A Reason to Believe

by Diana Copland

  “I like him, too.”

  Sheila’s answering smile was hopeful. “Then maybe it’s enough for now.” She rubbed her hand up and down his arm. He wasn’t sure whether it was an attempt to soothe him or herself. “I know you. Just don’t close yourself off to the possibilities, okay?” She squeezed his bicep. “And for God’s sakes, fuck him already. He’s clearly more than willing, and you need to get laid.”

  Matt scowled. “You’re the only person alive I’d let get away with that.”

  “And don’t I know it!” She winked at him before she turned and opened the front door. It had begun to snow again. “Wonderful. I wonder if your brother managed to get his ass off of the couch to shovel the drive.”

  She pulled her coat collar up around her chin and left. Matt watched until she was safely in her car and backing out of the drive before he closed the door and locked it. He stood with his hand on the cool wood for a few moments, her words running through his mind, before he returned to the living room.

  Kiernan was sprawled on the floor on his stomach, the list of names and the newspaper under his elbows. His chin was propped on one hand, and he was reading through the article.

  “You know,” he said without looking up. “There’s something about this article.” He shook his head. “I just can’t put my finger on it.”

  “I thought it was pretty straightforward.”

  Kiernan looked up from beneath the dark curls. “Oh, it’s not the writing. It’s…” He blew a noisy breath out through his mouth and sat up. “I don’t know. Something about it. Just a feeling I get, like I’m missing something Abby was trying to tell us…” He ran one hand through his hair absently as he stacked the papers. “At least we’ve got the guest list started.”

  “Sheila’s got a friend she wants to run it by, a gal who cuts hair at an upscale salon. I told her to be very careful what she says.”

  “It’s a good idea, though. Those people hear everything that goes on in a town.”

  “That’s what Sheila said.”

  “She’s great, you know?” Kiernan said, sitting up.

  “She is,” he agreed. “Occasionally she needs to butt the hell out, but she’s great.”

  “It’s part of the sister clause. They reserve the right to tell us how to live our lives and be a first-class pain in the ass.”

  “She’s not my sister.”

  “Sure, she is. She’s your best friend, and she’s married to your brother. If that doesn’t make her your sister, I don’t know what does.” He stretched lavishly, his arms going up over his head, and his back arched. The wide strip of pale skin that appeared between his shirt and his flannel pants caught and held Matt’s attention. His heartbeat was solid and heavy in his chest, a pleasant reminder of what desire felt like surging through his veins. Kiernan dropped his arms and caught Matt’s eye. And held it.

  Matt didn’t look away. He figured it must be obvious what he was thinking when a slow, knowing smile moved over Kiernan’s features. He held up his hand, and Matt grabbed it and pulled him easily to his feet. They ended up standing chest to chest, separated only by their joined hands. Matt’s face lowered and Kiernan’s lifted.

  The feel of Kiernan’s solid chest against the back of his hand, and the look on his face as his eyes went half-lidded and his lips parted slightly made Matt’s breath quicken. He tightened his grip around Kiernan’s hand. The expressive eyes darkened.

  “Hello, there,” Kiernan murmured.

  “Hey,” Matt replied, his voice deepening. It was the closest they’d been in hours. Matt reached out with his free hand and brushed his fingers gently over the purple bruise just above Kiernan’s collar. “She noticed this, by the way.”

  “Did she? What did she say?”

  “She complimented me on a job well done.”

  Kiernan laughed.

  “I don’t know, though. Not sure it’s really colorful enough for a character like you.”

  Kiernan’s eyes were shining when he angled his head to the side, baring his throat. “Well, feel free,” he offered, and Matt smiled.

  “Tired?”

  Kiernan shook his head slowly. “Nope. You?”

  “I had a nap, remember?”

  They were so close Matt could feel Kiernan breathe, feel the steady rhythm of his heart beating against the back of his hand.

  “Hungry?”

  Kiernan’s lips curled slowly. “Maybe later.” His eyes dropped to Matt’s mouth. “After.” Going up onto his toes, he opened his mouth slightly, as if he might kiss Matt—and waited.

  Matt could feel Kiernan’s breath against his lips, catch the scent of coffee, almost taste it as he parted his own lips in anticipation. But Kiernan didn’t kiss him. He just remained there, hovering as he held Matt’s gaze.

  “So,” he whispered finally. “Are you going to kiss me, or what?”

  There seemed little left to talk about. Matt lowered his head and took Kiernan’s lips in a searching, demanding kiss.

  It wasn’t long before the angle became awkward. Matt finally released the grip on Kiernan’s hand, circled the slender body with his arm and lifted. His open mouth widened, and his tongue slipped between Kiernan’s teeth. Kiernan made a soft sound of welcome and his hand slid up to the back of Matt’s head, his fingers spearing into Matt’s hair.

  “Want you,” Kiernan said when their lips parted, opening his mouth against Matt’s throat.

  Matt cocked his head. “Yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Kiernan’s free hand slid sinuously south over Matt’s stomach, his palm covering the thick bulge in Matt’s jeans. “Want to kiss you.”

  Matt sighed, his eyes drifting closed as Kiernan mapped his hardening length, lost in the feeling of the friction on his cock, of the warmth and dexterity of Kiernan’s hand.

  “Want to suck this.” Kiernan squeezed.

  Grunting at the sudden rush of blood to his prick, Matt caught his wrist. “Somewhere horizontal,” he managed, his voice rough. “Now.”

  He started for the couch, but Kiernan stopped, urging him toward the bedroom. Matt allowed himself to be pulled down the hall. It was probably a good idea. There were things they were going to need in his bedside table. Lube and condoms. His gut tightened in anticipation.

  The bedroom was in shadows. It was light enough for Matt, but apparently Kiernan had other ideas. He turned on the lamp next to the bed, flooding the room with a golden glow, and looked up into Matt’s eyes.

  “I want to see you.” His hand moved over Matt’s chest in a slow, sensuous caress. “All of you. Kiss me?” His chin lifted, and Matt couldn’t resist the desire on his face. It was a swift, hard kiss, his hand gripping the back of Kiernan’s neck. Kiernan’s tongue stroked along Matt’s when he plunged it into his mouth, and Kiernan caught and sucked on it in a rhythm so persuasive Matt’s toes curled.

  Kiernan pulled back, his lips plump and slick, and he stared up into Matt’s face as he reached for the hem of his T-shirt.

  Matt stood still under Kiernan’s hands as they pushed under the loose cotton, warm palms sliding up his sides, fingers spread over his ribs. He inhaled sharply at the feeling. He’d missed the heady joy of a man’s touch. The fabric caught on Kiernan’s wrists as he moved his hands higher and Matt, out of patience, reached down and yanked the shirt up and off over his head.

  He wasn’t a terribly vain man. He was a cop, he had to stay in shape. On a normal week, he went to the gym four times, working out with weights, running six miles on the treadmill. To him, being fit was simply part of the equipment. Some detectives, when they were promoted, allowed themselves to go soft but Matt hadn’t. The raw appreciation in Kiernan’s eyes as he ran his hands over Matt’s muscled chest made him glad.

  “God,” Kiernan said, his voice low. “Look at you.” His hands mapped the s
pan of Matt’s shoulders, skimmed down his sturdy biceps and covered his full pectorals with his palms. His thumbs teased over the small, copper-toned nipples, and Matt inhaled sharply. Kiernan glanced up. “Sensitive?” He flicked them lightly with his thumbnails.

  Matt nodded and Kiernan leaned forward, kissed his left nipple, then parted his lips and pulled it into his mouth. Matt closed his eyes on a soft sound, his hand fisting Kiernan’s hair. A jolt of fire went from the pull of Kiernan’s lips down, and his cock pressed urgently against the confinement of his jeans.

  Kiernan’s mouth moved to his other nipple, sucking, open, leaving a trail of moist heat over the expanse of skin. His hands were as busy as his mouth, caressing Matt’s sides, the heavy musculature along his spine in the back, the agile fingers tracing his body. When Kiernan’s hands went to his waist and unbuttoned his jeans, Matt lowered his head and watched.

  His jeans fell open under the nimble fingers. Kiernan pushed them past his hips, caressing the muscle above each prominent hipbone as he did.

  “Christ, you’re a wet dream,” he murmured in an almost worshipful tone, his hands skimming Matt’s thighs as his pants fell to his ankles. Matt stepped out of them and kicked them aside. Unhesitating, Kiernan caressed the heavy weight of Matt’s cock, tracing the curve from low in his groin almost to his navel.

  Kiernan slipped his fingers into the waistband of Matt’s briefs and pulled them out and down, freeing him, kneeling smoothly as he did. Matt was about half-hard, and he caught his breath when Kiernan circled him with his hand, stroking, a look of rapt concentration on his face. His fingers slid slowly to Matt’s base and held him, and he glanced up. He smiled slightly before his eyes drifted closed, and he leaned forward and took Matt into the warm moist heat of his mouth.

  Matt made a harsh sound in his throat, his hands clenching into fists. Christ, how had he survived without this? “God, you’re good with your mouth,” he said roughly. Gleaming eyes looked up at him.

  Initially, Kiernan concentrated on just the wide, spongy head, tonguing the sensitive divot just beneath his slit. Matt grunted in appreciation. But before long Kiernan was moving his mouth up and down more and more of the length of him, the hot wet suction making gooseflesh stand on Matt’s shoulders. When Kiernan’s nose brushed his pubic hair, his throat squeezing the tip of his cock as he swallowed, Matt growled, his fingers gripping the silky strands of hair, fighting the urge to thrust.

  “Sweet Jesus. Come up here,” Matt ordered, grabbing Kiernan’s upper arms.

  He stood, lifting his face and offering his lips. Matt kissed him almost savagely, then pushed him to sit on the edge of the wide bed, kicking off his own briefs and reaching for the hem of Kiernan’s shirt. He yanked it off over the tousled head, admiring the muscles in his square shoulders before placing his hand in the middle of his chest and pushing.

  Kiernan went down onto his back, looking up at Matt with bright eyes. “Very domineering. Is it a cop thing?”

  Matt narrowed his eyes. He was beginning to feel faintly out of control, and a fine tremor of anticipation centered in his chest.

  He bent over Kiernan, slipping his fingers under the waistband of his plaid flannel pajama bottoms and sweeping them down his legs. Beneath them, Kiernan was wearing black boxers with green shamrocks on them, the words Feelin’ Lucky stenciled around the waist.

  A laugh burst from Matt. “Never a dull moment.”

  “Like them?” Kiernan stacked his hands behind his head.

  Matt grabbed the boxers and pulled them off, tossing them into the corner. “Like them better now.”

  His eyes raked Kiernan from his head to his toes and back again, and he made a sound of pleasure. He’d felt the lithe, firm shape of Kiernan’s body through his clothes and thought he’d known what to expect, but his assessment hadn’t actually done him justice.

  Kiernan’s skin was light, his nipples dusky pink, his cock long and tapered and flushed, hard against his belly. Matt climbed onto the bed and bent at the waist, catching Kiernan’s face between his hands, pulling him up into another raw, openmouthed kiss. Kiernan’s arms lifted around his neck, and Matt pulled him further onto the bed.

  He dragged his mouth down Kiernan’s jaw to his neck, finding the spot he’d bruised earlier, worrying it between his teeth. Kiernan made a sound, a cross between a gasp and a moan. He arched up with his hips, his hardness brushing Matt’s belly. Matt continued down Kiernan’s sternum, nipping one pink nipple, his tongue circling it as his fingers circled Kiernan’s swollen cock.

  “Nice,” he murmured into Kiernan’s skin, stroking him firmly.

  Kiernan inhaled sharply, exhaled on a trembling laugh. “Not bad. However, when compared with another on display in the room—”

  “It’s perfect.” Matt marked Kiernan sharply with his teeth just above his navel.

  He gasped. “Hey, I’m not complaining. I’m rather fond of it myself, actually.”

  Matt snorted softly into his skin, sliding lower, his nose brushing the slender line of black hair that ran south from Kiernan’s belly button. “Not as fond as I am.”

  The pads of his fingers skimmed the heavy vein running up the underside of Kiernan’s cock, and Kiernan pushed himself up onto his elbows, his eyes wide as he watched. Matt looked up and took him into his mouth.

  Kiernan’s stomach contracted, and he breathed a ragged sigh as his eyes rolled up. “God,” Kiernan groaned. A bright flush bloomed across his cheeks and spread down his neck. Matt increased the pressure of his tongue along the underside, and Kiernan whimpered, hips flexing.

  Matt cupped Kiernan’s balls, squeezed, and Kiernan’s breath hitched. Pushing Kiernan’s legs up toward his chest and holding his rigid cock against his hard belly, Matt lowered his mouth, pulling first one soft globe into his mouth and then the other.

  “Oh.” Kiernan fell onto his back, his legs spreading restlessly “Oh, Jesus.”

  Matt pressed his tongue behind his balls then massaged firmly with his fingers. Kiernan’s thighs twitched, his toes clenched. Matt let his fingers drift further south, brushing in a featherlight touch over the tightly furled hole, and Kiernan fisted his hands in his own hair.

  “There’s lube in the bedside table,” Matt said.

  Kiernan lifted his head, his eyes snapping open. “Huh?”

  “Lube. Nightstand.”

  “Oh, yeah, right. Okay.” Kiernan reached out awkwardly, nearly knocking the lamp from the table in the process. He finally tugged open the drawer and found the bottle with a grasping hand. Gracelessly, he shoved it toward Matt.

  Matt uncapped and upended it, allowing a slender thread of the clear gel to fall behind Kiernan’s balls.

  Kiernan gave a strangled gasp.

  “Cold, I know.” Matt recapped the bottle and tossed it aside. “Here, I’ll warm it up.” He circled the puckered flesh and pressed gently against it, entering Kiernan with one finger before taking his swollen cock back into his mouth.

  Kiernan made a startled sound, his hands gripping the bedspread. He squeaked when Matt found and pressed against his prostate.

  “Stop, stop.” He flinched when Matt did it again. Matt pulled his mouth off slowly, tonguing his slit, causing Kiernan to fidget restlessly. A distinctive, musky taste filled Matt’s mouth as pre-come coated his tongue.

  “Why would I stop?” he said. “I don’t want you to hold back.”

  “I want to come with you inside me.”

  Matt stilled, need bright and sharp in his chest. His cock throbbed so hard it ached. He had to reach down and squeeze around the base so he didn’t lose it from Kiernan’s words alone.

  “Condom,” he said harshly. “In the drawer.”

  Kiernan rolled onto his side, rummaging through the drawer until he came back with a condom in his hand. He tried to open it, but his hands were shaking. Matt
finally relieved him of it and tore it open himself. He smoothed it down over his stiff cock.

  When it was seated firmly around the base, he caught Kiernan around the hips and flipped him onto his stomach, pulling him up onto his knees. He stared at the perfect round ass and made an appreciative sound as his hands filled with it. His fingers flexed, pressing into the muscled flesh.

  “Kiernan, this is a world-class ass.” He leaned forward and took a nip from the right cheek.

  “Glad you like it,” Kiernan replied, his voice slightly muffled by the bedding. “But you’ll forgive me if I’d rather you fucked it than waxed poetic about it.”

  That pulled a sharp laugh from Matt, and he coated both his fingers and his latex-sheathed prick with more lube. When he circled the pink, puckered opening with two fingers, Kiernan pressed back. Matt felt the muscle twitch, pulsing, opening as if it would draw them into his body. He made a harsh sound and pushed in, twisting.

  “Oh, God,” Kiernan moaned. He encircled the cock that hung heavy and hard between his thighs and began to stroke it roughly. Matt curled his fingers down, searching, and Kiernan jerked, the muscles in his back stiffening. “Christ, don’t tease. Please, Matt.” He pressed back against Matt’s hand. “Please.”

  Matt withdrew his fingers and reached down to line himself up.

  The thick head of his cock strained against the small hole and then slowly stretched and breached it. Kiernan made a strangled sound, his neck bowing and his elbow moving more quickly, picking up speed as he stroked himself harder. Matt eased forward carefully, but he could feel the tight clench of Kiernan’s body around him, the heat that even the latex encasing him couldn’t diminish. When he was fully sheathed and his balls were resting against Kiernan’s ass, he paused and fought to control his breathing.

  Kiernan squeezed down around him and pushed back. “Fuck me.”

  The very thin thread holding Matt’s control snapped. He leaned forward and wrapped his arm around Kiernan’s sweat-slicked waist, pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in. The headboard bounced loudly against the wall.