Millstone - Novel 01 Ch. 16

"I should have paid for my own haircut," said Tucker.

"No, you shouldn't," I said. "You're helping the police catch a killer, and they'll reimburse us for necessities, including your haircut and suit."

We had an early lunch at Lumberjack's, but unlike the previous day, we ate more modest portions as we had the event that evening, and when noon came around, we entered the tailor shop.

"Good day, gentlemen," he said. Taylor the tailor wore navy blue pants with a pinstripe vest, and his jacket hung on the rack behind the counter. He had everything ready. "I do hope you understand the difficulty I had with crafting Mr. Malor's suit in such a short time. I would like you to know that my creations are sort of like my children in a way. I put all that I have into everything that I make, so it's important to me that they go to a good home. And...,"--he studied Tucker's new appearance--"knowing what I have for you and looking at you now, I see that it's in good hands. You will love what I have made you, you will look splendid, and I wish you every happiness with it."

Each suit came fully complete and ready to wear, including underwear, socks, shoes, and every necessity.

"Winter said she would pay for our suits, but how much do we owe you for Mr. Malor's here?" I asked.

"Nothing. Winter paid for all three," he said.

"But she wasn't supposed to pay for all three," I said. "What was the total for the three of them?"

"The total came to $18,230 and some odd change."

Max and I just stood there with our mouths agape.

"You're kidding!" said Tucker. "For three suits?"

"They're unique to you," said Taylor, "especially yours, Mr. Malor. You told me you wouldn't feel comfortable in a tuxedo because they look stuffy. I guarantee you will love what I've made for you; it's probably the coolest, sexiest suit I've ever created. But in many respects, they're all handcrafted works of art, made from the finest materials that money can buy, like silkened cashmere, alpaca, spandex, full-grain deer leather, Kevlar, and many other materials."

"Kevlar?" I asked.

"Yes, I've had requests for it, so I keep it in stock. I understood from the detective that Mr. Malor required a suit that could accommodate a bulletproof vest beneath it. Well, no need for that, when I could just make him a bulletproof vest for the suit. Besides, the accommodation of the extraneous vest beneath would have a negative effect on my design."

"You're brilliant," said Tucker.

"Thank you!" said Taylor.

"The suits we ordered from the display window won't have that sort of price tag, will they?" Max asked.

"Oh, no. Those are everyday suits made of a comfortable Merino wool blend, but they're nowhere near the same class as these. Those will cost no more than $1000 each, and I have those made for me by my highly skilled apprentices. The suits you take home today, I have designed and crafted myself, just for you, although I had some assistance with yours, Mr. Malor, due to the time constraints. And I apologize for not having a preliminary fitting, but we had so little time, but I believe, however, you will enjoy yours most of all."

"If you would," he told him, "I would like it if you called me Tucker. I think I've made up my mind to change my name. I just need to find a last name to go with it."

"Very well, Tucker," he said. "Your appearance makes me think you have Scottish ancestry. There are some wonderful Scottish names you could choose from, like Tucker MacCallan, Tucker Flanagan, or perhaps Tucker Bannerman."

"Tucker Bannerman has a nice sound to it," said Max.

"I'll have to think about it," said Tucker.

Taylor laid his hand on Tucker's shoulder. "Well, whatever you decide," he said, "let it be a name that speaks to you, that helps you present yourself to the world."

"I will remember that."

When we returned to the Minotaur, we had a couple of hours before we needed to get ready. So, once we set our bags onto the table, Max undressed, and he proceeded to undress me. "You need to cum a few times before this evening," he said. "I wouldn't want you to have a problem tonight."

"Should I get undressed too?" Tucker asked.

"Not if you'd rather play with your clothes on," said Max.

I gazed over at Tucker, shucking his pants. "Playtime is a separate thing from work time, right? Because if you demonstrate that you can't keep the two things separated, this time will be the last time. Do you understand?"

"I get it," he said. "What we do, I take seriously. I won't fuck this up."

We had sufficient light from the windows to see, as the three of us daisy-chained on the bed. I sucked Max, Tucker sucked me, and Max planted his face on the bulbous end of Tucker's uncut appendage, jacking him with both hands. Due to my size and the angle of my erection, it felt a little awkward as we couldn't form anything resembling a circle. Tucker enjoyed sucking me, and it felt good, but I focused on giving my Golden Bear as much pleasure as my limited amount of practice could provide. I liked making him squirm, making him lose himself in the sensation of my tongue and lips, caressing the soft skin on the barrel of his cum gun. And despite all my previous expectations, tasting Max was like imbibing liquid joy.

Unless someone had dehumanized sex or had degraded into pathological self-absorption, it's hard not to make an attachment of some kind with the man you've pleasured and cum you've ingested. I wouldn't know if that's psychological, biological, or both, but pleasuring Max caused a far greater attachment to him than when he pleasured me. And it came from more than just the erotic sensation of the spongy end of his cock jamming down my throat or the satisfaction of my reward for a job well cum; it came from a bond built on trust, and I felt that with Max. And while playing with our close friends was fun, it wasn't necessary to sustain us.

When Max came, he began to grunt, thrusting his hips. I held it in my mouth and fed Tucker, who came, feeding Max, who in turn shared it with me.

"Sucking you, Tucker," said Max, "is like mouthing the bottom of a Mason jar. I liked it, though."

Tucker laughed. "Okay, that's a new one." He eyed my erection. "Looks like Millstone requires more effort."

"It had me in a bad angle," I said. "It wouldn't take much if I sit up."

They propped pillows behind me at the head of the bed, and they took turns blowing me. In half an hour or so, I had fed them both. Afterward, we relaxed on the bed. I lay on my back between them, my arms around them as they snuggled against me.

I patted Tucker on the ass. "Have you had a good time?"

He nodded. "Yeah, and I look forward to more times like this."

"Out of curiosity," said Max, "have you any limits? Things you won't do."

"Yeah," he said, "I'm picky about who goes into my ass, and even though I'm bi, I won't have sex with a woman again. I've had enough of that to last a lifetime."

"What do you mean," asked Max.

"A couple in their late twenties ran my group home in Baltimore, Declan and Caroline O'Neill. When I turned twelve, Declan, who instigated the whole thing, started bringing me into their bedroom, and he made me fuck his wife nearly every night, sometimes two or three times. I was smaller than I am now, but I had a big dick back then; that's one of the reasons she wanted me, but also because Declan and I both had auburn hair.

"At first, I just found it enjoyable as a new experience, but I soon realized that I had no choice in the matter as Declan wouldn't let me say no, and at that age, it never took much to get an erection even when I didn't want one. They acted like I should be grateful. That went on for about four years. He apparently couldn't have children, and she wanted some of her own. That's why my having red hair was important; they could pass my children off as his. She really liked having sex with me, so even during her pregnancies, they made me do it. I put a stop to it when I got her pregnant with our third baby; I finally got brave and desperate enough to go to the police, so they were arrested and put in jail for a long time. My uncle lawyer said he would make certain my daughter and two sons would be adopted together by a good family, and he told me that they were. My sons are Liam, who's 16, and Sean, who's 15, but my daughter Fiona is 13, I think."

"Do you know who adopted them?" Max asked.

"He wouldn't tell me for certain," he said, "because he suggested it would be best if I didn't know, but I suspect that he and his wife adopted them, and that's another reason he tends to keep up with me. I'm going to call him on Sunday to tell him how things are going."

When the time came for us to get ready, we carefully showered without wetting our hair and returned to our quarters to dress.

Each of our suits from Taylor the tailor, had an entire ensemble down to the underwear, or in Max's case, a lack thereof. Apparently, due to the color and elements of its construction, his pants were designed to be worn without. Taylor intended for Max to wear no shirt, just the white alpaca bolero jacket with metallic gold thread for the damask pattern, leaving in view enormous amounts of his pale, golden-fur-covered body. It wouldn't cover much of his pecs or any of his abdominals or lower back. His white pants, which fit like tights, were an alpaca and spandex blend. It seemed strange, but because Max wore it, he made it look incredibly sexy. As Winter's escort, however, it needed to merely coordinate with her dress.

Taylor made my tux of a black silkened cashmere with a silk lining. I thought he would go all gothic, but it looked like a typical, modern vested tuxedo, which was nice, so I could wear it at other functions.

Taylor had assessed Tucker correctly when he created his masterpiece for him. He was not accustomed to wearing fancy clothing like a tuxedo, and he said he would feel uncomfortable and out of place in it, even if he would have looked extraordinarily handsome while wearing one. His uncomfortableness would detract from his experience of them, and Taylor would never want that. He strives for his customers to feel good about his creations. Tucker's suit, for as strange as Max's seemed, had the most unique appearance. It came with an optional black shirt to wear under it, but he decided to go without. It started with black leather boots with a hidden knife sheath in both, a fully lined pair of distressed black leather pants made to fit a little snug, and he made them with a gusset to give him ample room to accommodate his hefty appendage. His double-breasted vest, trimmed in distressed black leather, Taylor had made of forest green alpaca damask backed by Kevlar and lined in silk. His sleeveless coat of distressed black leather, intended to be worn open, finished off the look showing off his nice shoulders and big arms. He looked amazing, and he loved it, just as Taylor said he would.

"Okay," said Max. "Looking at this now, I am not wearing this to the mansion. If I tried that, guaranteed, I'll have something from the cab on these snowy white pants before I get there, and that's not happening. Why couldn't she just ask me to escort her naked? That would have been so much easier, not to mention cheaper."

We had opened the boxes, bags, and suit covers to gather things together. Tucker watched me put on my sock garters and copied what I did. My father, who had a lot of style, showed me how to dress well, and he taught me everything I know about men's clothing. I used to think that sock garters looked silly, and I refused to wear them when he got them, but he told me that I could wear them like a man and be comfortable, or I could leave them off and feel the need to pull on my socks all day like a 12-year-old during gym class from the 1970s. Needless to say, half a day of wearing them had me sold.

Max and I watched Tucker don the sock garters, and I sometimes sensed he was so much younger than his years. At 28, and already the father of three teenagers, it seemed he had not experienced as much of life as he often pretended or as much as I expected, perhaps. Still, we knew so little about him. Like Wade, I hadn't wanted to use him as bait. It seemed like a good idea before we knew him at all, or when he really had no choice, but after the death of the Crows woman...

"You don't have to do this," I said to him. "If you're having any second thoughts, maybe you should listen to them."

"Millstone's right," said Max. "We could find some other way."

He stood from the bench built into the footboard of the bed where we were dressing. "I appreciate that my welfare concerns you enough to make that offer. But look, I wouldn't want you to hold the impression that I'm just some sacrificial lamb waiting for this guy to slaughter me just so you could catch him. He and Delilah victimized me, but I am not a victim. It's hard to stop someone when you don't know their identity, and they've put you on the defensive elsewhere, like with the police. I have a side of me that you've not met, and few people will, because it's not a side that I like, but he's killed people, and he burned everything I owned. I won't let him get away with that. Just let me do this, so I can focus on my new relationship with Wade and working for you guys. I think you'll find that I could help you more than you realize.

"We want him alive, ya know," said Max.

"I wouldn't kill him unless he makes me," he said, "I have a right to defend myself, but I'm not a killer. Tonight, I'm just a hunter."

"You think it's Neuhouser, don't you?" I asked.

"Maybe," he said. "If he's there, I'll know when I see him again."

When the time came for us to leave, we hired a taxi to take us there. Max surprised me when he decided to go naked to the mansion, saying he hadn't wanted to keep up with an extra set of clothing. He carefully placed what he would wear into one of the handled paper bags in which we brought home my new shirts, and we waited in the parking lot for the cab to arrive.

Max pushed at my chest through the jacket to feel for my pistol, which I was wearing. He smiled a little. "Just checking. So, how do your suits fit?"

"Okay," said Tucker in resignation, "the fit's worth letting him measure my junk."

"It's the best I've had," I said. "I'm looking forward to the other suits we ordered."

"I look forward to those too," said Max, "but I like being naked outside; it feels so freeing. You two should try this."

"If I ever did that," I said, "photos of my cock would be all over the internet within 48 hours."

"Same here," said Tucker. "But...I've been thinking, Millstone, since Bare as You Dare Day is coming up. I would join in if you would."

"Are you challenging me?" I asked.

"Yeah, why not? Let's see which of us has the guts to go through with it. So, I challenge you to stay naked for that 24 hours, join in the day's events, and generally have a good time. They might even let you enter the three-legged-race all by yourself."

Max laughed.

"Very funny," I said and squinted at him in thought. "Hmm. Alright, I'll take that challenge, and the first one to allow anybody to make us feel so uncomfortable that we quit by either avoiding the public or put on any clothes, loses."

"Deal." And we shook hands on it.

When the black London cab that we had ordered arrived, Glenn was our driver. "Hi guys," he said.

I noticed the cheerful and bouncy attitude he presented before with the sisters seemed more subdued, and I think Max detected the difference too. "Hi Glenn," I said as we climbed in. "You're at work early, aren't you?"

"Yeah," he said, "Hackney Cabs pulled in several of us two hours early. They're expecting a lot of people to need cabs tonight. Dispatch texted me that you needed a ride to the Thornbrier Mansion. Will you go naked to the party, Mr. Roche?" He pulled us out into traffic.

"No, I have my clothes with me," he said. "I've not had a chance to tell you how sorry I am for your loss. Tommy sounded like a good guy."

"Thanks, I appreciate that," he said. "I can't go to the party, but I will attend the memorial for Tommy afterward."

At the mansion, the catering truck had arrived, and many people were working out the last-minute preparations. They had filled the dining room and the ballroom with tables for the roughly 200 guests that would arrive that evening. Grey, Albert, and Wade stood inside near the front door when we arrived. They were all wearing tuxedos and looked quite handsome. The instant Wade and Tucker saw one another, they both smiled. I could tell they wanted to greet one another with a kiss, but they had to show some prudence in public until after the killer was caught.

"Good to see you," said Grey. "Max, Auntie Winter is upstairs. She wishes to speak with you and needs your assistance. She's on the first upper floor, right hallway, first bedroom to the left."

"Okay, thanks," said Max. He hugged Tucker, wished him luck, and then he kissed me. "You be careful too."

"You too," I said, and he knew why I said it.

Once Max left and Grey went to speak to the caterer, Wade and Albert took us to a secluded corner of the mansion to give us the plan. "I need you to wear this," said Wade. He attached a small black disk containing a transmitter and a microphone to the back of the lapel on Tucker's jacket. "We've tested this; it works from one floor to another, but not two floors. If you're too far away, we can't hear you."

"Got it," said Tucker.

Wade gave me an earpiece. "This receiver is pretty small, so try not to lose it inside your ear. I want you to always keep Tucker in your sights, and since the three of us doing that would look suspicious, Albert and I will keep an eye on the crowd. Here's a micro-transmitter to keep in a pocket. You touch this to speak into it, and we'll hear you. If any of us sees anything, we let the others know. Tucker, I would give you a receiver, but something in your ear looks more conspicuous than the transmitter, and you need to look natural. Let us know if you need to go upstairs to the bathroom or anything, okay?"

"Right," he said.

"And lastly," said Wade, who pulled out the ring, "you wear this. Give me your hand."

"But it's priceless," said Tucker. "What if I knock it against something and lose the stone?"

"Don't worry," he said, "the inspector rightly forbade me to use the original; this is just a 60-dollar knockoff from a local jeweler."

Tucker jutted his hand out, so Wade could put it on him, and when he did, he took his time, sliding it on slowly as he smiled at him.

"What are you doing?" asked Tucker.

"Just practicing," he said.

Tucker smirked, looked to see if anyone else had come into the room, and seeing that we were alone, he kissed Wade. "And don't worry about me," he said.

"I remember our little discussion from last night," he said and pointed at him. "Don't kill him, okay?"

"What is this?" he asked. "Everyone thinks I'm going to kill the guy. I have my priorities straight, but that's not to say that I won't hurt him, given a chance."

"No one would begrudge you a bit of smackdown," said Albert, "but know when to stop. That's all we ask."

Since the exterior walls had deep-set windows and the landscape's mature trees blocked a lot of the sun, the interior of the mansion required a lot of artificial lighting. Fortunately, it created sufficient ambient light to make keeping watch relatively easy.

Before guests arrived, Tucker and I took a small tour of the place to see where catering had taken up their temporary residence. When we looked in on the living area, where the chimney hook would find a new home inside its giant fireplace, I noticed the restorers had finished the painting that hung over the mantlepiece.

"Oh my god!" said Tucker pointing at the painting. "That's where I saw it. I thought it looked familiar. I remember now, I helped take down this painting."