“Laine.” Sev didn’t know if it was a prayer or a protest. He licked his lips and ground his cock against the thick thigh, whimpering as jolts of pleasure spread throughout his body. A look of torment dimmed Laine’s pretty eyes even as the man ground his cock against Sev’s abs.
“I can’t do this…” The anguish in Laine’s voice was impossible to miss, but his body was telling Sev a different tale.
“You can.” Sev tugged on Laine’s shirt, jerking the tails from Laine’s waistband. He shoved his hands underneath the starched material and the cotton shirt as well, shuddering when he felt the smooth, hard planes of Laine’s stomach. “Who’s gonna know but you and me? And I promise not to tell.” Sev dragged his nails over the taut muscles, just hard enough to push the spark between them into a fury of flames.
Laine rocked against Sev, his hands tightening on Sev’s shoulders. “I can’t, I shouldn’t—”
Sev found Laine’s nipples, tight and pebbled, just waiting for Sev’s touch. He flicked them once, then pinched. Laine’s back arched and he growled, and Sev had more than a fleeting thought that he might be in trouble after all, because that was a sound he wanted to hear again and again, a sound he’d never grow tired of.
“I ca—” Laine’s grip started to loosen.
Sev scraped his nails over Laine’s nipples, then his world was spinning, twirling in a dizzying kaleidoscope of confusion that had Sev scrabbling for a hold on Laine’s chest. Sev’s back hit the bed then his body was covered by one lean, sexy sheriff. Eyes slitted narrowly, Laine lowered his head until his lips hovered a breath away from Sev’s.
“I shouldn’t…” Whatever had held Laine back before flitted across his features then was gone. Sev opened his mouth to protest, because he was going to curl up and cry if he didn’t get to come some way or another with this man. Laine cut him off before he could speak.
“But I’m gonna.” Laine’s lips brushed against Sev’s softly, setting off sparks in every nerve in his body, then those same nerves seemed to burst with pleasure as Sev’s mouth was devoured, Laine’s tongue sweeping in, learning every ridge and groove. The taste of Laine flooded Sev’s senses, mint and coffee blending together with a unique flavor that pulled a strangled sound from Sev. Teeth and lips mashed together, dicks ground against each other’s bodies. Laine pushed up with one arm, then Sev felt Laine grappling for the button on his jeans.
Sev reached down to help Laine and they fumbled and fought to open Sev’s pants. Another of those sexy growls passed Laine’s lips, the vibrations rumbling into Sev’s mouth as Laine plundered it again. Sev’s balls drew close to his body and he groaned. He wanted to feel Laine’s hand on his cock before he came. Laine lifted his lips from Sev’s and pushed himself upright until he was straddling Sev’s thighs. Sev knew a moment’s panic, sure that Laine was going to crawl off the bed and leave him wanting, but the need in Laine’s eyes reassured him that wasn’t going to happen. Instead, Laine grabbed the waistband of Sev’s jeans and popped the button open. His hands were steady until he had Sev’s zipper down, then with trembling fingers, he pulled at the elastic of Sev’s underwear, groaning as the glistening head of Sev’s cock appeared.
“Damn, that’s pretty.” Laine’s voice was only a hair less shaky than his hands as he ran a finger over Sev’s leaking slit. The shudder that rippled through Sev bordered on painful as his muscles clenched.
“God, Laine…please!” Sev tried to thrust against Laine’s hand and whimpered when Laine’s weight on his thighs kept him from finding the friction he needed. Sev reached for his dick, desperate to come, but Laine batted his hand away.
“Just a sec…” Laine fisted Sev’s cock at the base, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. His other hand worked the button of his jeans. The zipper slid down and Sev’s eyes widened at the thick red cockhead peeking from the waistband of Laine’s boxers. Sev pushed himself up on his elbows, his mouth watering at the amount of pre-cum that slicked the crown of Laine’s dick.
Laine shoved his boxers down far enough to grip his heavy length, and before Sev could speak, before he could tell Laine that he wanted that thick shaft in his ass, Laine started stroking them both, a dick in each hand, with a grip that was better than anything Sev had ever managed on himself. His arms gave and Sev’s head hit the pillow, his eyes closing no matter how hard he tried to keep them open as pleasure swamped his body. Laine’s strokes became faster, his breath coming out in heavy grunts. Laine’s legs trembled, but the man’s hand never faltered. Skin tingling with warmth as his body flushed, Sev’s back bowed as he dug his fingers into the mattress.
Something that sounded like a mix between a whimper and a yell was torn from him as he came, spraying spunk onto his belly and chest. Sev gasped and struggled for air, then forced his eyes open as he felt Laine’s knees shift. Laine let go of Sev’s cock and dropped down until he was kneeling over Sev, head flung back, one arm planted by Sev’s shoulders as he jacked his dick and groaned as bursts of thick, hot cum hit Sev’s chest. Sev forgot to breathe, he was so stunned by the erotic vision of Laine in orgasm. The man’s face almost glowed with the intensity of his climax. His cock pulsed out one last jet of cum, then his head dropped, hanging low enough that his hair tickled Sev’s forehead. Deep shudders rocked Laine and jerky breaths sounded harsh in the small hotel room.
Sev pried his fingers loose from their grip on the mattress and slipped his hands inside Laine’s shirt again. Laine hummed in approval as Sev caressed his sides, nothing overtly sexual in the touch, just the two of them enjoying the feel of each other’s flesh.
Later, once Sev had spent hours dwelling on his stupidity, he believed that if his brain hadn’t been melted into a sloppy gray liquid he might not have opened his mouth and screwed up. If he’d been thinking, he would have been cautious, would have waited until he and Laine had touched and kissed and stroked to their hearts’— No! Their bodies’—content.
But no, he had been a dipshit and forgot everything he knew about spirits. The nagging presence that had pushed and annoyed Sev until he’d given in and come to McKinton had whispered along Sev’s senses again, buzzed in his brain. The spirit had been pleasantly happy instead of insistently harping as it had been doing before.
Sev had been relaxed and content in a way he hadn’t before. Part of that was because Laine had discovered Sev’s ability to speak with the dead—it had been there in the report, had to be, and Laine hadn’t mocked him. Well, Laine hadn’t really gotten the chance to, either, since they’d gone at each other in a spectacular frenzy of need. Still, Sev had seen and heard Laine speaking with the spirit, so it hadn’t seemed like a bad thing at the time to ask him.
“Who’s Conner Sutherland?”
No, it hadn’t seemed like a big deal at the time, but later, as Sev sat alone in his hotel room, the evidence of their climaxes drying on his skin, the desolation he felt served to remind him just how much of a fool he’d been.
* * * *
The smell of Severo’s cum mixed with his own haunted Laine on the drive back to his house. He’d barely parked the truck and got the door open before he dropped to his knees and threw up.
Who’s Conner Sutherland?
The question echoed repeatedly in Laine’s head, his body heaving and rocking with fear and adrenaline. Had the pesky ghost been the man Laine loved? It had to be. Severo wouldn’t have asked otherwise, would he? But how could he not have known, not have felt something…familiar about the presence? Conner had been dead for over three years, but Laine still thought of him, still missed him when he went to bed at night, lying awake and aching until his exhausted body finally shut down.
How could he not have known? Another violent shudder racked Laine’s body, the force of which set his teeth to chattering as his stomach clenched again. The wind kicked up and sent a bolt of panic through Laine until he realized there was nothing supernatural to it, just Mother Nature doing her thing. He forced himself to stand and felt his knees tremble when the
image of Severo, looking completely debauched and sexy as sin, hit him. The expression on the man’s face when Laine had left him tore at Laine.
He would have sworn Severo had meant it when he’d said he was more of a fuck-and fun-type of guy, but when Severo had asked about Conner—and not just anyone named Conner, but Conner Sutherland, so there was no doubt—Laine had felt as though someone was ripping his heart out. He’d leaped from the bed and hauled ass out of there so fast, he’d been lucky to remember to tuck his dick back in and zip up. Laine had spared a seething glance at Severo, and the hurt he’d seen there was almost as bad as the pain Laine had felt when the other man had brought up Conner.
Letting the scene play out behind his eyes, something suddenly occurred to him. He hadn’t spoken a word, not one, after Severo had asked that question. He’d run off like a coward, not giving a second thought to the man lying on the bed covered with milky white spunk, tangy proof of their attraction.
Had Conner seen them? Been aware of what they had done?
“Oh God.” Laine dragged his hands down his face and headed to the front door. Too much, this is too freakin’ much for me to comprehend! His fingers trembled and he had to try several times before he got the key in the lock. Once inside, he made a quick call to Doreen and told her he was running late. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Laine was startled by his appearance. He looked desolate and more than half wild, his eyes reminding himself of a hyped-up suspect, guilt and a frenetic look bordering on crazy clear in his gaze.
Laine understood both of those things. He’d felt a searing sense of desolation since Conner had been murdered, tied and tortured, in his bed. The things that had been done to Laine’s lover were unimaginable. Never in all of his years on the police force had Laine encountered a level of twisted viciousness such as he’d had to face when he’d found Conner. Seeing his lover cut open like that had killed something inside Laine as well, leaving him raw and hurting, anger and guilt riding him until, at times, he felt no different than a wild and wounded thing, ready and needing to strike out at any and everybody.
Conner’s death was compounded by the fact that neither of them had been out—it had made it impossible for Laine to grieve openly. Conner had deserved that grief, but instead, Laine had kept it tucked deep inside, where it festered with the guilt he felt, not only for not being able to protect Conner, but for not being brave enough, not loving the man enough to step out of the closet. Conner had been as deeply secretive about their affair as Laine had, but it didn’t matter. Laine was the one left behind.
What made it worse, so much more unbearable, was the fact that the sick fucker who’d murdered Conner hadn’t been caught. The police had never even had a suspect, and the knowledge that Conner’s death was still unsolved, his murderer unpunished, could put Laine in a black mood for days, even weeks. At times like that, Laine tried to seclude himself, but it wouldn’t be possible today.
He turned on the shower and stepped under the lukewarm water, trying to get his shit together. Severo’s wounded eyes kept haunting him, and he wondered if, were the spirit really Conner, what had happened between Laine and Severo had vanished Conner forever.
His thoughts of Conner combined with the cruelty Laine had inflected on Severo back in the hotel room was nearly enough to crush him. Somehow, he had to find a way to deal with it all. Conner deserved to rest in peace, his killer rotting away on death row and, though Laine wasn’t quite sure how he would manage to do it, there was a certain man who deserved an apology as well as an explanation.
Do what you know is right, in everything, Laine told himself. That was his grandmother’s advice, and Laine had tried to live by it every day. It was good advice, and he would continue to follow it. The doubts that niggled away at him about whether or not it was right to keep his sexuality a secret, he ignored. Laine shut off the shower and reached for a towel. He couldn’t let himself fall apart again. Laine dried himself off quickly and hung the towel on the towel bar. He turned and walked to his bedroom to get dressed without seeing the gentle flutter of the towel in the small, closed bathroom.
* * * *
Okay, Sev thought to himself, he could understand Laine completely shutting down on him that morning. It was understandable, once Sev had shaken himself out of his funk and gotten busy on his laptop. The articles he had pulled up on Conner Sutherland had been heartbreakingly brutal, and from Laine’s reaction to the name, not to mention the loving vibes Sev felt coming from Conner’s spirit, Conner had been more than just a friend to Laine. Sev made himself look at the picture of a smiling, blond man in the archived news article he’d clicked on.
Conner Sutherland had been a clean-cut, wholesome looking guy. The picture was a little blurry but Sev would swear he could see a mischievous sparkle in the man’s dark eyes. Not exactly plain but not classically handsome, there had been something about Conner that seemed to shine. Sev would be willing to bet it would show through in every picture of the man, though he wasn’t at all certain he wanted to test that theory. That look of agony on Laine’s face when Sev had spoken Conner’s name… Laine had loved the man, probably still did. With a dull ache in his heart, Sev read the report on Conner’s death again, dated April 19th, 2007.
Houston Fireman Brutally Tortured and Murdered
Conner Sutherland, 31, was found dead in his apartment by a Houston police detective. Laine Stenley, a detective with Houston PD, became concerned when Sutherland did not answer his phone. After several attempts to reach Sutherland by phone, Stenley drove to Sutherland’s apartment. When Sutherland did not answer the door, Stenley tried the door and found it unlocked. Inside, he discovered Sutherland bound to his bed and brutally murdered. Police aren’t releasing many details, though an inside source has confirmed that it appeared Conner Sutherland was tortured over a period of hours early in the morning. Police are declining to speculate on a motive for the murder, and they have no immediate suspects.
Sutherland was a Houston native and had been a member of the Houston Fire Department for nine years. Updates to follow.
Sev found Conner’s obituary next. The picture was clear, Conner in his fireman’s uniform, broad shoulders back and what would have been a solemn look on his face except for the slightest quirk of his lips on one side and that gleeful look in the man’s eye. No mention of a partner, which Sev could understand, he guessed, given the two men’s chosen careers. No surviving family members, as Conner’s parents had passed on some time before him.
Those sparkling eyes kept drawing Sev back to them. It was hard to picture Laine with a man who appeared to be full of mischief, the sheriff was such a serious, lone man.
Except for when his eyes tipped into that molten silver color brought on by need, then Laine was everything sexual and potent. Sev rubbed at his semi-erect cock and groaned.
“Definitely not the right time,” Sev muttered, clicking on the link for the next article. Not the right man, either, and he knew it. It was apparent that Laine had loved—still loved—Conner Sutherland, and Sev was as different from the big blond man as he could be. And why should I even be thinking about that? He wasn’t looking for Mr. Right, he wasn’t!
The next couple of articles didn’t offer up any new information on Conner’s murder, and Sev had just about given up hope on learning anything more about the man when what he was reading stopped him cold. The story contained more information leaked from an anonymous insider, and as he read the details surrounding exactly how Conner was tortured and killed, the room grew unnaturally chilly and his senses picked up a presence. This particular spirit was stronger than it had been previously, the power emanating off it calling to Sev in such a way that he couldn’t block it out if he tried. Sev slowly turned from the laptop and scanned the room.
“Conner?” The temperature continued to drop, sending goosebumps traipsing over Sev’s skin. He stopped himself from rubbing his arms and willed the spirit in the room to speak to him. “Conner…please. You need to tell me what’s
going on. Why are you here?”
A form seemed to coalesce across the room, a barely discernible shape Sev could only define as the very air thickening, growing dense until a definite outline of a man was apparent.
“What the fu—” Sev tried to stand up and scoot back as the shape approached…floated. “This is… You can’t… Shit!” Sev spun around the small table and tripped over the other chair, landing flat on his butt. He’d never seen a ghost, not like this, not in the form of a person, and he didn’t care for it. Felt them as an almost electric tingle, sure. Heard them, of course, but this? He wasn’t prepared for this at all. In fact, his heart was beating so fast he was dizzy and black dots kept dancing in front of his eyes—but there weren’t enough dots to block out the image of that dense, see-through spirit as it got closer. The form stopped inches from Sev’s feet and seemed to be studying him.
The cold temperature was way past uncomfortable. Sev darted a glance at his fingers and saw the purplish-blue tinge to his skin, could see his breath slip from his lips in smoky white puffs. Not even the bolt of fear-fueled adrenaline that shot through him when the spirit sank down until it was sitting directly in front of Sev did anything to warm his freezing flesh.
“What… How can you do this?” Sev’s voice sounded way too squeaky even to his own ears, and when he finally worked up the nerve to look up into the spirit’s face, he would have sworn his heart actually stopped. Though no features were visible, Sev got that same feeling he’d gotten as he’d studied the gleam in a certain pair of dark eyes over the past few hours.
“Conner S-Sutherland?”
When the Dead Speak Page 5
