Training-Ryan

by Throne-Tatum-

  If I win, you give me complete control of what happens next. I want to teach you to be my sub.

  The corners of Ryan’s mouth lifted as he thought about losing on purpose. Trent’s gaze lowered to Ryan’s lips. “Deal.”

  Ryan handed Trent his darts and then went first, tossing his darts one at a time. Ryan stepped back as Trent took his turn, beating Ryan easily. Trent grinned. Ryan knew this thing would be more than just submissive training with Trent.

  “Best three out of five?” Trent asked.

  “Sounds good,” Ryan said as he signed.

  They played five more rounds with Ryan losing terribly. At midnight, they cleared out, heading back to Camp Tack. After just one beer, Ryan was thinking clearly as he headed into the cabin he shared with Trent. Ryan was searching through his bag for his pajama pants and T-shirt when he looked through the bunks, seeing Trent pull his shirt over his head. Ryan’s mouth went dry as he saw the muscles in Trent’s back ripple and his jeans go south. He wanted this week to be over. He wanted time alone with Trent to explore all the feelings he’d been denying himself for so long. Ryan wanted Trent to force him up against the wall and spread his legs wide. He wanted his balls to swing as Trent spanked him hard. Ryan’s cock flexed, punching up against the fly of his jeans with a bad attitude.

  Ryan looked away. He couldn’t torture himself like this. Trent walked around the bunks and whistled to get Ryan’s attention. Ryan couldn’t look at him when he was feeling so sexually twisted up. Trent came in close, brushing the back of his fingers over his cheek. Ryan closed his eyes and took a steadying breath that didn’t make him feel steady at all. Trent slipped his hand over the back of his neck, pulling Ryan in close.

  Their eyes met before their lips connected passionately. Ryan lost himself in the soft movement of his lover’s lips. He wrapped his arms around Trent’s waist, pulling him in tight. Trent pulled back. Ryan was breathing hard. He knew they had to be careful, and they weren’t.

  “Not here. We could get caught,” Trent whispered.

  Ryan felt all the air leave him as he leaned back against the wall. He watched Trent pace around the cabin. In less than twelve hours, they’d be going back to their separate lives. They’d maybe see each other during SWAT missions. Trent kept his walk back and forth. It was like he wanted to say something more.

  “It’s okay,” Ryan signed.

  “It’s not okay. We need…”

  Trent shook his head and crossed the room, taking Ryan’s face in his hands and kissing Ryan hard. Their eyes met. Trent put his forehead against Ryan’s. It was then Ryan knew that life would keep getting in the way. There was no way they could be together. Their lives were too complicated. Most of all, Ryan was thinking about the humanitarian trips abroad he took twice a year. He wanted to take Trent with him when he went to Peru and Costa Rica. He wanted a life that included his lover. Was Trent that person?

  Trent pulled away physically and emotionally. Things were starting to feel over before they even began. Ryan knew that this was good-bye, and he didn’t like it at all.

  “We don’t have to figure this out now,” Trent signed. “Okay?”

  “No we don’t,” Ryan said as he signed.

  Ryan already missed the sweet, erotic sound of his voice.

  Chapter Eight

  Trent sat across from detective Seth London in Seth’s office. There were awards and his diploma on the wall behind him glaring back. No personal pictures of anyone were in his office. Cole was hanging off to the side by the wall, acting as interpreter. Cole still wasn’t happy with him and was driving his point home by making him use his voice today. When Trent had signed at the beginning of their meeting, Cole stabbed his two fingers into his neck to tell him to use his fucking voice and then crossed his arms. So here they were. He was being forced to use his voice at work when he wanted to be a pussy about it.

  Seth ran a hand through his red hair in frustration. “I want you on RAT,” Seth said.

  Cole signed what Seth said.

  Trent tried to pick his jaw up off the carpeted floor, but he was having a rough time of it. Right now he was catching flies, as his grandmother used to say. He couldn’t say he saw this one coming at all.

  “Well?” Seth asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Trent said.

  “You’d go up in pay grade.”

  Trent read what Cole signed. “I can’t be bought.”

  “It will get you back into the field, where you and I both know you belong.”

  Trent glowered at Cole as he read his hands, but the face was meant for Seth. That was a low blow. “I like what I’m doing now.”

  Seth sat forward, clasping his hands. He wasn’t bad looking for a redhead, but he just wasn’t Trent’s type. There was too much alpha in him. He wouldn’t be a good sub. “Training civilians?”

  Cole’s hands and face dripped with sarcasm. “I’d rather be training inmates than working with the Risk Assessment Team,” Trent said.

  By the look on Seth’s face, Trent could see that he drove his point home with the annunciation of his voice. The corner of Cole’s mouth ticked up.

  “I could use someone with your background to act as a liaison between RAT and SWAT.”

  Trent shook his head as he read Cole’s signs. “Not a good fit for me.”

  Frustration had Seth leaning back in his chair. “Okay, then. Can you think of anyone within the department who might be interested?”

  Trent started to raise his hands to sign. Cole shook his head and stuck those two V’d fingers into his neck. Trent had the urge to break his hand, but knew it wouldn’t help things. “Your best bet would be to go outside the department.”

  “Why is it the SWAT guys don’t like RAT?” Seth asked.

  Trent glanced from Cole to Seth. “No one likes a Monday morning quarterback telling them their plays stink. Thanks for the invite, but I have to pass.”

  “No hard feelings.”

  Trent stood. Cole headed out of the office first. The only thing that was on Trent’s mind was Ryan. His dark hair. His sensual smile. Those bedroom eyes that made Trent want to go to work on him for hours and hours. He wanted to see him tonight. Well, not just see him, Trent thought. There would be a lot of touching, sucking, kissing, and fucking if Trent had his way with Ryan. Trent wondered if he was working or if he was sitting at home with nothing to do. Either way, Trent wanted to find out before he left work.

  Out in the hallway, something caught Cole’s attention. Fear made Cole’s eyes go wide. Trent zeroed in on the commotion down the long hallway. Lt. Evans lost control of her suspect. Chief Anderson jumped in to help. Her gun was grabbed by the idiot trying to get away. Evans took the suspect down, but not before a shot was fired. Trent shoved Cole out of the way.

  The bullet ripped through Trent’s shoulder, spinning him around and sending him flying back against the wall. Glass shattered over Trent’s head, raining down upon him. A second shot was fired. Blood seeped down his arm. This was not good. Pain ricocheted through his shoulder before everything went numb. Chaos erupted through the hall. Cole hunched down, putting pressure on his shoulder.

  Their eyes met. By the look on Cole’s pale face, Trent knew things were bad. Life without Ryan flashed through Trent’s mind. Years of lazy Saturday mornings gone, long romantic dinners vanished, and the chance of kissing Ryan one last time seemed like it was so far away that it was untouchable. Trent felt dizzy and unable to focus. The smell of blood did that to him. He didn’t want things to end before they ever began. He wanted a chance to love Ryan. His eyes grew heavy. He wanted the chance.

  * * * * Parker looked happy. Love did that to a person. It also made them temporarily insane and unable to make rational decisions. Being in love was not the time to commit to anything like buying a house or moving in. Ryan was not a fan of moving in with a lover. The everyday ruined the excitement of things. Ryan and Parker were in their flight suits, waiting for the next call to come in through the emergency room
. They stood in the triage room. Their patient was sleeping on the gurney between them. The bed sore on the elderly woman’s leg was a case of neglect.

  “This looks infected,” Ryan said.

  “Looks like it,” Parker agreed.

  Ryan frowned. “Where’d she come in from?”

  “That nursing home on the west side.”

  Ryan got to work on cleaning the wound. Some days it was all the

  same, treat and repeat. “They should shut that place down. It’s a death trap.” “They won’t,” Parker said as he passed gauze pads over. “Are you coming to the wedding?”

  “I wanted to. You guys set the date?”

  “We’re still working it out. I have some family that wants to come in from Boston,” Parker said.

  “Are you registered anywhere?”

  “Not yet. I put TJ in charge of that.”

  Ryan hesitated over asking the next question, but he had to know. “How’s living together going?”

  The corners of Parker’s mouth lifted. Secrets flashed through his eyes. “It’s fun.” Parker glanced up from his work on their patient’s other leg. “Haven’t you ever lived with anyone before?”

  “Never have. Never want to.”

  “When you find the right person, you’ll want to, trust me.”

  Thoughts of Trent flashed through his mind. Was he the right person? Ryan pictured sunlight streaming through the windows of his apartment while they cuddled on the couch. A shiver vibrated down his spine. Ryan knew those lazy days would never happen. A pang of sadness made him feel suddenly very alone and irrationally scared.

  Ryan finished cleaning the wound and covering it up. He snapped off his gloves and went to wash his hands. “Where are you going for the honeymoon?” Ryan asked.

  “A bed and breakfast in Maine.”

  Another overwhelming sense of sadness and loss took hold of Ryan. He couldn’t shake the feeling. He looked down into the water as tears misted his eyes. Why was he so heartbroken? “Nice.”

  Long shifts had a way of catching up with Ryan and making him feel like last week’s leftovers sitting in the fridge. The emergency room was quiet. Not that anyone was talking about it. No one dared used the Q word without invoking the curse that came with emergency rooms. Ryan charted on the computer as he kept replaying the moment he left Trent at the camp. There were no promises to call, no promises of anything. Things were left in lover’s limbo. Ryan thought about texting Trent, but every time he picked up his cell phone, he lost his nerve.

  Voices carried down the hallway. Two nurses were talking about how slow they were. Not good. Some things shouldn’t be discussed in an emergency room. Ryan’s beeper went off. He looked down, reading the text that came through from the field.

  Cop vs. bullet. Estimated time of arrival is five minutes.

  Ryan’s heart started pumping as he immediately thought of his new SWAT family and of Trent. There were at least three shootings a week in Cincinnati. He couldn’t jump and think the worst every time one came through the doors. Deep down he knew this time was different. This time it was a cop.

  Ryan clicked out of the computer screen, looking over at the triage corridor as the nurses got ready. The wail of the ambulance on approach carried through the emergency room awning, growing louder and louder as they pulled up next to the building. The trauma surgeon, Dr. Mathews, was swinging through the doorway just as the outer doors pushed open with the paramedics coming in with their cop on a stretcher.

  Trent.

  What the heck was he doing in the field? He was supposed to be behind the scenes and out of the line of fire.

  Blood seeped through his clothes. Ryan’s heart hit the floor and shattered as he rushed to meet the team. He was sitting up on the stretcher. Their eyes locked. He was conscious. That was a good sign.

  “What’ve we got?” Ryan asked the paramedic.

  “Gunshot wound to the upper left shoulder. There appears to be an entry and exit wound.”

  “It’s just a scratch,” Trent said.

  “Let me take a look.” Ryan moved aside the bandages. “Sarah, call interpreter services for our patient. We need a sign language interpreter.”

  “Lots of blood for just a scratch,” Ryan signed. “What happened? I didn’t think you were on the front lines anymore?”

  Trent glowered as though he didn’t like the fact that he was sidelined. “A suspect was brought in for questioning. There was a struggle between him and the arresting officer. He got the officer’s weapon. He got two shots fired before he was taken down. I got hit by one.”

  Dr. Mathews took a look. “We’re going to need some X-rays.”

  “X-rays,” Ryan said as he signed.

  Trent nodded. Staff was moved out of the trauma room as X-rays were taken. Ryan watched the computer monitor as they came out. Nothing was broken.

  “There doesn’t appear to be any major tissue damage. I think this can be closed without putting him all the way out,” Dr. Mathews said.

  “I got it,” Ryan said.

  Sarah popped her head into the trauma room. “No one from IS can get here for another twenty minutes.”

  “I’ll let the patient know,” Ryan said.

  Ryan lifted his hands to sign. “We can take care of this with stitches,” Ryan said. “No one from interpreting services can get here for another twenty minutes.”

  “It’ll be okay,” Trent said.

  Ryan didn’t want to look too closely at the fact that Trent was using his voice. He loved the sound of it. He hoped Trent wouldn’t stop using it. “Are you in a lot of pain?” Ryan asked as he signed.

  “It stings. It’s not too bad,” Trent said.

  Ryan looked as though he didn’t believe him. He slipped on gloves and got out the antiseptic to clean the wound. Trent hissed when the solution made contact.

  “We can close this with stitches,” Ryan signed.

  Ryan hit him with a local anesthetic, numbing the area. Trent winced. “Sorry,” Ryan said.

  Trent looked down at his shoulder as Ryan worked. Other scars were on his abdomen from old wounds. A black tribal tattoo of a dragon circled his left arm. Ryan pulled up the rolling stool as he eased the bed back to work. Trent was good at hiding his emotions and playing the tough guy. Or maybe it was the fact that he still had his gun and badge on his belt that made him look so irresistible.

  Bright light shined down on Trent’s wound. Ryan adjusted the light to see better. Ryan knew Trent trusted him with his body, but he wanted him to trust him completely. They’d said their goodbyes at camp with no plans to see each other. There wouldn’t be a next step if Trent kept his distance. Ryan was certain that the next move rested on his shoulders. He was suddenly desperate to have Trent again. He couldn’t let Trent go without plans to see him. This bullet had been too damn close to taking him away before they got the chance to figure things out.

  Ryan stitched the wound closed, front and back, taking more time than he needed to do the job. He covered the wound with bandages. Ryan snapped off his gloves and washed his hands. He dried them off.

  Relief poured through Ryan’s body. The situation could’ve been worse, but Trent was safe. Inside, Ryan was shaking from the near miss. The fragility of life was something that he faced every day. He couldn’t let Trent go without plans to see him again.

  “You’ll need an antibiotic. Over-the-counter pain medications should give you some relief, too,” Ryan signed and spoke. “Any allergies?”

  “No allergies.”

  Ryan knew he was stalling. “You need to wear a sling while things heal. Let me grab you one.”

  A few minutes later, Ryan returned with a sling. He helped Trent into it, working the straps over his shoulder.

  Ryan brushed the back of his fingertips up over Trent’s forearm. He couldn’t believe he almost lost Trent before they ever had a chance to start. Physical relief was replaced with an intense longing to see Trent and have some alone time with him. He wasn’t ready t
o let him go or for this to be over. Voices carried over his shoulder from staff walking by. Ryan glanced through the break in the curtain, but they kept going. He took a deep breath.

  “I want to see you,” Ryan whispered.

  Trent’s eyes dropped to Ryan’s lips, and Ryan repeated the words. “I want to see you.”

  Trent reached forward, grabbing the pen and notepad out of Ryan’s flight suit pocket. He wrote his address on the pad. He handed it back to Ryan.

  “My on-call shift is over in twenty-four hours,” Ryan signed.

  “I’m off work at seven,” Trent said.

  “You should take time off to heal,” Ryan said as he signed.

  Trent grinned. “I’d rather be at work.”

  Ryan’s heart raced as he watched his lover ease up off the gurney. He wanted to take care of Trent. He couldn’t wait to see him and to hear the beautiful sound of his voice whispered against his ear. A flash of desire flowed through his body. It was going to be a long shift.

  Chapter Nine

  Trent lived in a loft downtown. Ryan pulled up next to the building, parking on the street. It wasn’t the best area of town, but it was being revitalized. Ryan showered and changed at work in the locker room. He had a swing in his step as he rang the doorbell. Would he hear it?

  A few seconds later Trent opened the door. Shadow stood by his feet. “Hey,” Trent said.

  Ryan let his gaze travel up and down Trent. He was wearing a Tshirt and jeans. His feet were bare. Ryan noticed that he wasn’t wearing his sling like he was supposed to be. He stepped back, letting him inside. “The bell?” Ryan signed.

  “It’s linked to the light in the foyer. It blinks when you ring it.”

  “Cool. Are you resting that shoulder?” Ryan asked as he signed.

  “It’s okay. Stiff.”

  Ryan reached down to pat Shadow’s head.

  Dark-red brick made up the walls in the foyer, and old refurbished wooden floors spilled through the loft. Candles were lit in the living room, and the lights were low. A wall of glass went from the second floor to the first in the back of the loft. A small cheese wheel covered in a black ash rind sat on a cutting board on the island in the kitchen. A bottle of red wine was sitting next to the cheese. Trent opened the bottle and lifted up a wineglass. The light caught the dark, rosy liquid. Ryan took the wine and looked around the apartment. It was quiet with the low sound of the television in the living room. A Saturday night football game was on. Shadow padded off to sit in his dog bed in the living room.