Running with Scissors An Action! Series Book 45

By GA Hauser

In episode 45 of the Action! Series, we pick up where the last book left us, hanging by an emotional thread.

With the cat finally out of the bag for the Nation’s Top Model, Mark Antonious Richfield’s indiscretion, his young husband, Stan Charles Richfield, is sent reeling emotionally. In this chapter of the lives of the boys from LA we find the two men struggling to come to terms with Mark’s bad decisions. Stan decides to join LAPD SWAT cop, Joe Scarbino on a Dangereux modeling tour, leaving his new son, Isaac, with Mark.

Meanwhile, Alexander Mark Richfield, Mark’s superstar son, and his husband Lt Billy Sharpe, welcome a new addition to their home. The young puppy, Lady, brings hope to the two men who have struggled with their fidelity in the past.

Reunite with the boys from LA and follow along on this epic saga, spanning ten years.

• Language: English
• Publisher: GA Hauser
• Release date: Jul 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781370031290

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

RUNNING WITH SCISSORS

an Action! Series Book

By

G.A.HAUSER

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2019

RUNNING WITH SCISSORS

Book 45 of the Action! Series

Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2019

ISBN Trade paperback: 978-1072-9375-7-9

© The G.A. Hauser Collection LLC

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental.

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

WARNING

This book contains material that maybe offensive to some: graphic language, homosexual relations, adult situations. Please store your books carefully where they cannot be accessed by underage readers.

First The G.A. Hauser Collection LLC publication:

July 2019

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Chapter 1

Stan Charles Richfield stared at the front lane of the estate through a window in the living room in his mansion in Paradise, California. It was lit only from the porch lights glowing from the columned entry.

His father’s voice echoed in his head, ‘Don’t make any decisions now. Take some time to think.’

Sadly, ‘thinking’, was making him more upset.

Thinking about the group of friends he’d left in West Hollywood, thinking about the life he had before he had met Mark Antonious Richfield, thinking about his routine of driving a limousine and working out at a gym, yoga three times a week, dinners out on Santa Monica Boulevard…

Then, his train of thoughts moved to the present.

Living in a thirteen bedroom palace; one with a stable, horses, basketball and tennis courts, two pools, two dining rooms, fourteen bathrooms, a spa, a cook, a manservant, a chauffeur…

With his association and marriage to Mark Antonious had come fame and fortune. Stan had just wrapped filming on a huge blockbuster war movie, B is for Bravo. Without Mark’s name, Stan never would have been hired. He knew that.

What had he expected?

He and Mark had an affair. A year ago, they had fallen in love. At the time, Mark was married to the former cop turned CEO, Steve Miller. Mark cheated on Steve…so…

Mark cheated on him.

He deserved this, right?

Stan entered the marble foyer. Before he opened the front door, he turned to look back into the living room.

Mark’s deceased father, Milt Richfield’s portrait was there and the gaze Mark’s father was giving Stan made his blood run cold.

That man had supposedly abused Mark; trying to beat the gay out of him and yet, somehow that monster was allowed back inside the home he built while his son now ran the company he created.

Stan opened the front door and walked outside. The air cooled down in the evening, especially where they were, at the base of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in Paradise, California.

After the midday summer heat, the evenings felt marvelous.

Wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and his work-boots, Stan closed the door behind him and stood on the pink quartz driveway, gazing above the high hedges that surrounded the front of the property, to the sky.

The stars were visible in all their glory in the low ambient light.

He walked towards the garages. They had several cars including his. Mark had given him a green Lamborghini Aventador as a gift. On Stan’s wrist was a Patek Philippe watch. Another gift from the supermodel. A wedding gift.

Stan walked past the garages which held Mark’s pearlescent TVR Tuscan, Steve’s Mercedes, and the limousine. Steve’s wife Tadzio had her hatchback parked outside the garages under a carport.

On the far side of the mansion was a service road where several employee cars and pickups parked during the days. Stan walked its length, under the gnarled fruit and nut trees, hands in pockets, head low.

With just the light of the full moon, he made his way to the back of the extensive property; around the tennis courts, the basketball court, and below the outdoor pool. A paved path was lit by solar lights, leading to the pool which was glowing with blue lamps.

It was so pretty it made his eyes tear up with emotion.

He made his way to the paddock. An enormous enclosure for three horses; Mark’s, Mark’s best friend, Jack Larsen’s, and his.

Yes. Mark Antonious had given him a horse.

Not just any horse. Since Stan was a big man at six-four, he rode a Percheron mix.

Stan entered the stable. It was dim with only a nightlight lit near the stairs to a loft.

The horses snorted, sensing him there. He walked to Bull’s stall. Bollward’s Tempest or, ‘Bull,’ his big brown horse. Opening the stall door, Stan stepped into it, and Bull turned towards him, his dark eyes sparkling from the dim light.

Hey. Stan patted his rump and smoothed his hand over Bull’s high, wide, back to his mane. The horse nudged him gently, but didn’t react much. Bull was a big teddy bear. A gentle giant. This sweet animal had withstood the ire from Mark’s Arabian stallion, Piccadilly’s Phantom. Bull had been kicked by that high-strung horse.

As Stan thought about that confrontation, he heard Piccadilly snort and make noise.

Stan ignored it. He brought Bull a carrot, feeding it to him, hanging out with him to calm himself.

‘You have to decide what you want, Stan. And whether what you have is worth losing.’

His dad, Michael Bergman, was a New York State Attorney General. Stan admired him. Knew his dad would give him sound advice.

‘You and Mark have a son now. I suggest you try your best to work this out before you make a rash decision.’

Yes. He and Mark had a son now. Isaac Milton Richfield. ‘Zak’. As Stan petted Bull, listening to him crunch the carrot, he thought about the media and their malicious gossip.

Mark and his superstar son, Alexander Mark Richfield, were the constant fodder for trolls and celebrity rumors.

Mark Antonious was The Nation’s Top Male Model, selected The Most Beautiful Man in the World, and The Sexiest Man Alive, even The Most Eligible Bachelor before Mark had gotten married.

Mark’s son, Alexander, had inherited his dad’s gorgeous looks, his green eyes and thick brown hair.

Alexander starred in movie after movie, as well as working in a nighttime cable TV drama. Alex was the new ‘it’ boy in Hollywood.

The gossip rags stated that Mark had used Stan. Had paid Stan to find him a surrogate. Paid Stan with cash and fame, and Stan had ‘pimped out’ his good friend Becca McKenna.

It wasn’t true.

Becca had offered and she had indeed carried his and Mark’s baby, with Mark’s DNA, and been paid. But, it wasn’t a quid pro quo arrangement for him to get a movie deal.

Stan rested his arms across Bull’s shoulder and his head on his forearms. The big horse was calm, maybe a little sleepy, as his head drooped and he swished his tail.

‘Stan, you knew Mark was a complex man when you married him. Maybe you need to know his motives for his indiscretion before you make a judgment call.’

That was the one thing keeping Stan right here.

Mark’s motives.

He had not ‘fucked around’. No. He had not slept with a cop for the sake of a climax or the thrill.

No.

Mark had tried to impregnate his ex fiancée, Sharon Tice-Hill. According to the top model, he wanted them, him and Mark, to have another son. So, in Mark’s convoluted way, he had fucked Sharon for him.

Still, the lies, the betrayal, it wasn’t easy to conclude this was a black and white decision.

Hello?

Stan opened his eyes and harkened to a voice.

Is someone in here?

He moved to the stall door. Larry McLeary, one of their two grooms was there. It’s me.

Larry spun on the cement flooring towards him. Oh. Hi. He held his chest at the start. Is everything okay?

Stan exited the stall and latched the door. Yes. Just saying hi to Bull.

Okay. Sorry. I just heard noises.

Stan inspected Larry. He was also in his twenties, and obviously living in the loft apartment. They had two stable hands at the moment, Andrew Wilson, and Larry.

Larry gestured to the ladder, and climbed it, back to the tiny loft studio apartment. Goodnight, Stan.

Goodnight. Stan thought about him. Thought about living over a stable, knew how hard it was for a young person to earn a good living here in Butte County.

He left the barn and walked up the paved path lit by solar lamps. Standing near the outdoor pool, Stan surveyed the landscape. Paradise. This was truly Paradise.

‘What am I supposed to do, Dad? Huh? Leave? Try to get custody of Isaac?’

‘I want you to think long and hard before you do anything. Make a list of what you have to gain and what you have to lose.’

While Stan inhaled the clean mountain air and listened to the night birds sing, he knew what he had to lose by leaving here, leaving Mark. What he had to gain by it?

Nothing.

A life of a single parent, battling for custody against a millionaire, living in a one bedroom apartment again, working as a chauffeur…

That’s what he had to look forward to if he left.

Stan sat on the foot of one of the padded lounge chairs by the pool and stared up at the stars.

If he let this act go, how could he trust Mark again? Could he?

Stan reclined on the chaise lounge, his hands behind his head, staring at the constellations in the sky.

~

The Nation’s Top Male Model, Mark Antonious Richfield stood on the second floor balcony. His husband, Stan, a man younger than his son Alex, was wandering the grounds, and now lying on a lounge chair by their outdoor pool.

Mark had watched him since he emerged from the service road and entered the stable.

Their son Zak was sleeping in his crib. Mark’s ex-husband Steve and his wife, Tadzio, were also asleep in their bedroom in the mansion.

Tomorrow Mark was scheduled to return to work at his and Steve’s garment company, Richfield-Miller International, in Sacramento. Mark had resumed ownership of the company which his father had founded.

But, he was anxious about leaving Isaac behind. What if?

What if…Stan took the baby? What if Stan took the baby to New York where his family lived?

Mark leaned his forearms on the rail, able to look down at Stan as he reclined on the lounge chair.

Yes, he had slept with Sharon to get her pregnant. Yes! I did! So? Sue me.

In his mind, that act wasn’t the same as if he had fucked for pleasure. He certainly did not do that!

But, he had indeed lied since February; when Steve’s disgraced police sergeant father had shot himself in the head and they had laid him to rest. From that fateful day of the church mass in Pasadena, when Sharon had seduced Mark, promising him a baby, Mark had lied.

The men around him assumed he had sex with one of the many motorcycle police officers that had attended the funeral.

Assumed he’d played around.

Assumed he sucked a cock.

He had not.

He had been a good husband, avoiding temptation, not sleeping with his many lovers, or indulging in his fetish for men in uniform.

But, his young stud simply didn’t think any indiscretion was acceptable. And, perhaps he was correct.

What was Mark supposed to do? He couldn’t go back to February and ‘pull out.’

And, maybe Sharon wasn’t carrying his son. She was also sleeping with her stockbroker husband, Brent.

Why all the fuss?

Mark exhaled and brushed his long hair out of his eyes.

Why? Because he had become obsessed with Sharon. Obsessed that she may be carrying his DNA, his son. His.

Over ten years ago he had asked that woman to marry him, dreamed of a family of gorgeous children from her. Sharon Tice was a stunner who came from a wealthy, educated family. Her father owned a large financial brokerage firm where she worked as an executive; G&T Corporation.

Mark had redesigned their main office building way back when he had worked as an architect. That was how they had met. The leggy blonde sucked his cock in the elevator right after his presentation.

Of course he fell into her trap. Of course he did!

He was weak. He struggled with the word ‘no’.

Their surrogate, Becca McKenna, was adorable. He had no complaints about her contributing to their son’s DNA. None. But, Sharon? Well…

Sharon Tice resembled his first son Alex’s mother; Iris Lehman.

Nearly three decades ago, Mark had an affair with Iris while Iris worked as a stripper, putting herself through college. Mark had no idea she was pregnant with Alexander. None. Until Alex showed up at his door at eighteen years of age.

Alexander Mark Richfield was stunning. So gorgeous he was one of the biggest film stars in Hollywood right now.

No, looks weren’t everything. Of course not.

But…they were something. They helped get young men jobs. They helped get young men sex. Looks may not be everything, but they were a hell of a lot in today’s narcissistic superficial society.

He knew if he didn’t look the way he did, he never would have become a model. Never. He wouldn’t be surrounded in lovers and friends.

Mark was so sure his sex appeal had gained him everything, he doubted for one minute if he looked any different, not one of the men in his life would have given him a second glance.

Not Jack. Not Steve. And not Stan.

Mark was well aware he got what he needed because of his face. His ‘pretty girl’ face combined with his ‘hot male’ body; he was tall and trim, with a big dick.

Mark stood straight and gazed up at the sky. The stars were glorious at the moment and the noise of crickets, toads, and night owls added a symphony of sound.

Stan stood from the lounge chair and entered the mansion through the kitchen’s back door.

Mark took a moment to breathe, and left the deck, walking towards the nursery. He stood over Isaac’s crib.

The baby was sleeping soundly. He’d had a busy day, including swimming. Little Isaac was already swimming in his little float-ring. His five month old son was gaining skills in leaps and bounds; already standing, already smiling, already babbling.

A shadow cast into the room.

Mark peered over his shoulder.

Stan was there, checking on Isaac too.

A chill of terror over Stan taking the baby away from him washed over Mark. He would not survive.

If Stan took Zak from him, Mark would never recover.

Mark wanted to hold Stan, to ask his forgiveness.

Stan lowered his head and walked away.

Pain filled Mark’s stomach. Ever since he’d had the affair with Sharon in the church, Mark had felt ill.

Because he’d been a model for a decade, he’d developed terrible eating issues, bordering on disorders. Food equaled pain. Food equaled nausea. So? He avoided it.

This chaos, this friction, it played on his gut. It was his Achilles’ heel. His son had bad lungs after a bout of pneumonia. Him? Stomach issues.

The pain was so intense at times, it incapacitated him.

He dreaded going to a doctor and finding something dire. Dreaded it.

Holding his stomach, Mark left the nursery and hunted for his man.

Their bedroom was vacant. Mark descended the stairs and looked for him. He found him.

Stan was once more pouring himself a drink at the wet-bar in the smaller of two formal dining rooms.

It was very late, nearing two in the morning.

My love? Mark whispered, Can we talk?

About? Stan sipped the sherry, licking his top lip.

No? Mark crossed his arms defensively. Already found me guilty without a trial? Hmm? Ready to impose sentencing?

Are you going to argue a case? he asked, Deny you fucked her? Or maybe plead insanity?

Mark drew closer. Oh, pet. You already knew I was insane.

Stan downed the sherry in a gulp, placing the glass on the counter. I’m struggling with why you lied. I get why you fucked her.

Mark closed the gap between them, hoping his sexuality could help get them over this hurdle. He purred and used the tip of his finger to touch Stan’s chest.

No. Stan shook his head and backed up. If you touch me, I can’t think straight.

That’s promising.

Mark ran his hand down his own chest to his crotch. Perhaps we can kiss and make up?

Stan gazed at him.

Let me, Mark whispered, Let me touch you.

~

Shivers rushed up Stan’s spine. This is what got him into trouble in the first place. Mark.

Mark’s sexual potency. He was a sucker for it. He’d been jerking off to Mark’s magazine ads since he was thirteen. Having been madly in love with Mark his whole life, when he found himself giving Mark a ride to the airport that fateful day, Stan thought he had died and gone to heaven.

Pet? Mark drew closer.

The scent coming from the top model was so appetizing, it made Stan’s mouth water. And that British tongue of his…well…

Please. Let me show you how sorry I am. Mark traced the line down Stan’s sternum.

Shivers washed up Stan’s spine and his cock pulsated as it swelled.

It would be so easy, right? Huh? You suck my dick and all is forgiven?

Let me show you what you mean to me. Mark opened the top button of Stan’s jeans.

Stan whimpered in agony. He loved this man so much he was being torn in two by the betrayal.

That’s it. Mark closed the gap between them and smoothed his fingers over Stan’s crotch, tracing where he’d grown hard. That’s it…so nice. Mark used feathery light kisses to tickle Stan’s neck as he massaged Stan’s groin.

More chills raced over Stan as Mark’s seductive skill overwhelmed him.

Mmm. Mark unzipped Stan’s pants and parted the fabric over his low pelvis. Let me taste you. Mark dipped his fingers into Stan’s clothing, making contact with his erection.

Stan wanted to give in. Wanted to forgive him so much.

That’s it…so good. Mark slid his hand inside the front of Stan’s pants and drew his cock upright so he could stroke it.

Then, they both heard a noise.

Stan immediately backed up as the spell was broken. He zipped his pants and jogged up the stairs. Isaac was awake and crying. Stan picked him up and checked his diaper.

While he changed his son, Mark lingered near the nursery room door. Come to bed, love.

Stan tended his son, his emotions were so high at the moment, he wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.

Love? Mark stood behind him, caressing him as he changed Isaac’s diaper. Please.

Stan threw out the diaper and wipes and snapped Zak’s pajamas, then he placed him in the crib and tapped the mobile so soft lullabies played. He entered the bathroom to wash