Laid, p.1
Laid, page 1
part #1 of Massive Studio Series
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright
infringement, including infringement without
monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is
punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Laid
Copyright © 2009 A.J. Llewellyn
ISBN: 978-1-55487-383-8
Cover designed by John Bruno
Images of Hinter Marx and Matt Murdock provided by
www.massivestudio.com
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden
without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by eXtasy Books
Look for us online at:
www.extasybooks.com
Laid
Massive Studio Series
Book One
By
A.J. Llewellyn
Dedication
To John Bruno for bringing me the idea in the
first place. Love you, man!
Chapter One
rolled up to the checkpoint, the street side row
o
I f Pavilions market parking lot. It was three
a.m. and most of the clubs along Santa Monica
Boulevard were closed. A few late night revelers
came running out of the market with last-minute
boxes of condoms and six-packs of beer.
A guy in a black SUV across the road was
getting indiscreet head from another man in a
pink baseball cap leaning over him from the
passenger seat. The driver caught me staring and
closed his eyes in an exaggerated display of
ecstasy. Goddamn exhibitionists.
I looked around. I was the first one on site. I
uncapped my coffee, took a sniff, made sure
nothing nasty was floating on the top and sipped
it. I’d had bad luck with sodas and coffees late at
night. Tiny roaches nestled in ice cubes, a fake
fingernail another time. I like my coffee straight-
up. From the corner of my eye, I saw Martinez roll
up. Of the Big Four, he’s the one I’d say is drop
dead handsome. I’d do him in a nanosecond
1
AJ Llewellyn
except he’s straight. And he also has no idea I’m
gay.
Funny how we can be working for a
supposedly gay-friendly cop shop and being
outted is more terrifying for me than getting shot.
At the age of thirty, Martinez was two years
older than me. We were both dark haired, except
he has the mocha skin of a Puerto Rican. He
parked, locked and rapped on the passenger
window of my brand new GT Mustang. I never
even glanced at him. I just popped the lock from
my door panel.
“Nice wheels, Cannon.” He shut the door. I
locked it again.
For a moment, the smell of coffee was all I
cared to think about.
“He’s taking a long time.” Martinez pointed a
finger at Pink Baseball Cap going nuts on the
driver’s cock in the SUV.
“Do you remember the night we busted that
actor with the trannie? Claimed he had no idea
she was a he?”
I thought for a moment. That was a long time
ago, when I was first on the beat, before the secret
training, before the giant leap into the task force.
“Yeah,” I said. “She didn’t even look like a
chick.”
2
Laid
“Guy in the pink baseball cap looks like he
loves what he’s doing.” Martinez’s tone was
wistful.
I glanced at him. “Problems at home?”
He shifted in his seat. “My wife said she loved
giving head before we were married. Now she’s
suddenly developed a gag reflex.”
“You need to take her out to dinner more.”
“That’ll fix her gag reflex problem?”
“It’ll help ease it some.”
He shook out a couple fries from a paper bag. I
grabbed them and chewed. Still hot. My big
weakness. He didn’t gripe when I swiped a few
more.
The show across the road finished and the
cocksucker raised his head, glancing around.
Fuck! It was Sal Pistone. Silly asshole always
claims not to be gay, though I’ve had sex with him
several times.
Pistone and I have met in a few dark places,
away from prying eyes. I’ve never known him to
be this…flagrant, but then it was three o’clock in
the morning. He’d probably been cruising some of
the daddy bear sites, fell in love with the driver’s
cock and just had to show it some respect.
Martinez and I ducked at the same time when
Pistone looked our way. I inched my face up a
little to glimpse him sauntering down the street,
hands jammed in his pockets.
3
AJ Llewellyn
“Hey, I know that guy from somewhere,”
Martinez said.
The driver in the SUV pulled away, fast.
I opened the Krispy Kreme box. “Want a
donut?”
“Shit, Cannon. How do you stay so thin?”
I fuck a lot. “I work out a lot.”
Two seconds later, the other two members of
our reluctant quartet showed up. I shoveled the
donut down my jaw, chasing it with the rest of my
coffee.
They ran to my car and got in as I popped the
locks once again. I traded glances with Hennedy
and Burke in the rear.
“We ready?”
Burke, who at twenty-eight has seen combat
experience in Afghanistan and Iraq, did a couple
tours before coming to work in the anti-gang unit
in South Central LA. He survived international
war zones, but got shot on his first day on the job
back in civilization.
I picked him for the Special Response Team
because I dug the fact he grabbed his assailant’s
weapon and capped him right between the eyes as
he lay dying.
He gave me a thumb’s up and leaned back
against the headrest. I could smell booze on him,
but knew he wasn’t drunk. He was going through
four kinds of hell. His wife and his girlfriend had
4
Laid
just had babies the same day, in the same hospital.
He got busted bad. One of them blasted him on
Twitter, the other posted doctored photos of him
in fishnet stockings on Facebook. He was facing
disciplinary hearings, but for now, he was still an
active member of the SRT.
Every day, he endured jokes about his
stockings, his wigs and whatever else the ladies
cooked up for him. I told him to be thankful they
hadn’t super-glued his cock to his belly like the
poor schmo whose plight had become the latest
news fodder.
“Donut,” Burke yelled. “You got a blueberry
fritter there?”
I handed it over. He looked a lot happier.
“You sure you want that, Burke?” Hennedy
asked him. “I mean…it might put some cellulite
on your thighs.”
“Fuck you, man.”
The rest of us laughed.
“Yeah, we’re gonna have to buy you some
Spanx,” I joked and instantly regretted it.
“How do you know about Spanx?” Martinez
asked. “I’ve seen the girls you date. They don’t
look like they got bulges anyplace…even where a
lady should have bulges.”
I am so gay. “So I like ‘em skinny. But I got sisters.” Boy, I hope Noreen never hears about this.
5
AJ Llewellyn
I drove quickly down Crescent Heights to the
no-man’s land of Los Angeles. Just south of
Olympic, we entered a twilight border between
good neighborhood and bad. Here, you had your
hard-working families struggling to rise above
blue collar to white. They cared about their homes,
their families and they didn’t care much for crime.
Our target was supposed to be in the good
neighborhood, but
spotted an illicit set of sprinklers drenching a
lavish green lawn, in violation of the city’s
Monday and Thursday only code.
Veering left, I appreciated the dark, quiet
streets, but loved the dazzling lights still on
display. My first week in LA ten years ago, there
used to be a chick called Angelyne on billboards
everywhere. She was a tiny platinum blonde with
big tits, cute lips and minimal clothing. She was
probably as old as dirt now, but I wondered if
those big signs ever did anything for her. I kinda
thought there was something cool about her.
Christ, I am so gay.
I parked off Sierra Bonita and cut the lights.
“You think Monroe is sleeping again?”
Hennedy asked. Of all the guys, he was my
favorite. Hennedy gave me more laughs than
anyone because he was a hot-looking Irishman
who refused to marry when he could enjoy flings
with both men and women. I asked him once
6
Laid
which he preferred, because I honestly don’t know
too many true bisexuals.
“I can’t choose,” he said. “It’s apples and
oranges.”
So far, I’d resisted letting him know I was gay.
You never know when a man will turn on you. I
wasn’t worried about Pistone because everyone
thought he was an idiot anyway.
There was a gay cop I’d coveted once. Man…I
still felt chills thinking about how badly things
went. Will Tallman had been my partner. He was
the first cop I seriously pursued.
“Nah, you’re too hot, Cannon,” he’d said. “I
think I could fall in love with you.”
I tried to tell him that wasn’t an option. I never
fall in love. I never play for keeps. We played, we
both got hurt and I was determined never to let
that happen again.
Will had his own special duties now and we
never spoke at all. It hurt. I tamped down those
memories. Opposite us, another unmarked car
flashed its lights. We were on.
“Finally,” Burke groaned. “Remind me to kick
Monroe’s ass.”
All four of us got out and I flipped the trunk
open. We put on Kevlar vests, flak jackets, hats,
checked our weapons and moved across the street.
Out of nowhere, a sleek black van appeared. The
7
AJ Llewellyn
letters SRT were stamped on the sides. Two guys
in back, two up front. We jumped in.
“Well, if it ain’t the pajama brigade,” Pistone
sneered.
Light must have dawned on Martinez because
when he thought nobody was looking, he mimed
Pistone giving head. Our lead tech blanched.
Pistone wore a headset and night vision glasses,
but I could tell his anxiety level just went into the red zone.
“Hey, Speed,” Pistone said, his voice cracking.
Burke kept fiddling with his vest.
“Speed,” Pistone said again.
I nudged Burke. “He’s talking to you.”
“Why’s he calling me Speed?”
“That’s the nickname I gave you,” Pistone said.
“It’s either that, or Legs.”
“Fuck you, man.”
The rest of us laughed. Burke was getting a lot
of that lately.
“Hey, what’s my nickname?” Martinez asked.
“Fence.”
Martinez’s face scrunched up. “Fence?”
“Yeah…border fence…you know…from
Mexico to here.”
“I’m a legal citizen and my family’s from
Colombia, you simpleton.” Martinez was pissed
now. I could tell by the muscle twitching in his
8
Laid
cheek. “What about Cannon, what’s his
nickname?”
“I was thinking Bickus Dickus.”
“Oh, brother,” Hennedy said. “You been
spendin’ too much time in the locker room, pal.
You need yourself a hobby.”
Pistone shrugged. “I decided it’s too long.
Cannon works, don’t you think?”
Hennedy closed his eyes. “Aw…geez. Now I’m
gonna keep picturing Cannon naked.”
Our captain turned around. “All right, ladies,
you know the drill. They’re Korean, but they
speak English, according to our source, so don’t let
‘em tell ya otherwise. This is Cannon’s bust, you
play by his rules. Jack up and stay safe.”
We put on our headsets and the truck took off
fast, taking out a white picket fence and landing in
the front yard of the house on Corinth.
“Whoa, the daisies just got eighty-sixed,”
Pistone chuckled.
Yeah, and the fence, a fancy garden gnome and
a topiary shaped like a cow. Shit, I am gay. I know the fancy name for everything.
I jumped out with Hennedy and we took the
sides of the house. All quiet. No dogs. I love dogs
until I’m on a bust. I counted and said, “Go,” into
my mouthpiece and Martinez and Burke came
running.
9
AJ Llewellyn
We met in the middle at the front door as
SWAT waited in the alley at the back of the house.
I knocked, real polite, and an old Korean woman
opened the door. Her sparse white hair framed
her furious face like a demented halo.
“Ma’am,” I said. “I have a warrant to search
these premises.”
“No,” she said, trying to push me back.
“Ma’am, I have a warrant and I will arrest you
if you touch me again. How many other people
are in this house?”
“Just me. I just a poor lady.” She started to
holler and cry, throwing her hands to the sky.
Poor lady, my ass. I knew roughly what she had in the house. I told her to sit on the sofa. We
switched on lights and she cursed as we began our
methodical search.
“Dēji,” she spat.
“You’re calling me a pig?” On her startled look,
I whispered, “Yes, grandma. I speak Korean. You
be nice, okay?”
She stared at me, her angry little eyes quite a
turn on. Man, she was gonna regret calling me
names.
Hennedy found two children and another
woman in the house. He brought them into the
living room too.
“The fat kid’s supposed to be in the house,”
Pistone said in my ear.
10
Laid
The four occupants of the house sat on the sofa
and I told them to get up.
They ignored me.
“Stand up!” Something in my tone registered
this time and they stood. I yanked the sofa open
and found the kid we’d been looking for.
Shit. They’d been tipped off.
He seemed agonized and panted hard.
“Get him some water,” I told Martinez. Can’t
have been fun being squashed between the folds
of the bed when you’re fifteen and weigh close to
two hundred pounds.
They hadn’t been tipped off fast enough.
“Cannon,” Hennedy said. He inclined his head
and I followed him as Martinez returned with a
glass of nasty looking tap water. Goddamn LA. He
and Burke kept their guns on the five occupants.
In the first bedroom, Hennedy had found a
cache of weapons. They’d expected us, but we’d
come earlier than they thought.
I strolled in, marveling at the contrast between
the shabby chic furnishings and the hardware on
the bed. I counted nine weapons, including seven
AK 47s with multiple-round clips, three .50 caliber
sniper rifles, five semi-automatic rifles, three nine millimeter lugers and two .357 magnums. It was
