“It’s not my problem,” I told myself when I finally trudged upstairs at the end of the day. “Hey, babe,” I said when my eyes landed on Detective I Can Fuck Like a Machine.
Gabe looked up at me from where he sat on the couch watching his sports talk program. “Hey, yourself.” I noticed he was staring at me longer than normal, as if he was assessing me.
“What?” I asked.
“I kind of miss the streak of color you used to wear in your hair,” he replied.
I narrowed my eyes at him before I stomped to my bedroom to put on more comfortable clothes.
“What did I say?” I heard him ask in confusion.
“Men,” I said to Diva who was curled up on my bed.
“What about men?” I asked Josh. He was so worked up about something he didn’t even hear me follow him. I leaned in the doorway and waited for the show to start. Little did he know, I wasn’t in the mood to participate in whatever little tantrum he wanted to throw.
“You’re always telling people how to wear their hair and shit,” he snarled over his shoulder.
“I’m not always telling people how to wear their hair,” I told him. “I simply just made a comment that I missed the color streak in the front of your hair. You’re the guy telling people how to wear their hair.”
“I make suggestions, but I always leave it up to them.” He narrowed his eyes when he realized what he said wasn’t much different than what I said. “I see what you did there.”
“What’s really got you upset, babe?” I went to him and tugged him into my arms, earning a glare from Diva who was enjoying the loving she was getting from her human. I listened to him talk about his crazy day and how it ended with Laura Sampson’s visit.
“Where’s he been?” I asked when he got to the part where she said Billy had been gone for a few days. We knew damn well that he’d been in town because both of us saw him multiple times the previous days.
“I didn’t ask because it’s not my business.” Josh stepped away and began to take off his clothes. “These damn hair disasters make a man hangry.”
As hard as it was for me to do when his clothes started coming off, I took a step back. “I’ll make dinner. How’s spaghetti and garlic bread sound?”
He pursed his lips and tipped his head. “I have stuff to make spaghetti and garlic bread?”
“You do now because I stopped on the way home. It sounded really good to me, but if you’d rather…”
Josh held his hand up to stop me. “No. Spaghetti sounds great. Just let me finish getting my pjs on and I’ll help you.”
“I can handle spaghetti,” I tossed over my shoulder on my way to the kitchen.
I felt his presence in the kitchen before I heard him because my guy was like a ninja. Josh poured himself a glass of wine and leaned against the counter instead of going into the living room to watch TV. “Okay, you heard all about my day so let’s hear about yours. How’d it go with IA?”
I started to tell him about the interview, but didn’t get past their names before he interrupted.
“Wait! Their names are Officers Ronnie Cobb and Lonnie Popp?” he asked, as if I was joking. “What did Ronnie and Lonnie look like?”
“Really?” I asked him.
“Yeah, you’re right. Besides, I bet they’re much more interesting in my mind than in real life.” I had no doubt that he was correct. Other than their names, nothing about them stuck out in my mind.
“They were really serious as all Internal Affairs officers are,” I told him.
“You’ve dealt with them before?” Josh wanted to know.
“Yep,” I replied.
“Is that common? I’d think a guy could go his entire career in law enforcement and not have a run-in with IA, but you’ve done it twice in how many years?” It was actually three times so I held up three fingers. He cocked his head to the side then looked me up and down. He was probably right about it being unusual for me having a run-in with IA that many times, but I had nothing to compare it to. “What happened the first time?” he asked.
As much as I wanted to tell Josh what happened, I couldn’t. “I can’t talk about it, babe. It’s an ongoing case from about four years ago.”
“Wow, it must’ve happened right before you moved here,” he said, but not in a fishing sort of way. Josh knew how seriously I took my job and never pried for information out of me that I shouldn’t share.
“The second time?” Josh asked.
“Oscar.”
“Oh.” Josh blinked a few times then his expression morphed into concern. “I’m sorry, Gabe.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, babe. You did nothing wrong,” I assured him. “I will never be sorry that you survived that night and ended up in my life. Never.”
My words sounded awfully close to a declaration that he wasn’t prepared to hear. He cleared his throat and said, “Anyway, back to your current interrogation.”
“Ouch.” I dropped my hand between my legs and rubbed my balls as if he’d just kicked them. My theatrics garnered an eye roll but little else. “Jillian Rosewood, my union rep, was awesome. Picture Annalise Keating,” I said to give him a visual, “and…”
“Which wig?”
“Josh,” I said in a warning tone, “do you want to hear this story tonight or are we going to drag this out all week long?”
“Detective Butt Munch,” he grumbled before he took another sip of wine. “You know how much I love Annalise.”
“Why yes, Josh, I do like to munch on your butt and yes I know how much you love Annalise,” I replied before I moved on again. “Jillian kept Ronnie and Lonnie,” Josh chuckled when I said their names again, “on the straight and narrow.”
“Did you learn anything about the photos of me or who sent them? Did you get the impression that Ronnie and Lonnie thought there was someone in the CPD involved in this case or just you?”
“Me?”
“Oh come on, you know they’re looking hard at you, especially since you’ve already tangled with IA twice before.” Josh let out a sad sigh and shook his head. “They think you killed Nate then vandalized Princess and dropped off the subsequent photos of me to divert attention.”
“You’re pretty damn good at this,” I told him. “What happened after that?”
“Annalise, I mean, Jillian reminded them that you had an alibi for the night Nate was killed,” he pointed to himself, “so you couldn’t possibly have been the one to run Nate off the road and shoot him in the head. Frick and Frack–because I can’t say their real names without laughing–are now willing to concede that you didn’t kill Nate yourself, but they suspect you know who did. By now they might’ve even talked to a few patrons of Vibe, or even their bartenders,” he added excitedly, “and know about your personal visit with Nate not long before he died. Add in the email…” Josh let his words trail off.
I shut off the burners beneath the meat sauce and noodles. “You’re really good at this,” I told him. To the best of my knowledge, they didn’t know about my hookup with Nate. If they did, it wasn’t mentioned to me. I wouldn’t have denied it, but I wasn’t volunteering information either.
“I’m good at a lot of things,” he boasted. Was it a boast if it was true?
“Yes, you are.” I drained the pasta and returned it to the pot then poured the pasta sauce over top of it. Josh handed me the slotted spaghetti spoon. I mixed the sauce and noodles while the bread baked for the final minute. “I’m going to go in there tomorrow and thank her for her time, but I have my own representation.”
Josh pinched my ass hard before he opened the cabinet to get the plates out. “Don’t be snarky,” he told me. “There’s only room for one snarkicist in this relationship.” Josh turned and swayed his perky ass over to the table.
“Hey, you said ‘relationship’ without stuttering or breaking into hives,” I replied.
“You want to make it three days?” he asked. Little did he know, I wasn’t waiting another damn day before I
saw his studio. I knew him better than he realized. He was wanting to make it perfect for me and the only thing I needed for that to happen was him. He was my perfection. “Snarkicist?”
“Snarkicist. S-n-a-r-k-i-c-i-s-t. It’s someone who uses snark as a main form of communication, often in a passive-aggressive way.”
“You learn that talk in Psychology one-oh-one when you went to school to become an accountant?” I asked, knowing it would get a rise out of him. He stood silently with his back to me for so long that I thought I’d gone too far. “Josh…”
He turned around suddenly when he heard the apologetic tone in my voice. “I take it back, Detective Snarky Pants. There is enough room in this relationship for two snarkicists.”
“Good thing,” I told him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“On a serious note,” Josh said once we sat down and started to eat, “you’re not really under a lot of scrutiny, are you?”
“Some,” I said with a shrug. “I can’t blame them and I’m not worried about my job because I haven’t done anything wrong. The only thing that concerns me is that while they’re focusing on me they’re letting a killer get closer to you.”
“I think it’s smoke and mirrors,” Josh said. “I think the vandalism was done to get to you, as were the pictures, so you’d stop investigating something bigger.”
“Adrian and I have batted that around a bit, but neither of us are willing to stake your life on it.”
Josh insisted on washing the dishes and I let him because I did the same thing for him when he cooked. That’s the way it worked in my house growing up and I was glad to see it was working for Josh and me. I was on him the minute the last dish was dried and put away. I gently threw him over my shoulder–he did just eat after all–and carried him to the door that led to the attic. He fussed and put up a little fight, but settled down when I swatted him on his plump ass cheek.
I flipped on the light switch at the top of the stairs and stood in awe of his studio. One wall was nothing but mirrors and the rest were painted in a medium shade of gray. Huge, vibrant watercolor paintings of male ballet dancers were hung on the walls. It appeared that ballet was another one of Josh’s loves and I wondered if he ever took lessons or just loved it from afar. Regardless, it was another nuance of his personality that I stored in my heart.
Then my eyes feasted on the pole in the center of the room. I had never in my life seen one of them before, except in movies. I had never seen a man pole dancing anywhere except in my imagination after Josh told me about his hobby.
“Will you put me down now?” he asked.
“Will you promise not to run?” I put him down without waiting for his answer because I knew in my heart he was done running from me. I also knew that Josh liked to do things on his terms and timeline. He wasn’t just Josh anymore; he was part of an us.
“I wanted to wear something sexier or…”
“I don’t need sexy outfits, scented air, candles, or anything else except you. Hell, I don’t even need the pole, but I’d sure like to see what you can do.”
He studied me closely for several long moments while he chewed on his bottom lip. I hated the insecurity I saw in his eyes and was about to call the whole thing off when he stood taller and straightened his shoulders. “Prepare to be wowed.” Josh set about lighting candles and adjusting the lights in his studio anyway. He pulled a chair over for me to sit at directly in front of the pole, but far enough away that I couldn’t touch him.
Josh took a deep breath and then stripped down to his underwear, which happened to be the aqua jock strap that I loved. You can bet both my dick and I perked right up when I feasted my eyes on his firm bubble butt. Josh pushed play on a remote then slit it across the floor so it was out of his way. My mouth fell open when the sexy, bluesy music from Eric Church’s “Like a Wrecking Ball” began playing. If I was going to create a soundtrack to make love to, that song would be my first pick.
I watched as Josh mounted the pole and began to perform a routine of spins and moves that were both beautiful in their execution and perfectly timed to the sultry beat of the music. I watched in complete awe as he appeared to be walking on air at times or supporting the entire weight of his body with one hand. Every move he made was flawless and appeared to be effortless, but I saw the way his abdominal muscles flexed beneath the skin.
My need for him grew with every sexy beat of the music until I couldn’t take it anymore. Josh ended his routine when I rose from my chair. He stood with his back pressed to the pole and watched as I stalked the rest of the way to him.
“You’re so beautiful and sexy,” I said, “and all mine.”
I didn’t give him a chance to respond, but I didn’t need his words to know that he was as turned on as I was. He shook in my arms, his lips trembled beneath mine, and he dug his fingers in my ass to pull me closer. I knew the way he panted into my mouth had nothing to do with physical exertion and everything to do with his hunger to have me inside of him.
It wasn’t arrogance on my part for saying that because he pulled his mouth away from mine and directed me to where he hid condoms and lube for my big night. I retrieved the items like he asked me to, but I didn’t just lube up and fuck him like he expected. I turned him around to face the pole then dropped down behind him to get at his sexy ass.
I took my time teasing the crinkled flesh that Josh had teasingly called my pleasure portal more than once. At the time, I had snorted because it sounded so corny but hell if it wasn’t true. I teased his ass with my tongue and took my time stretching him open with my tongue and two fingers until he begged me to fill him. His body shook with anticipation when I rolled the condom on and added more lube.
I rose to my feet then turned Josh to face me. I lifted him up and he wrapped his legs around my waist then I pressed his back against the pole. Josh hooked his arms around my neck and pulled my face to his for a hot, searing kiss. I captured his gasp in my mouth when I entered him. The music he danced to was on repeat and I showed him that he wasn’t the only one who could perform to music. Yep, it was the perfect song for making love.
Josh dug his nails in my scalp to get me to fuck him harder, but the tempo I set felt so fucking good that I never wanted to stop. I ignored his attempts and pinned him tighter against the pole to prevent him from fucking himself on my dick and continued with the pace that, although he fought, made him moan and whimper in pleasure.
“I’ve got you, Josh.” I needed him to know, that no matter what, I had him covered regardless of the pace life set or the obstacles it threw at us.
“I need…” His words came out in pants.
He wanted to take control because the things I made him feel scared him. If he could just take control, then he’d feel grounded. Well, his feet weren’t on the ground, they were wrapped around my waist and I wanted to show him that he could trust me–then and always.
It would’ve been easy to sit in the chair and let him ride me, but easy wasn’t the answer. I kissed him through his panic until he relaxed completely in my arms. Josh’s body gave off the signs that he was close to coming and I kept making love to him until I felt the hot splash of his cum on my stomach. Once I got what I needed from him, I relaxed my grip and let him take over.
Josh reached behind him and gripped the pole above his head with both hands and pushed against me until I stepped back enough so that his body was at an angle. I placed my hands on his hips when he began to move, riding my cock by undulating his hips in a hypnotic way that had me on the edge too fast.
“It’s my turn,” he said, when I moved to take control back.
Josh rode my cock until my legs shook and threatened to give out. He smiled wickedly and his hazel eyes gleamed a darker hue as he worked me until I thought I would die if I didn’t come. The smooth way his body moved had to be illegal, because I was surely addicted to him as others were to narcotics.
“Josh,” I said between gritted teeth. I needed more friction and for him to move faster
. I. Was. Right. There. Josh laughed wickedly the moment I came inside him. My orgasm was a slow roll through my body until I shattered into a million pieces.
I don’t remember falling to my knees with Josh wrapped around me, but that was how we ended up. He cooed and kissed my face as I returned to the land of the living. “Look who’s back,” he said lovingly.
“I think you nearly killed me,” I told him.
“No, that’ll be my reverse cowboy. I’m only going to bring that bad boy out on special occasions like birthdays and anniversaries.”
My heart rate tripled when Josh mentioned anniversaries, as in he planned on having them with me. “Who are you and what have you done with my Josh?”
“I’m still your Josh,” he said. It was one of the sweetest exchanges we’d ever had. I was impressed on how far we’d come in a relatively short time. Then he said, “So try to avoid getting framed and sent to prison for this Nate Turner case. It would be murder on our sex life.”
“There’s my Josh.”
Before I knew it, Gabe and I were boarding a plane to Miami for Meet the Parents Week. An itty-bitty part of me expected Internal Affairs to ban Gabe from traveling due to his shady past in Miami. Okay, that was a huge exaggeration on my part because I had no clue what the deal was in Miami. A few months ago, I would’ve taken it personally that Gabe didn’t trust me with the story. I knew him enough to know that he did trust me and would tell me if he could. Gabe was a man with a lot of integrity; if he was told not to discuss the case then he wouldn’t discuss the case.
I wasn’t thrilled with the early departure time because the guy beside me in seat 11A kept me up half the night before our trip. Apparently, vacations, or the fact that I was meeting his folks, made Detective Sex on a Stick very horny. Limping up to meet his parents after a night of Gabe liberally using my ass wasn’t my idea of a fun time. Luckily for him, and my sore ass too, he splurged and bought first class seats for us so I could stretch out and be as comfortable as one could be on a plane.
Welcome to Blissville Page 37
