Changing Times an Action! Series Book 22

By GA Hauser

As we catch up with Mark Antonious Richfield and his friends and lovers, it becomes clear that life has changed for everyone in their close circle. Gone are the illusions of a rosy, bright future, and in its place, conflict hits.
Alexander, Mark’s son, has a reunion with an old frenemy, a fabulous costar who manages to create a huge impact on Mark, Alex’s Chief-of-Police husband, Billy Sharpe, as well as Mark’s husband, former LAPD cop, Steve Miller.
Through the turmoil and frustration of life in the fast-lane, comes love. Love so powerful, it conquers all, or at least if not all, it becomes a support system for a fragile world; A world of mistrust, anguish, and loss.
Get ready for another adventure with the wild men of the Action! Series.

Changing Times...
“You once told me you would never share Alexander.”
“I’m not sharing Alex. They’re sharing me.”

There’s an exception to every rule.

• Language: English
• Publisher: GA Hauser
• Release date: Feb 10, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370389865

GA Hauser

About the AuthorAuthor G.A. Hauser is from Fair Lawn, New Jersey, USA. She attended university at The Fashion Institute of Technology in NYC, and has a BA in Fine Art from William Paterson College in Wayne NJ where she graduated Cum Laude. As well as degrees in art, G.A. is a Graduate Gemologist from the Gemological Institute of America (GIA). In 1994 G.A. graduated the Washington State Police academy as a Peace Officer for the Seattle Police Department in Washington where she worked on the patrol division. She was awarded Officer of the Month in February 2000 for her work with recovering stolen vehicles and fingerprint matches to auto-theft and bank robbery suspects. After working for the Seattle Police, G.A. moved to Hertfordshire, England where she began to write full length gay romance novels. Now a full-time writer, G.A. has penned over 200 novels and short stories. Breaking into independent film, G. A. was the executive producer for her first feature film, CAPITAL GAMES which included TV star Shane Keough in its cast. CAPITAL GAMES had its Film Festival Premiere at Philly's Qfest, and its television premiere on OutTV. G.A. is the director and executive producer for her second film NAKED DRAGON, which is an interracial gay police/FBI drama filmed in Los Angeles with the outstanding cinematographer, Pete Borosh. (also the Cinematographer for Capital Games)The cover photographs of G.A.'s novels have been selected from talented and prolific photographers such as Dennis Dean, Dan Skinner, Michael Stokes, Tuta Veloso, Hans Withoos, and CJC Photography, as well as graphic comic artist, Arlen Schumer. Her cover designs have featured actors Chris Salvatore, Jeffery Patrick Olson, Tom Wolfe, and models Brian James Bradley, Bryan Feiss, Jimmy Thomas, Andre Flagger, among many others.Her advertisements have been printed in Attitude Magazine, LA Frontier, and Gay Times.G. A. has won awards from All Romance eBooks for Best Author 2009, Best Novel 2008, Mile High, Best Author 2008, Best Novel 2007, Secrets and Misdemeanors, and Best Author 2007.G.A. was the guest speaker at the SLA conference in San Diego, in 2013, where she discussed women writing gay erotica and has attended numerous writers’ conventions across the country.

Book preview

Chapter 1

That’s it, Mark, beautiful.

As he posed in the front seat of a sports car, Mark Antonious Richfield straddled wide for his photographer, Armand.

Fabulous! You’re on fire! Armand leaned one knee on the passenger’s seat, his camera making electronic clicking noises. Perfect. That’s a wrap.

The door was opened for him, and Mark stepped out of the car, brushing back his shoulder-length brown hair. On his way to change out of ridiculously tight pants, Mark came face to face with the CEO of the car manufacturer, Drew Persley.

The heavy-set older man leered at Mark, then reached between Mark’s legs and grabbed his cock.

In rage, Mark shoved the man away. What the bloody hell are you doing?

I can do anything I want. I’m rich. In fact I’m a Richfield.

Mark looked up at the horrible man through his long hand and gasped, seeing his deceased father.

Mark bolted upright in the dark, clutching his chest.

Mark?

He couldn’t breathe, huffing for air.

Mark?

Do not touch me! Mark shoved the hand away.

~

Hey. You were dreaming. Calm down. Steven Jay Miller, Mark’s husband, knew Mark was a troubled sleeper. He sat up and could feel the sweat on Mark’s skin. Okay, baby. Breathe deeply. You’re hyperventilating.

Mark threw off the covers and turned the light on in the bathroom as he entered.

Steve read the clock. It was three a.m. on a Friday and Mark had a photo shoot coming this weekend. He climbed off the bed and stood at the bathroom doorway while Mark splashed his face.

As Mark settled down from what must have been a lousy nightmare, Steve crossed his arms and leaned on the doorframe.

Mark Antonious. Forty-six years old, and still fabulous.

Selected the ‘World’s Most Beautiful Man’ by a celebrity magazine, Mark’s trademark long brown hair and emerald green eyes, perfect ten body and catwalk strut had made him famous. His dick? Infamous.

With both hands, Mark propped himself up on the sink basin, his skin running with tap water.

Do you recall it? Steve asked.

Sadly. Mark removed the hand towel from a ring and wiped his face.

Steve watched Mark in the mirror’s reflection. They both slept nude.

After he placed the towel back on the ring, Mark opened the medicine cabinet.

Steve said, We have to be up in four hours.

Bollocks. Mark didn’t take another sleeping tablet.

Come to bed. Steve reached for him.

Mark followed, shutting off the light, and climbing back in bed.

He pulled Mark closer, and caressed his chest, feeling where he had waxed. Mark was model-ready, hairless, starving, and youthfully smooth from Botox. Can’t tell me?

Mark reached his hand towards him, touching Steve’s side. I was posing for the racy advert.

Steve inched closer, resting his knee across Mark’s thighs. He inhaled Mark, loving his scent.

Bloody Persley grabbed my crotch.

Steve tensed up. That is the stuff of nightmares.

It became worse. He turned into my father.

It was a dream. Steve pressed his lips against Mark’s neck.

You say that! Mark tensed up. But, it’s all changed now. Oh, yes! Have no doubt! You think it’s just women who will be violated at will? I already get my bum touched on a regular basis.

Mark? Calm down. Steve held onto him.

Mark rolled to his side, his back towards Steve. Steve could hear him muttering, Bloody crotch-grabbing-pricks.

Steve spooned him and before he cupped Mark’s groin, which he usually did while in bed, Steve stopped himself. He kissed Mark’s shoulder and hoped they at least got another hour of sleep.

~

Chief of Police Billy Sharpe flew over the dark roadways, his overhead red and blue lights rotating and his siren wailing. He skidded to a stop near several black and white police cars, hearing shouting and seeing moving shadows.

Billy left his car and drew his weapon, aiming it at the threat. Police! Show me your hands! Billy spotted a gun in the hand of the shadowy figure. Drop your weapon!

Blasts deafened him and he pulled the trigger of his semi-automatic duty weapon. He felt bullets hit his chest and fell to his knees.

Billy gasped and opened his eyes. He grabbed his chest in fear and recalled, all too well, the day he had been shot in the bullet-proof vest.

Billy?

He touched his forehead and battled to remain calm as the dream dissipated.

Are you okay?

~

Twenty-eight-year old Alexander Mark Richfield-Sharpe knew his forty-eight-year old hubby suffered from PTSD from both, the police and the military.

Billy was simply the most powerful man Alex had ever met, and that included his father’s lover and best friend Jack Larsen, the gym-junkie, and Alex’s last co-star in his feature film, Diesel VanDen.

Not only was Billy tall and muscular, he had attitude.

Hey. Alex didn’t want to get punched by him, since Billy didn’t seem to be fully awake yet. Can I get you anything?

Billy snaked his arm under Alex and drew him closer.

Alex snuggled against him, smoothing his hand over Billy’s chest to his abdomen. It’s okay. I’m here.

Thank you, babydoll.

Alex peeked at the clock, saw the time, and cringed. He knew Billy had to work in the morning and he had resumed his role in his nighttime cable drama television show. Even with the holidays behind them, the pressure never let up.

Do you want to come? Alex cupped his palm over Billy’s soft cock.

No. Billy shifted on the pillow.

I love you.

Billy kissed his hair and settled down.

Alex exhaled loudly and rested his cheek on Billy’s chest, listening to the beat of his heart. As his fears deepened, Alex didn’t know what the future would bring. After starring in several blockbuster feature films, portraying a gay lover for the Hollywood elite, Alex had been typecast. His agent, and close friend, Adam Lewis, had been able to get Alex auditions with top directors and producers. Alex had hopes that his film career would continue. But at the moment, he didn’t even know if his TV show would be renewed.

Alex tried not to stress about the future, but it wasn’t easy.

~

LAPD Detective Jeff Chandler heard his work cell-phone ring. He woke out of a deep sleep and checked the time. It was nearing four in the morning. He picked up the phone and answered, Detective Chandler.

Beside him, his police husband, Mickey Stanton, began to stir.

Detective? We need you on a scene.

Okay. The phone still to his ear, Jeff nudged the blanket off and placed his feet on the floor, then turned on the table lamp. He heard Mickey groan at the brightness.

Chandler?

Yeah. Jeff rubbed his face.

It’s one of ours.

"Awfuck no. Jeff cringed. I’ll be right there. Send me the details."

Copy.

Jeff looked at his phone for the address.

Mickey asked, What’s the deal?

An LAPD cop is dead. Jeff headed to wash up in the bathroom.

Fuck.

He stared at his face in the mirror, seeing how exhausted he was. Jeff and his lover/police partner, Mickey had both been promoted to detective, getting them off the front lines. He looked into the reflection to see his hunky blue-eyed blond lover entering the room.

Jeff splashed his face and brushed his teeth.

I’m coming with you. Mickey finished up at the toilet, flushing it.

You’re in robbery, not homicide. Jeff relieved himself as Mickey took his turn at the sink.

It’s one of our own. I’m going.

Okay. Jeff wasn’t about to argue.

Wearing a suit jacket and dark slacks, Jeff had his gun in a shoulder holster and his badge and ID on his belt. He drove down a street overwhelmed with police cars and fire trucks. Large crowds of spectators had gathered, holding up their phones as if this was a circus act for amusement.

Mickey touched Jeff’s leg for reassurance and they climbed out of Jeff’s car. He was joined by a lieutenant of their homicide department, who had arrived at the same time.

Jeff greeted him solemnly, Lt Williams.

Chandler.

Jeff spotted the lieutenant take notice of Mickey. Stanton?

I’m here for moral support and a helping hand.

I was wondering why they would have called out robbery.

While he and Mickey worked on patrol, they were partnered up, in uniform, in the same marked car. Because they didn’t want to be separated, they kept their marriage, and love, a secret. Since their promotions, Jeff had started to wear his wedding band.

Neither he nor Mickey were out to their fellow officers.

A single patrol car was surrounded by crime scene tape and the media and civilians were blocked from the view by a screen.

Jeff was directed to the driver’s side of the car. A police officer was shot in the head, slumped over to the side. The windshield was spattered with… his brains.

In reflex, Jeff covered his mouth.

Fuck. Mickey reacted the same way.

Lt Williams did as well. Goddamn it.

A teary-eyed patrol officer approached. He was ambushed.

After gaining control, Jeff resumed his job, which was, investigating the cold-blooded murder of a peace officer.

Jeff said, Someone take his dash-cam and see if anyone else has surveillance video.

I got it. One of the sergeants acknowledged him.

Lt Williams took charge of the scene, since he was the highest ranking officer from the homicide unit, there.

Jeff asked him, Has anyone notified the family?

Lt Williams looked grim. Why don’t you do it?

Jeff nodded, and called their dispatch, to locate the information from the LAPD personnel department.

~

Mickey knew it was going to be miserable. That was why he came. Even though he was working with the robbery unit, he couldn’t let Jeff deal with this alone. And, he knew how to investigate, so, he helped. I’ll see if I can find any witnesses.

Thanks. Lt Williams resumed his grim task.

~

In his bed in his Malibu beach-house, Jack Larsen opened his eyes. The digital clock read ‘4:25’. Jack rolled over, trying to catch a few more hours of shut-eye. He could see his husband, Adam Lewis, asleep beside him.

Jack was a prominent named partner for a large LA legal firm. His work spanned everything from divorce to contracts to violations of civil rights. Now, more than ever, his case load had heightened as hate took hold of a divided nation.

Along with his paying clients, Jack did pro bono work. He had been an advocate for the LGBT community for decades. His firm had been so overwhelmed with cases, he was conferring with his partner Sonja Knight on hiring new attorneys.

As Jack’s brain kicked into gear, he knew sleep would not come. He climbed out of bed to pee, trying not wake up his lover. But, Adam wasn’t a heavy sleeper.

Sorry. Jack noticed his eyes open.

Adam leaned up to see the time, and groaned.

Jack stood at the toilet and reached to turn on the light switch. He narrowed his eyes at the brightness and relieved himself.

Adam scuffed to the doorway, yawning, and scratching the dark beard growth on his jaw.

Jack finished and let Adam take his turn as he washed his hands and stared at his reflection. His blond hair was sticking up from his sleep and his eyes were red from his exhaustion.

Adam rinsed his hands and headed back to bed.

Jack shut the light and joined Adam, snuggling with him.

Thank fuck it’s Friday. Adam tugged the blankets up higher.

Jack wasn’t the only one working his ass off. The LA talent agent he married worked twelve hour days to get his stable of actors work. With Alexander and two close friends of theirs, Carl Bronson and his husband, Keith O’Leary breaking into feature films, Adam was busier than ever.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep, and considered getting a workout in, since he had a home gym. But, he simply didn’t want to. He snaked his arm around Adam and drew him closer.

Adam nestled against Jack, running his fingers over Jack’s chest. Are we seeing Mark this weekend? Adam asked.

He’s modeling. I think we’re having dinner there tomorrow night.

Do you mean tonight? Or Saturday?

Tonight. Jack was corrected since it was indeed already Friday.

Are Alex and Billy joining us?

I don’t know.

Adam’s fingertips traced down Jack’s abdomen to his groin.

Jack kissed Adam’s hair affectionately and bent his outer knee for easy access.

After a hum of contentment, Adam pulled on Jack’s cock and then reached between his legs, massaging his balls and the root of his dick.

Since a climax may help him get back to sleep, Jack tried to shut out the voices in his head. Adam managed to give Jack an erection. When he did, he snuck under the blanket.

Jack’s dick was engulfed into a hot mouth. Adam Lewis… Jack bent both knees and straddled. Have I told you I loved you lately? He heard Adam chuckle, with his mouth full.

Jack closed his eyes and focused on his husband. I’m a lucky man. He floated on delicious pleasure, and let his handsome hubby give him a much needed climax.

Chapter 2

Wearing a designer business suit and tie, Mark stood in the kitchen in his and Steve’s home in Bel Air, sipping his coffee.

He and the former LAPD cop worked together for an advertising firm, Parsons and Company. It was where they had first met.

Jesus Christ.

Mark perked up to Steve’s exclamation. He entered the den where Steve was drinking his coffee while watching the morning news.

I do wish you’d avoid the media. Mark was about to return to the kitchen when Steve said, An LAPD cop was murdered.

Mark winced. If you say Mickey or Jeff, I shall scream.

No. But they were on the scene.

Though Mark’s heart was broken by the news, he stood with his husband and forced himself to watch.

While the anchorman reported the horrific crime, an inset photo of a very young officer in uniform appeared on the screen.

‘…the victim was a twenty-six-year old man, leaving behind two young children. He was a five year veteran of the Los Angeles Police Department. Homicide detectives are asking anyone with information to call the tip hotline. All calls will be kept confidential.’

He’s younger than Alex. Steve shook his head.

In a video which was obviously filmed in the darkness of last night, Mark could see Jeff and Mickey conferring behind yellow police tape while standing next to a marked patrol car. Mark asked, Mickey was there? Isn’t he in the robbery unit?

Jeff probably got the call late last night. Mickey obviously went along to help.

Mark became concerned. Steven. Those boys aren’t out to the police.

Steve aimed the remote at the screen and shut off the set, returning to the kitchen without commenting.

Mark found his cell-phone and placed his mug on the counter where Steve was filling a bowl with cereal. Mark sent Jeff Chandler a text. ‘How are you, lovely?’

It took a few seconds but Jeff texted back, ‘I suck. Did you see the news?’

‘Yes.’

Steve leaned against Mark’s shoulder, reading his phone while he ate his cereal.

‘I don’t know how much more I can take.’

Mark made a sound of upset. ‘I am here. Please. You and Mickey come here for dinner tonight if you’d like.’

Steve said, Jack and Adam are coming.

Mark received a little heart emoji and then the communication stopped. He put his phone into his suit jacket pocket and filled a travel mug with coffee. Jackie and Adam enjoy Jeff and Mickey.

True. Steve drank the milk from the bowl and then set it into the dishwasher. Are you eating?

No. Mark placed his empty cup in the dishwasher as well, and capped his travel mug.

Let’s go before the traffic gets worse. Steve looked at his phone and then slipped his shoes on near the door to the garage.

Who’s driving? Mark asked.

I can. Steve took keys off a hook on the wall.

As Steve waited, standing by the open door, Mark looked back into the room.

What’s wrong? Steve asked.

I feel as if I’m forgetting something. Mark held his travel mug, and touched his phone, and his wallet.

You are. Steve swung him into his arms and kissed him.

Mark held up the mug and closed his eyes.

Damn you smell good. Steve ran his hand to Mark’s low back. Is it okay if I touch you?

Yes! Mark moved Steve’s hand to his bottom. Silly tart.

Steve went for Mark’s ass with both hands and chewed on Mark’s neck.

Steven. Mark smiled. I’m getting excited.

A low whimper came from Steve and he massaged Mark’s ass and ground his hard cock against his. After that dream, I didn’t know if I should make love to you this morning.

That’s absurd. You are not a perve!

Says you. Steve cupped Mark’s jaw and kissed him more passionately.

Mmm. Mark felt Steve rubbing their erections together. We shall be incredibly late. Mark kept holding up his coffee mug as his husband went a little crazy.

Suck me on the way. Steve nibbled his earlobe, sending chills over Mark.

Naughty.

Please?

I can’t say no to you.

Yes! Steve pumped his arm and headed to his Mercedes. He removed his suit jacket, placing it in the back seat.

Mark tapped the garage-door-opener button and sunlight poured in. He walked behind his Tuscan, TVR sports car to the passenger’s seat of the Mercedes. Steve sat behind the wheel, starting the engine while Mark placed his cup in a holder and fastened his safety belt.

Now? Steve touched his zipper flap.

Mark stared into Steve’s blue eyes. Now?

No?

Mark watched as Steve opened the slacks of his suit trousers. I’ve spoiled you rotten. Mark pulled the seatbelt loose and scooted closer.

Yes, you have. Steve exposed his erection before he backed out of their garage.

Tucking his tie aside, Mark lowered to Steve’s lap and enveloped his cock.

Oh, yeah.

Mark drew to the tip and was about to sit up. You’re not moving. We really need to get going.

Steve pushed Mark’s head back to his lap.

Incorrigible. Mark held the base of Steve’s dick and resumed, knowing, yes, they were going to be late.

~

Steve closed his eyes and relaxed. Yeah, they may be late. So what? He and Mark were the top earners at Parsons and Company, and… it was Friday.

He dug his fingers into Mark’s silky mane of hair and slipped lower in the leather seat. Richfield… that mouth of yours.

Mark increased the speed and suction, trying to get at Steve’s ass.

Steve rested his head on the seat behind him and went into a fantasy; he and Billy Sharpe, fucking Mark. The climax hit, and Steve grabbed Mark by his hair and held him tight. "Awwfuckyeah."

Once he released his grip, Mark sat up staring at him. Good Lord!

At least you have something other than coffee in you. Steve dried his dick and tucked it into his pants.

You are a vulgar man. Mark flipped the visor down and checked his face in the mirror. Oh. Mark turned in the seat to look behind them. The chief is here.

Steve looked into the rearview mirror and spotted Billy’s Corvette parked across their driveway verge. I need to see how he’s doing. He backed out, shut the garage door, set the emergency brake, and exited the car.

~

In uniform, on his drive to the Santa Monica police station, Billy noticed Steve sitting in the car in the open garage. He and Alex lived down the street, often running into Mark and Steve as they came and went. At first Billy assumed Steve was waiting for Mark in the car, then, Mark popped up.

You lucky fuck. Billy put his car in park and rolled his window down as he watched Steve buckle his leather trouser belt, tucking in his dress shirt.

Hullo, my pet. Mark crouched down by the open window.

Hello, gorgeous. Billy looked up at Steve as he stood behind Mark. In the garage? Weren’t you two just in bed?

Steve opened his mouth, gestured to the house, and then said, Never mind.

How are you, Billy, after the horrid news last night? Mark held onto the open window frame for balance.

It sucks. I saw Jeff and Mickey on the news this morning. I have no idea why Mickey showed up.

Steve leaned down to speak to him. My guess is they were in bed together when Jeff got the call from homicide. Mickey probably just went along to help.

Stupid fucks. Billy stared at a car driving by. The occupant was gawking at them. Since Mark and Alex were celebrities, getting photographed and videotaped was common. So far, their homes had been respected and they weren’t hounded here.

I do hope they realize what they have done. Mark ran his hand back through his hair, and then looked at his hand, as if he may have Steve’s spunk on it.

Fucking Richfield. Billy smiled.

Steve appeared confused, then obviously got it. Didn’t you swallow all of it?

Oy! Behave! Mark addressed Billy, He’s like a horny teenager.

Boohoo. Fuck you. Billy scanning their surroundings, making sure no one was taking photos of them. What are you guys doing tonight?

Adam and Jack are coming for dinner, Steve said.

You are welcome. Mark stood, resting his hand on the car’s roof.

I’ll let you know. I don’t think Alex is working late.

Speaking of late. Steve tapped his wristwatch.

Yes. We need to go. Mark smiled at Billy. You look smart in your uniform.

Be careful or I’ll have you suck my dick too.

Mark leaned in and gave Billy a kiss.

You smell like Steve! He laughed, since it was funny. He could hear Steve cracking up as he returned to his car.

Mark lingered near him, and the gaze of those catlike green eyes made Billy horny. Yes?

Do be careful.

Always. Love you.

And you. Mark backed up and stood tall, looking like a runway model in his designer clothing.

Billy waved and drove off with the