Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 3

an erotic experience. Now that was just fucked up. But it was true.
    He turned toward the jet spray that rained down on him. He turned his face up and closed his eyes. Using the liquid soap–a rather expensive brand he noticed, and a sea sponge, he began to soap himself up. Clean. He wanted to be clean for Will. He wished his mind, his memories were half as clean as his body was going to be.
    As he soaped himself he thought of Will dressed in the black riding outfit. Old world, dapper, dangerous, confident. Sinn had never been that confident when he was Will's age. He wished he had been. He soaped down his body, jerked his white-foamed hand up and over his prick, as he thought about Will. He soaped his balls, then turned and let the water beat against his back.
    Sexy as hell. But who was he? Sinn had a very strong sense that they weren't strangers at all. Either here or in another life they had known each other, but in what capacity? He was really much younger than anyone Sinn would have hung around with when he lived in Montana. Where had they met? He had to have come from the same town or how would he have known about Sinn's background? He'd buried that as deep as he could when he'd changed his name. No one in Seattle, in his current circle knew about a man named David Garner. Sinn had killed him off, buried him, and hadn't looked back. So why did he feel like David was being resurrected?
    He reached up to the wet thong still tied around his neck. Why? What was Will trying to prove? What did he want Sinn to remember? Or more to the point, why did he want Sinn to remember? He opened the rusty door that led to the past. Sifted through those old memories. Lifted them up and examined them.
    Horse whisperer!
    Something niggled at the back of his brain. He had known a kid like that.
    Photographer.
    It couldn't be. Not him.
    Good with his hands. Special hands.
    He dropped the sponge, closed his eyes, and felt all the blood drain from his body. The water sprayed him clean as he stood there frozen in time. Remember a dark-haired elfen boy with big sapphire eyes. Watching him and Bobby in the garage making music. Always watching them.
    Jesus!
    He turned off the water, then yanked back the curtain. Dripping wet he stood there. He looked at the door–at the man standing there. Raven black hair, sapphire blue eyes. No kid, no elf. Will stared back. Legs astride, the whip clasped between both hands, meeting Sinn's gaze.
    Sinn fought for his control. Slowly he stepped from the shower onto the stark white tile floor, grabbed the thick, black bath towel from the rack affixed to the wall, and toweled himself dry. Stroked over his thighs, between his legs, beneath his armpits.
    Will set the crop aside and stepped into the bathroom, took the towel, turned Sinn and dried his back. Down over his ass, between the crease. Drying him thoroughly. Sinn felt paralyzed by the memories, by the surety of exactly who Will was.
    And then slowly the world starting moving again, spinning faster and faster. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Will spread the towel out to dry. That's when he went for him. Spun him around with brutal hands, shoved him back out the door, down onto the mat, straddling him, pinning him to the mat.
    Oddly, Will didn't struggle. He lay complacently beneath Sinn staring up at him with confident sapphire eyes. Of course, he had possessed the knowledge the whole time.
    "You've been stalking me, haven't you?" Sinn said. Angry and aroused both as his cock rubbed against Will's bulging erection. "All this time you knew exactly who I was, damn you. You knew and you tried to hide it."
    "I didn't try to hide anything, you just didn't want to see it. Davy."
    "Don't call me that," Sinn shouted. "David is dead. I killed him. My name is Sinn. Sinn Midnite."
    "All right. Sinn. If that's what you want to be called, then that's what I'll call you."
    He was doing exactly what he had done when he was a kid. Sinn and Bobby had remarked on it on occasion. The way he had of dealing with wild things. He'd kept a small menagerie of hurt things out in the barn. Sinn recalled that small back room that he'd claimed for his animals.
    "Why are you here?" Sinn asked. Letting Will remove his grip, then easing up from beneath Sinn.
    He stood and brushed himself off. He helped Sinn to his feet. He stroked a hand down the side of his face, brushed back a strand of his wet hair. "First, does it really matter how we got here? How many times did I ask you