Digging Deep

by Jay Hogan

  He pushed off the car and was all up in my business before you could say needy whine, not that any sound like that would ever come from me… or anything. I tilted my head back to meet his lips but instead found myself swung around and pressed back against the car. Even better. He crowded in close and caged me in with his arms. Now we were talking. He leaned in, his lips hovering a butterfly’s wing away from mine. I reached forward to snag those suckers, but he kept just out of reach, his eyes smiling.

  “And here I thought I was a commitment-phobe,” he chuckled. “You absolutely sure you want this?” His tongue flicked across my lips and a shiver ran through me. He grinned and repeated the action, still keeping just out of reach.

  My hand snaked between us, grabbed his package, and gave it a firm squeeze. “You absolutely sure you want these?” I fired back, nuzzling my nose against his. “Cos if you don’t get those lips on me right fucking now, I intend to disable these on a semipermanent basis.”

  His eyes sprang wide and his mouth covered mine lickety-split and… hell yeah, achievement unlocked. He tasted as damn delicious as I remembered, his tongue licking and rolling through my mouth like he owned it, and he so fucking did. I had the embarrassing urge to crawl up his body and wrap my legs around his waist, but I held off because… public driveway. Still, I rocked into his hips and… damn if he wasn’t right there to meet me, all firm and upstanding and full of promise.

  He groaned and brushed us together, fuelling the delicious warmth building in my groin. I reached an arm around his neck and pulled him closer, wanting him stretched out against the entire length of me. He got the hint and stepped in, sandwiching me against the car and… like we were standing on a fucking stage, light suddenly tore across the drive to spotlight us.

  “Drake, is that you?” My seventy-year-old darling of a neighbour.

  “For fuck’s sake,” I grumbled softly into Caleb’s neck. “What does a guy have to do to get a decent bit of lip action around this place?”

  He snorted and buried his face into my shoulder.

  I lifted my head and raised my voice. “Yes, Chloe. It’s me. Just seeing a friend off.”

  “Oh, good. Well good night, Drake.”

  “Night, Chloe.”

  I mushed my face up against Caleb’s chest with a groan. “Any chance we can just pretend that didn’t happen and pick up where we left off?”

  He chuckled and kissed the top of my head. “Nice idea, but I should really be going. I’m on early shift tomorrow.”

  “Ugh. Dammit.” I leaned back and toyed with the collar of his shirt. “I am sorry, you know. And I do want to try this, us. It’s just….”

  “What?”

  Damn. Big breath, kiddo. “It’s just that I don’t really do the friends-with-benefits thing. Some of that is because of my health. I have to be really careful, you know… but… well… I just don’t….”

  He frowned and took my face in his hands, pressing the sweetest of kisses to my lips. “I understand, and I don’t recall mentioning anything about friends with benefits,” he said with solemn eyes. “I’ve had years of fucking around and that’s not what I’m looking for with you. I was thinking more along the lines of dating on an exclusive basis and seeing where things go.”

  I stared up at him with all sorts of flippy things going on in my chest. “You know, for a guy who normally doesn’t do dating or romance and shit, you’re pretty damn good at this.”

  He grinned and kissed my nose. “I am, right?”

  I pushed him off. “Oh. My. God. I’ve created a monster. You better go before you can’t get that monster head of yours inside the car. Which reminds me. A Mustang?” I stood back and admired the gorgeous ride. I wasn’t a car guy by any means, but I knew sexy when I saw it.

  He shrugged. “My uncle restores cars. It’s a 1970. I helped him do most of the work on it as a teenager and then his arthritis got too bad to tinker anymore so he gave it to me for my twentieth on the condition I never sell it.”

  I ran my hand over the silky midnight blue paintwork. “Wow, some gift. Um, sorry about the bonnet tap… thingy.”

  He grinned. “You get a free pass on that, once. Though I must admit it got me thinking what else we could use the bonnet for.” He struck it lightly with his knuckles. “Pretty sturdy.”

  And, hello, didn’t my dick like the idea of that. “Put it on your Christmas list,” I answered saucily, making a point of adjusting myself in full view. “But I’m telling you right now, it better be able to handle more than that bunny tap.”

  He stared at me for a moment, then reached up and ran his thumb over my bottom lip. “I really should be going,” he said.

  I sucked his thumb into my mouth, then let it go, and he groaned. “You should.”

  With a final lingering look, he popped the door and slid behind the wheel. “I’ll likely be a bit out of touch the next few days, there’s a case getting busy, but I’ll call when I can, okay?”

  I nodded. “Be careful and stay safe, detective.”

  He looked at me funny.

  “What?”

  “I’m not used to having a guy worry about me.”

  I grinned and kissed his cheek. “Well, you better get used to it. If we’re gonna do this shit, we’re gonna fucking do it right.”

  He snorted. “Of course we are.”

  “Oath. Now get going before I pin your arse to this car’s bonnet like you offered and nail you in front of my elderly neighbour.”

  He laughed and threw the car into gear. “What makes you think it was my arse being nailed, hotshot?”

  “Don’t tempt me,” I answered, closing his door and watching as his tail lights disappeared down the road. Somewhere in there my breathing finally toned down a notch from panicked.

  Son of a bitch. So, that happened.

  I’d apparently gone and got myself a damn boyfriend… maybe… we didn’t exactly peg the term but yeah… pretty sure that covered it. Well, shit.

  Chapter Nine

  Caleb

  “OH. MY. God,” Leanne groaned. “Wind down the window, you total arsehole.” She whacked me on the arm. “Are you freaking dead inside? Holy crap that’s disgusting. Stakeout 101 etiquette, no fucking farting in the car, especially while your partner’s eating.”

  I laughed and dropped the window of the 2002 Toyota that had done more miles than was healthy, but whose scratched-up paintwork and network of dings blended into the pressed-for-cash suburb like a charm.

  “That’s only in the female translation of the manual,” I assured her. “The male version says no such thing. It has a player ranking and an end-of-year prize for the highest achiever.”

  She snorted and coleslaw dropped from her sandwich down the front of her shirt. “Jesus Christ, now look what you’ve made me do. I swear to God, Caleb….”

  “Hey, there he is.” I reached for the binoculars.

  She grabbed her radio to alert the others while stuffing the remains of her sandwich back in the bag. “Jacks just parked out front, everyone. Eyes on the prize, kids, this is it.”

  “Fucking A,” I said. “Four fucking days we’ve been sitting here. Finally.”

  She threw her jacket in the back seat, then whacked me again on the arm. “Don’t jinx it. We’ve gotta nab him first.”

  Keeping her eyes on the nattily dressed piece of meth-peddling trash currently stepping out of his brand-new Range Rover, Leanne didn’t even attempt to hide her total disgust. I swear she actually growled. Having lost her own sister to the drug two years before, she had zero fucks left to give about any of these arseholes. For that reason alone, I’d handed her the lead role today; she damn well deserved it.

  “Come on, fucker,” she whispered, as we both watched the man lean against his car and take a minute to check out the street as if he hadn’t a care in the world. But we knew better. This particular twenty-two-year-old drug manufacturing entrepreneur was no fool, running a tight-knit gang and managing to evade arrest for over a year. He
virtually never fronted to his five or so properties in person, never partook of his merchandise, and stayed clean as a whistle outside this one lucrative business venture.

  It had taken three weeks to set up the sting, getting enough dirt on one of his lower-level lieutenants and talented meth cook, in order to force the guy to turn informant. The man then fabricated a problem that needed Jacks’ direct attention, and here we were, sitting in a beat-up Toyota at seven in the morning, five driveways down from your average suburban meth lab.

  “Keep going, fucker,” Leanne egged the guy along as he sauntered up the path past the neatly mown lawn and toward the front door. “We need you in that little drug factory of yours, up close and personal with your cook….”

  The man pulled out a set of keys, and with one last look around the street, he opened the front door of the nondescript but well-maintained little bungalow and disappeared.

  “Bingo.” Leanne pulled up her radio. “He’s inside. Take your places, everyone.”

  We had a skilled Armed Offenders Squad officer stashed in the back of the house and a couple more on the perimeter, worth their weight in gold since most of us had never needed to fire a weapon. Our inside man was close to the lab itself, and the whole house was video and audio wired to the max. We had to prove the jerk was more than a casual visitor. We needed him giving orders and staking ownership of the operation.

  With the douche safely inside, we flew out of the Corolla and legged it down the road to the property. The police dog team we had planted in a beaten-up Holden station wagon farther up the street edged into place, crouching under the front windows. I knew another was out back doing the same. With everyone in position, we waited. The team inside were tasked with alerting us once they had what we needed on tape. Only then would we move in for the arrest.

  Five minutes later the go-ahead came through and it was all on. The plan was to hit the front and back doors at the same time and flood the house with police, leaving the guy no escape route. Unfortunately that plan didn’t allow for the bit where we broke down the front door and came face-to-face with a sleeping toddler in the front room. Fuck. The possibility of a child being on the premises had never been alluded to in any of the info we’d been given. Someone’s head was gonna roll.

  “Shit,” Leanne swore. “Owen, get in here now,” she shouted into the radio. “Front room on the right, sleeping kid. Get them out.” She spun a worried glance my way.

  “You go ahead.” I motioned down the hall. “I’ll wait here till Owen arrives.” I glanced at the kid, who’d woken and was busy staring at me with eyes the size of saucers. Sooner rather than later, I prayed.

  Leanne hesitated only a moment, then took off as shouting from the rear of the house escalated into what sounded like a full-on riot. Running feet came to a skidding halt ahead as Jacks lurched into view within a few feet of Leanne. He flew to the right, closely followed by an armed officer, and Leanne chased up the rear. At least she wasn’t alone.

  Thankfully Owen chose then to appear and remove the now-sobbing kid, leaving me to hold the fort by the front door in case Jacks doubled back. Seconds later Leanne gave the all-clear, meaning they had the guy locked down, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I fucking hated when we got separated like that.

  When I arrived in the kitchen, Jacks was kneeling, handcuffed, chin on his chest, his tense body dripping with attitude. The cook knelt cuffed alongside, eyes circling the room like a terrified rabbit. Three more of our team arrived and crowded the hallway behind.

  “Who’s the kid in the front room?” I fired my question at the two men.

  “Fuck off,” Jacks answered. “I want my lawyer.”

  The cook’s gaze zeroed in on mine. “My sister’s. I didn’t know she was coming. I put her in the front, thought she’d be okay.”

  Jacks head shot up. “Shut up, you moron.”

  With a questioning look, I side-eyed the armed officer who’d been inside the house.

  “I had no idea,” he pleaded. “I never got past the laundry.”

  I shook my head. “Jesus, we were damn lucky.” I brushed past Jacks, catching his shoulder and sending him sideways to the floor. “Oops, sorry.”

  He kicked out, catching my shin with a lucky shot.

  The armed officer shoved him face first on the floor with a swift shoe to his shoulder. “Stay.”

  Jacks gaze rolled up to the man’s gun and he did as he was told while still managing to send me a shit-eating grin.

  “Enjoy that, did you?” I kicked at his shoe. “I hope you’re looking forward to your stay with us.”

  A sliver of fear flickered in that schooled expression.

  Damn right. Unaffiliated with a gang, Jacks would be a lone wolf amongst the patched-up prisoners in remand, and for sure someone would have an eye on his lucrative little business.

  Leanne stepped forward. “Right, folks, let’s bag, tag, and transport.”

  I caught her eye and winked. “Good job, detective.”

  She grinned and gave me a high five. “You too, detective.”

  On the way back to the station I fired off a text to Drake. Got our guy. You free tonight?

  We’d been exchanging texts all week since the almost-disastrous dinner at his place. I’d tried to keep it light and not scare him off but still show I was willing to put in the time. I wasn’t convinced he was all in yet and didn’t want to risk getting things wrong. Who knew being a boyfriend was so fucking complicated?

  We talked about work, whinged about family stuff, and engaged in a bit of mutual flirting. Then yesterday we managed to meet up for lunch on the fly. I’d been out doing a drive-by for our sting and he’d been visiting clients, so we met down at a Riverside Drive park and chatted over a shared lunch. Add in a bit of making out in his car, and it had been… nice, really nice and a first for me. Not a bar, club, or naked man in sight. Go figure.

  My phone buzzed with his reply. Not sure I should answer that. Might incriminate myself.

  Hah. A grin split my face from ear to ear. Then I’d have to arrest you… again.

  Drake: More handcuffs? Let me think…

  And didn’t my dick just like that idea. Fucking tease.

  Drake: Make it mine at 6 and bring your A game, detective.

  Sounded promising. Don’t have any other.

  Drake: We’ll see about that.

  Well, alrighty, then.

  FIVE MINUTES past six and the door flew open before I even got a second knock in. But when I went to step inside, Drake stopped me with a hand to my chest.

  “We’re late,” he said, pushing his coat into my hands and joining me on the stoop. Then he snipped the lock on the door before pulling it shut behind him.

  “Um… nice to see you?” I said, somewhat bemused. Not exactly the greeting I’d had in mind. That particular one had less rush and a great deal more lip action involved.

  He lifted his chin, turned his head, and tapped his cheek with his fingertip. I obliged with a peck on said cheek.

  “Nice to see you too,” he said, taking a second to stand back and rake his eyes over me. “You’ll do.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the car.

  “Glad to hear it,” I deadpanned. “Are we going somewhere, babe?” Babe? I groaned, realising I’d somehow turned into someone who called another guy babe. Fuck. My. Life.

  Drake threw me an amused grin. “Yeah we are… babe. Now get in and I’ll explain on the way.”

  I knew enough about Drake to know you didn’t argue when he switched into cute–and-bossy mode. He instructed me to head into town, so I did, while he described the client who’d given him her tickets to the Operatic Society’s production of My Fair Lady. At eight months pregnant, there was nothing the poor woman felt less like doing than sitting in an auditorium. And apparently Drake loved the theatre, something I didn’t know. Plus, they were aisle seats, meaning toilets were easy to get to. A perfect Drake-shaped present indeed.

  I couldn’t stifle my laugh. “A
slam dunk, then.”

  He looked at me like I was a moron. “Damn right. And just you remember that for the future, Mr Ashton.”

  I turned and saluted him. “Carved into my brain.”

  “Not a fan of the theatre, then?” He studied me warily as if reconsidering my value.

  “I’ll let you know after tonight.”

  He gaped. “You’ve never been to the theatre?” He looked gobsmacked. “How is that even possible in this day and age?”

  I snorted. “It’s like you don’t even know me.”

  His gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Are you sure you’re gay?”

  I grabbed his dick through his trousers and gave it a squeeze. “Pretty sure.”

  He slapped my hand away. “I still can’t believe it.”

  “Not something our family ever did,” I said with a shrug. “And I can’t say I’ve ever been tempted as an adult.”

  He nodded sagely. “Of course. Silly me. There’s no glitter ball, leather harnesses, or cheap two-for-one shots. Oh, and everyone’s fully dressed. A complete strikeout, right?”

  I grinned. “Harsh but true. I clearly need educating.”

  He raked his gaze over me, leaving a sizzling trail in his wake. “Clearly. And I’m just the man to do it.”

  That you are. We entered the main street, and I began searching for a car park. “Not exactly the evening I’d imagined.” I waggled my eyebrows at him between sweeps of the road.

  He rested his hand on my thigh and squeezed lightly, sending my dick to full alert. “Let’s see how you behave in here first, Professor Higgins.”

  I frowned. “Who?”

  “Jesus Christ. Kids these days. Give me strength.”