CopyCat (3 page)

Of course, not all savants are autistic, though about half of them are. Nor are all autistic people savants—actually only about ten percent of the millions of people who have been diagnosed. So there you have it. I was a fucking savant, I guess, and I didn’t know whether to be happy about it or feel kind of embarrassed. It made me a freak, you see, or that’s how it felt sometimes anyway. My grandfather told me I was looking at it all wrong. He told me I was a genius, and had remarkable
focus
, as he called it. He told me he was really proud of who I was.

My art teachers had discovered my so-called talent in school and it gave my grandfather hope, I think, that this skill would provide me with some kind of vocation in life. He worried about me both because of the Asperger’s and because he was my only surviving relative since my parents’ death.

Like I said, when I was almost twenty-one, Grandfather found Steven Oswald, a local dealer in the arts, and convinced him to look at my work. Within a month Steven Oswald had sold my first painting, which he called a
reproduction
. I received several hundred dollars for it and after that I worked hard on various assignments Steven Oswald would give me. Like if someone wanted a high-end reproduction of a Gauguin or a Matisse or Renoir for their living rooms. I even made a little money, though my grandfather was more concerned that I had something to hold my interest.

It was in October of that same year that my grandfather passed away. It hadn’t been unexpected. Grandfather had spent many hours talking to me after he’d been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer a few months before, explaining to me why I needed to stay focused and not descend into a depression after his death like I had when my parents were killed.

I’d known since I was very small that I could retreat into my mind when I wanted to and not be aware of the outside world—kind of like I did in the detectives’ office when they kept badgering me with questions I couldn’t answer. It wasn’t necessarily an Asperger’s thing—this was just a
me thing
, and it was what my grandfather worried about the most, my withdrawing into my own world. But I was fine after his death and for a long time after that—up until the thing with the police, actually. I missed my grandfather very much, but the depression after he was gone was manageable, and I felt like I was in control of it.

And I was finally able to be myself in another way that I never could before too, at least not without totally freaking my grandfather out. I had always known I didn’t get excited by the way girls looked or smelled, though they smelled sweet and flowery when they tossed their hair and smiled at me. Boys, though—well, that was a different story.

In school, I went to normal classes for the most part, and really enjoyed my science, and of course, my art classes. In those classes, the girls all wanted to sit near me and talk to me for some reason, but it was the other guys I most admired and felt drawn to in
that
way. Not that I ever did anything about it, of course. I was way too shy to ever approach anyone.

But after my grandfather passed, I began to go out occasionally to a hotel bar known as a meeting place for gay men. I’d read about it online and I sometimes met men there at the bar for quick, casual hook-ups, which was all I was interested in—a nice-looking, hard body to satisfy my urges. Later on, after I met Miguel, the visits stopped.

After the arrests and the hearing, and once I’d been home and on my own for a few weeks, I began to get restless again. It had been two days before, on my first visit back to the hotel bar in over two years, that I met Connor Todd.

I dressed carefully that night, wearing my nicest dark jeans and a white t-shirt, with a navy blue sweater. I’d let my dark hair fall down to barely skim my shoulders, and I’d shaved carefully and used some of the expensive cologne Miguel bought for me. I knew I looked good, and a lot of heads turned when I walked into the room. I had taken a seat at the bar and right away the bartender, who was new to me since the old days when I used to visit, gave me a smile and came over to take my order. Self-consciously, I tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and ordered a beer.

“Can I see your ID?” he asked, and I slid it from my shirt pocket to let him look at it.

“Sorry,” he said, with a brilliant smile. “You do look young though. I haven’t seen you in here before—I would definitely have remembered.”

I smiled at his flirting. He was about my size, with sandy hair and pretty hazel eyes. He was wearing a wedding ring, though, so I kept my tone polite and casual. “I used to come sometimes, but it’s been awhile,” I said and waited while he got my beer. He’d just set it down in front of me, and I hadn’t even had a chance to take a sip when someone slid onto the barstool next to me.

I turned to look up into beautiful sea green eyes. “Hi. Mind if I sit here?”

I took a good look at him and liked what I saw right away. He was very handsome—tall and muscular, with short blond hair and a tanned, rugged face. He looked a little like a cop. His accent wasn’t southern like mine—more like the way they talked on television, so maybe California. He was wearing a dark gray suit, with his red tie loosened at the throat. The most amazing thing about him was his beautiful green eyes that sparkled at me as he kept glancing in my direction.

I smiled up at him. “No, I don’t mind at all.”

He didn’t say anything to me for a couple of minutes, drinking his beer and pretending he hadn’t already checked me out when I knew he had. After all, the bar was pretty much empty, yet he sat down right next to me. He had broad shoulders and the bulge I’d glimpsed in his pants promised an interesting evening ahead. I finished my beer and signaled to the bartender and the big blond turned toward me. “I’ll pay for this round. Would you like another beer?”

“Yes, please.”

He ordered and then turned his attention back toward me. “I wasn’t sure you were old enough to be in here until I saw the bartender check your ID.”

“I’m older than I look,” I said quietly. I looked up at him from under my eyelashes, deliberately flirting. “I’m almost twenty-three.”

He quirked up an eyebrow and smiled down at me. “Really? So old?” he said teasingly.

“Yes.”

“Are you from around here, or staying at the hotel?”

“I live here in town. I just came here tonight to get fucked by somebody. It might as well be you, I think.”

He almost choked on his beer and set it quickly back down on the bar. “Goddamn…are you always so blunt?”

I lifted one shoulder. “Is there any reason I shouldn’t be?”

He leaned closer, and I could smell his clean masculine scent and a hint of aftershave. “No,” he said. “No reason at all.”

I drained the beer left in my glass in one long gulp. I could feel his gaze on my throat and I liked the way he watched me. I put the glass back down on the bar and stood up. “Are you ready?”

He looked almost confused at how quickly things were going, but he gulped down another sip and put his glass on the bar too. “Uh...yeah, I’m ready, babe. Do you want to go to my room?”

“Yes,” I said and moved up closer to him. He put his hands on my shoulders to steady me, or maybe to keep me away and glanced nervously around the bar.

“Let’s go,” he said, threw down some bills and took my elbow to steer me close to his side as we left the room. We walked quickly to the nearby elevators, and he let go of my arm as we waited with a group of other people for the car to come down. I stayed carefully next to him, not touching him, since public displays of affection obviously made him nervous.

When the doors opened I stepped inside and moved all the way to the back. He got in behind me, along with an elderly couple and another businessman who was juggling his briefcase and his luggage. Since my blond stood in front of me, I reached down and gently cupped a hand on one ass cheek just to watch him jump. He angled a stern look over his shoulder at me and brushed away my hand as we reached the businessman’s stop. We watched him get off awkwardly with his suitcases. Ours was the next stop and my blond stepped off smartly at his floor, not even glancing back to see if I followed.

When he heard the doors close, however, he turned around and glared at me so severely I couldn’t help laughing. He shook his head and smiled then too, and took my hand to draw me down the hall to his room. He fumbled a little with the key, and I wondered if he was nervous. It was kind of nice if he was.

I followed him inside and kicked the door closed behind me. When he turned around in surprise, I grabbed his tie and backed him up against the door. He had four or five inches on me, so I knew he could pick me up and fuck me up against the wall if he wanted to, but I liked the idea of pretending to be the aggressor for a while. I unbuckled his belt and he watched me, his hands on my shoulders, his breath coming a little faster. I slipped his pants and his underwear down at the same time, exposing his very impressive cock, and I slid down to my knees in front of him, giving his twitching cock a little kiss on the tip as I went—a promise of things to come.

My lips touched his scrotum and he made a soft sound deep in his throat. His hard cock bobbed at my face and I wrapped my lips around it. He put his hands on my head, not forcing me, but simply carding his fingers through my hair. I licked the head of his pretty, dark pink cock, all around the glans, tasting it. It was salty and musky and smelled clean with just a hint of masculine sweat. He thrust his hips forward a little and his dick slid into the back of my mouth. I swallowed around it, and he bucked so hard I had to ease up a little. He was breathing hard and making little moaning sounds that I liked a lot. I teased the vein underneath his shaft, following it all the way down and then back up to lap around the head again.

His hands were tightening in my hair and he was moaning low words of encouragement. I cupped his balls and teased his perineum, raking my nails gently, gently across it. He cried out and thrust harder into my throat. I took him all, my gag reflex being nearly non-existent. Continuing to suck him up and down in a hard rhythm, I stuck a finger up to his soft, tight hole and he jerked, a low growl coming from his throat. Pre-cum spilled across my tongue, but before I knew it, he was pulling at my shoulders, easing me up and off him.

He gathered me in his arms and kissed me hungrily as he walked me back toward the bed. The backs of my knees hit the edge, and then he was lifting me up and tossing me gently down on my back. He smiled down at me as he shucked off his clothes. “You said you wanted to get fucked. I aim to please, baby.”

I smiled up at him languidly and began to push down my jeans. He helped by pulling off my shoes and then tugging on my pants legs. Soon I was naked from the waist down and I saw him looking with appreciation at my own cock. It wasn’t as large as his, but it was a decent size and fairly thick. I was hard as a rock and sat up to pull my shirt and sweater over my head. I wanted no barriers between us.

I had barely settled back on the bed before he spread my thighs and dipped his head to envelop my cock in velvet heat. I looked down at him and watched him suck me off, his pretty lips stretched around my dick. I couldn’t stop the whimpers that came from my throat. He was talented with his tongue and soon had me bucking and arching on the bed. I cried out and he pulled off to take my lips and muffle my cries with his mouth.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmured to me, holding himself up on his elbows and staring down at me. “When I saw you walk in the bar tonight, I couldn’t believe it. I thought, no way could I be so lucky, yet here you are in my bed.”

I smiled at him again. “Here I am.”

He dropped another soft kiss on my lips and trailed kisses down my throat. Impatiently, I thrust up against him, wanting to move things along, pushing my aching cock against his stomach and grinding into him a little. “Slow down, baby. We have all night.”

I moaned and he smiled at me, touching my hair. “So soft and silky. Black as a raven’s wing, my grandmother would have said. Unusual with those blue eyes, but very sexy.”

“You’re not so bad yourself. If only you weren’t such a cocktease.”

His eyebrows went up in surprise and he chuckled. “Is that what I am? Technically, I think a person is only a cocktease if they refuse to put out. And I have every intention of doing just that, sweetheart.” He stretched my hands over my head and humped me playfully a couple of times. “Grab onto the rails and I’ll show you.”

Excited, I nodded my head, watching him hungrily. He reached for a condom and some lube in the bedside table drawer, and quickly smoothed on a condom as he watched my face. He smiled at me and dropped another kiss on my straining cock, then pushed my knees toward my head. I felt his wet fingers rubbing my hole and then slipping inside to stretch me. He took his time, even though I was whimpering and thrusting my hips at him, trying to impale myself on his fingers. Finally, he was ready and I felt him nudge his cock into me. He was big, so it hurt a little, but his hand wrapped around my cock and moved up and down my shaft when my erection began to flag. It soon rebounded with a vengeance as he pushed deeper in and touched my prostate. He thrust hard up against that spot again and again. I was seeing stars, and spirals of pleasure rippled through me.

He pulled again at my cock and before I could stop it I was spilling helplessly, pushing against him and biting his neck, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make my mark on him. His own hips strained then and his hot ejaculate filled the condom deep inside me. After a moment he collapsed down on top of me, his mouth moving to
my
neck, where he sucked at me.

After a long, floaty moment, he eased up and went to the bathroom, bringing back a warm cloth to tenderly clean me. Then he fell down beside me and murmured something that sounded like
sweet boy.
His breathing deepened and within minutes, he was asleep, his arm around my waist, his big legs tangled with mine. I closed my eyes too, suddenly so tired and so warm in his arms I didn’t want to get up. Telling myself I’d lie there for only a few minutes, I closed my eyes and drowsed in my lover’s arms.