Twisted and Tied

by Mary Calmes

  I smiled.

  “What?”

  “Everybody left me and Kelson alone. What do you think Kage did to those guys for that?”

  “Something horribly painful,” he said, cackling.

  “Asset forfeiture,” I said and then I grinned as I saw a werewolf headed down the street toward me. “Oh no, I’m gonna die.”

  Chickie gave me a sort of yodeling howl and was on me in seconds. He was so big, part malamute, maybe some husky thrown in there, Caucasian ovcharka for sure, and probably, though no one could say conclusively, some wolf. He was huge. On his back legs, his front paws went easily on my shoulders, and I was five eleven. People saw him coming and ran, except when Sajani held his leash while they walked around together. Then there was only “oohing” and “ahhhing” and “ohmygod, they’re freakin’ adorable together” from anyone who saw them. Babies and dogs weren’t a thing on the internet for nothing.

  He whimpered and wiggled and bumped me with his head and licked my hands until I buried them in the long fur Ian and I had to constantly stay on top of. He had to be brushed once a day, and we had just bought a vacuum cleaner we carried like a backpack. Whoever wore it looked like a Ghostbuster.

  “Jesus, that dog is a monster,” Eli said as Chickie greeted him and then bolted back down the street to Ian. “I see the hair grew back over where he was shot.”

  “Hair grows everywhere on the dog. That’s not an issue.”

  When we got closer to the Greystone, I saw Ian sitting on the stairs in a pair of old threadbare jeans, one of my ancient University of Chicago T-shirts, and socks. He looked fantastic, like home, like everything I’d ever wanted.

  What kind of idiot messed around with their life’s happiness? Who did that?

  I nearly threw up again.

  I finally had Ian; everything else should have been secondary. But that’s not what I was doing. I was being selfish, needing my personal and professional lives to be exactly what I wanted. It could be argued that I hadn’t picked my new job, that it was chosen for me. But I didn’t argue either. I accepted because I could see myself taking care of kids… helping….

  But if I lost Ian because of the job… what was the use? It was an impossible choice, and I couldn’t move, couldn’t take another step, so horrified by the choice I faced. Eli walked by me and then stopped, realizing I wasn’t at his side.

  He turned to come back, but Ian called to him.

  In moments they switched positions, Eli at the top of the stoop and Ian walking quickly down the sidewalk toward me. I had the strangest urge to run, and so I grabbed the streetlight to prop me up and keep me from bolting.

  “Don’t make me sic the dog on you,” Ian warned with a chuckle as he closed in.

  I turned slowly, and he was close. Standing my ground, shoving my hands down into the pockets of my dress pants, I waited.

  He didn’t stop, didn’t slow, just walked right up to me, slipped his hand around the back of my neck, and kissed me.

  Hard, devouring, claiming, like he meant it, like I belonged to him, like he was trying to get my attention.

  I broke the kiss when I couldn’t breathe, panting as I leaned my forehead against his. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  I snapped my head up and stared into those beautiful blue eyes of his. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I’m the one who—”

  “No,” he assured me, massaging the back of my neck, up in my hair. “I was wrong to think that I could stand between you and all the bad shit in your life. I want to protect you, and I missed having you there today, but I forgot that when you’re good at your job, people want you to do something more. It happened in the Army. I got good at one thing, and then there was always the next step to take. People expect you to climb up the ladder, not down.”

  “Yes, they do,” I agreed, just soaking in the closeness, not looking away.

  “This morning I thought, Kage is out of his fuckin’ mind, and then I spent all day being in charge of everyone outside our office, and it was like—”

  “Natural.”

  After a moment he nodded.

  “You’re a born leader, Ian, just like Becker, just like Kage. People want to do what you tell them because they can see you’ll be right behind them.”

  “And Kage sees that you’re good with people, and he knows how great at taking care of kids you are, so that’s why he picked you for Custodial.”

  “I know I’m gonna get hurt, and I know that every day won’t be a win.”

  “No, it won’t, but this morning when we left for work, I thought everything but you was the same as it was yesterday. I thought, if I’m going anywhere, it’s to SOG.”

  “Sure.”

  “But then we get to work and everything’s different, and you can’t work for me anymore anyway,” he said, chuckling. “I can’t order around the guy I sleep with.”

  I grinned.

  “You’re a pervert, just so you know,” Ian assured me.

  The tears of relief came fast. The fear had been sitting on my heart all day long, since I’d decided to repress it and focus on the job. I’d been putting it aside, thinking about everything but losing Ian—and there was a whole laundry list of things to concentrate on—but when I saw him, it was like being caught in a landslide, and I was lost in seconds.

  “Miro,” he rumbled, and the sound sent electric tingles running down my spine, straight to my cock. Nobody else, just with their voice, turned me inside out like Ian. “Nothing with me works without you, so just follow me home, all right? Don’t overthink, don’t be scared. Everything’s okay.”

  “You promise?”

  “I promise.”

  I heaved in a gulp of air. “We’re still gonna fight, and there’s still gonna be—”

  “We’re still us,” he said, kissing my eyes, my cheek, and the line of my jaw. When he licked over my lips, I had to take hold of him so I wouldn’t fall down.

  “Love.”

  I jolted under his hands, flayed open today between this and the kids and then Kelson. I was needy and vulnerable, and I needed Ian to make my whole world balance out and make sense. “God, I’m sorry, you’re gonna be the guy putting me back together every night when I come home.”

  “Yeah, maybe. And maybe you’ll be doing it for me. We work life-and-death jobs, and some days they’re gonna totally suck. We just gotta make sure we talk all the time. Nobody gets to go all silent and broody.”

  I snorted. “But you look so hot when you brood.”

  “Are you done?” The way he lifted one eyebrow and curled his lips, how his voice got all silvery and soft, nearly stopped my heart. He annihilated me always.

  “Yeah, I—”

  “Don’t leave me,” he said quickly, adamantly, kissing my jaw, the side of my neck, inhaling me. “Miro, honey, don’t ever leave me.”

  I was lost, putty in his hands. “I thought—it’d be you.”

  He stepped into me, hugging me tight, face down in my shoulder. “No, honey, I’m gonna stick right here with you.”

  I gave him my weight, leaning, letting him shore me up as I soaked up his warmth, his strength, all of him, just Ian and that he belonged to me.

  “Stop thinking I could ever leave you, all right, and I’ll stop thinking you’ll tell me to go.”

  It was a powerful thing, taking for granted that the person you loved would simply be there through thick and thin, forever. It was faith and trust, neither of which I was any good at before Ian.

  “That’s what our marriage is gonna be about, sticking it out because we love each other more than anything.”

  I straightened up, leaned free, and looked at him.

  “What?”

  “That was very profound.”

  “Oh yeah?” He grinned. “You like that?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay, so, we good?”

  I needed these simple conversations that put the world under my feet, sky overhead, everything back in
its place, and me no longer untethered. Ian made my life solid, and it sounded like I did the same for him. I hadn’t been giving myself enough credit. As much as I’d been worried about losing him, he was just as scared over the thought of being without me, and because the marriage was new, I’d been treating it like either one of us could simply walk away.

  It was like when you moved into a new apartment but didn’t unpack your boxes because you weren’t sure how long you were going to be there. That’s how I’d felt, like I’d been waiting to see what would happen. My boxes were all still sealed.

  “Miro?”

  I leaned in, hugged him tight, and heard his low, seductive chuckle. “Yeah, we’re good.”

  “It’s my fault. I was scared this morning before we went to work, and I was freaking out and—I’m sorry.”

  “Me too,” I told him.

  “Hey!”

  We pulled apart slowly and looked down the street to Eli on the stairs.

  “I’m starving, the dog’s starving. Can we make with the dinner, please?”

  Ian grabbed my hand and tugged me after him. “We better go feed him. He gets whiney when he’s hungry.”

  “He does, you’re right.”

  “We should feed Chickie too,” Ian said, chuckling. “By the way, what’d you eat today?”

  I was not about to tell him I was empty on the inside.

  “I mean,” he said, turning to look at me, “that you kept down.”

  “How did you know I was sick?”

  “Oh, I dunno, maybe ’cause I know you and know that dealing with anything Hartley-related makes you barf.”

  “You’re not wrong,” I agreed, letting go of his hand to move in closer, jostle up next to him so he could put his arm around my shoulders. I had to be closer to him, I’d missed him all day, worried all day, and so the contact was as necessary as breathing.

  “Well, I’ll fix you up,” he promised. “I can’t wait to hear about your day.”

  It was nice to know that although we didn’t work together anymore, the talks would be endless, and that was really something to look forward to.

  Chapter 9

  IAN MADE spaghetti with meat sauce, and as Eli looked at it, he realized the same thing I did the first time I ate it: “sauce” was a loose term, and it had a kick to it.

  “Isn’t this supposed to pour?” Eli asked as he stood next to the soup pot with a ladle of sauce in his hand that would not come out of the spoon onto his plate.

  “You have to really kinda fling it,” Ian suggested, taking a gulp of his beer from one of the frosted glasses I’d started keeping in the freezer.

  “It’s more like a stew than a sauce,” I acknowledged. “But it’s really good. You just tasted it. You know it’s great.”

  “Yeah, but sauce can be ladled.”

  He had a point. It was probably the sausage, mushrooms, green peppers, onions, and capers Ian put into sauce already thick with ground beef that rendered it unpourable.

  “You shouldn’t need a knife with spaghetti.”

  Ian glowered at us. “You guys need to get off my ass on the whole cooking thing because I didn’t hear either of you volunteering.”

  “You’re right, I’m sorry,” I said sincerely because, really, it was very thoughtful and a gorgeous meal, complete with a tossed salad with the grape tomatoes I liked, crusty garlic bread, and wine for me and Eli. “Thank you, baby.”

  I leaned sideways, bumping him with my shoulder, and kissed him. I meant it to be a quick peck, but he bit down on my bottom lip, holding me there. When he let go, he slid his tongue over the bite and then went back to eating. My whole body thrummed as I stared at him, unable to look away as arousal buzzed through me.

  “You know, Mrs. Svoboda says that your name is wrong,” Ian said, making conversation even as he slipped his hand around my thigh under the table.

  “My what now?” I asked, squirming a bit, feeling my cock thicken in my dress pants.

  “Your name,” he said with a grin that should have been illegal. It was seductive, like a cool pond on a hot summer day. “She’s originally from the Czech Republic. She used to live just outside of Prague, and she says that the shortened version of Miroslav is not Miro, but Mirek.”

  “Oh, that’s cool,” Eli said, clearly enjoying his food by the way he was shoveling it in. “I should start calling him that.”

  “Or not,” I said, willing him to eat even faster, shifting in my seat at the table, needing to relieve the pressure.

  “I think Mirek sounds badass.”

  “I need more wine,” I said, getting up and walking to the pantry and the rack full of bottles inside it.

  “You want a whole other bottle?” Ian called.

  I stood in the pantry, hands flat on the wall, trying to calm down. It was the day, I knew it was. I’d been scared of losing him, and having everything as it should be, plus his closeness, was doing insane things to my libido. I needed Eli gone because I wanted Ian all over me.

  “Wait, what?” Ian said suddenly from the doorway to the pantry, clearly talking to Eli and not me.

  “I’ll be right back. I’m just looking for the bottle I want,” I lied, trying to will my erection back down. There was no way Eli would miss it, and then he’d feel like he had to leave, and that wasn’t what I wanted.

  Well. I did want that, but not because he’d be embarrassed or feel like he was a third wheel or something. That wasn’t my intent. It was all Ian’s fault.

  “What’re you doing?” Ian asked, leaning into the pantry and looking at me.

  I put my cheek on the cold plaster wall, staring at him, at his broad shoulders and wide chest, noting his long muscular legs and the veins in his arms. He was simply mouthwatering, and I was aching for him. “Go away. Talk to Eli.”

  He scowled but then saw me adjust myself, and the wicked grin made his eyes gleam with the same dangerous intent.

  “Get out,” I ordered.

  “You hard?”

  I ignored him, pressing my forehead to the chilled surface. I felt like I had a fever.

  His chuckle was simply decadent.

  Turning my head, I growled at him. “I hate you right now.” He took a step toward me. “Okay, I’m outta here.”

  “No,” Ian ordered, turning to walk back out to the table.

  Moving slowly, I made it to the doorway and then bent over the counter so my cock—trying to escape through my zipper—was hidden. Ian stood beside the refrigerator, arms crossed, leaning against it as he talked to Eli.

  “You don’t have sex with strangers anymore. You’re thirty-two years old, man, that’s ridiculous. You need to be dating, not fuckin’ around.”

  “You sound like my mother,” Eli griped.

  “For fuck’s sake, Eli, you don’t even know this girl.”

  “That’s the point. I will get to know her in the biblical sense.”

  Ian shook his head.

  “Listen, just because you can get laid at home doesn’t mean the rest of us can,” Eli protested, then gulped his wine.

  “Having sex with women you meet on an app on your phone is not safe.”

  “Everybody uses it,” he explained, standing up, cupping his hand over his face and doing the breath test. “Awww man, how much garlic is on that bread?”

  “It’s called garlic bread, you ass, and there’s some in the spaghetti too.”

  “Tell me you have toothbrushes for overnight guests.”

  “In that bathroom right there,” Ian said, shaking his head.

  “Don’t judge me. Did you actually look at the girl?” Eli asked, walking toward the bathroom, pausing to pet Chickie, who was passed out on the couch. “I know you can appreciate a beautiful woman.”

  “Yeah, she’s hot, but c’mon, Eli, you’re not gonna date her.”

  As I listened to them, I could feel my body start to cool down. It was the banter, the normalcy of them that did it.

  “No, man, I’m gonna fuck her,” Eli clarified. “
I need to get laid.”

  “You should start being more serious about who you’re dating.”

  “Have you lost your— Where are the tooth—”

  “On the left-hand side,” Ian directed, levering off the refrigerator and walking over to me.

  I really needed him to stay on the other side of the room. He was too much of a temptation, and I was like dry brush at the moment. The tiniest spark and I would combust. “Ian, I—”

  He grabbed me roughly, twisted my right arm behind my back, took firm hold of my left shoulder, and shoved me back inside the pantry.

  He pinned me face-first to the wall and held my head there, my cheek ground into the smooth, cool plaster as he used his left hand to get into my pants.

  “What’re you—doing?” I gasped, jolting against him, pressing my ass back into him. “Eli’s still in the… the… the place where we are now.”

  He rumbled in my ear, biting the lobe, breathing down the side of my neck as he worked my belt open, the button of my dress pants and then the zipper. His hand brushed over my hip before he wrapped it around my length and tugged.

  I moaned his name.

  His chuckle was sinister as he let go of my head, only to wrap that hand around my throat and tip my head so it fell back on his shoulder.

  “Ian, I will have a debate about fucking versus dating with you tomorrow,” Eli cackled as he moved through the house, away from the kitchen. “In the meantime, I’ll call you later and let you know I’m not dead.”

  “Good,” Ian yelled back.

  “See ya later, Mirek,” Eli continued, and then I heard the door open and slam shut. Clearly he was in a hurry.

  “The hell are you thinking?” I shuddered, reaching for him behind me.

  “Stop moving,” he ordered, passing me a bottle of lube. “Hold this.”

  “Where was this?”

  “Under the sink,” he told me, shoving my pants to my knees.

  “You’re always prepared,” I teased.

  “I was an Army Ranger, and I’m a deputy US marshal,” he reminded me, bumping me as he got into his jeans, pushing them to his thighs before snatching the lube out of my hand and opening it with a click. “I’m ready for anything.”