With This Ring Read online

  With This Ring

  By J.M. Snyder

  Published by JMS Books LLC

  This book is also available in print.

  Visit http://www.jmsnyder.net for more information.

  Copyright 2007 J.M. Snyder

  ISBN 978-1-61152-026-2

  Cover Credits: Karibella

  Used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

  Cover Design: J.M. Snyder

  All rights reserved.

  WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America.

  NOTE: This story was originally published by Amber Allure Press. Readers can learn more about Vic and Matt’s super-powered relationship online at vic-and-matt.com.

  * * * *

  With This Ring

  By J.M. Snyder

  Chapter 1

  As he stood in line at the grocery store, Vic Braunson wished he’d thought to go shopping for New Year’s necessities earlier in the week. In his basket, he had various bottles of wine, some spreadable cheeses and gourmet crackers to put them on, fresh grapes, pineapple chunks, tortilla chips, fresh salsa… nothing that wouldn’t have held up in the fridge for a few days. But no, having the day off from work wasn’t enough reason for him to stay home. He had to let his lover Matt diLorenzo drag him out into the traffic and crowds that descended on shopping centers during any holiday. As if they hadn’t had their share of this madness the week prior, at Christmas.

  Now Vic waited in a line that he’d swear hadn’t moved since he pushed his cart into it, but a glance behind him showed he was luckier than most—the line stretched away down one of the aisles, with no real end in sight. At least Vic was close enough to the registers to think he’d get out of the store sometime before midnight. And he had reading material, if tabloids counted. He’d have someone to talk with, too, if Matt hadn’t run off to get a carton of eggs. “I’ll be right back,” he’d assured Vic…what, ten minutes ago? How long did it take to elbow through the old ladies crowding around the cold case?

  Vic felt someone staring at him and cast a mean glare around, only to find a small child in the next lane grinning his way. The child was a little girl, three or so, whose gossamer blonde curls peeked from beneath a blue woolen cap that matched her eyes. For a moment Vic studied her, unnerved. She reminded him of his sister, Mary, whom he’d last seen…when? God, he didn’t know how long it had been. Twenty years, easily, maybe more. Just thinking of her again bothered him.

  With a hooded expression, Vic glowered at the child. Her eyes widened at his pissy look, then she laughed and clapped her hands, as if he’d just done a trick. Under his breath, he growled softly. Her laughter broke around him like glass. Running a hand down his face, Vic stretched out with his mind and tried to find his lover’s consciousness in the mad rush of the store. ::Matty, where the hell did you get to?::

  A warm rush of love filled Vic, causing him to stagger against his cart from the sheer weight of the emotion. He felt invisible arms encircle his chest, and his lover’s psyche pressed against him, heavy, unseen. ::Just grabbing a few things,:: his lover replied. An image flashed in Vic’s mind—the eggs Matt had gone off in search of but also a carton of milk, some wrapping paper marked down after the holiday, a few other items that looked like impulse buys to Vic. What more did they need to get? This was just supposed to be a quick stop to pick up some things to help ring in the new year…

  Vic saw Matt reach for a bag of freshly ground coffee. ::This is on sale,:: Matt told him, juggling the items he held in his arms to make room for the coffee. ::You like this kind.::

  ::I’m getting lonely here,:: Vic admitted. Then, to his surprise, the line in front of him moved, bringing him a step closer to the register. ::Come on, Matty. I’m next in line.::

  His lips tingled as if kissed. ::Be right there. This is a good deal, though. I can’t just pass it up.::

  Vic groaned and rolled his eyes. Leave it to his lover to continue shopping when they were already halfway out the door. He’s lucky I love him like I do.

  In the lane beside him, the little girl laughed again. Without thinking, Vic dipped into her mind and found her name, Kayley. She was three, though in her thoughts, that number was associated with four fingers. She loved her cat, her mom, and the blue hat she wore, and for some reason when she looked at Vic, she thought of pink bubbles. Vic, with his shaved head, black tribal tattoo curved around one temple, and multiple piercings that winked from his ears and eyebrows. Vic, whose trim goatee gave him a devilish appearance and whose arms bulged with muscles beneath a black leather jacket covered with silver chains and spiked studs. Pink bubbles? What the hell?

  With a shake of his head, he dismissed her. Since he’d become telepathic, he’d realized most people didn’t have anything much going on inside their minds. Just random thoughts or snippets of songs or strange images Vic couldn’t begin to understand. It had taken him months to learn to tune all that shit out. The only person whose mind he cared about was Matt’s.

  Which was fitting, really, since it was Matt who gave him the ability to read minds in the first place.

  It came from loving Matt, literally. Something in his semen sparked superhuman powers in Vic, for some reason neither of them had yet figured out. But since they’d been together, Vic had found himself the recipient of a plethora of abilities that seemed to come straight out of comic books. The telepathy was just one of them, and the most constant. It had appeared the first time they consummated their relationship, along with a super power that enhanced Vic’s already impressive strength. Before he met Matt, he could bench-press more than anyone else at the gym where he worked out. Now, after Matt? He could lift a city bus without breaking a sweat.

  They’d been together five years now. Vic had grown used to the powers, though every time they made love it was like a game of Russian roulette. What ability would he get next? In the beginning, Vic had thought the power he drew depended only on their position during sex, but over time, he realized other factors came into play as well. What they wore, what they thought, where they were. Sex standing in the shower at home gave him the ability to fly, but a slower fuck in the showers at the gym made him phase through solid objects. Missionary style in the bedroom, Matt on top, made Vic invisible; the same position, on the living room floor, with Vic straddled above his lover, gave him a form of heat-ray vision that had burned his hands before he’d learned to control it. The powers ran the gamut from awesome to crappy, and more than once Vic had called in sick to work because of them. Vic thought them an annoyance, nothing more—he loved Matt, utterly and completely, and refused to let something as stupid as the powers bestowed upon him during sex tear them apart.

  Matt, on the other hand, hated the powers, particularly when they put Vic in danger. But what was Vic supposed to do? Leave a woman trapped in her fiery car after a crash on the interstate, w
hen he could tear through the metal and get her out? Ignore the pleas of children whose school bus dangled precariously on the edge of a bridge when he could hold the vehicle aloft with his mind while they escaped safely? Pretend he couldn’t help out when people so obviously needed him? The powers came from Matt, yes. They were his gift, Vic knew that. But when he found himself in a position where he was needed, where his abilities would save lives…how would he ever be able to live with himself if he turned his back on that responsibility?

  * * * *

  The line shuffled forward again, bringing Vic closer to the register. Now he stood just outside the gauntlet of trashy magazines and candy bars that grocery stores stocked at the front to entice customers. Turning his back on the little girl, who still laughed at him for whatever reason, Vic frowned at the magazines and sent out another mental probe to find his lover. Matt was in the frozen section, debating over microwavable potato skins or a spinach-artichoke dip. His arms overflowed with things he’d picked up as he ran around the store. When he felt Vic’s presence in his mind, Matt asked, ::What do you think? The dip would be good on those chips we have.::

  ::We don’t really need it,:: Vic told him. ::We picked up some salsa already. I thought we were done shopping.::

  Matt laughed. An image filled Vic’s head—the bright yellow price tag hanging below a box of the potato skins. ::They’re on sale.::

  That phrase was Matt’s catch-all answer whenever they went shopping. Which is why I usually stay home, Vic thought as he glanced over the tabloids. Celebrities he didn’t know paraded across the covers, and headlines splashed like shocked exclamations cried out for Vic’s attention. Every magazine seemed to have the same people on it, each story conflicting with the others. So-and-so’s pregnant; no, she’s not. This one does drugs; no, wait, he’s in rehab. One moment she’s overweight, the next she’s anorexic. Who read this shit? Who really cared?

  He felt a nudge in his thoughts, and then Matt prompted, ::Vic? Which should I buy?::

  Vic shrugged, then realized his lover wasn’t around to see the gesture. ::Get them both,:: he told Matt, ::if they’re on sale. It’s not like they’ll go to waste.::

  Down near the bottom of the magazine rack, the word GAY caught his eye. Vic squatted to peer at Weird World News, a tabloid that tried to give itself an air of legitimacy with its black and white newsprint format. Or maybe the magazine was too broke to afford color ink—instead of the usual celebrity gossip that graced the covers of the other magazines, this one seemed to thrive on Bigfoot sightings and alien abductions. The headline that had snagged Vic’s attention started, Inmate says ex-GAY lover… The rest was hidden behind the plastic guard that held the magazine in place.

  Because he was bored, and because the words were written in such cheesy, lurid letters, Vic tugged a copy of the tabloid free from the rack. He smoothed down the cover, read the full headline, and felt a rush of adrenaline flood his system and cloud his mind. Elsewhere in the store, Matt felt the change and misinterpreted it. ::I’m almost there,:: he assured his lover. ::I see the cart. Where are you?::

  Vic stood, tabloid fisted in his hands. Paper tore around his fingers as his thoughts whirled out in every direction. He didn’t. Oh, God, he didn’t.

  The headline twisted beneath Vic’s angry grip.

  Inmate says ex-GAY lover gave him SUPER POWERS during SEX.

  Only a handful of people knew of Matt’s ability. Matt himself, of course. Vic. A police officer Vic had confided in a year and a half earlier when Matt had been kidnapped.

  And the former friend who had stolen Matt from Vic because he wanted Matt’s powers for himself. Jordan Dubrowski. Currently serving back-to-back sentences in a maximum-security prison for multiple offenses, among them abduction, attempted rape, intent to sodomize, and sexual assault.

  With hands that trembled from barely suppressed rage, Vic tore through the tabloid. He found the story near the end—one page of cramped typeset and a grainy photo of a shadowy man behind bars was all the publication allowed in the article. Jordan’s name wasn’t mentioned, but Vic knew it was him, it had to be him. The story opened, In the heart of Virginia…

  Three paragraphs in, Vic saw his lover’s name in stark letters.

  Shit.

  Items clattered into the shopping cart behind Vic. He glanced over his shoulder to find Matt grinning at him, black curls disheveled as he ran a hand through them to push them out of his face. His dark green eyes shone bright with happiness, as if this were the only place he wanted to be. Leaning across the basket, he smoothed a hand up under the hem of Vic’s jacket and scratched his nails over the small of Vic’s back. “Hey, sexy. Miss me?”

  Vic didn’t trust himself to speak. Instead he turned, and Matt’s hand eased around his waist to rub through Vic’s T-shirt over his taut stomach. The ticklish touch barely registered in Vic’s swirling mind. Thrusting the tabloid toward his lover, Vic demanded, “Look at this.”

  For a moment, Matt studied the cover of the tabloid. His gaze roamed over the newsprint, obviously trying to find whatever it was Vic wanted him to see. Finally, he said, “I know Mrs. K has a lot of cats, and I’ll admit I don’t understand half of what she says when she goes off in Polish, but do you really think that makes her a witch? With a lust to take over the world, even? I mean, she’s pretty old.”

  Vic released the cover, exposing the headline about the super-powered lover. Matt’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened into a perfect O of surprise. All silliness dropped away when he asked in a low voice, “You don’t think—”

  “How many other guys out there do you know with superhuman sperm?” Vic held onto the tabloid when Matt tried to take it. He didn’t know if he wanted to rip it up into a million unreadable shreds, or call the number on the masthead and cuss out the reporter who wrote the story. Both actions had their merits.

  “Maybe it’s a joke,” Matt offered. “I mean, look at this rag. No one reads it. None of these other stories are true. Maybe it’s not even about me.”

  Vic opened the tabloid to the article and pointed to Matt’s name halfway down the page. Just in case Matt didn’t see it, Vic read aloud, “‘We met in high school. His name was M. diLorenzo, and his parents were friends with mine.’“ If it were possible, Matt’s mouth gaped wider in disbelief. “He’s incarcerated in Virginia,” Vic said. “He admits to kidnapping you, and that’s why he’s in jail. He tells how he found you—”

  “He just says my last name,” Matt whispered, but there was an undercurrent of fear in his words. Vic felt it in his lover’s thoughts. Fear of discovery. It made his normally strong voice tremble. “Maybe no one will know it’s me.”

  With a derisive snort, Vic muttered, “Because diLorenzo is such a common name. He says you live in Richmond. He says you’re a swim instructor at a local gym. He does everything short of broadcasting your Social Security number in this damn article, Matty. Anyone with an Internet connection and half a brain could find you from this.”

  It finally sunk in. Vic watched Matt’s face crumple like a used tissue, and the hand holding the tabloid released it to seek out Vic’s sure grip instead. As his fingers curled into Vic’s, Matt took a hitching breath, then let it out in a sad sigh. “Fuck. I thought we were through with him.”

  Vic had thought so, too. As he stood there trying to find something encouraging to say, Matt squeezed his hand and looked up at his lover, fear still plainly etched on his face. In a small voice, he whispered, “So now everyone knows.”

  Panic gripped Vic. He spun around, eyes scanning the crowd, sure Matt was right, everyone did know. Who else would try to steal his Matty away now? Who among these people simply waited for a chance to take his powers as their own? Vic would have to be vigilant, on constant guard, if he hoped to protect Matt from…from…

  The rest of the world.

  No one met Vic’s roaming gaze. Shoppers in line stood with their baskets, bored expressions on their bland faces. None of them huddled together, throwing
glances Matt’s way, as if conspiring to snatch him up. Maybe if Vic bought all the copies of the tabloid, no one would be able to read the article. How many copies could the store have on the shelves? How many more in the stock room?

  And how many stores carry this title? He frowned at the cover of the tabloid, still clutched tight in his fist. In how many cities? You can’t buy every single copy of this issue, you just can’t. Concentrate on what you can do and keep Matt safe.

  Oh, like he had when Jordan abducted his lover. It had taken him more than twenty-four hours to locate Matt, a fact for which he’d never forgive himself. For months afterward, Vic had refused to let Matt out of his sight, and even now, he hated to let Matt go anywhere but the gym without an escort. And now the gym’s off-limits, too. If I ever meet up with Jordan again, he’s dead.

  Skirting the shopping cart, Matt pressed against Vic for some measure of comfort. “What are we going to do?”

  Buy all the copies.

  Vic still liked that thought, but another look around assured him that none of the shoppers in the lanes nearby even seemed to notice the stupid publication. Maybe Matty had been right—maybe no one did read this garbage. But the moment Vic went around scooping up all the copies, someone would notice and wonder why he bothered. People would begin grabbing issues for themselves, and he would only draw attention to the one thing he wanted no one else to see.

  Matt’s hand in his tightened. “Vic?”

  Rolling up the tabloid, Vic dropped it into their basket. “Nothing,” he muttered. “Not just yet. You’re probably right, Matty. No one reads this trash.”

  “But my name is in it.” Matt’s eyes had a dazed look, as if this couldn’t be happening to him. “You said it yourself. Anyone in the world could Google me using the information in that article and they’d find me in two seconds. Jordan found me through the paper. You don’t think they have archives online? Type in diLorenzo and Richmond and see how many hits you get. I guarantee they all lead to me.”