”
I turned to Peaches. “It’s your father. He’s joined us for the celebration.”
The kids all saw him and little Sylvia led the charge toward him,
Peaches’ face crumpled. “He’s really here?”
“He’s really here.”
“Is he okay? Only, I miss him so much.”
“He’s okay.” I watched him for a moment. “He says he’s never seen you so happy.”
Peaches and Pete beamed at him but the minister stared at me, his hands shaking.
He raced through the service and asked Peaches and Pete to sign the wedding certificate then ran from the house. He even forgot his leather skin boots.
“I guess he has another wedding or something,” Peaches said, staring at his departing back. “Never mind. Who wants to eat?”
“Me!” everybody shouted.
Mando took my hand. “Let’s make it quick,” he whispered. “You and I have unfinished business. Upstairs.”
“No problem,” I said. And it wasn’t. No problem at all. Inside the kitchen, I wondered how I could ever leave all this love, all these lizards, and an enchanting place called Breakfast Point.
Mando grabbed my hand. “Baby,” he said. “I want to be a lizard. I want to be a shifter. Let’s do it. I want to live forever! Don’t you?”
To Be Continued
The book I am giving away is one of my favorites, The Wine-Dark Sea, recently re-released by The Pele Press.
Daniel is an elegant chair…He’s a handsome Englishman. A successful writer living in Paris, writing guidebooks that help people discover the secret delights of the city and country he loves. As for discovering the secrets to navigating the treacherous Paris social scene, Daniel himself relies on a book, which imparts some unusual advice—be an elegant chair, seen and not heard. And he’s getting a lot of practice. His last lover, Alain, is undergoing a tremendous transformation that he didn’t confide in Daniel.
His current lover, Francois, is a celebrated artist, as arrogant as he is amorous. Their needs and dramas overshadow everything, including Daniel. He is a very elegant chair…Against a backdrop of the world’s most romantic city, between rounds of sizzling sex and sensational betrayal, Alain and Francois teach Daniel about passion and pain, loss and lust, gentle humor and poignant heartache. It will take someone else, someone unexpected, to teach him about love.
Purchase Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MS99UGQ/ref=sr_1_9?ie=UTF8&qid=1484855545&sr=8-9&keywords=The+Wine-Dark+Sea
A.J. Llewellyn is the author of over 250 M/M romance novels. She was born in Australia, and lives in Los Angeles. An early obsession with Robinson Crusoe led to a lifelong love affair with islands, particularly Hawaii and Easter Island.
Being marooned once on Wedding Cake Island in Australia cured her of a passion for fishing, but led to a plotline for a novel. A.J.’s friends live in fear because even the smallest details of their lives usually wind up in her stories. A.J. has a desire to paint, draw, juggle, work for the FBI, walk a tightrope with an elephant, be a chess champion, a steeplejack, master chef, and a world-class surfer. She can’t do any of these things so she writes about them instead.
A.J. I started life as a journalist and boxing columnist, and still enjoys interrogating, er, interviewing people to find out what makes them tick.
How to find/friend me:
Newsletter sign-up: firstname.lastname@example.org – each month I give away a free ebook!
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