Chapter 1
“Who is that beautiful young girl?” The Nation’s Top Male Model, Mark Antonious Richfield, glanced at the two middle-aged women standing at the rail of a Sunday riding event. In the misty early summer rain of Paradise, California, he said to them, “That’s my son. Isaac.” The two women gave him a look as if they were either highly embarrassed or stunned. Mark couldn’t care less what they thought. His eight-year-old son, Isaac Milton Richfield, excelled at show jumping. His mare, Brandy Dancer, also appeared to enjoy the challenge since her ears were high on her head and her tail swished excitedly. Along with Mark to watch the event, was his husband and business partner, Steven Jay Miller. Steve cheered Isaac, or ‘Zak’ on, as if this were a baseball game. Next to Steve was Jack Charles Larsen. Jack, Mark’s best friend since college, worked with Mark and Steve at their garment manufacturing firm, Richfield-Miller International in Sacramento. He was their in-house attorney. Sitting on Jack’s high broad shoulders was Mark’s third son, seven-year-old Jacob Bentley Richfield. Jacob, a blue-eyed blond, like his mother, Mark’s ex-fiancée Sharon Tice, had tried the riding competitions, but didn’t take to it as well as his older brother. Jacob, or ‘Jake’ held onto Jack’s head as Jack also shouted, cheering on Mark’s darling son. The whispering from the two women near Mark began to annoy him. Yes, he was aware because Isaac preferred his brown hair long, had lovely green eyes with thick dark eyelashes, and feminine features, looked like a girl. At his age, Mark had the same issue. Although he was teased relentlessly. Since Mark was in his fifties now, and times were quite different back when he was a lad, Isaac wasn’t getting harassed for his androgynous beauty. Noticed, yes, bullied, not so much. Not at school, not at home, and certainly not whilst riding with this show jumping group. Yes, Isaac was the only lad competing. The rest of the show jumpers here were little girls. Mark adjusted his jacket collar and sunglasses. He wore them even in the dim drizzle hoping no one recognized him from his ubiquitous Dangereux Cologne ads. Mark put his arm around his Steven as the love of his life cheered Isaac on to another victory and blue ribbon. ~ LAPD homicide lieutenant Jeff Chandler, gasped as his robbery detective husband, Mickey Stanton, gave him a good fucking. Jeff, lying on his back on their bed in their Malibu beach house, gazed at his hunky blue-eyed man. Mickey stilled his hips as he climaxed, and Jeff felt the pulsating deep inside his body. “Oh, fuck, that feels so damn good.” Mickey pulled out and sat on his heels, catching his breath. Jeff had already come, enjoying a blowjob from Mickey right before Mickey fucked him. As they recuperated, recovering from a hot bout of sex, Jeff heard his cellphone chime. It was located on the nightstand. Mickey rolled to his back beside Jeff heavily as Jeff picked up the phone and read the message. “Shit.” “What?” Mickey asked, touching Jeff’s skin with his fingertips. “Possible homicide.” Jeff responded to the message, then sat up and looked at his naked body and soft cock. “Damn.” Jeff rose from the bed and entered the bathroom to clean up. He gazed into his green eyes in the mirror’s reflection and ran his hand over his brown hair. Yes, he was on call this weekend. He loved his job. But at times, especially weekends or holidays, being hauled back into LA from Malibu sucked. Jeff quickly washed up, then dressed in his business suit while Mickey stayed naked on the bed, watching him. “Let me know if you’ll be home for dinner,” Mickey said. “You got it. Hopefully, it’s natural and I’ll be off the hook.” Jeff checked his gun and clipped the holster to his waist belt. He grabbed his badge, ID, phone, and keys, then leaned over Mickey, kissed his lips, and said, “See ya.” “See ya.”
