by A J Sherwood
Even Lauren faltered at that, shame and guilt on her face as she looked toward the floor.
“You of all people don’t get to tell us how to have a healthy, happy relationship,” I informed them flatly, my rage roiling in my gut so hard I felt nauseous with it. “You don’t get to butt into our business, and if I catch you giving him any sort of advice again? The fallout will not be pretty. You’ve done enough fucking damage, Rodger. You can shut up now.”
He spluttered, but his eyes couldn’t meet mine, either. “I…I was just….”
“Yeah, you can stop. You’re on very thin ice with me, Rodger. I will not hold back if you put your fat mouth where it doesn’t belong. Lauren, I’m warning you as well. I will not lose Jon because the two of you can’t keep your opinions to yourselves.”
Lauren forced her eyes back up to my face, wincing as she did so. “Do I want to ask how badly he’s hurt that you’re reacting like this?”
In a black tone, I answered curtly, “No.”
Looking at her husband, Lauren got that flinty-eyed expression promising pain. “I’ll take care of it. And I promise you, Donovan, we’ll take more care in what we say to Jon from now on, and we’ll not interfere in your relationship with each other again.”
“Thank you.” I forced myself to back off, because I’d done what I came to do, although I still felt the urge to hit something. Before I could give in to the impulse to murder Rodger after all, I pivoted sharply on one heel and stalked out.
Maybe I was overreacting; maybe that hadn’t been necessary. But remembering how Jon had looked in the car, so torn about the idea of us living together, so sure it would break us…it made my anger boil to the surface all over again. I understood where Jon’s scars were, why he flinched the way he did. With his father leaving him at the ripe old age of seven because he couldn’t handle both a psychic child and wife, and Rodger breaking up his parents with an affair, it was enough to do damage to any kid. Add in that Lauren herself kicked Jon out at seventeen because he was too much trouble for her to deal with, well, was it any wonder that Jon had no faith anyone could live with him?
All of that was bad enough, but Rodger was a pushy asshole who could not leave well enough alone. He had no business continually raking Jon over the coals because he wasn’t meeting some arbitrary deadline in our relationship. If it took this kind of confrontation to shut the man up, fine.
And if he did something like this again, there would be hell to pay.
I got into the car and tried to calm down. The one benefit to Jon’s ability was that he had to catch emotions in the moment. Otherwise, he had no clue what had happened. Unless something serious impacted someone’s psyche, they didn’t retain the emotion. I’d learned this by watching him work, but it was a good trick up my sleeve when I’d done something I didn’t want him to worry about. This was one of those times.
When I was still in rehab, I’d struggled with feeling useless, which led directly into cycles of depression and anxiety. I wasn’t used to sitting around; feeling trapped in my own body made it worse. I’d come through that dark time, and in the process, I’d learned how to meditate, how to breathe and shed those emotions. I took a minute in the car to use those techniques. When I felt more myself again, only then did I head for Jon’s.
On arrival, I found the back door to be unlocked and a divine smell coming from the kitchen. My boyfriend was a good cook and he enjoyed feeding me. I liked to eat, so this worked out very well. I called out a welcome as I strode through, locking the door again behind me. “I’m here!”
“Good, it’s almost ready,” he returned, popping his head around the doorframe with a smile. “Lasagna, brussels sprouts, and rolls. We’re waiting on the rolls.”
“I’ll throw my bag upstairs, then.” I pressed a quick kiss on his mouth as I went past him to the hallway. Good, he didn’t notice anything.
“Who did you have a run-in with?”
I stopped dead on the stairs. Dammit. I had not, apparently, shed all my anger as thoroughly as I thought I had. “I may have had a little chat with Rodger and told him to mind his own fucking business.” Creaking my head around, I looked to see how he took that.
Jon leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, looking at me steadily. “May have run into, or you went hunting for him?”
Clearly, if I wanted to fool a psychic detective, I needed to up my game. “More the latter.”
“And what did he say?”
“A lot of stupid things that nearly got him a broken jaw. I told him if he does this again, he will get a broken jaw. For what it’s worth, your mom had no idea he’d said anything to you and was just as livid.” I studied his expression carefully, but he didn’t look at all angry. In fact, was that a smirk playing around his mouth? “You’re not mad.”
“No,” he admitted, his barely-there smirk widening. “I’m just sorry I missed the show.”
I didn’t entirely follow. “Last time I intervened with you and Rodger, you were a little pissed.”
“I was. Pissed at him, embarrassed you felt you had to step in and protect me. But it’s now your job to protect me, and you know the score with Rodger.” He shrugged, as if this was obvious. “Situation’s changed. I know very well I’m not intimidating, but you can put the fear of god into people. So please, feel free to get my step-father to shut up. Big Bear.”
My jaw dropped a little. “How the hell do you—Garrett. You’ve been talking to Garrett.”
Eyebrows waggling mischievously, he admitted, “So I have. I’ll tell you all about it, as it was a very interesting conversation. But first, I think a little positive reinforcement is in order.”
Come again?
I didn’t understand what he meant right up until he caught my hips with both hands and backed me up against the wall. That look on his face…I knew it well, and I grinned at him. “Really? Right here on the stairs?”
“Like I said,” he whispered against my mouth, “positive reinforcement.”
His mouth caught mine in a searing kiss before I could argue. Not that I would ever argue. Dropping my bag carelessly on the floor, I caught his ass with both hands in a tight grip, lifting him into me. He ground against me in tight little circles as he kissed me breathless. All my blood rushed south. I was all for dragging him upstairs and reheating dinner, but my lover clearly had different ideas. He removed both of my hands from his ass and pressed my palms flat against the wall.
Drawing back, he ordered softly, still smirking, “Keep ’em there.”
“Oh hell,” I groaned, flattening my hands even further. “I love it when you go dominant on me.”
“I know,” he purred, hands already busy at my waist, undoing the belt buckle.
I held my breath as he pushed pants and boxers out of the way, that slim, pale hand dipping in and wrapping itself around me before drawing my dick free with a stroke. I was half-hard already and getting harder by the second because I absolutely loved this. He liked to pin me against the wall, and the man gave A+ blow jobs.
A whimper may have escaped my throat as he slowly knelt, wicked blue eyes on mine the whole way down. Gaze never wavering, he flicked his tongue over the head of my cock with varying pressures and speed. The heat and rasp of his tongue sparked zings of pleasure that lit everything in me up. He sucked me in a little further, his tongue swirling the head in a slow glide, round and round. The hand holding me steady jerked tight, short pumps on the bottom of my shaft, while his other rubbed light circles over my perineum. I let my head thump back against the wall, pants and groans breaking free, trembling with both pleasure and the urge to thrust into his mouth. At this angle, I’d choke him, and I did not want him to stop.
He wrapped both hands around my thighs, bracing himself, then sucked me down. A moan tore from my chest as he pulled back and did it again, with a fluttering tongue on the underside of my crown, and the tight constriction of a swallow.
I couldn’t watch him do it; I’d shoot immediately if I di
d. My fingers curled into my fists, nails biting into my palms as I struggled for control because damn that was fine.
Minutes passed, or it could have been merely seconds. My orgasm crested without warning, flashing hot and heavy. I barely choked out, “Jon!”
He hummed, and I was gone, vision flashing white. My hands flew off the wall to grip his head as he swallowed everything down. The rush of endorphins hit, and I sighed out a shaky breath, body happily humming. “If this is how things are going to go, I can beat up on Rodger more often.”
Wiping his mouth, Jon sat back, grinning up at me. “See? Positive reinforcement.” Popping up, he kissed me quickly. “Go throw your bag upstairs, I’ll recount my conversation over dinner.”
“Okay,” I agreed, tucking myself back in. “You know I’m happy to return the favor.”
“Later,” he purred. “I want to eat dinner while it’s hot.”
“Fair enough.” I did love a quickie, even if we’d been a little too close to the front door to not risk giving someone a show. Ah well. I resumed my trek up the stairs, albeit slower than normal. My knees were still a bit shaky, although I tried to go quickly. I wanted to hear just what those two discussed behind my back. I’d known getting Garrett and Jon in the same vicinity would mean trouble for me, but I didn’t expect it this quickly. Then again, maybe I should have. Those two are both friendly types and make friends fast. Of course they’d fall in like two peas in a pod.
I came back down to discover that Jon had already laid dinner out along the counter. He didn’t have a formal dining table anywhere in the place, but the island was massive and could fit eight people in a squeeze. It was plenty of space for us. In our time together, he’d learned quantity was important when it came to feeding me, and he already had half of the lasagna pan on my plate.
Sliding onto the stool, I pressed a quick kiss against his temple. “Thanks for cooking. I’m starving for some reason.”
“Donovan, the day you’re not starving, I’m checking you for a pulse.” With a wink, he picked up a fork and dug in. “So Garrett popped into the front seat just after you left and had a little heart to heart with me.”
“That’s not nerve-wracking at all,” I replied lightly. It actually did terrify me. “Uh, about me?”
With a nod, Jon recounted the conversation. “Basically, he figured out I can see you two used to occasionally hop into bed with each other, and he was checking in with me that things were alright. I assured him they were, that I knew how you felt about each other now, and—”
The phone rang, interrupting Jon, and I frowned at the sound of Jim’s ringtone. He shouldn’t be calling past work hours. Not unless something serious had gone down. I stepped away from the island to answer it. “Hey, boss.”
“Donovan, is Jon with you?”
“Yeah, I’m at his place.” I did not like that tone. “Tell me something good, Jim.”
“I really wish I could. There’s been another attack in Clarksville. They’re on scene now, but the lady died on the spot. Carol’s already on her way up there to do a reading. She hopes she can get a better signature read with the weapon being so fresh out of the unsub’s hands.”
I knew enough about how her ability worked to know those were only fifty-fifty odds. “Okay. But you want us to come up for some reason?”
“Yeah. Well, no. I really don’t want to ask this, but Hall’s screaming for it, and I have an idea of how Jon will react. Can you put him on speaker?”
“Sure.” Turning, I changed the phone setting and extended it a little closer so Jon could speak into it without moving. “Alright, Jim, he’s listening.”
“Jon,” tension bled through every word as Jim briefed us, “that maniac struck again. The woman died on scene. Carol’s on her way to do a reading, but the odds of her tracking him down with it aren’t good. I really hate to ask this of you, but we have no clues to work from. Can you go level three on the coma patient?”
I hated what he was asking. I understood why he had to—people were dying—but I knew what a personal cost this would be to Jon, and I never, ever wanted him in that kind of pain. I was sure my feelings were being broadcasted in neon capital letters, as Jon winced before he locked eyes with me. In them, I could see every ounce of determination and selflessness he possessed reflected at me.
I forgot, sometimes, that he’d done this job without me for years through sheer, dogged determination. Moments like this reminded me sharply I was there to help, not hinder. As much as it killed me to say it, I forced the words out of my mouth anyway. “I’ve got your back, no matter which way you want to go on this.”
Jon closed his eyes and sat there for a moment. His answer was quiet but firm. “Yeah. I’ll go up. Jim, do we have consent from family for me to do a reading?”
“We do. It’s been on file for about three days, or so I understand. When do you want to do this?”
“Tonight, but under the condition Garrett and you go up with us.”
“Me I understand, but why Garrett?”
“Because I have a bad feeling someone will demand answers I can’t give, and I don’t want Donovan forced into a position where he’s trying to wrangle them and help me at the same time. He’ll prefer to have Garrett on hand for this.”
I wanted to kiss him so badly in that moment. He was exactly right. If it went pear-shaped, I wanted Garrett guarding both our backs so I could focus on Jon. “I second that, sir.”
“Then I’ll give Garrett a call. We’ll head out as soon as he’s back up here.”
Poor guy probably just made it home. He was still staying with me, which was a ten-minute drive from here in good traffic, which didn’t exist after five o’clock in Nashville. He’d likely hit traffic trying to reach us. “Okay. See you in forty.” I hung up the phone and considered it. “We should probably pack him something for dinner. I doubt he had a chance to grab anything.”
“Yeah, let’s do that.” Jon regarded me with a small smile. “Thank you. I know you don’t like the idea.”
“I hate the idea. But I know you’re willing to try anything if it means stopping a murderer, especially a serial killer.” I pocketed the phone and regained my seat, as I had dinner to finish before we left. Still, I didn’t immediately dig back in. “You don’t give it good odds she saw anything, though, do you.”
Jon shook his head wearily. “I read through the medical report on her. She got hit square on the back of the head, just like the others. Odds are she didn’t see his face. But she might have seen or heard something else about him that can give us a clue. Frankly, we have such little to go on, anything helps at this point.”
“It’ll mean you’re down for three days,” I pointed out neutrally.
His shoulders lifted in a helpless shrug. “Price to pay. We can’t just sit around and watch him murder people without trying something. Waiting for him to make a mistake will make for a very long wait. He’s very paranoid and clever.”
“Unfortunately,” I growled in agreement, spearing a brussels sprout harder than it called for. “Then here’s hoping she saw something that can help us nail this dickwad.”
“I’ll second that.” He ate two bites before hesitantly asking, “Can you call your mother for me?”
My fork paused mid-motion and I eyed him sideways. “So you did learn your lesson from the last time you went down, eh?”
Grimacing, Jon grumbled at his plate, “That was the nicest lecture I’ve ever received in my life. I felt loved and scolded all at once. Your mother missed her calling as a UN representative, I swear.”
I chuckled, not disagreeing. Our first major case together, when Jon had been forced to go level two on a reading, he had been out of commission for about nine hours. Not a long stretch of time for him, considering, but he was tenderized enough that he’d been forced to crawl into Psy’s meditation room until he recovered. I’d called Mom to tell her about it and she’d immediately brought food over. When Jon finally managed to walk out of there, it was to
find her waiting outside, and she let him know in no uncertain terms that if he did this again, he was to call her ahead of time. He was not allowed to be hurting and her not know about it or be able to prepare food for him in advance.
It was just how Mom rolled, but it made me really happy my family adored this man as much as I did. I think part of it was that they could see how much he loved me and how happy I was with him, but the other part was because he was a likeable man. “I’ll be happy to call her for you. Here, hang on.” I pulled the phone out, hit speed dial and speaker phone, then set it on the counter between us.
Three rings, and Mom answered breathlessly, “Don. Make it quick, we’re heading out the door.”
“Ah, it’s me calling,” Jon said, smiling at the phone even though she couldn’t see it. “Alani, I’m giving you a head’s up, as promised.”
My mother’s demeanor audibly changed, and she switched from rushing to sharply concerned in Mach .02 seconds. “Why? Now what are you going to do?”
“There’s a serial killer on the loose in Clarksville,” Jon explained, “and we have little in the way of leads to follow. The police requested I do a level three reading on one of his victims. She’s in a coma right now.”
Mom mulled this over for about two seconds. “You said before that a level three means you’re flat on your back for three days or more.”
“I’m actually hoping it’s less time than usual, or at least less intense, now that I’m properly anchored.” Jon shot me a hopeful smile. “It was less time for me to recoup from a level two reading, so odds are good on that.”
“Still, you won’t be able to comfortably leave your house for a few days after you do this, right?” She tsked unhappily. “I do not like the sound of this, but I know you’ll do what you can to solve this case quickly. You tell me what groceries you need, I’ll cook for you. You’ll need something in the house tonight, I assume? You’re going up now?”
