Lie With Me (Stonewall Investigations Miami Book 2)

by Max Walker

  “Fucking open!”

  The door shook against the pounding. I readied myself. From looking through the peephole, Juan wasn’t carrying a weapon, but his baggy white T-shirt was enough to hide something.

  I steadied my hand and opened the door.

  “You fuckin’ bitch.”

  Juan came at me at a hundred. He started to push against my chest, pushing himself into Oliver’s apartment in the process. I hit his arm away with my forearm. I grabbed the other arm and twisted it. Back in Mario’s apartment, Juan had caught me by surprise and gotten the upper hand, but not this time. I was ready for him this time. And I was being fueled by Oliver’s realization.

  This man was responsible for tearing Oliver’s heart apart.

  I was going to be responsible for tearing out his.

  With all my force, I pushed us back into the hallway. Juan wasn’t expecting it. He went backward like a rag doll. His back slammed against the wall. He gasped in a way that told me all the air in his lungs had been squeezed out. I took that as a chance to grab him by the collar of his shirt. I lifted him, pressing him hard against the wall. He was grabbing at my forearms, kicking at my knees, but the guy couldn’t break a stick if he tried. It was when he was armed that the coward was dangerous. Now, he had the same threat level as a fly.

  “Stay away from here.” I spoke with force, each of my words wielded like a blunt weapon.

  “Let—let go.” He was sputtering, the shirt tightening around his throat.

  “If I see your face around Oliver, I swear to Christ you’ll be beaten so bad you won’t be able to open your eyes.”

  I didn’t know what had come over me. A curtain of crimson. I could feel the anger boiling through my veins. Never had I felt this type of raw, frightening anger.

  “Yes, yes.” His eyes were bulging. I dropped him. Juan crumpled like a broken toy, holding his neck and falling onto the floor, gasping for breath.

  I didn’t move. I didn’t bother to help him back up. I just stood there and waited. He finally managed to get up, his legs shaking, his eyes red. He stared at me with a darkness that would have affected me on any other day.

  Not today. I stared him down without blinking a motherfucking eye.

  I wanted so badly to beat him to a bloody pulp. He had taken Derrick’s life. He was one of the two who had changed Oliver’s life forever.

  But I knew I needed more to bring him in. The cops wouldn’t arrest Juan off his voice alone. I had to find some kind of footage from that night, some other piece of undeniable proof that put him in that alley. And then I needed to figure out the second piece of the puzzle. Who the hell was Juan with? Was it his brother?

  “Fuck this.” Juan coughed and started down the hall. “You’ll regret this shit, puta!”

  Sirens started to sound from far off, the wails cutting through the night. Without missing a beat, Juan took off running.

  “Hey! Stop!”

  I went to give chase, but a hand on my elbow stopped me. “Wait, Beck, don’t. Please.”

  It was Oliver.

  “Let the cops look for him. I can’t… not again. Just please. Please.”

  Oliver’s entire body shook. I couldn’t leave this spot, I knew that. If I left Oliver, he’d crumble.

  I held him and helped him back into his place.

  “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I led him here.”

  “It’s okay. It’s okay.” Oliver’s hands trembled in mine. “I’m glad you did. It’s confirmation.”

  Just then, the door to the bathroom opened. I jumped, ready to fight. Will walked out, looking as pale and scared as Oliver.

  “I heard all of that. Everything okay?”

  Oliver shook his head. He tried saying no but squeaked instead.

  Will came over and hugged Oliver. I could see the friendship between them, the camaraderie that stretched back for years. Will took a step back and took us both in.

  “Keep him safe, all right?” He spoke directly to me.

  I nodded. I understood where his defensive came from. Oliver was precious to every person he connected with. Will was just looking out for him.

  “All right, I really need to get out of here.” Oliver shook his shoulders and wiped at his cheeks. “Beck, can I stay over your place tonight?”

  “Of course,” I said. Will, still looking a little shaken, turned to collect his stuff off the nearby table, his pockets jingling with keys as he walked, catching the cats’ attention as they slinked out of Oliver’s bedroom now that the coast was clear.

  As soon as Oliver filled up Mason and Jar’s water dishes and food bowls, we took off, Will leaving with us. We said our goodbyes in the car park. I offered Will a ride, but he said he wanted to walk, that he needed the fresh air.

  The drive home was quiet. I let Oliver sit in his thoughts, and he let me do the same. The entire time, his hand was in my lap, my fingers twined through his.

  When we pulled into the driveway, Oliver asked the first question. “So what next?”

  “I keep digging, that’s what’s next.”

  Oliver’s head dropped back against the headrest. “I can’t believe he was inside my apartment. I can’t believe it.”

  “He wasn’t in there for as long as he’s going to be in a jail cell.”

  “Can they arrest him? I know it was him. I’m a hundred percent sure he was there. I know that voice.”

  I didn’t want to take the wind from Oliver’s sails, but he had to hear the truth. “It’s still not enough. I need more before I go to the police. I need evidence. Solid, undeniable evidence.”

  Oliver shook his head and looked out the window. My driveway light was flooding the space in bright white light, shining down on the row of bushes that lined the path up to my front door.

  “Do you think it was Juan and Mario? Or Juan and someone else…”

  The question had been bothering me since I considered it. Truthfully, I didn’t have enough evidence to point me directly toward Mario, but just by association, he appeared guilty.

  “You need more evidence?” Oliver said, answering his own question. “Jesus, Mary, and Mariah fucking Carey. I need to meditate or something.”

  Maybe the time didn’t exactly call for it, but I couldn’t help it. I laughed. The sound echoed in the car as if it had turned into a cavernous space.

  Oliver laughed, too. An exhausted type of laugh, but a laugh all the same.

  “Seriously, though. I do. My head’s spinning out of control.”

  “Aren’t there things you can download on your phone for that?”

  Oliver shot me a look. “Yes, there are apps for that, but I need the real stuff. Will used to bring me to this secluded spot at the Port of Authority, right behind cargo bay seven. It’s a small offshoot of the port, and it’s surrounded by tall reeds with a tiny office that’s never used by anyone. You see the entire bay and feel like all of Miami is gone. And it’s such a different vibe than the beach, too. Like, you can meditate for hours there.”

  “You’ll have to take me there, then. I’ve never been one for meditating, but I’m up for trying.”

  “I’d like that.” Oliver closed his eyes. “I used to go there a lot after losing Derrick. Sometimes I’d just read until I fell asleep; other times I’d actually meditate. I’d feel better every single time.”

  “Then we’ll go for sure.”

  Oliver smiled, eyes still closed.

  “What got you into this detective work, Beck? Into chasing down thugs and rescuing little princesses like me.”

  “I got into it for the princesses of course.”

  Oliver opened his eyes and looked to me. I shot him a wink. “It was a friend of mine who got me started. He had an agency and offered to sponsor my stay in the States by working for him. He taught me everything I knew, and he passed on his love for investigating to me. I was twenty-three when he hired me, I think. The youngest detective in all of Miami, and soon enough, I was also the one closing the most cases.”


  “I believe that.”

  “It was exactly what I needed in my life. Before Gio took me under his wing, I was floating around aimlessly. Fucking guys in bathroom stalls and dodgy hiking trails, just wanting to pass the time somehow. I didn’t really have a purpose.”

  “I’m glad you found it. And I’m glad your purpose is to help so many other people.” Oliver’s fingers danced up and down my arm, sending warm chills down my back.

  I closed the distance between us and found his lips with mine. We kissed, long enough for the driveway light to click off, plunging us into the dark. An undeniable heat was building between my legs, my dick twitching in response.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s go inside. I need to get washed up. Can’t believe I’m still wearing my kickball uniform.”

  “I love it,” Oliver said as we got out of the car. He gave me a cheeky little slap on the ass when we got to my front door.

  My dick twitched even harder.

  Inside my place, I could barely wait to get my lips back on his. I kissed him, hard, pressing him back against the closed door. I held his head in both my hands as my tongue probed his mouth, claiming it for myself.

  My cock gave a hard throb between us.

  “All right, get comfortable. I’m going to take a quick shower.”

  Oliver, looking only a little disappointed and very turned on, went over to the large chair next to the couch, sitting down and covering the bold stripes of blue, pink, and white.

  I left him there and hurried to the bathroom where I took one of the quickest showers of my life, focusing on all the important bits and hopping back out in record time. I wrapped the white towel around my waist and glanced in the mirror.

  For a man turned freshly forty, I had to say, I looked bloody good. My chest and shoulders were defined with muscle, and my stomach was toned in a way that almost hinted at a six-pack if I were standing exactly right under the light. My cock, hanging heavy between my legs, was clearly visible, outlined through the towel.

  I ran a hand through my hair, messing it up a bit, and stepped out into the hall.

  Oliver was sitting in the chair when I reentered the living room. He looked so relaxed, scrolling through his phone with one leg up on the chair, one hand behind his head. He wore shades of blue which worked to make his eyes pop like diamonds on display. I shot him a glance with a smile attached and walked toward the kitchen to grab some water. That’s when I spotted something that piqued my interest.

  And piqued something else along with it.

  “Your zipper’s open,” I noted, my eyes dropping to the glint of gold coming from his crotch. My blood shot up in temperature.

  “Oh?” Oliver, that cheeky bastard, looked down and, with a devilish grin, slipped his hand through the opening. “I didn’t notice.” He looked up at me, lips parting ever so slightly. Enough for me to imagine my tongue slipping in.

  I didn’t want to imagine it for much longer. I went to him and bent down, grabbing his head in my hands and claiming his mouth with a kiss that rocked the very ground beneath me.

  I gasped, as did he.

  I moved a hand down to his crotch, feeling him as he stroked himself underneath the fabric of his shorts. His heat radiated off him. He squeezed his legs together, moaning into my kiss as he pushed his hips up, rubbing himself harder on my hand.

  The kiss broke. I moved back, Oliver still sitting on my chair, one leg up on the seat, his hand jerking slowly inside his shorts. His other hand was resting on his neck, which was growing pink from the fire that pricked at his skin from the inside. The same fire that crawled through my veins as I watched him.

  “Take those shorts off. I want to watch you jerk off.”

  Oliver didn’t need any more direction. He cocked his head, smiling, and unbuttoned the shorts. He pulled them off, revealing a pair of white Calvins that looked as if they were about to split apart. His tip leaked, soaking the fabric and causing a dark and delicious stain to spread.

  He massaged his length. It was hypnotic. I could watch him do this all night and still want more.

  I stood there, watching as Oliver dropped his head back and hooked his fingers under the waistband of his briefs. He pulled them over and off, his hard cock falling out and slapping against his stomach, the sound filling the room and driving me wild.

  “How in the world did I get so fuckin’ lucky.” I had to say it. Standing there, staring at Oliver’s thick and leaking cock, it did something to me. Made me crazy.

  Oliver answered by licking his lips and taking off his shirt. He sat back in the chair, legs spread wide, thighs looking like a proper throne. I wanted to sit on him. I wanted to take him inside me. I’d never liked bottoming before, but with Oliver my body was practically shouting out for it. I could feel myself quivering, a pounding need making me focus on new parts of my body that I typically ignored.

  Oliver started to stroke, slowly. He played with his balls in one hand, and with the other, he traveled the length of his cock, inch by sexy inch. When he reached the tip, he thumbed over himself, raising his thumb and showing the clear rope of precome he then spread over himself, causing his cock to glisten, the sound of wet skin working to fan the flames of need. He did it again, but this time, once he was slick with precome, he lifted it up to his lips and rubbed before putting it in his mouth and sucking, his eyes half-lidded, a devilish smirk on his face.

  I let out a hiss of air. “Fuckin’ hell.”

  He worked himself for me, keeping his eyes locked on me as his strokes became faster. My dick throbbed hard underneath the towel, which was beginning to look like a small shelter for gnomes with how big of a tent I made.

  It caught Oliver’s eye. He stopped and nodded toward my crotch, the devilish grin making itself a permanent resident on his face.

  I didn’t need words. I opened the towel and dropped it in a puddle on the floor. My cock bounced free, jutting out from me, half-hooded and leaking for my man. Oliver’s eyes widened as he followed my swinging cock, a hand returning to his.

  His other hand moved from his balls, slipping down between his legs. He started to grind on himself, his eyes rolling back.

  “Lift up your legs. I want to see you play with your ass.”

  Oliver looked at me, those big eyes of his burning like hot coals. He scooched back in the chair so that his ass was almost hanging off it. Then, in something that was pulled straight out of my wettest dream, Oliver put both arms under both legs and lifted, exposing himself to me.

  His hole pulsed with his breaths. He rubbed his fingers over himself, playing with his hole.

  Something had come over me. I needed to have him. I went to him, my cock swinging like a bat as I walked. He looked up at me with big fawn-like eyes, the blue in them feeling like one of those infinity pools that I wanted to dive headfirst into.

  I started to drop down to my knees. Oliver still held his legs up, exposing himself. My hands glided over his. I took hold of his legs as I got onto my knees, his ass ready to eat.

  I went in, licking his balls first, getting him used to the sensation as my tongue flicked downward, over his sensitive hole. He gasped and jolted like I’d just spanked him.

  “Oh, Beck, that’s… whoa. Do it again.”

  I dragged my tongue down, back over his hole. He jerked up again, moaning this time.

  “Keep going, Beck. Please.”

  Every time Oliver said “please” to me, it felt like hitting the turbo button on a race car. It did something to me that I couldn’t explain.

  I swirled my tongue around his tight hole, before I spat down into it, getting it dripping wet. And then I stuffed my face with him, swirling and sucking and tonguing. Oliver couldn’t sit still as moans were ripped from his chest. He was white-knuckling my chair as I continued to eat him out. I started having a difficult time holding his legs up with all his movement.

  I slipped my tongue in and he almost shot off the chair. I looked up, past his hard cock, and locked eyes with a d
izzy-looking Oliver. He had a couple of drops of sweat beading across his forehead.

  “Don’t stop” was all he said, and it was all I needed.

  I probed again with my tongue, opening him and sending him straight to the stratosphere. His legs fell from my hands and landed on my shoulders. He squeezed his calves around my head as I came up for a breath.

  “Fuck, Oliver.”

  Forget about bottoming tonight. I had to have Oliver. I needed to sink into him. I could feel how ready he was, how willing he was. I could tell his body wanted it as badly as mine.

  “I want to fuck you.” I kissed his leg, nibbled on the skin.

  “Yes, Beck, yes. Fuck me. Please, put it in. I want to feel you inside me.”

  I stood, bending my knees so that I could line myself up with Oliver. My cock pulsed in the air as I held on to my base, pressing my head against Oliver’s opening. I spat, rubbing the saliva over my cock.

  Oliver and I had already gotten tested and talked about condomless sex. I pressed myself against him, feeling his tight ring opening to receive me. He took in a deep breath as I pushed in harder, stretching him. His heat encapsulated me. It made my very neurons melt in pleasure and ecstasy.

  He was silky soft and so fucking tight. I rocked my hips forward, teasing him with only half of me. He pushed back, pleading without any words, using only his body. I could feel him tighten around me, pulling me in deeper.

  I pulled out, my head coming out with a pop. Oliver groaned loudly, his back arched even more, his ass opening for me.

  I plunged in again, this time sinking myself in to the balls. Oliver’s shout filled my living room. For a second I feared I had hurt him, but the bliss-filled moan that quickly followed told me he was good.

  Then, he told me himself: “Fuck me. Fuck me hard, Beckham.”

  I placed a hand on his lower back, and I started to rock into him, fucking him without abandon. Our loud grunts and animal-like sounds were competing with the sound of skin slapping against skin. His entire body felt like putty underneath me. He was holding on to the arms of the chair, his head down into the seat, his ass working my cock like a bucking bull. I leaned back and let him bounce on it, watching myself slide in and out of his hole, his ass cheeks clapping against me.