by RJ Scott
Fourteen
Josh
I couldn’t talk about the hotel or my career, but the mayor I could handle. When I began to talk, it was falteringly, as I attempted to get my head together. I started and stopped several times, unsure of how to explain the feelings inside me. Through all that, Lucas watched me, his gray gaze compassionate, and finally my thoughts began to make sense.
“When I saw that room, there was a victim, but there is this dispassionate part of me that cataloged the blood, the flow of it, the splatter, the viscous nature of it. I could list the wounds on the body, visualize each photograph at the scene, understand that some of those photos were unmarked by blood on the front where they lay. Then I can even suggest they were placed there.”
“Likely postmortem,” Lucas murmured.
“And I saw the words on the wall and that the doors to the grounds were shut, and there was no obvious signs of break-in. I saw all that. Is that what you do?”
“Yes, and no. I see the rest of it, but in the middle of the chaos, I see the victim, the person whose life has been cut short. It’s only because I see all those other things that I can piece together a story to make someone atone for the death. Does that make sense?”
“You don’t see any of the horror of it?”
“Of course.” He smoothed his thumb over my cheekbone, and I pressed my face into his hand. “And when I wake at two a.m. dreaming of blood and death, I let myself feel the revulsion, and in that, somehow, I can piece together a scene where the death is front and center, but the evidence is all around me.”
“I read somewhere that a cop or someone like that is there to represent the dead. Is that how you look at it?”
He smiled softly. “I guess so.”
Should I have told him that I couldn't compartmentalize what I’d seen in that room? How did I explain that it terrified me and all I wanted to do was grab Harry, lock him in the hotel, and never let him out? Never expose him to the kinds of horrors that were out there. Murder that Lucas might well see on a daily basis.
I didn’t say any of that, because his thumb was still moving, and somehow the angst of the dark hours had shifted to be something more. He was patient, and kind, and his expression was understanding, as if he could see right inside to that place where I was in shock.
“I’m here if you want to talk,” he whispered.
“I don’t need to talk.” I wasn't lying. I needed to think, to process how his touch was making me feel and why it was a bad thing. Or maybe I shouldn’t have been thinking at all. Maybe I should give in to this insane attraction I had for the federal agent who was living under my roof? The same agent, who, if he found out the kinds of things I did in my locked office, would march out of there or arrest me. I was a white hat hacker, but in a lot of situations, I was still breaking the law. That was why so many of my contracts were disavowed; if I got caught, then it was all on me. Of course, that meant I could ask for more money, but I was earning enough, and spending too much time on the dark web could make jail time a reality.
He pressed his thumb to my bottom lip, pulling at it slightly until my lips parted, and I wanted to taste his skin so badly.
I darted my tongue, touching it to his thumb before closing my lips over it and sucking, never once taking my eyes off him. This could go two ways. He could yank his hand away and ask me what the fuck I was doing, or he could get as turned on as I was now. Unless of course he wasn’t into thumb sucking in which case…
“F-fuck,” Lucas stuttered, his pupils growing wide with desire, and in that single word, I knew that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. “This is a mistake,” he murmured, but there was no conviction in his tone. Was he as attracted to me as I was to him, or was he really going to regret any next step?
I released the suction on his thumb, and he pulled back, and god, the disappointment was visceral. Only, he didn’t get up and leave. He pressed his hand to my shoulder and stared at me as if he had a hundred questions and I was able to give him all the answers. There was hope in his expression and need, and he had to know for himself if taking this further was a mistake.
“It doesn’t feel like a mistake to me.” I waited for him to walk away.
“You… do something to me,” he said, and then twin flags of scarlet colored his cheeks. “Shit, that is… I can’t think.”
I touched his thigh, and his breath caught, his eyes widened, and then he carded his free hand into my hair, tugged me toward him, and kissed me as if he meant it. His tongue swept over mine, and he tilted his head, went deeper, closer, and just the taste of him… I could’ve kissed him all night.
We stayed there for the longest time, kissing, his hands in my hair, gripping me, my hands resting on his thighs as I twisted on the chair so I could face him until that wasn’t enough. We stumbled against the table, and then I didn’t know how, but I managed to guide him, without a break in the kissing, so his back was to the wall.
“Oh god, yes,” he groaned.
As I pressed him into the door, his hands slid down my hair to my shoulders, then past each inch of my back to the cheeks of my ass, gripping and pulling me closer until our cocks were rubbing against each other.
I knew I could get off just from kissing and grinding, right there in the kitchen in the middle of my hotel.
He moaned low in his throat, or was that me? I couldn't tell where I ended and he began, my body a mess of sensation and need. His cock was hard and heavy, the pressure against mine so sweet. All I wanted was to be naked against the wall, with him lifting his legs and wrapping them around my waist, even knowing there was no way I was going to be able to hold him up. I wished we were in a bed. Or the sofa. Or even on the floor. I was that desperate for connection.
Somehow between kisses and when I felt like I was going to explode, he found the presence of mind to ease me away, then cradled my face.
“We need to think about this. Please, let’s talk about this.”
“No, we don’t—“
“Josh, listen. I don’t do this. I don’t… you need to think if this is what is right for you.”
I reached for his crotch and wrapped my fingers around his cock. “If you want me to think, then I’ll tell you this. I think we should take this to my room because we are in the middle of the hotel, and even at two a.m., anyone could walk in.”
His eyes widened, and he glanced behind me as if he were seeing the kitchen for the first time. This was the pivotal moment. He either came with me to my room, or he didn’t. The choice was his because I was one hundred percent in this moment.
“I want to, but…”
“No, there are no buts, except my butt and your butt getting our freak on.”
He narrowed his eyes. “That’s not even anatomically possible.”
“Whatever.” I held out my hand. “Come on, Lucas, take a chance.”
He took it but tugged me to a stop. “If we do this, then it’s just us. You and me. No one else needs to know.”
“You want me to be your dirty secret?” I teased, and for a moment, he was startled as if he thought I was being serious.
“No, I mean I need to maintain control. This is my first real… I don’t want to ruin everything if I compromise the…” I leaned close and nibbled a path from his ear to his chin, biting softly on his full lips and then sucking any pain away. “Fuck.”
“Let’s get you out of your buttoned-up suit and live a little.”
“I’m not in my suit.” He frowned, and I loved that he took things so literally.
“I was speaking figuratively and other big words that I forget because I want you in my bed.”
“What am I doing?” he asked himself.
But it wasn’t a question I was going to answer. He was looking for one because he gestured that I should lead the way. The apartment in which Harry and myself lived was on the opposite side of the hotel to the poker room, accessed by a door under the stairs. Inside, we had our own tiny kitchen and two bedrooms. I tugged Luca
s into my bedroom, then closed and locked the door behind us, turning the big brass key, then taking it out and putting it on the dressing table. The AC was on low, the room cool, and lightning brightened the room, followed swiftly by thunder. I’d spent today hoping that the roof could handle the rain. We already had buckets in the attic, but now I wasn’t thinking of drama or danger or things I had no control over.
Right now, all I could think about was Lucas. In my bed.
I turned on the smaller lamp, pulled the drapes, and turned to face Lucas in this soft light as he watched me.
“I want you.” He began to slip off his T-shirt.
That was my job, and I wanted the slow reveal of the warm skin beneath. I traced my fingers from his hips upwards, taking the material with me, slipping it up over his arms and head, revealing from toned muscles and soft skin to cinnamon nipples and a faint smattering of hair that thickened as it trailed down to his groin.
“You're beautiful,” I whispered, aware of Harry sleeping next door, despite the thickness of these old walls.
The warmth in his cheeks was back, and he lowered his gaze. “You don't have to say that.”
Who had hurt this man and made him think that he wasn’t the sexiest man to take to bed? I’d have to ask him, get him to talk, but right now, I needed to get close.
“I do if it’s true.” I captured his lips in a deep kiss before he could talk some more, gripping his ass and pulling him close, but I had too many clothes, on and it seemed he agreed. He didn’t stop until we were both naked, and jeez, naked Lucas was even better than smart-suit Lucas, but it was obvious that he wanted to be naked with me as much as I was with him.
“I need…”
“What do you need? Do you need me inside you? Do you need to be inside me? We could just get each other off, blow jobs, hand jobs. We could just kiss all night. I’m tested. Negative. I have condoms, lube. I won’t regret this.” I counted each item off with my fingers.
He smiled. “I don’t think I’ve been given a menu before.”
“I wanted to give you all the options.”
I traced my finger around his nipple and then pinched it. He inhaled sharply, and the momentary flash of embarrassment was replaced by a fierce desire and the first spoken decision of the night.
“You, inside me.” He was decisive, and I tweaked his nipple again, watching the way his lips parted and he swayed toward me. “And I’m regularly tested. It’s a thing.”
I pulled condoms and lube from the bedside table, laying them there and wincing as I put my full weight on my bad knee. He stilled and touched my face.
“You want to stop?”
“A bad knee will not stop me pounding you into the mattress.” I snorted a laugh.
He pounced on me and pushed me back onto the bed. Gone was any hesitation or embarrassment. He wanted kisses, and I nearly lost it at the press of his body on mine. How’s that for control?
It’d been so long since I’d properly kissed anyone. We didn’t need to rush this. This wasn’t a club hookup. We weren’t in a hotel room with a checkout time; in fact, we had hours ahead of us until Harry woke up. I wanted to take it slow with him, and I rolled us so I was on top, pressing him into the mattress, kissing a path from his eyes to his lips to his throat, then spending time on his nipples, worrying and nipping at them until he was bucking up under me.
We were losing ourselves in the insanity at the moment, and I even forgot my knee ached.
His hands were rough and smooth, loving, gentle, then rough again. We fought for who was in charge, with laughter and sighs and stubborn focus. When he fisted his cock and closed his eyes, I reached for the condoms, in a hurry to get inside him before I lost it. I planned on cold, clinical application, anything to keep this on track and to give myself some breathing space, but he took the lube, squeezing a generous amount onto his fingers, widening his legs, and reaching down to prep himself. I wanted in on that, and together, with slippery fingers and intense focus, we made it right for me to be inside. He pressed a finger in. I pushed as well, crooked the end, and the stretch and burn as I pressed his prostate had him letting out a whimper.
“How many fingers can you take?” I whispered against his heated skin, biting his hip bone and then sucking his cock in a fast, inelegant fashion. Precum beaded the tip, and I licked it away, and then he was shoving at me, then pulling. When he spread his legs and canted his hips, I rolled on a condom and pressed my cock against his hole. He closed his eyes as I pushed inside, pausing for the stretch, letting him get used to it, waiting for his body to let me in. Slowly, I moved deeper into the dark heat of his ass, and inch by glorious inch, I was inside, balls deep, and kissing him through every moment of it.
“Move, Josh, please.”
“You're so beautiful, so fucking hot,” I managed to say between thrusting and kissing, and I thought he might deny that I was right.
“Harder,” he demanded. “I need…”
I lost the capacity to think as sensation took over. I’d wanted him since the first moment I’d seen him, and I was so close to fucking myself into a goddamn coma it was unreal. He gripped my biceps and groaned, arching up into me.
“Get yourself off,” I demanded. “Fuck yourself on my cock.” He took his prick in hand, set up a punishing rhythm, our kisses growing sloppier. Lightning flashed around the gaps at the top of the drapes, the scent of ozone filled the air, thunder rumbled in the room, and my balls drew up.
“I’m coming,” he gasped, and I wasn’t far off. It was noise, motion, sweat, and sex, and so fucking hot.
He broke the kiss, arching his neck, exposing his throat, and I felt the warmth of him coming between us, and on the next push, I came as well. He grabbed me, drawing me down, tilting his hips as my orgasm stole my breath, and then I lost balance, and he caught me, held me close, as lightning cracked and hissed outside the window, and it was perfect.
He was perfect.
Nothing would come of this. It was just two compatible guys meeting in a town full of murder and getting down to it to scratch an itch. I didn’t have to tell him about the hotel or the hacking, because things would be over soon. But for now, I didn’t want tonight to end, and after cleaning up a little, I pulled him close to me, and we lay like that until we fell asleep.
Fifteen
Lucas
I woke the next morning, wrapped in Josh’s arms. His breathing was even, and my watch told me it was early still. I could go down and stare at the board again, get some coffee, but I was relaxed and happy lying here next to Josh. We’d made love again in the night, waking in the dark to a crack of thunder and slipping and sliding as we kissed until I was coming. I wanted him again. Maybe not now; maybe we’d have to wait until tonight.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep.
“Sorry, did I wake you?”
He tugged me even closer and pressed a kiss to my hair. “Don’t leave just yet.”
I kissed the nearest piece of skin I could find, the top of his pec, within sucking range of his tempting nipples, and I inhaled his scent and then snuggled into him, and I couldn’t help myself, because feeling safe and loved up and weirdly relaxed, I went back to sleep.
My cell woke me, vibrating on the nightstand. I checked the screen, Maggie, and next to me, Josh stirred, lifting his head and looking at the clock, which showed the time was just after six.
“Ev’ythin’kay?” he mumbled.
I gestured with my phone and then answered as I pulled on underwear and headed to the window. “Maggie?” I asked.
“He’s asking to talk to you,” she said, sounding tired.
From experience, I knew that Grandpa Toby had been up all night, and even though Maggie was one of two paid companions, I felt guilty that she was being left to deal with this. It wouldn’t be too long before Grandpa had to be moved out of his own home and into an assisted living facility. He was walking farther and getting lost more, his mind taking him on journeys he only half recalled,
and it scared me.
“No worries. Put him on,” I said, and there was the noise of the phone being passed around, and then it was Grandpa’s voice I heard. He wasn’t slurring his words or sounding absent. In fact, he was crisp, focused, and to the point.
“Lucas, did you find her yet?”
God, I wished I had. I wished we had an ID on her being one of the sets of bones.
“We’re close,” I lied. We have nothing.
“Sandoval, you need to talk to him.”
“We have—”
“Did he tell you what he thought?”
“About?”
“The case and the cabin,” Grandpa said with a huff.
“What cabin, Grandpa?” There had been no mention of cabins in Grandpa’s old notes that I recalled, and I should know because I’d read them over and over.
“What cabin?” he repeated and sounded confused.
“You asked me about Sandoval and the case and a cabin.”
“Oh, I don’t recall… my… yes, the garden. I need coffee. We all need coffee. Maggie, let’s have coffee in the garden.”
He hung up, no good-bye, no expanding on his suggestion about a cabin and a case, but it was enough for me to push Sandoval back up the list to re-interview today. I was spending the day with Sawyer, but right now, I was awake, hungry, and had to get going.
Josh had other ideas, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder.
“You okay?”
“My grandpa, he, uhmm, has Alzheimer’s.”
“I’m sorry,” Josh murmured and squeezed me a little in reassurance. “Do you need to go?”
“No, he was having a lucid moment, told me about something and nothing.” I turned in his arms, burying my face in his neck and holding tight, not sure I was ready for last night to end yet.
“I need a shower,” Josh said near my ear. “You wanna?”
