by Treva Harte
It was the softest, gentlest kiss Jake had ever had. The most romantic kiss he’d ever had. Cole paused, waiting, his head back a little, his hands still on Jake’s shoulders. What was the man waiting for? When Jake murmured something incoherent, Cole stepped back up and tried again.
It wasn’t soft or gentle this time. His teeth bruised Jake’s lips before Jake opened them to a very insistent tongue. Cole’s body slammed into Jake’s and made him feel it ‑‑ no small feat. Jake heard ‑‑ he was sure he heard ‑‑ Cole’s heart thudding fast against his.
“Jesus.” Jake moaned against the force of that kiss.
“Take your pants off. I’m tired of you playing coy. You’ve been getting me crazier than a rat in a coffee can. I’ve had to wait a fucking week for this, and I want your asshole right this minute.”
Jake was fumbling with his belt before he gave himself time to think about whether he should be following Cole’s orders. No. He didn’t want to give himself time to realize this might not be a good idea.
“Take your own damn clothes off, Cole. Let’s see if you look as good you promise.”
Cole chuckled and bit the sinews of Jake’s neck. Jake moaned louder this time.
He wasn’t usually the bottom ‑‑ at least not on the first fuck ‑‑ but Jake found himself braced against the humming dishwasher and praying Cole had lube and a condom nearby. Prayer was appropriate, seeing as his head was resting against the kitchen counter, and his knees were bent.
He heard Cole fumbling in his pockets. Looked like his prayer was about to be answered.
“Ahh, yeah!” Jake shouted. Cole’s first thrust was slow but deadly accurate. “God, do that again. Just…like that!”
Cole took him at his word. Again. Again and again. Jake’s legs began to tremble as Cole hit just the right spot each time. The man knew what he was doing and had just the right equipment to do it. Jake reached down for his cock as his balls began to ache.
Cole’s hand covered his.
“I’ll take care of that for you. I’ll take care of everything you need.” His breath hissed in Jake’s ear as they stroked together. Jake’s breath began to speed up too. Cole wasn’t letting up. The pressure built until Jake was banging his head against the counter in counterpoint to the banging Cole was giving his ass. “Are you about ready to blow? Because, damn it, you have a sweet butthole. Tight. Grabbing me. I know I’m gonna ‑‑”
Cole trembled, and his hand clasped Jake’s cockhead hard. And then, with a scream, Cole thrust in once more, shoving Jake against the counter with his ferocity. Cole came, noisily, just as Jake felt liquid fire flow from his balls through his penis. He spilled semen over Cole’s shaking hand. Hard, long. As if it would never end and his insides were going to come out along with his semen.
Cole collapsed on top of him, and they both panted. The dishwasher gave a noisy ping to indicate a new rinse cycle and began to vibrate again.
Jake still felt little shudders going through his body. Had it been that long since he’d had sex? And had it ever really been that great before? Hell, he’d rather believe it was great now because he’d gone without for a long time. Especially if you only counted screwing someone you had a real yen for.
“Want a wash?” Cole didn’t wait for a response and began to wipe his cock off with the dishrag.
Jake turned his head back as far as it would go to get a peek. Even with his cock soft and dressed in his T-shirt and unfastened pants, Cole looked gorgeous. All lean muscle and silky golden hair.
Impossibly, Jake began to get hard again. Cole chuckled against his neck as he leaned over to give Jake’s cock a few final swipes.
Unfortunately, Jake wasn’t hard enough to shut off thinking this time.
“This is a big fuckup.” Jake just didn’t have the strength to shake free from Cole’s embrace as he began to wipe down Jake’s balls.
God, that felt good. Jake shut his eyes, wishing for some willpower.
“Well, it was a big fuck. What’s wrong? You know we both wanted it. Looks like you still do.”
Yes.
“No.” Jake managed to scrape up some of that damned willpower.
“Why?” Cole pulled back from him and began to fasten his pants. Damn it.
“Because ‑‑ because…” He couldn’t tell Cole about Jenni. Obviously, that plan was not going to work out. Jake took a breath and began to make his brain function again. “Because I’ve done this before, and it turns into a big fuckup.”
“You haven’t fucked me before.”
“I’ve fucked guys like you. The thing is ‑‑ this is a break for you before you pick up with your life. But for me, this is my life. Fucking guys is what I do. Fucking guys is a hobby for you before you find a woman to settle down with.”
“You’ve never banged a woman? No little cheerleaders on the side back in high school?”
“Well, yeah. But that was a long time ago.”
“So? It’s not like this needs to be more than a weekend in bed now and then. We don’t know each other, although I like what I do know about you. But I’m not looking for more. You’re not looking for more. Right?”
He probably would look for a lot more if this kept going too long. And that was exactly why this was a fuckup.
“Right.” Jake held his pants, not totally sure if he was going to drop them or put them back on.
Oh, hell, Cole might actually be right. Jake wasn’t looking for more just this second. Except that his body was humming from a very good screwing, he wasn’t even sure he liked Cole right now. The guy had totally balled up his plans. He sure wasn’t going to like explaining this to Adam and Chris. And the fascination with the man’s body had been answered. It was a good body and now he’d had it. The quest to explore Cole had been completed.
“So, you want a beer, maybe catch the game on TV? I’m real thirsty now.” Cole’s dimple flashed. “And tired. Maybe next time I’ll let you do the work.”
Jake’s cock twitched again. All right, maybe he wouldn’t mind exploring just a little more of Cole. That bout had been great but fast.
But sex. That was all.
Yeah. There was nothing but sex between them. A few more fucks with Cole and the whole crazy desire for more would be totally gone. Along with Cole.
“Sure. Why not?” He eyed Cole’s ass again as they headed for the television.
But the few fucks would probably be really good while they had them.
* * * * *
“I’m sorry. I mean, I’ve met them. They’re funny and nice and all” ‑‑ Carissa took a huge bite of her Cuban sandwich and talked through the bite ‑‑ “but what’s the big attraction?”
“It’s not attraction. We’re friends. You have friends you don’t have sex with and never will have sex with.”
Carissa set down her sandwich and leaned forward.
“They’re called girlfriends. I have girls who are friends because they can be friends. Not guy friends. Guy friends I always have sex with until we stop being friends. And I don’t spend every frickin’ Friday night with the same group of friends, ever. And I only worry about my friends’ sex lives if they plan to call me at midnight to cry about it or they want to steal my guy.” Carissa counted out the points with each finger. “No, I give up. I can’t list all the ways you are doing this so, so wrong.”
“Which is why we only have lunch when you have nothing better to do, Carissa. And why you’re shallow.” Jenni sipped her latte. “But that’s all right. I like that about you.”
“Maybe I’m shallow. But I get laid. You get gay friends and Friday dinner parties. I’m perfectly happy with what I end up with.”
Jenni balled up her napkin. “They’re… well, they just need, I don’t know, a good friend who they aren’t trying to screw. Or a mommy. Or a keeper.”
“And Saint Jenni comes to the rescue. They appeal to all your worst helper instincts, child. Listen to me. You are not Wendy with the Lost Boys, and none of them is Peter Pan.” Caris
sa shook her head. “Come out clubbing with me next Friday instead.”
“I can’t do that. Something is going on with Adam. Or maybe Chris. Oh, both of them seem miserable. You know, even Jake sounded weird when I called to ask him if he was going to bring his new boyfriend over to my place this time.” Jenni stopped at the look on Carissa’s face. “And you’re going to say there isn’t anything I can do to help.”
“Pretty much, yeah. And you’re going to ignore me.” Carissa stood up. “I like the red streaks in the hair, by the way. And the new haircut.”
“The boys advised it. They actually wanted me to go completely red, but I just wasn’t quite up for that.” Jenni put her trash into the garbage.
“Fine. Whatever. You aren’t listening. How about seeing me on Saturday?”
“Isn’t that when you go planned to go out with ‑‑ um, Greg?”
“Gary. And I’d go with you instead if you want. Besides, it would do Gary good not to be too sure of me. Sometimes white boys think we’re just too easy. I’m all for making him sweat.”
Jenni hugged her. “Thanks, honey. I know that’s the ultimate sacrifice for you. But I’ll be fine.”
“Think about it, huh? And take care.”
“Sure.” Jenni waved as she headed out.
Sometimes Carissa was a sweetheart. She usually did come through when things got bad. Jenni’s step faltered as she wondered whether Carissa offering to temporarily give up a man for her meant that Jenni’s life was desperate.
Jenni stared at her reflection in the nearest store window. She was a little shorter than average and maybe a very few pounds over her ideal weight, but the extra fat had settled mostly on her breasts, so that was all right. Her skin always looked like she’d gotten herself a nice tan ‑‑not burned toast tan, but nice, even though she spent much too much time in the office. The red highlights had certainly added something to her dark brownish, nondescript hair.
She was fine. Attractive enough. She certainly wasn’t the nerdy little wallflower she had been in high school, the one who had desperately tried to blend in with the walls since she couldn’t blend in with other people.
She wasn’t supposed to be a part of the wall any more. She was supposed to work to stand out. Adam had recommended tighter sweaters and stiletto heels. Chris told her to wear contacts more. Jake had just shrugged and said she was always fine.
And just why had she asked those three guys how to look sexier to straight men?
Maybe Carissa was right. Carissa usually was right about men. And, unfortunately, she was usually right on the money about Jenni.
Her cell phone trilled.
“Yeah?”
“Jenni, when you get home erase the phone message. Don’t even listen to Mom.”
“Tonya, what’s up?” Jenni could already feel a headache starting. Tonya was all right for a baby sister. But Mom and phone messages were always trouble.
“Nothing. Really.”
“Something about you? The baby? Paul?” Tonya was settled but things in her life could go wrong. Thank God Tonya didn’t see how easily things could go wrong.
“Nothing is wrong. Mom has a stupid idea in her head. We’re doing fine. Really. We don’t need anything.”
Mom, need, and stupid idea. Jenni began to rub her forehead. “Tell me the stupid idea, girl.”
“She’s just found a new way to hit you up for money. But I’m fine. I get Paul’s paycheck sent to me now that he’s on tour.”
“She’s asking about a baby shower?” Jenni guessed.
“Well, yeah. But she wants you to foot the bill for the shower and some stupid big gift, and don’t. Just don’t. It’s not needed. All right? I have a good support group here on base. If I can’t have Paul, they’re the next best thing.”
“It’s all right, honey. Don’t get in a fret. It’s bad for the baby and all. I’ve handled Mom all these years. I don’t think I’ve forgotten how.”
Tonya was all right. Mom was another story. There’d been plenty of fathers for Mom’s babies but no more husbands after Mom got divorced at age nineteen. Jenni hadn’t seen much of either of her parents after the divorce and just as well. A pregnant teenage white girl with no future plans forced into marrying a black teen who had already lined up scholarships for Harvard and never planned to return? It definitely hadn’t been meant for them to be a happy family.
If not for Grandma, Jenni might have ended up like her brothers. But Grandma had kept Jenni on track and focused on the future, just the way she had Jenni’s dad. But with Jenni, Grandma had added a lot more lectures on not having babies until she was ready for them.
Jenni had been old enough or maybe stupid enough to do her best for Tonya after Grandma died and Jenni tracked down the rest of her dysfunctional family. Jenni would like to think her being around for her half-sister had helped. At least, Tonya had pulled off what none of her other siblings had. She was nineteen, married, and pregnant, but all in the order Grandma had preached to Jenni. Better yet, Tonya had her head on straight, and she was with the man she wanted to be with forever. Tonya’s Paul was deployed and maybe in danger, but they seemed solidly together. As together as you could be when you were thousands of miles apart.
“You know I plan to spoil that kid of yours, right? Mom doesn’t need to push on that.”
“I love you, Jenni. Don’t let her get to you the way she does. You just stay out of touch.”
“Right. She won’t get to me if I see her first. I love you, too, honey. Hang in.” Jenni switched off the phone and almost dropped it when someone pushed into her.
“Pardon me.” A man’s voice interrupted her musing. Jenni stumbled and righted herself as the man next to her grabbed her shoulders. He looked a little dirty, but he smiled nicely enough. “That was very clumsy of me. Are you all right?”
Was he checking out her butt?
“Sure. No problem.”
The man nodded and stepped back. Jenni wondered if that was going to be the extent of any male touching for the rest of the week ‑‑ not counting all the hugs she got from the boys. Of course, Carissa would say those didn’t count…
“Excuse me, ma’am.” Another male voice spoke from behind them. “You may want to check your purse.”
“Huh?” Jenni looked down.
“Not so fast, buddy.” The second male kept a tight hold on the first one’s elbow.
“My wallet is gone.” Jenni couldn’t believe it. How had she allowed that to happen?
“I’d appreciate it if you’d come down to the station and file a complaint.” The second male ‑‑ who was obviously a cop though he wasn’t dressed that way ‑‑ pulled out the wallet from inside the first one’s jacket. “We’ve had a rash of pickpocketing in this area for the past month.”
Great. The one male who had touched her this week was a thief. If he had checked out her butt, it was to see if she had any money in her rear pockets.
“Is it going to take more than an hour? I have a city conference to catch at the Governmental Center… Morales. That’s your name, right?” Jenni squinted through her watering contacts but she was pretty sure the name and face had clicked together for her.
“Luis. Luis Morales. You remember me, Miss…Harris, right?”
Oh my God. It was the Luis Morales. Not even watering eyes should have let her miss that killer physique.
“Harrison. Yeah, that’s me. You were a regular in criminal court when I was covering that beat.” Thank God she had an inoffensive reason for remembering him.
But what she really remembered was his butt. No one who saw the photos could forget that ass. Of course, seeing him and that butt, even covered in a police uniform, had been a highlight of her day back when she did the crime beat.
Luis Morales finished reciting the expected Miranda rights and efficiently snapped handcuffs on the squirming man in front of him. “I’ll try to make it brief as a favor for you, Miss Harrison. You did decent work back then. Excuse me while I call this in. You
might as well come along. You won’t be far from your meeting.”
“I still do good work, by the way.” Jenni let herself admire the muscle it took to efficiently bundle the pickpocket toward an unmarked car. “And if I’m late for my meeting, I’m going to call your supervisor. We’re pretty good friends, you know. I knew her back when she was new at Narcotics.”
She had to spoil things. Here he was, getting a nice fantasy going of having this tiny woman melt at his feet and tell him how strong and manly he was for rescuing her and her wallet. Then she had to go and mention his supervisor.
The one who had managed to assign him to every asshole part of a really asshole job. And now, to add icing on the shitcake, he had to play hero and arrest a petty thief, which was not part of his current job.
He was supposed to be keeping a low profile nowadays with his new assignment. His boss already pretty much had said she had her doubts that he could keep away from promoting himself in front of the cameras.
Like he asked for all the publicity. Like anyone would ask to be called “the still-pretty Hispanic cop” in the newspaper. A real reporter like Jenni Harrison wouldn’t have done that to him. All right, he’d made a stupid mistake when he was younger. And his uptight, conservative family always reminded him he had brought all the consequences onto himself. His nude modeling career had made such a nice contrast to his dad’s illustrious career as an ambassador and then brother Daniel’s political life as a congressman. Luis was naturally vulnerable to any cheap shots that came along.
What they didn’t say, but Luis knew damn well, was that the family would never protest to anyone. After all, laughing at the family black sheep meant no one was laughing at Danny. That worked out just fine for everyone else. Danny was going places.
So it was open season on Luis Morales and had been for years.
Yeah, he missed Jenni Harrison. After the new crime reporter came up with that description, he pretty much begged for a transfer out of his department and into more undercover work.
The new reporter had probably hated his family’s politics and wanted to score points in his stories. Too bad he wasn’t covering city politics rather than Jenni. Jenni had always been a professional. She never would have done that.
