boys who attracted him.
I was glad my tastes ran to the more mature, at least. I had no interest in Jimmy Ah Wong or any of his counterparts at the Boardwalk. I liked guys my own age, and hoped that would stay the same as I got older. I ended up along a side wall, watching a pool game. The players were good, a Japanese guy in his forties in tight leathers and an Anglo guy in his late twenties in tight jeans and an even tighter black t-shirt.
“You could bounce an egg on that butt,” a guy next to me said to his friend as the Anglo leaned in front of us to make a shot.
“That’s not all I’d do with it,” his friend said.
I smiled and wondered if the boys in the van could pick that one up. I drained the last of my Coke and looked at my watch. It was eleven-thirty. I wondered how late Wayne could get away from Derek. Did he have to wait until Derek was asleep? Could he just walk out?
My tension evaporated as I got more comfortable in the bar. My hands weren’t shaking any more, and I’d stopped seeing the guys around me as threats. But my adrenaline was running out, and I was getting tired. The music was on a loop, and I was getting sick of hearing Joan Osborne over and over again.
I decided I’d get one last Coke. I walked over to the back bar, where they were showing the porno videos, and waited until I could catch the bartender’s attention. It took a long time, and I was almost ready to pack it in, but I got into watching the video. By the time he brought me my soda I was sure my hard-on was a beacon visible to anybody who looked, so I slunk over to a dark corner to lean against the wall.
Then I looked toward the door and saw Wayne Gallagher walk in.
Show time.
MEN WILL SAY ANYTHING…
Wayne Gallagher moved easily through the crowd toward me, and I was glad I’d decided to wait. He walked right up to me and kissed me, putting his right hand on my butt and grinding his thigh into my hard-on. I felt like I was melting and had to struggle to stand up. He stepped back. “Want a beer?”
“Sure.” He went over to the back bar and the bartender came over to him immediately. “I don’t know if you picked it up,” I said, speaking down into my chest, “But Gallagher’s in the bar now.”
He came back a minute later carrying two beers. I took one and led the way toward a table in a far corner, where I knew the acoustics were good. I hoped he’d be following me.
He did. I sat down and moved the other chair so it was right next to mine, and patted the seat. He sat and immediately stuck his tongue in my ear.
It was like he could read my mind, knew exactly what to do to make me feel like jelly. I had to do whatever I could to retain control. “So where’s Derek tonight?”
Wayne sat back in his chair. “Home whining. He met this guy who claims to be his grandfather, and he asked the guy for money and the guy said no. So Derek pulled a hissy fit. But you know,” he said, stroking my thigh, “he and I have a very open relationship. He knows I like a little variety in my diet and he doesn’t mind.”
“Mmm-hmm.” I felt the touch of his fingertips on the sensitive inside of my thigh and it was all I could do to keep from squirming. “I know he was pretty broken up when his father died.”
“Yeah, Tommy was good to him. But I’m not sorry he got whacked. There was no way he was ever going to make me the manager of the bar.”
“But still, it was a point of honor for him, having to do something about the guy who killed his dad.”
Wayne gave me a look, and I could see I’d gone too far too fast. “So it was a good thing the guy committed suicide,” I said. “Must have made it easier on Derek.”
“I don’t want to talk about Derek.” Wayne’s hand crept up to my crotch, where I could feel its warmth against my erection. “Let’s talk about you. What do you like?”
“Oh, I like surfing,” I said. “And I swim a lot. Read when I can-I like mystery novels. Cooking. I like to barbecue, and help out when we have family luaus.” I could sense I was babbling, but didn’t know how to stop.
“Not that stuff, silly.” Wayne took the hand that had been on my crotch and ran it up my chest slowly. “I mean, what do you like? Are you a top or a bottom? I’ll bet you like to get it up the ass, don’t you?”
My throat was dry, and I could feel the sweat dripping down my back, even though the bar wasn’t hot. I picked up my beer and my hand shook so much that I spilled a little on the table. “You’re so tense,” Wayne said. “I know how to relax you.”
“Maybe we should just talk for a few minutes. I am kind of nervous.”
“We can talk.” Wayne pulled his hands back and took a drink of his beer. “How long were you a cop?”
“I was a patrolman for five years, and got my detective shield two years ago. I’ve been stationed in Waikiki since then.”
“So you used to wear a uniform?”
“I still have it. You know, sometimes you have to wear it to department things.”
“I like a man in uniform. Maybe you can wear it for me sometime.”
“We’ll see,” I said, and I looked him straight in the eye. He stared back at me, and then licked his lips. I was the one who had to look away.
And when I did I saw Harry Ho come in the door of the bar. Shit, I thought. I told them all to stay in the truck. He looked directly at me and nodded toward the back of the bar, where the rest rooms were, and I caught on. “I’ve got to go to the little boys’ room,” I said, pushing my chair back. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“I can go with you. Give you a helping hand.”
“You’ll get yours,” I said, smiling. For good measure, I leaned over and licked around the outside of his ear. “I promise,” I whispered. He shivered a little, and I thought, good, two can play at this game.
Harry was just in front of me as we walked into the men’s room. Two guys were primping and gossiping at the mirror, and so Harry took my hand and led me into an open stall. It was tight in there, but I twisted around and closed the door. As I did I caught a glimpse of the two queens in the mirror, nodding approvingly. “What’s up?” I whispered.
“You stopped transmitting,” he whispered back. “Turn around.”
I turned and he fiddled with my shirt collar. “Jesus, you’re dripping wet. No wonder it shorted.” He pulled a long strip of toilet paper off the roll and wrapped it around the wire. It was a little more noticeable now, but he thought it would hold up better. “I won’t know if it’s working until I get back to the van,” he said. “If you don’t see me again, you’ll know it’s fine.”
“This is hard, Harry.”
“I noticed,” he said dryly. “Those pants don’t leave much to the imagination.”
I couldn’t help laughing, and that made me feel a little better. “I mean talking to him. He keeps, you know, fooling with me.”
“That’s what he thinks you’re here for. As long as he keeps it up, and I do mean that both ways, that means he doesn’t suspect anything.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I gave him a shaka. “Wish me luck.”
He gave it back to me. “You don’t need luck. You know what you’re doing. Just do it.”
By the time I got back to the table Wayne had a pair of fresh beers there for us. “You just want to get me drunk so you can have your way with me,” I said.
“That thought did cross my mind,” he said, smiling.
I wondered if I’d be doing this for real soon. Not with Wayne Gallagher, of course, but with somebody else. Would I be cruising these bars, looking for a little fun? Would I duplicate the same pattern I’d had with women, meeting and mating at random intervals, never able to settle down for a long-term relationship? Thinking of that turned out to be just the tonic I needed, relieving the aching hard-on in my pants and letting me steer the conversation back to safer subjects.
We talked for a while, through another set of beers, and I found myself seeing good things in Wayne besides the dangerous sexuality he oozed. He was smart and witty, knew a lot about books and art and music. I almost found myself hoping he was innocent, that it had been two other guys who’d forced Evan Gonsalves to eat his gun.
