by Lynn Lorenz
“Charlie, listen to me. Please.” The desperation in Devon’s voice just kicked Charlie in the gut.
He sighed and let the door close. “Okay, I’m listening.” He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the cement wall of the porch.
Devon ran his hand over his face. “Look. It’s not what you think. I’m not… I can’t tell you the truth, but I can swear to you, I don’t sell drugs. I never have and never will.” He stepped into Charlie’s space, a look of pain on his face as he cupped Charlie’s cheek. “Damn. I want to find who did this to you and….” Devon leaned forward and brushed his lips across Charlie’s.
It felt so good. Devon’s hand on his skin, his lips against Charlie’s. Christ, he wanted to believe this man. He wanted not to hate him. He wanted to give in to him, let Devon kiss and hold and stroke him.
But something held him back. Lloyd’s ghost.
“I want to believe you, really.” Charlie pulled back. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt when you say you’re not selling drugs.” He opened the door to the shelter. “Good enough?”
“Can you take a walk with me?” Devon shuffled his feet. “So we can talk?”
“No, I’m on duty. I have to settle the men down first.”
“After, can we talk?”
Charlie looked up and blew out a breath. “We can talk in my room, if you want to wait. It’ll take about twenty minutes.” It was a bad idea to let Devon in his room, but at this point, his hunger for the man had overridden his common sense or his fear the priests would find out.
Devon followed him inside.
“Here’s my room.” Charlie opened the door and nodded. “Wait for me.”
Devon stepped inside, and Charlie closed the door behind him. Then he went upstairs to do a head count and make sure everyone had blankets and a bed, and to check if the showers were empty and clean. He took his time, drawing it out until he had to face Devon.
Chapter 7
DEVON LOOKED around the sparse room. A full-size bed against one wall. Next to it, a dresser with a ladder-back chair with a worn cushion. A small nightstand by the bed. A door to either a closet or a bath. Devon wasn’t sure, and he didn’t want to pry.
A priest’s cell might have more furnishings.
No art on the walls, no pictures either. Nothing personal anywhere. Nothing that said this room is where Charlie MacAfee lives.
Devon felt incredibly sad. The demons riding Charlie had stripped him of everything and left him with nothing, not even a small bright spot like a wall calendar.
He wanted to break Charlie free, but how? All he had to give was… what? His body? Devon knew Charlie needed much more than just a warm body to lie with or a quick blowjob every now and then.
Charlie needed to be loved. He needed someone to be there, to support him, to let him know he stayed clean and sober for a reason other than doing penance.
Could Devon give him that? He wasn’t sure he was even capable of love. He’d been so focused for years on his work, it’d left little time for relationships. He’d had crushes when he was younger, before he came out, but not much since then. In his line of work, letting someone in might be more dangerous to them than to Devon’s heart.
Charlie needed a man he could have something with, something lasting, something that told him every day he was good and worthwhile. That he mattered.
He wasn’t sure if he was that man.
Devon sat on the bed and put his head in his hands. To say his life was in turmoil was to say the least. His life was… complicated, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need someone also. Someone like Charlie.
Fuck. He had a damn rescue complex, and he knew it. He wanted to save Charlie from himself. Be a hero.
Did he want Charlie? Really want him? Or was this just lust talking? Did he think of Charlie as another notch on his bedpost or as a person who deserved more?
Devon closed his eyes and thought of how the junkie could have shot and killed Charlie, right here on the steps of the shelter. He could see Charlie’s body spread out across the steps, blood seeping from the wound in his chest, his eyes glazed over and—
Devon bolted to his feet, pushing the image away as his gut churned and tightened.
Yeah, he wanted Charlie, for sure, but there was more to it. He cared about Charlie, and that feeling hadn’t happened to him in a long time. He just needed to convince Charlie his intentions were honorable, sort of.
The door opened and Charlie entered, closing it behind him.
With two long strides, Devon was on him. He shoved him against the door and plastered his body to Charlie’s. Devon’s mouth closed on Charlie’s as he slid his hands down Charlie’s body to entwine his fingers with Charlie’s, letting all his need show.
Charlie froze, resisted, then melted, but Devon never let up. Determined to make Charlie understand how much he wanted him, Devon rubbed their hard cocks together, until both he and Charlie were moaning.
Devon moved them to the bed and pushed Charlie down. He sprawled, limbs spread open, eyes focused on Devon’s. Charlie’s desire burned in his gaze, and Devon didn’t need any more permission than that heated look.
He leaned over, unfastened Charlie’s belt, popped the button on his jeans, and unzipped them. Charlie’s cock bulged, a wet spot just forming on the white cotton of his briefs. Devon bent all the way down and clamped his mouth over the spot and sucked.
Charlie cried out and buried his fingers in Devon’s hair.
“Goddamn, Devon!”
Devon hummed, letting the vibration of his lips play on the shaft. Charlie moaned.
“If you don’t want this, tell me now,” Devon whispered against Charlie’s prick.
Charlie released his hold on Devon’s head and pointed. “Lock the door.”
He rose and strode to the door, threw the deadbolt, and was back before Charlie could even get his jeans off. Devon stripped Charlie’s briefs off, then pulled his shirt over his head.
Charlie lay naked on the bed, stretched out just for Devon. His long cock stood up, eager for more of Devon’s mouth.
“Damn. That’s some hell of a bruise.” Devon ran his fingers over Charlie’s skin in a whisper of touch.
“I fell on the steps. Looks worse than it is.” Charlie caught Devon’s hand in his and interlaced their fingers. “I think you’ve got too much clothes on.”
Devon shucked out of his clothes faster than he’d ever done it before and then climbed on the bed.
Charlie reached for him, a nervous smile coming and going on his face like an unsure virgin, which only reminded Devon of how long it had been for Charlie. He’d have to take it easy and be sure he didn’t hurt the man in his eagerness.
“I’ll go slow, babe. I won’t hurt you.”
Charlie nodded. “I know you won’t. You act all badass, but you’re really….”
Devon cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t you dare say ‘a softie,” he growled a warning.
Charlie laughed. “No, I was going to say you’re really a nice guy.”
“No, I’m not a nice guy. But I’m going to be very nice to you.” Devon had to keep some kind of front up, even with his lover. He didn’t know how to let all his guards down, and this was damn close to it for him.
“Good. I need nice right now in my life.” Charlie’s gaze searched his, and he could see the longing buried there.
“So do I, Charlie.”
Devon kissed Charlie, and he opened up to him, letting Devon take control of the kiss, surrendering to him as if it were inevitable. And maybe it was. Maybe their being together was a sure thing from the moment Devon first saw Charlie open the door to the shelter to take Billy in.
Had he lost it for the man then?
Hell, yeah. But it was okay.
This was okay.
Devon plundered Charlie’s mouth, tasting and teasing, nipping his lips and finally sucking his tongue, bringing it into his mouth, then freeing it.
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Charlie took up the invitation and explored Devon’s mouth. Christ, it made Devon hard to have another man under him, kissing him, feeling the hardness of his cock rubbing against his own.
Their dicks danced together in a slow slide and shudder. Devon shifted and ran his tongue over Charlie’s throat.
“God, Charlie, I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you.”
Charlie chuckled. “Me too. I can’t believe you thought I was a priest.”
Devon nipped Charlie’s nipple. “What was I supposed to think?”
“So did you jerk off thinking about the priest?” Charlie ran his hand down Devon’s back to his ass and gave it a squeeze.
“Yeah. It was dirty and wrong, but so fucking hot,” Devon murmured.
“Most of the priests I deal with here are old, man.”
“Hey, we all have our fantasies. Don’t blow mine.”
Charlie laughed. “Okay. If I’m going to blow anything, I think it’s going to be you.” And with that, he pushed Devon over and wrapped a hand around Devon’s dick.
“Please, Charlie.”
CHARLIE HAD his own fantasies, and blowing Devon was one of them. He’d been living on fantasies for so long, this didn’t seem real. But it was. He was breaking rules doing this here, in the shelter. If anyone found out, it would be the end of the safe little world he’d built for himself.
His hideout.
Was Devon worth it? A few minutes of pleasure? Well, he prayed it’d last longer than a few minutes. He wanted it to last hours. All night, if he told the truth.
He wanted to wake up in the morning with Devon in his arms. He wanted just a taste of happiness. Of joy. Of the things he’d stopped feeling the day he’d killed Lloyd.
Charlie wanted every morning with Devon, and that was just crazy.
He didn’t deserve it. None of it.
It was just this once. A quick blowjob, and he’d put Devon out and tell him never to come back. His mind decided, he licked off the precum covering the tip of Devon’s cock. It tasted slightly bitter; a faint promise of what Devon would taste like when he would come in Charlie’s mouth.
Charlie shuddered, then went into action. He hadn’t done this in a long time, but he hadn’t forgotten how to suck a dick. Hell, no. He’d give Devon his fantasy, even if he wasn’t a priest.
He took Devon’s cock in, sliding his lips over the shaft, feeling silky smooth skin faintly ridged with veins, until his nose rested in tight, dark pubes. He inhaled and loved the scent of sweat, balls, and soap. God, it had been so long since he’d actually smelled that particular fragrance and not imagined it.
Pulling up, he let his teeth rake just barely over skin and heard the soft gasp it brought from Devon. He dove down again and repeated the plunge until Devon whimpered and writhed under his hands.
“Jesus! Charlie!” Devon’s harsh whisper reminded Charlie they needed to keep quiet. Even if it was after hours, one of the men could come down here looking for him. It had happened before. Charlie prayed it wouldn’t happen now.
Not until he’d tasted Devon’s spunk. Then they could bang on the door for all he cared; it would give him an excuse to break it off with Devon.
Because he knew he’d never stop on his own. He just wasn’t that strong. Being here with Devon proved that. He should have sent the man away before all this started.
More proof he didn’t deserve this. He couldn’t even say no to some guy offering to fuck him. Pathetic.
Devon tightened his grip around Charlie’s shoulders, reminding him to get back to work. So he pulled off and did some licking, up and down the shaft, sticking his tongue into the slit and tasting more precum.
“Gonna blow,” Devon warned.
Charlie smiled, then took Devon’s cock deep in his mouth and swallowed around it. On the third swallow, Devon gasped, arched into him, and emptied hot cum down Charlie’s throat.
He swallowed the last of it and sat back on his heels. “If you want more, I don’t have condoms or lube.” Charlie shrugged and flopped down on the bed next to Devon.
Devon rolled onto his side and pulled Charlie into his arms. “This’ll do for now. I’m going to catch my breath and then take care of you.”
“No. You should go.” Charlie stiffened his resolve. This is what he’d decided on, and he would go through with it, even if it hurt like hell.
“Go?” Devon rose up on his arm to stare down at Charlie. “What are you talking about?” His eyes narrowed. “No guy blows another guy, gets a reciprocating offer, and then tells him to leave. What’s up?” He reached out and placed his hand over Charlie’s heart.
Charlie wondered if Devon knew how hard his heart beat because of him.
“It’s just better if you go. You got what you wanted, didn’t you?”
Devon flopped onto his back and exhaled. “No.” Then he sat up on the side of the bed. “I didn’t get what I wanted. Not if you’re asking me to leave.”
Charlie didn’t know what to say. “I told you, we can’t do this here. I’ll lose my job if I’m caught.”
“Okay, I get that. But do you really want me to leave?” Devon turned to face Charlie. His hand stroked Charlie’s cheek, and Charlie couldn’t help but lean into the touch.
“No,” he whispered. “I told you before. I don’t deserve any of this.”
Devon leaned over and kissed him on the mouth, not asking for anything more from him. “I think you do. I think you’ve punished yourself long enough, Charlie.”
“What do you know about it?” Charlie twisted away from Devon.
“I know what I see. I know what I feel. And I want you, Charlie. I want you in my life. I want us to try for something here, if you want it too.” His gaze burned into Charlie.
Charlie’s heart just about broke because he wanted Devon and what he offered.
“You better get dressed and leave.” Charlie climbed past Devon and gathered up his clothes.
Behind him Devon sighed, and the bed creaked as he rose. Charlie pulled on his jeans and a T-shirt, and at last, turned around.
Devon, dressed, stood behind him. More than anything Charlie wanted to go to him, let his arms wrap around him, and melt into the man’s embrace.
“Charlie?” Devon took a step forward.
He moved back. “It’s better this way.”
“For who?” Now Charlie saw the anger in Devon’s eyes.
“Both of us. I’m just saving us all the heartache.”
Charlie turned the lock and escorted Devon to the front door. He opened it, and Devon stepped through. On the top step, he turned around, rooted in his pocket, and pulled out a business card.
“If you ever need me, just call.” He handed Charlie the card.
Charlie took it and looked at it. Nothing there but a number.
“Badass.” Charlie grunted and stuck it in his back pocket.
Devon nodded and continued down the steps. He hit the sidewalk and strode to his car.
Charlie shut the door, unable to watch the one man he’d wanted since before going to prison walk away from him.
Chapter 8
DEVON TURNED the corner and parked. He got out of his car and headed toward the warehouse. The guys should be there, ready to report on what they’d found out about the new dealers showing up in the neighborhood.
They’d worked hard this last year, clearing the streets, running off all the dealers who thought they could come back into this hard-hit neighborhood of good people and try to get a toehold in the drug trade.
Not on his watch. This was his neighborhood. His. And he’d be damned if they were going to ruin it, like they’d ruined countless other neighborhoods—sending them spiraling into economic ruin, drug addiction, and littering blocks with derelict crack houses.
His mind whirring, at first he didn’t hear the guy step out from behind a parked car he’d just passed. Devon spun, reaching for his gun under his jacket, but he faced an armed junkie. He moved his hand away from his gun and h
eld both hands up.
“Give me your money!” The dude waved his gun at Devon.
Could this be the same guy who’d robbed Charlie? If it was, this bastard was going down. Anger like he’d never felt before surged in Devon, and he gave his assailant an evil grin. The guy had no idea who he was going up against, but then junkies usually didn’t care. They just wanted their next hit.
“Sure.” Devon pulled out his wallet and tossed it on the ground between them.
The junkie shuffled forward and bent over to pick it up.
Stupid.
Devon kicked out, knocking the gun out of the guy’s hand, and then swung and caught the man on the jaw with his fist.
The junkie hit the sidewalk with an oof, but a few seconds later started to climb to his feet again. Obviously he didn’t know when to stay down.
Devon kicked him in the belly, and as the man curled around his stomach, groaning, Devon pulled out his cell phone, called the cops, and reported the attack. After snapping his phone closed, he trotted back to his car, popped the trunk, and found a couple of plastic zip ties.
Back at the junkie, Devon caught the guy’s wrists in a tie and pulled it tight. Then he did the same on his ankles, and his assailant was trussed up like a Christmas turkey. Devon kicked the gun off the grass and onto the sidewalk, out of reach of the dude, but where it would be clearly visible to the cops.
He picked up his wallet, returned it to his pocket, and went to his car. He got in and waited for the police. The red and blue lights reflected off the buildings at the corner, and Devon knew they were almost there. He ducked down so he couldn’t be seen as they passed, then peeked over his dashboard.
As Devon watched, they pulled up to the guy on the ground, searched his pockets, and pulled out a handful of baggies.
“Busted,” Devon whispered, as he grinned. Another piece of scum off the streets. He could tell Charlie he didn’t have to worry about that asshole anymore.
Devon’s grin faded. Charlie didn’t want to see him anymore. Shit. That sucked, and it hurt. He hadn’t wanted to tell Charlie how badly his rejection had hurt, how much it’d cost him to go out on a limb and even admit to himself that he wanted more than a blowjob from Charlie.
