Drawing the Line: an Action! Series Book 61

By GA Hauser

In episode 61 of the Action! Series we find Actor Jeremy Runner and LAPD CPT cop, Joe Scarbino still together and still hiding from the public as rumors about Jeremy possibly being gay resurface.

Meanwhile, talent agent Adam Lewis is reeling from a tell-all book about his former agency partner Jack Turner’s couch practices. With the current ‘me-too’ hash-tag movement, Adam is losing clients at an alarming rate. His attorney husband, Jack Larsen, is now working with the Nation’s Top Male Model, Mark Antonious Richfield, and his ex-husband, Steven Jay Miller, at their garment manufacturing firm.
The three CEOs commute to Sacramento by chopper daily.

Could there be trouble on the horizon between Tadzio and Steve?

Firefighter Hunter Rasmussen battles with his bruised ego after resigning from the fire service...but, the handsome fireman has options...and gets back on his feet once more.

Come back to the boys from LA for more fun, sex, and drama!

(All Action! books can be read as ‘stand-alone’. This series is written like a television show, so dive right in! Or, watch Capital Games, the pilot of the series now on demand and DVD.)

For a complete list of blurbs and reading order, visit my website at www.authorgahauser.com

• Language: English
• Publisher: GA Hauser
• Release date: Oct 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005664213

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

DRAWING THE LINE

an Action! Series Book

By

G.A.HAUSER

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2020

DRAWING THE LINE

Book 61 of the Action! Series

Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2020

ISBN Trade paperback: 979-8691-1135-6-7

© 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:

October 2020

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Chapter 1

Joe Scarbino parked his car on the curved driveway at the stately home in Beverly Hills. After a long week working with the LAPD’s Community Police Team, Joe was both bored out of his mind and exhausted at the same time. But…at least the weekend had arrived.

He shut his Dodge, Charger down and reached for a small cardboard box he had placed on the passenger’s seat. As he climbed out of his car, he felt the heat of the summer day still clinging on. When he drew closer to the front door to the multimillion dollar abode, it opened.

A flash of excitement washed over Joe as he admired his gorgeous Hollywood movie star boyfriend, Jeremy Runner.

Hey, Jeremy said softly as Joe approached. They kissed sweetly and Joe entered the glamorous old home, once owned by a grand dame of the movies, Greta Gable.

Joe followed Jeremy into the house as he made his way to the man-cave.

Feeling giddy, Joe held out the cardboard box to Jeremy.

What’s this? Jeremy smiled at him, his blue eyes bright.

Joe removed his gun-pouch from his waist, setting it on the side table near a double vibrating recliner. The room was filled with pristine vintage toys, pinball games, and a huge flat screen TV on the wall. I bought you something with the windfall I got from that TV show.

Jeremy held the small box. That’s right. Your house was featured on some ghost hunting show.

It hasn’t aired yet. I think they said it’s going to be a two-hour long special. Joe pointed to the box. Open it.

Did ya eat dinner? Jeremy started pulling open the tape at the seams.

Yeah. I’m good. Joe hopped onto the recliner and dragged Jeremy down with him.

Joe was paid five-thousand bucks from the Transport Channel. They wanted to tape a ghost hunting show at his home. The Van Nuys house had some odd things happening inside it, and Joe was happy he now lived in Malibu.

Jeremy stretched his arm towards a standing lamp and lit it, then continued to try and get inside the damn package.

Joe shifted on the recliner and dug into his pocket, removing a pocketknife.

Jeremy chuckled. My boy scout. He took the knife after Joe extended a blade.

Yeah, that’s me. Joe laughed at the irony. He watched Jeremy open the outer box and remove the inner one carefully.

Joe took his knife back, folded it and pocketed it.

Jeremy inspected the details of the inside box carefully and glanced at Joe. You bought this?

Yes. Online. Joe narrowed his eyes. Why? You collect toys, right?

Jeremy shifted to sit up higher on the seat and very carefully, opened the box. He removed a tin toy, one with a mouse on a steamboat. What the fuck? How much did you pay for it?

Joe tilted his head in confusion. You can’t ask that! he laughed, It’s a gift!

Hang on. Jeremy continued to inspect the toy. This can’t be original. It’s a repop, right?

Huh? Joe had no idea. He just thought it was cute. I don’t know.

Jeremy appeared confused and then, put the toy into the box once more, set it aside and pulled Joe to his mouth for a kiss.

Joe whimpered and slid lower on the recliner as his gorgeous movie star boyfriend made out with him. I knew it was a good idea to get you something. Ha!

Joe moaned and pulled Jeremy closer, digging his fingers down Jeremy’s pants.

~

The Nation’s top Male Model, Mark Antonious Richfield, carried his youngest son, Jacob Bentley Richfield, down the grand mahogany staircase in his mansion in Paradise, California. The little tyke was getting bigger every day eating Sierra’s amazing cooking. At ten-months-old, Jacob was beginning to crawl and standing in his crib.

Jacob’s brother, who was nearly two-years-old, Isaac Milton Richfield, was already walking, speeding around the house like a windup toy.

Luckily Mark wasn’t alone and had help caring for his new sons.

Hearing giggling laughter, Mark paused in the large marble foyer, seeing his second husband, Stan Charles Richfield, chasing Isaac, or ‘Zak’, around the lower floor. Zak had recently figured out how to pedal his tricycle, and used it to ride down the long corridor of the first floor.

Stan was a strapping man, standing six-four with hazel eyes. He was only twenty-seven years old. He paused in his running after Zak and laughed at Mark at the effort it took to watch him.

Hey, Stan chuckled as he spoke, I thought I was in shape!

Mark kissed him. You are in shape.

Daddy Stan! Isaac called from the hall, Where are you?

Stan waggled his eyebrows at Mark and jogged off.

Mark smiled and shook his head, continuing to the nook with Jacob. Your brother is silly, Jacob.

The little one with the big blue eyes and fuzzy blond hair wasn’t saying much yet. Mostly noises and ‘dada.’ He’d had a rough start to his young life. Mark had impregnated his mother, his ex-fiancée, Sharon Tice-Hill, in a church in Pasadena.

In Mark’s humble opinion, that woman was insane.

Mark slid into the nook with his little man and sat him on his lap.

Sierra, their wonderful chef, was busy preparing dinner for them. Would you like a bottle, Jake?

The little man nodded, one finger in his mouth.

Mark kissed his pudgy cheek and said, And then, we’ll eat Sierra’s wonderful dinner. Mark relaxed while he waited and gazed outside. From the nook’s bench seating area, he had a panoramic view of the entire back of his property; the newly remodeled stable, the outdoor paddock, where they housed four horses; the tennis and basketball courts, the outdoor pool, and the meadow and mountains beyond.

Hey.

Mark snapped out of his thoughts to focus his attention on his ex-husband, Steven Jay Miller. Steve lived with them at the thirteen-bedroom estate, and was now Mark’s business partner at Richfield-Miller International, a garment company Mark had inherited when his mother passed away.

He and Steven first met whilst working for an advertising firm, Parsons and Company, and had hooked up when they got lost on a business retreat in New Mexico.

Mark had been engaged to Ms Tice at the time. Oops.

Steve was a handsome man with blue eyes and conservatively cut brown hair. The former LAPD officer had also served in the army, like his dad, Dick Miller, who had died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

It was at Dick’s funeral mass that little Jacob was conceived.

Steve was in his forties, like Mark. What’s the weekend plan? Steve asked.

I assume Chloe is coming to ride Sally. Mark indicated the horses. Chloe was Steve’s twelve-year-old niece.

I’ll check with Laura. I don’t know for sure. Steve rubbed his clean-shaven jaw as he gazed outside. The nights grew longer now that September was looming, but the fire season was still here. At least until they had some rain.

Steve’s young Swedish wife, a transgender-individual, Tadzio Andresen-Miller, slid into the bench beside her husband. She had long blonde hair, light powder-blue eyes, and was twenty-six- years old. Tadzio had first met Mark’s eldest son, Alexander, when the two of them starred in a nighttime cable TV vampire drama, Being Screwed.

Tadzio had changed her stage name recently, to Alexis Ridgeway, as a tribute to Alex, and to get acting parts as a woman.

It had worked.

Alec said he iz coming late tonight. Tadzio touched her wedding set and a pink diamond ring Steve had bought for her while on a trip to Europe.

Tonight? Mark took the bottle from Sierra and gave it to Jake. He held it himself and drank from it.

Happy squeals of joy echoed from the spa area where Stan and Zak were playing.

Yes. He wants to. Tadzio shrugged.

Wait. Steve turned towards her. How are they getting here? Are they using the corporate jet?

I didn’t ask, Steven. Tadzio glanced over her shoulder and then stood up from the bench and opened the refrigerator while Sierra continued to prepare their dinner.

Mark checked on Jacob’s progress with his formula and then gazed at his ex. Steven? he said quietly.

His former cop didn’t appear to be in good humor. Lately, Steve’s moods changed quickly and most of the time they weren’t friendly bouts.

Steve didn’t answer him, but he did say, Tadzio? Can you bring me a beer?

Yes, Steven.

Mark took the empty bottle away from Jacob and set it on the table, then sat the baby up higher. He wasn’t happy his ex was back to booze. But, so far, it seemed to be a beer here or there.

Mark knew if he said something, it would only make Steve angrier.

Tadzio handed Steve his beer. Before she could sit back down with them, Steve slid out of the bench and left the house through the back door.

Both Mark and Tadzio watched him through the huge picture window.

What’s going on? Mark asked her.

Tadzio shrugged. He never talks to me.

Mark left the issues with Steve alone and asked, Does Alex expect dinner?

I will find out. Tadzio held her phone in her hand and sent him a text. He say no.

Okay. Mark gazed at his little one as Jacob stared up at him with his wide, curious blue eyes.

~

With the noise of Isaac and Stan’s playtime echoing in the hallway, talent agent Adam Lewis battled to focus on work. He and his lawyer husband, Jack Larsen, had moved into the mansion from their home in Malibu.

Adam was happy with their move for the most part, but having the two little boys screaming while he worked was rough. The study was on the far end of the mansion, located near the indoor pool/spa, the theater/game room, and the library.

Even though it was late on a Friday afternoon, Adam kept working. After a tell-all book was released, detailing Adam’s deceased, talent agency partner, Jack Turner’s abuse of young male clients, Adam’s agency had lost nearly half of their studs.

That Turner incident had occurred ten years ago, but with the new hash-tag movements, and a nosy reporter named Garth Ross, that dead story had new life, and it was killing his agency.

Even with ads online he was struggling to gain new talent.

His two Los Angeles based employees, Natalie Cushman and Logan Naveah, had left an hour ago, disconnecting the live-video-feed they kept open while they worked. Adam was still at it.

But, he was tired after a long week, and now with Isaac’s noise, Adam was getting a headache.

He heard someone enter the large study, one with a desk the length of one wall with enough space for a dozen computers.

This room had a collection of Mark’s Dangereux Cologne advertising photos, taken from his modeling agent Arnold Newhouse’s office when the man retired.

It showcased Mark’s long career in print.

His husband, Jack Larsen, stood behind Adam, massaging his shoulders. Jack had begun working with Mark and Steve at RMI as their in-house attorney. He and Jack had made the leap from their home in Malibu, to living here.

They rented the house they owned to three LAPD police officers; Homicide Detective Lieutenant Jeff Chandler, Robbery Detective Mickey Stanton, and Joe Scarbino, Community Police cop.

Dinner’s almost ready. Jack used his thumbs to work the muscles in Adam’s neck and shoulders.

Adam lowered his head. Fuck, that feels good.

A loud squeal echoed from the spa where Isaac and Stan were playing.

~

Jack felt Adam wince at the noise. He glanced at the hallway. None of the rooms at this end of the mansion had doors on them, so the sounds carried.

Log off. Let’s have a cocktail. Jack tapped Adam’s shoulder.

Adam moved his mouse around the icons and shut down his work, then rubbed his face and yawned.

Isaac was about to run by their door when he spotted them. Unck Jackie! He raced into the room in his little shorts, T-shirt, and tennis shoes, bright-eyed and giggling.

Jack picked the nearly two-year old boy up, seeing in him both Alex and Mark with his large green eyes and long brown hair. Hey, Zak! Jack bounced him.

Stan leaned on the arched doorway, catching his breath.

Aydum… Isaac reached for him, peddling his legs while high in Jack’s arms.

Why is all the energy wasted on youth? Adam quipped. He stood from the swivel chair and tugged on Isaac’s little foot. Hungry, Zak?

Esss! Zak wiggled to get down.

Jack set him on his feet, and Isaac squealed as he raced down the hallway, Stan in pursuit. Seeawa? Isaac called, Dinner?

Jack laughed at the adorable kid but his husband didn’t look amused. Jack drew Adam into his arms to kiss his cheek and comfort him. Adam was going through hell at the moment with a mass exodus of clients from his stable. The book that had been written about Jack Turner was crushing Adam’s agency.

That was how they had met.

Adam had come to his law office in Los Angeles asking him to represent him after Turner was accused of sexual assault and couch practices with the young men he hired.

Adam had done nothing to his clients, but…he may have been too quiet about it.

How about a glass of wine? Jack led Adam out of the study.

Sure. Adam held onto Jack as they walked the long corridor, peering into empty bedrooms as they went.

~

Former firefighter Blake Hughes inspected his husband Hunter Rasmussen as they waited for dinner. Both men had been Los Angeles firefighters, but Blake had retired at fifty because of a bad back. He and his husband, Hunter, moved here, to the estate in Paradise. Blake was Mark’s nanny, and Hunter had transferred to the Butte County Fire Department, entering as a captain, until…

Until Hunter was taken to the hospital for heatstroke after a miserable forest fire.

Blake had urged him to quit, so Hunter did.

They had discussed Hunter applying for a job with the ambulance corps, but, so far, Hunter had not.

Tadzio called up the stairs to them, Blake? Hunter? Dinner!

Blake called back, Okay! He paused as Hunter put his phone aside and then reached out his hand to haul him off the bed. Hunter clasped his hand and rose up, exhaling deeply and entering their private bathroom.

Blake waited for him, thinking about this weekend and who may be joining them.

At times, Mark entertained thirty guests, but it changed from weekend to weekend.

He didn’t want to put pressure on Hunter to find work, but, he knew Hunter wasn’t happy being unemployed and sitting around all day.

They held hands on their way towards the grand staircase. As they went, Blake peered into bedrooms. On the second level, Mark and Stan had their bedroom, and so did Jack and Adam. The babies’ nursery was here as well.

Blake peered into the boys’ room as he passed. It was pale blue with white furniture, and Tadzio had hand-painted animals on the walls. The nursery was as large as the other bedrooms on this floor, and soon it was going to accommodate a newborn. Mark’s surrogate, Becca McKenna was expecting Stan’s baby this time, since Isaac was a product of her and Mark’s DNA.

No doubt as the boys grew older, each would get their own room.

Blake allowed Hunter to go first, down the mahogany stairs. As Blake did, he admired the marble foyer, its high ceiling and crystal blown-glass light fixture.

Jack and Adam were in the living room sipping cocktails. Hunter continued on to the dining room, and Blake paused at the arched threshold.

The living room was enormous, twenty by forty, with a bay window at the front of the house. A fireplace was lit by gas lighting in the cooler months, and the room had clusters of seating arrangements.

Over the mantle was a portrait of Mark’s father, Milt Richfield. Mark had taken it from the CEO’s office in Sacramento, then it lay in storage for a while, until Mark saved it and hung it here.

The patriarch of the Richfield line had snow white hair and green eyes. But, he was no saint.

Jack smiled at Blake. Dinner?

Dinner. Blake smiled back. He noticed Adam looking