My heart raced even though my hands moved slowly. My body demanded that I take what Gabe so lovingly offered, but my heart urged me to savor the gift. Instinct and the desire to please overrode the fear of not being enough. I remembered the way Gabe reacted to the prostate massage I gave him down in the spa room of my salon. We had gone weeks without talking after I hurt him by refusing to have dinner with him. I had missed Gabe so damn much and couldn’t resist the pull of him any longer, especially knowing that he was in my salon; wearing nothing but a thin white sheet and a smile. He had secured my promise to have dinner with him before his massage appointment with Josi. She had found me in the salon when she was finished and told me he’d fallen asleep. Josi had offered to wake him, but I told her to let him sleep.
I had intended for him to get up and get dressed when I woke him, but that wasn’t what happened. Instead, I gave him the happiest of happy ending hand jobs. His reaction had encouraged me to rub the oil over his puckered entrance and push inside when he spread his legs wider in invitation. Seeing such a physically strong man shake and come apart for me was the most powerful experience I’d ever known. I channeled the magic of that moment once Gabe and I were finally naked on our bed.
Gabe closed his eyes and arched his neck, pushing his head into the pillow when I slid my slicked finger inside his tight passage and teased his prostate. I couldn’t resist nibbling his Adam’s apple that was so sexily on display. “Fuck, that feels so good.” Gabe raised his arms over his head and gripped the pillow tight with both hands. “I want you inside me,” he pleaded huskily.
I recalled the times I had begged for the same and Gabe drew out my torture until I could only utter single syllable words and whimpers. It was only fair that I did the same to him. Every moan, every groan, and every plea for more emboldened my hands and mouth until no doubt remained by the time I rolled the condom on my dick.
“Eyes on me,” I told Gabe just as he’d instructed me many times. I pushed inside him once his seductive brown eyes were on me. “Jesus, Gabe,” I said when his tight heat enveloped me. I was once again worried that my inexperience would show when I lasted a whole two seconds in the saddle so to speak. Hotter than his ass’s grip on my cock was the look in his eyes.
Gabe released the pillow with one hand, cupped the back of my neck, and pulled my mouth down to his. I poured my heart and soul into our kiss while I rocked slowly in and out of him. A wave of heat washed over my body and sweat beaded all over my skin while Gabe moved his legs restlessly against my hips, waist, and upper thighs. I could tell he didn’t care for the slow pace and suspected that he wanted to take control.
Gabe fisted his hand in my hair and yanked my head back from his lips. “Fuck me like you mean it, Josh.” His eyes were wild with desperation to come. I loved that Gabe wasn’t afraid to show me what he was feeling and thinking. There was no guess work with my man. He grabbed my ass with both hands and began thrusting up to meet my downward strokes. “Need you.”
“Detective Bossy Bottom,” I whispered against his lips before I captured them in another soul-scorching kiss.
I told myself I only gave in to his demands because it was what I needed too, but the truth was I couldn’t ignore Gabe’s desires. I dug my knees deeper in the mattress and rode him harder, aiming my dick at his prostate. We filled our bedroom with the sounds of panting between kisses, groans, and flesh slapping together. Gabe released my ass with one hand to reach between our bodies to jack his dick in rhythm with my thrusts.
Gabe’s body tensed, and his ass squeezed my cock tighter the closer he came to shooting his load. I needed him to come fast because I was right there and I wanted him to go first or at least blow together. Gabe tore his mouth from mine and shouted jubilantly as jets of cum spurted all over his ripped abdomen and chest. I fucked him until my orgasm hit hard enough to shatter me then I collapsed on top of him while his ass milked every drop from my sac and I filled the condom.
It seemed like it took hours for me to regain enough strength to pull out of him and roll off to his side. “Wow,” I said. “I’m pretty damn good at this too. You came hard.” I ran my finger through the cooling cum on his chest.
“No finger painting with my spunk,” Gabe said, rolling away from me. “Come shower with me and tell me about your day.”
I told him about Chaz and Dr. Dimple’s almost moment during Diva’s appointment, which caused Gabe to roll his eyes.
“You’re not going to give this up, are you?” he asked while he rinsed shampoo out of his hair.
“Nope,” I answered honestly. “I’ve watched those two circle each other for a while now, and it’s time someone put an end to the madness.”
“And you’re the man for the job?” Gabe asked.
“I’m the man for every job,” I replied smugly.
“Just tread carefully, Sunshine. Chaz is your best friend, and you don’t want to ruin your relationship due to well-meaning meddling.”
“I got this under control,” I promised Gabe. “How was your day? Make any progress that you can’t talk about?”
“A little maybe,” he replied. “What do you know about the proposed casino a few years back?”
“Well, it was a big fucking deal,” I told him. “It was nearly a fifty-fifty split of those who opposed and approved it. The people who were for it wanted the jobs for our area and the ones against it worried that it would bring a lot of crime and destroy families. There were a lot of heated debates. Husband versus wife and religion over prosperity kind of discussions.”
“Anyone mad enough to kill over it?” Gabe asked. “Who was the strongest proponent for the casino and who hated it the most?”
I gave his question a lot of thought. Tempers ran high when it was a county issue, but became downright fevered when it went statewide. Regardless of our individual feelings about the casino, we collectively hated that the entire state of Ohio got to decide if the casino was built practically in our back yards.
“The strongest supporter was the landowner of the property the casino investors wanted to buy. I heard rumors that they offered him ten million dollars, so I guess you could say he had ten million reasons to be angry when it didn’t happen,” I told Gabe.
“And who hated the casino the most?” he asked.
“That would be your boss and Sheriff Tucker. They said that crime would go through the roof and destroy our safe community,” I replied, earning a snort from Gabe. I could tell he was thinking about the rising body count in the past year.
He got quiet for a few minutes, and I knew he was processing and analyzing what I’d said. I didn’t mind when Gabe checked out to think because he always came back to me. Like always, his eyes focused on me when he finished, and his smile was a beautiful reminder that I was his universe.
There were times that Josh projected such confidence that I could temporarily forget how mightily he’d been damaged by careless cowards who weren’t brave enough to love all that he had to offer. Then scenes like the previous night happened and I was reminded how close I came to being one of those fucking morons. Had I not discounted him outright when I first saw him because he didn’t fit my typical ideal mold of a man? People say that you don’t know what you’re missing if you’ve never had it, but I think at least a part of me always knew I was missing him.
Josh getting tipsy before he could fuck me was an eye opener. I teased him to lighten the mood as he would do for me, but truthfully there was nothing funny about the situation. Okay, his attempt at smoldering looks and lecherous winks were, but not the reason behind them. Josh was naturally sexy and didn’t need enhancements of any kind to make me want him. I promised myself that I would make him realize that one day. In the meantime, I did all that I could to ease his concerns by being truthful. He had rocked my world in many ways the moment I met him.
Sex—making love—had never felt so good or right as when I was with him and feeling Josh inside me was incredible. I’d had good sex, and even great sex, but bein
g joined with Josh was… magical. I held onto that feeling and those moments whenever my day wasn’t going so great or when I really wanted to grab a douche by the collar and shake him, like when I visited Jack Wallace with Detective Dorchester the next morning. The receptionist gave me the stink eye the minute I walked in and went to Jack’s office to let him know I was there without being told.
“Wow, your reputation precedes you,” Dorchester said. “It doesn’t seem like she cares for your bad cop routine.”
“We’ve gone a few rounds before,” I told him. “Wait until you see the reception I get from the commissioner.”
“I can’t wait,” he said gleefully while rubbing his hands together. We weren’t kept waiting for long, and Dorchester let out a low whistle when he saw the deep scowl on Wallace’s face when his eyes landed on me once we entered his office. “You weren’t kidding.” I shrugged my shoulders.
“Hello again, Commissioner Wallace,” I said in an attempt at being somewhat friendly.
“State your business and get the hell out,” Wallace replied.
I looked over at Dorchester, expecting to see a huge grin on his face. Instead, he stood ramrod straight and narrowed his eyes at Jack Wallace as if he was public enemy number one. “It’d be wise if you showed the respect due to us, sir.”
Wallace snorted and rolled his eyes. “Respect is earned,” he told Dorchester. “Who the hell are you, anyway?”
“I’m Detective John Dorchester with the CCSD. Detective Wyatt and I are investigating the homicide of Nate Turner from January twenty-second of this year,” Dorchester said in his no-nonsense voice. He was always so jovial in my presence that I was surprised to witness that side of him.
“The investigation has brought you to my door?” Wallace asked in surprise. He looked at me and said, “I suppose you blame me for global warming and the reason we can’t have world peace, Detective Wyatt.”
“Nah,” I said dismissively. “We’re not here to question you in an official capacity, Commissioner Wallace. We’d like to know from you if there’s been any renewed interest in building a casino in our county.”
“The casino?” he asked in surprise.
“I was told that you initially supported the project, and I have to ask you if you’ve been approached by anyone from the casino consortium,” I answered.
“No.” He looked and sounded genuinely surprised.
“Do you know who in town the consortium would approach first if they were looking to propose the casino again?” I followed up.
“Well, Rocky and I were the two biggest allies in town, but besides us, I would say the landowner, Lawrence Robertson,” Wallace answered. “He had the most to gain and lose from the entire ordeal. His land was the one McCarren Consortium Inc. had a boner for.”
“Do you know if McCarren Consortium built a casino elsewhere after the initiative failed?” Dorchester asked.
“Aren’t you the investigators?” Wallace fired back.
His condescending attitude went all through me. I had let Dorchester take the lead with the bad cop shit, but it was time for me to take it back. I leaned forward and placed both hands on the commissioner’s desk. “Why don’t you focus on being a good and honest person and not lecture me on how to do my job.”
He glanced back and forth between Dorchester and me, wondering if I had told him about Wallace’s secret life. It wasn’t long ago that Adrian and I had learned about Jack’s affair with the mayor. Jack told us he wanted the truth to be told and live openly with Rocky, but Rocky didn’t return his feelings. Jack cheating on his wife pissed me off, but it wasn’t my place to out the man.
“Okay, then,” Dorchester said, clearly confused about the undertones of anger passing between the commissioner and me. “Let us know if you hear anything, Commissioner.” He laid his business card on Wallace’s desk before he left.
“That guy really pisses me off,” I groused.
“You two have a lot of history?” Dorchester asked.
“Just one run-in, but trust me when I say that it was enough to leave a bad taste in both our mouths,” I replied. “Still, I think Jack would tell us if he knew something important. What do you think about taking a ride out to Robertson’s place and having a talk with him? If his property was the ideal location then, it would still be that way now. It’s possible the land has even increased in value.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Dorchester said.
“Tell me what you know about Lawrence Robertson, other than he owns the land the consortium wanted to buy,” I said once Dorchester gave me directions to Robertson’s farm.
“Well, he’s an enigma,” Dorchester told me. “He’s a fourth-generation farmer, he’s never married, and to look at him, you’d never know he was worth billions.”
“Plain dresser?”
“He looks like he can’t afford soap and his clothes look like they haven’t been washed in two decades,” Dorchester said solemnly. “He lives all alone in that big old family farmhouse and doesn’t socialize with anyone. You’ll see him at the grocery store occasionally or the bank, but that’s it.”
“I wonder what makes a guy live in solitude like that?” I asked him. I had lived as a bachelor for quite a few years, but I still got out and socialized. I couldn’t imagine how lonely that life must be for him. Josh was vibrant and full of life, like my personal ray of sunshine, and I couldn’t fathom living without the joys he brought to my life. “Why would he be so keen on selling his land? And to a casino of all things!”
“Keep in mind that this is pure speculation on my part,” Dorchester said. I nodded my understanding, and he continued. “He has no children to leave the farm to, but he has two nephews from his younger brother, Ken, who died in Vietnam—both brothers served, but only one returned. Rumor has it that he doesn’t like the two nephews at all. They moved away for college and never showed any interest in the farm. They tried to get him to sell the farm to a real estate developer who wanted to build a subdivision years ago—back before the casino was interested in the land.”
“How is that any different than selling the land to the casino?” I asked.
“Both nephews worked for the developer and probably would’ve been rewarded handsomely had the deal gone through,” Dorchester replied. “Ole Lawrence wasn’t about to let them profit off the land they turned their backs on. I reckon he wanted to be in control of what happened to the land rather than let his nephews get it through his estate or something.”
“It’s reasonable then that he’d strike up the conversation with McCarren Consortium again, especially if he’s tired of farming on his own,” I replied.
Lawrence Robertson lived in an extremely rural part of the county. His house was one of just a few on the road. The long driveway was a quarter of a mile long; it added to the seclusion and loneliness of the property. The old home stood tall among the barns and trees, but its haggard and worn appearance clearly showed that it had weathered at least ten decades. The closer we got to the structures the more obvious the neglect became.
“This used to be such a beautiful place,” Dorchester said sadly as I pulled to a stop next to the farmhouse. “Damn, some of the barns look like they’re about to cave in at any moment.”
“How likely is it that the man has a shotgun aimed at us when we exit the car and approach the house?” I asked him. Many people shied away from crowds, but the level of anti-socialness that Dorchester described often meant that other underlying issues were present. The last thing I wanted was to get shot by a paranoid man.
“Likely,” Dorchester replied. “We’ll just have to make our presence known.” We slowly got out of the car, and Dorchester hollered, “Mr. Robertson, we’re not here looking for any trouble. I’m Detective John Dorchester with the sheriff’s department, and I brought Detective Gabriel Wyatt from the Blissville Police Department with me. We just want to ask you a few questions about McCarren Consortium Inc.” We took a few steps closer to the front porch. “We don’t
even have to come inside; we can chat on the front porch, sir.”
We had continued walking slowly as John identified us and the reason we were present on his property. The total lack of noise of any kind stuck out to me. The wind was nonexistent, there were no birds chirping in the trees, and no creaking coming from inside the house to indicate the sole occupant was home and moving around. Maybe he wasn’t home or… “Fuck!” I exclaimed when the putrid smell of decaying flesh reached my nose.
Dorchester was a step ahead of me. “Dispatch, I’m going to need the county coroner,” he said then rattled off Robertson’s address. “Detective Wyatt and I stopped by to ask Lawrence Robertson a few questions, and I can tell by the smell that there’s a DB inside. We haven’t made it inside the house to identify whether it’s Mr. Robertson yet.” Once Dorchester finished his call, he looked over at me and asked, “Are you ready?”
Death is never easy to stumble upon, but it’s worse once the decaying process had started. “Let’s do it.” The door was locked when I tested it, so I lifted my leg and kicked it hard near the doorknob, so I could knock the lock loose from where it engaged with the doorframe. The stench that rolled out of the gaping door was enough to make me gag. People that told you to just breathe through your mouth had never been in a similar situation, or they would’ve known that wouldn’t help. I walked over to the far end of the front porch and sucked some fresh air into my lungs.
“I’ve got Vick’s VapoRub in my trunk,” I told Dorchester after my stomach had settled down. It was a trick I had learned during my time with the MPD where DBs were a more common occurrence.
Welcome to Blissville Page 54
