by Lynn Hagen
To fuck him until Roy couldn’t walk straight.
Armand set the shot glass in front of Roy and poured the drink. Roy sniffed at it before he swallowed it down. He coughed, and tears leaked out the corners of his eyes. The whiskey burned all the way down, making him cough again.
He felt as if his esophagus and stomach were on fire. Roy slammed the shot glass down and pointed at it. “One more,” he said in a rough, loud whisper, waiting for his insides to stop burning.
Armand arched a brow. “You sure you can handle it?”
Roy wasn’t sure he was handling the first one. “One more,” he repeated.
With a shrug, Armand poured another. This time Roy didn’t knock it back. He sipped from the shot glass as the bartender grinned.
“Wise decision.”
Roy ignored the guy, sucked in a deep breath, then swallowed the whiskey down, wishing he’d asked for ice water instead. The second shot went down smoother. Probably because his insides were already scorched so they were numb to the additional shot.
He fished his wallet out and paid for them before going back to his table. The tacos were sitting there, along with bottles of beer.
“Where’d you go?” Malik asked as he fed Emilio pieces of taco.
Emilio was damn near sitting on Malik’s lap, and Lenox was snuggled up to Darren like he was one of Darren’s appendages. It seemed his trip to the bar hadn’t made things easier.
“Just making rounds,” Roy lied.
“Any prospects?” Darren asked.
If only. “Nothing so far. I’m gonna head back into the crowd.”
Darren and Malik were engrossed in their boyfriends, giving Roy a wave. So much for hanging out with the cool guys. Roy ignored the food and drinks as he went back to the bar.
That was it. He was gonna get wasted and find someone to go home with. He was sick and tired of being alone. Sick and tired of feeling like the odd man out.
When Roy snagged an empty stool, he raised his hand. But it wasn’t Armand who came his way. Roy swallowed roughly as he stared up at a new bartender.
The guy looked intimidating, with tattoos on his left arm and all over his neck. He had icy blue eyes that said for everyone to fuck off.
And he was the sexiest man Roy had ever seen.
“What can I get you?” The guy’s question wasn’t asked in a friendly manner, but it wasn’t acerbic either.
Roy opened his mouth then closed it. He tried again, but words failed him. If he thought Malik and Darren were strong, powerful men, they had nothing on this guy. The bartender could probably get a confession out of a perp with a single glare.
A shot of burning lust coursed through Roy as he stared at the guy like a true idiot. He was sure the bartender got plenty of attention, and Roy was just another drooling moron in a long line of drooling morons.
Roy’s gaze swept from the man’s amazing eyes, to his hard jaw that had a thin line of stubble shadowing it, to his muscled chest and arms, down to his rigid abs.
“Any day now,” the guy said.
“A shot of whiskey.” Roy finally got his brain to reboot. He was also hard as hell. His jeans felt a bit tighter as the bartender poured his shot.
When Roy reached for it, their hands touched. It felt as though a live wire had brushed his skin. Roy snatched his hand back as the bartender’s eyebrows shot to his hairline.
He leaned across the bar and sniffed at Roy, and Roy didn’t pull back. He didn’t dare move. Everything around him faded as the bartender leaned back.
Roy’s heart pounded as he knocked back the shot. He would never be so lucky as to go home with this man, but a guy could dream.
He set his glass down. “Keep them coming.”
Chapter Two
Never again would Roy drink like that. His head was splitting in half, and his body felt as if a hundred semis had taken turns running him over. He couldn’t even recall how he’d gotten home last night.
Roy pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and groaned. Why had he done all those shots? He wasn’t a drinker. Nothing past two bottles of beer he always nursed.
Then he remembered the reason. Loneliness and trying to prove he could drink just like any other man in the bar. But mainly loneliness.
His head snapped up, and Roy instantly regretted the quick movement when a sharp pain lanced through his skull. Coffee. Why did he smell coffee brewing?
He didn’t have one of those machines that you could set to brew at a certain time. Roy owned the most basic of coffeemakers.
Uncertain why he smelled the heavenly aroma, he slipped from his bed and padded to the hallway. He used the wall to steady himself when everything swayed. Had Lacey come over this morning to check on him? Did she know just how hammered he’d gotten last night?
Hell, Roy didn’t even remember stripping down to his underwear and white T-shirt. He prayed to god he hadn’t driven home in his inebriated state.
A deputy driving drunk. Sheriff Copache would have Roy’s ass, and maybe his badge. Roy stopped in the living room and looked out the front window. He didn’t see his car in the driveway. Maybe one of his coworkers had given him a ride home.
Maybe Lacey had and then spent the night.
Roy dropped onto the sofa, his investigation into the coffee situation temporarily forgotten. Had he made a fool of himself last night? The last thing Roy remembered was stammering around that sexy bartender.
Had the guy really sniffed him? Those first two shots must’ve gone to his head and he’d imagined that. But he definitely hadn’t imagined the tall, muscular hotness with ice-blue eyes and tattoos. Roy didn’t have that great of an imagination.
“Here you go.”
Roy shrieked and jumped over the back of the couch, his heart hammering so hard his chest hurt. One hand was over his chest, the other gripping his pounding head.
And standing by the coffee table was the hot bartender. He still had on his tight blue T-shirt and nicely hugging jeans, but his feet were bare, and the short strands of his hair seemed disheveled.
“What-what are you doing here?” Roy swallowed. “In my house? In my living room?”
And why aren’t you naked so I can feast my eyes on you?
The guy set the two mugs on the coffee table, and Roy watched as his muscles flexed.
The stranger’s lips curved into a sensual smile. “You don’t remember last night?”
Roy shook his head, keeping his distance. The guy was hot, but he also screamed danger.
“I’m Calhoun.” He didn’t bother to extend his hand. “You were three sheets to the wind. I didn’t want you driving home, so when it was closing time, I drove you here.”
“But how did you know where I lived?”
Calhoun sat and took a sip of his coffee. “Well, that part wasn’t so easy. When I asked for your address, you told me your house had a mailbox and a front yard. After driving around town for an hour, you finally spotted your house and grabbed my arm so hard we nearly drove off the road.”
Roy hung his head in embarrassment. If his mom knew how drunk he’d gotten, she’d tan his hide. Late one Friday night, his dad had pulled someone over for speeding. In the blink of an eye, a drunk driver had plowed into the vehicle, killing his father and the driver of that car.
A tinge of guilt ate at him as he peeled himself away from the wall and took a seat next to Calhoun. The guy was so big that the middle cushion dipped low, almost making Roy roll into his body.
“Thank you for looking out for me.” He stuck his hand out. “I’m Deputy Roy Benton.”
The curved smile on Calhoun’s face grew. “A cop.”
Calhoun shook his hand. “And not a very good one considering how irresponsible I acted last night.”
“You acted just fine.” Calhoun pulled his hand away, and Roy instantly missed the heat. “You were a little excitable, and laughed a lot, but you didn’t act in any way that was unbecoming of your career choice.”
Which meant they
hadn’t had wild, passionate sex on every flat surface of his home. Thank goodness. When Roy lost his V card, he wanted to remember every detail, not try to piece together his night.
Roy sniffed. “Are you cooking something?”
“Shit.” Calhoun got up and hurried to the kitchen. Moments later he returned with a plate of dry toast. “I thought this might help you.”
Roy wasn’t going to have a fit that a stranger had made himself at home. After all, Calhoun had done him a huge favor.
“Thanks.” He set the plate aside. He didn’t think his stomach could handle any food right now. “And thanks for last night.”
Calhoun nodded then cocked his head to the side, his blue eyes, which didn’t seem so icy anymore, studied him. “Can I ask why you got so drunk?”
Because I’m one level away from being a loser.
“I just wanted to unwind after a long day at work.” He picked his mug up and sipped his coffee. He usually liked a little cream and sugar to combat the bitterness, but right now, he didn’t have the strength to get up and add those ingredients.
“It must have been one hell of a day.” Calhoun picked up a slice and held it to Roy’s lips. He had no idea why he opened his mouth and took a bite. “You need something on your stomach.”
As soon as Roy swallowed, he dropped his mug on the coffee table and raced for the bathroom, Calhoun’s thundering steps right behind him. Roy dropped to his knees and emptied every last shot into the toilet.
His head pounded harder. His stomach strained and jerked. He felt his entire body convulse as a cold, wet rag drew across his forehead then settled on his nape.
“Get it all out.”
The smell made Roy gag, and soon all he had left to give was stomach acid.
He heard the faucet turn on, then another rag glided over his mouth. Calhoun flushed the toilet as Roy sagged to the floor, uncaring that his breath smelled like hell.
Calhoun scooped Roy up and took him to his bedroom, laying him gently on the bed. “I’ll get you some water. Maybe you weren’t ready for coffee and toast.”
Roy moaned and slammed his eyes closed.
When he opened them, he could tell by the shadows in his room that a significant amount of time had passed. His head wasn’t splitting in half, and although his stomach felt soar, he no longer had an urge to throw up.
The bedroom door opened, and Calhoun walked in, a glass of water in his hand. “You need to hydrate and flush the alcohol out of your system.” He set the glass on the nightstand and helped Roy sit up enough to swallow two aspirin and wash them down.
Then Calhoun lowered him back to the bed.
When Roy woke up again, his headache was gone and his body no longer hurt. He was tired but not enough to fall back to sleep. This time it wasn’t coffee he smelled.
It was food.
And Roy’s stomach pitched a fit as he climbed out of bed, grumbling so loudly that the noise should’ve woken the dead.
Before he left his bedroom, Roy slipped on a pair of jogging pants and made his way to the bathroom. He emptied his bladder then brushed his teeth, using mouthwash to kill the taste of a rodent dying inside his mouth.
He looked at himself in the mirror and grimaced. He was paler than normal, and his eyes were bloodshot. He grabbed a comb and tried to tame his hair, but the strands wouldn’t go down.
After giving up, he padded to the kitchen to find Calhoun at the stove. Roy studied his strong back, Calhoun’s black T-shirt gone. The lines and muscles had Roy’s pants tenting. Calhoun’s back narrowed into a tapered waist, his nicely fitting jeans still hugging his gorgeous ass.
“How’re you feeling now?” Calhoun asked without turning around. The question startled Roy since he didn’t think the guy was aware of his presence.
“Like I crawled out of a grave and had new life pumped into me.”
“The aspirins helped, but I came in about every twenty minutes so you could drink some water.”
No wonder Roy had woken to a full bladder. “Thanks again for everything.”
Now that Roy had a clearer head, he wondered why Calhoun had stuck around. The guy was an astronomical ten while Roy was hovering around a four or five. Men like Calhoun never paid any attention to guys like Roy.
When Calhoun turned, Roy damn near swallowed his tongue. Hot, hunky, gorgeous, breathtaking, none of those did this guy justice. Calhoun was a god.
His pecs were swollen with muscles, his biceps the size of grapefruits. And those tattoos. Fuck. The skulls made Calhoun seem even more intimidating as he brought two bowls to the table.
Beans and cut up hotdogs.
“Sorry, you didn’t have much to work with.” Calhoun took a seat at the table. “I’m hoping you can hold that down.”
Roy took a bite, and his eyes rolled to the back of his skull. “I didn’t know generic beans tasted so good.”
Calhoun winked, which made Roy blush. “I might’ve added a few things to them to help with the flavor.”
His hunger kicked in, and Roy ate all his food, wishing he had more. As if reading his mind, Calhoun took Roy’s bowl to the stove and gave him another heaping amount.
This time Roy ate slower as he kept stealing glances at Calhoun. “I don’t mean to seem unappreciative that some stranger brought me home and nursed me back to health, but why did you stick around?”
Calhoun looked down at his bowl as he chewed. “I should’ve added a touch more brown sugar.”
Roy wasn’t the assertive type. That was part of his problem at work. He allowed a lot of people to walk over him or easily dismiss him. As much as he loved his mother, Roy wished to god, and not for the first time, that he’d been built like his father.
James Benton had been close to six feet three inches of pure muscle. No one had ever dismissed Roy’s father. But his dad had been a gentle soul, must like Moose was. They never used their large build to throw their weight around.
His dad used to always tell Roy that size didn’t matter and that he was proud of his children. It didn’t matter to him that his only son was a beanpole and lacked his height. His dad had loved him unconditionally.
God, he missed his father.
“You were wasted, and I didn’t want anyone to take advantage of you.”
Roy blinked his thoughts away. “What makes you think I don’t want to be taken advantage of?”
Calhoun’s eyes turned icy, like they’d been last night. “You wanted some random to take you home and fuck your brains out? Do you know how dangerous that is?”
The guy’s voice vibrated with anger.
Roy pushed his bowl aside. “Again, I appreciate what you did for me, but I think it’s time you left.”
“Because I was concerned for you?”
“Because I don’t know you, and you have no right to preach to me about what I can and can’t do.” Roy took his bowl to the sink.
“You’re right.” Calhoun joined him, placing his own bowl with Roy’s. “But I’ve seen the ugly of the world, those who have no qualms about hurting a trusting and vulnerable guy like you.”
“I’m not vulnerable!” Roy glared at Calhoun as he tried to puff his chest out, to make himself seem intimidating. “I’m a Maple Grove deputy, and…and…that means I command respect.”
“Not when you’re that wasted,” Calhoun said as his eyes narrowed. “It doesn’t matter who you are or what you command when you’re that fucking drunk. Anyone could’ve gotten you into their car and not only forced you to have sex but done other, more vile things to you.”
Roy’s anger deflated as he looked up at Calhoun. “Did that…did that happen to you?”
Calhoun grabbed the pot from the stove and started washing dishes. “No, but like I said, I’ve seen what awaits trusting fools in the darkness.” He turned and stared down at Roy. “Promise me you won’t do that again. Promise me you won’t leave yourself that vulnerable.”
Roy started to protest, to tell Calhoun to mind his own damn business, but he co
uld tell that Calhoun really needed to hear those words, was desperate for them.
“Okay, I give you my word I won’t get that wasted again.”
That seemed to settle something in Calhoun’s eyes. He nodded and went back to washing the dishes.
Roy should be delighted that he had a sex god in his home, let alone taking care of him, but…why was Calhoun still there? He’d never really answered Roy’s question.
Roy grabbed the clean dishes and dried them before putting them back in the cupboard. When they were done, Calhoun coaxed Roy to the sofa and made him sit.
They watched a movie together, and Roy wasn’t even sure what movie, as he kept stealing glances at Calhoun. The guy was a complete enigma, a puzzle Roy couldn’t figure out.
Calhoun didn’t even try to make a move on Roy. It was as if they were old friends who were enjoying each other’s company.
And oh how Roy wanted Calhoun to make a move on him. He couldn’t stop staring at the guy’s massive amounts of muscles or studying his tattoo sleeve. Roy had considered getting a tattoo once, because he felt it was the macho thing to do.
But the sound of the needle when the device was clicked on had scared him so badly that Roy had run from the shop, not even stopping long enough to get his money back.
“I noticed a few loose cupboard doors and the linoleum peeling in some spots.”
Calhoun’s statement threw Roy. “Huh?”
“I’m pretty handy with tools. I could tighten the cupboard doors and replace the flooring.”
Roy didn’t have that kind of money to spend, though he hadn’t the first clue how much new flooring would cost. “Thanks, I’ll think about it.”
Right now the only thing Roy was thinking about was getting Calhoun to either leave or take him to bed.
* * * *
Calhoun had no idea why he was offering to renovate his mate’s kitchen. Maybe because he was still reeling from the fact that fate hadn’t fucked him over, that he’d actually had a mate who was made just for him.
And that thought scared the hell out of Calhoun. He had a psychotic vampire after him, and he still woke from nightmares. That was one reason why Calhoun hadn’t slept a wink since bringing Roy home.
