Vodka & Handcuffs

by Brandon Witt

  “I am.” Vahin tried to place the man but couldn’t.

  “I’m Chief—”

  “Oh my God, you’re Chief Schmidt, aren’t you? Are you here to arrest me?” Fuck. It was worse than he’d feared.

  The man smiled, though he cast another worried glance over Vahin’s shoulder toward Daniel. “No. I’m not, but I wanted to do this in person. And Officer Barton said you’d be here.”

  “Oh.” So Marlon knew. Surely if the worst had happened, he would’ve given Vahin a warning. Something. He patted his thigh. Yep, phone was still there. There’d been no call.

  Chief Schmidt looked around. “Is there a private place we can talk?”

  “Sure!” Vahin stood and searched the bar for where to go.

  Daniel pointed across the dining room. “Office, Vahin. Office. And you need to breathe.”

  “Right. Office.” He turned back to Chief Schmidt. “This way.”

  Steven had left more than an hour before, so Vahin didn’t bother knocking. He opened the door and walked in, then made room for the chief. “Sorry, it’s cramped.”

  Chief Schmidt entered and angled his body back so Vahin could close the door. “No problem.” He sat in Steven’s chair when Vahin motioned toward it.

  Vahin thought he might hyperventilate if he had to wait much longer. “So there’s news?”

  “Yes.” The chief reached out a hand and surprised Vahin by placing it on his forearm and giving a slight squeeze before pulling away. “And it’s all good news. I wasn’t trying to stress you out by coming here.”

  White light seemed to explode behind Vahin’s eyes. “I’m sorry, what? It’s all okay?”

  He smiled. “Yes. It’s all okay.”

  Vahin sagged in the tiny chair, his breath rushing from him. His eyes stung. He couldn’t think of what to say.

  Probably worried that Vahin was going to pass out, Chief Schmidt regrouped his professional demeanor. “I’ll make it quick. Everything is going to be dismissed against you. You won’t have to go to court, there’s no more ticket, no more anything.”

  “Really?” He’d spent every moment hoping to hear those words, but some part of him had refused to believe they would happen. Not to him.

  “Yes. I won’t go into detail, but I’m willing to bet someone else we both know will. Even if he’s not supposed to.” A smile played at the corner of Chief Schmidt’s lips.

  Vahin sank impossibly lower in the chair, his mind playing with the idea of actually believing what the man said. “Okay. That’s….” There was no word for what that was. Another thought hit him. “What about Mary’s? Will they still have to—”

  “That’s dismissed too. There is no ticket for this establishment either.”

  Vahin’s skin was tingling. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Well, you’re very lucky.” A shadow crossed Chief Schmidt’s face. “Actually, no. Luck had nothing to do with it. Those tickets shouldn’t have existed in the first place. You’re simply getting justice.”

  Those words broke something free in Vahin, released the hold guilt had claimed over him the past few weeks. He wiped at his eyes, refusing to cry in front of the chief. “Thank you. And thank you for coming down here to tell me.”

  Chief Schmidt laughed. “Actually that part is for my own benefit. It most definitely isn’t protocol. I wanted to meet you.”

  Vahin sat up a little straighter and wiped his eyes once more before clearing his throat. “You did?”

  “I did.” The chief nodded. “Officer Barton is very important to me, and he’s a phenomenal officer. There’s been a change in him lately, even with all the stress happening. I wanted to meet the man responsible for it.”

  “Oh.” Vahin wasn’t sure what to say to that, but his heart sped up for an entirely different reason.

  There was a fatherly protectiveness in Chief Schmidt’s expression as he inspected Vahin. “I’m not going to threaten you if you break his heart or anything like that. Even if I’d mean it.” He narrowed his eyes. “I wanted to meet you for myself and to make sure you knew what a good man Marlon Barton is. I hope you recognize that and treat him accordingly.”

  Vahin took a moment to respond. He didn’t get the sense that he was supposed to be intimidated, at least not much. More than anything, he felt like he was meeting an important member of Marlon’s family and needed to pass some sort of test. “I do, sir. I’m constantly blown away by how wonderful Marlon is.”

  The chief nodded, studied Vahin for a moment longer, then stood and stuck out his hand. “Good to meet you, son. I’m glad this is all over and done for you. For both of you.”

  Vahin shook his hand. “Thank you, sir.” He wasn’t sure, but he thought the chief had found whatever he’d been looking for. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

  THE METAL clicked as the cuff closed tighter around Vahin’s wrist. He gave a tentative pull. “I’m not sure my bed frame is ready for this.”

  Marlon grinned down at him wickedly. “We’re celebrating. If buying a new bed is part of the expense, so be it.”

  Another wave of relief washed over him. “I can’t believe it’s done. That I don’t even have to go to court or anything.”

  Marlon shrugged. “Not too surprising. Andrew didn’t have any clearance, didn’t do things by the book, and with Pat’s video….” Marlon scoffed. “It would be asking for trouble to take it further. It’s in the best interest of everyone if the ticket magically disappeared. Of course, you missed out on a great lawsuit opportunity, if you’d wanted one.” Marlon clicked the fuzzy cuff one notch tighter so it barely cut into Vahin’s skin, then ran his hand down Vahin’s arm and through his chest hair.

  Vahin arched his back, letting out a groan, then narrowed his eyes at Marlon, despite his pleasure. “You sound pretty confident, like you weren’t worried.”

  “I wasn’t too worried. This outcome is the only one that made sense, but I didn’t want to say it like that to you. Because it should happen this way, didn’t mean there wasn’t a slight chance it wouldn’t.” Marlon moved down Vahin’s body, lowering his face to Vahin’s. “Can we quit talking about this now?”

  Vahin answered with a kiss, one that was sweet for half a second, then became heat and tongue.

  As Marlon explored Vahin’s mouth, he ran his hand down Vahin’s stomach, wrapped his fingers around Vahin’s cock, and gave it a tug.

  Vahin pushed into his grip, beginning to pump.

  Marlon released him, both his grip and the kiss. “Oh no, you don’t. You’re not coming yet.”

  “I’m not going to last long, Marlon. I feel like I’ve been pent up for weeks, even with all the sex we’ve had.” He grinned up at Marlon. “I’m going to shoot quick, and then I’m afraid I’ll be done.”

  Marlon grimaced. “Why do you sound happy about that?”

  “Why? Are you so sex starved you need it to last hours?”

  “You have met me before, right?” Marlon gripped Vahin’s cock again and gave another squeeze. He looked down, then ran his thumb over the tip.

  Vahin sucked in a breath. He hadn’t been kidding—just the spreading of his slick precum was nearly enough to bring him to orgasm. He forced the sensation away. “I’m afraid if you want to make tonight last, you’re going to have to try a little harder.”

  A hurt look crossed Marlon’s face. “I haven’t been trying hard enough for you?”

  He ignored the question. It took effort not to laugh and to keep the intentionally sexy rasp in his voice. “I’m afraid I’m going to shoot and be done, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” He yanked lightly where he was bound with the fuzzy purple handcuffs. “What good do you think one little pair of these will do?” He reached down with his free hand and grabbed Marlon’s thick cock and squeezed hard.

  Marlon let out a hiss.

  Vahin released him and raised his hand to the cuffs. “I mean, once I shoot, it would be easy for me to reach up and hit the release, and then I’m off watching TV or so
mething while you get blue balls.”

  Understanding dawned in Marlon’s expression, and he scoffed. “You’re never satisfied.”

  “Maybe if you were someone else, these cute little cuffs would work.” Vahin ran his hand across Marlon’s muscled chest and then smacked his left pec, hard. “But my boyfriend is a cop. Surely he doesn’t expect me to be satisfied with a Muppet tied to my wrist.”

  “Oh for fuck—” Marlon swung his leg over Vahin so he no longer straddled him and got off the bed.

  Vahin watched Marlon’s superb naked body as he walked through the bedroom door and disappeared around the corner. There was a small clanging of metal, and he was back, dick still hard, pointing skyward and bobbing back and forth with each step he took.

  He held the official handcuffs out toward Vahin. “Will these work?”

  God yes! He shrugged with his free shoulder. “Put them on me, and then I won’t have a choice, will I?”

  Marlon moved up on the bed, crawled onto Vahin until his massive thighs were under Vahin’s armpits and his cock was inches from Vahin’s face. “What do you want me to do once I’ve got these on you?”

  In his fantasy, Marlon would ride Vahin’s cock to orgasm and then get off and fuck Vahin himself. However, even hotter than that would be letting Marlon do anything he wanted, as many times as he wanted.

  Vahin flashed an innocent look up at Marlon. “I don’t know, Officer. I’ll be at your mercy. I guess I’ll have to let you do whatever you want.”

  Marlon studied Vahin for a second, and then his expression changed. He gripped Vahin’s free arm and lifted it toward the headboard. With his other hand, he forced his erection into Vahin’s mouth. “How about we start with you not making so much noise.”

  Vahin’s eyes rolled back in his head with pleasure as Marlon’s pubes pushed against his face while the cold metal encircled his wrist and then closed tight.

  There were no more worries over ruining his life or Mary’s, no triggering sensation of the handcuffs being anything more than a fun time with his man. It was only lust, passion, and love.

  He peered up, captured by the sight of Marlon’s muscled body as he rocked into Vahin’s mouth.

  Marlon glanced down, their gazes met, and his grin grew wicked.

  Yeah. Lust and love. What could be better?

  Acknowledgments and Thanks

  ALTHOUGH HAMBURGER Mary’s is a real restaurant, all characters and events are fictitious. Hamburger Mary’s trade name and images are used with permission.

  First and foremost, I have to thank Hamburger Mary’s International—specifically Ashley and Brandon Wright. When I wrote to Hamburger Mary’s saying I had a series of novellas in mind that I’d like to place at one of your restaurants, I expected I’d never get a reply. Not only did you say yes, but you allowed me to use Mary on the cover of my books and spent so much time giving me the behind-the-scenes details, tours, and insight. More than anything, thank you for your kindness and allowing a little-known author to play with your wonderful franchise. Hamburger Mary’s has always had a special place in my heart, and now, even more so.

  Dear Reader: You simply must go to the nearest Hamburger Mary’s! And if you’re in Denver, you have no choice but to visit the one that you just read about. Hell, maybe we can get a Black & Bleu Burger together! If we do, I’m not sharing, but I will split the nachos!

  Christopher Maluck, John Skogstad Jr., Mark Price, Jason Hardin, Dave Zahradnik, Adriana Parkinson, and the rest of the Denver Hamburger Mary’s team, thank you for the tours, letting me see it as you did renovations, and always making time for me. I’ve fallen completely in love with your restaurant!

  Pat Mackley, thank you so much for being a featured character in this series and for supporting a fellow author’s medical needs through Lisa Horan’s The Novel Approach’s (Book Review Blog) generous donation.

  Arshad, Atom, Bryan, and Thomas, thank you all for your willingness to be interviewed about your careers and/or experiences with cultural issues that are a part of this series. I was honored by your time and your trust.

  Elizabeth, as ever, thank you for changing my life. And for challenging me to do something new and give some novellas a try. (They’re so much scarier than novels!)

  AngstyG, thank you for going on this new adventure with me, for your flexibility and creative genius.

  Desi, I don’t want to face any moment involving words without you by my side to keep me from seeming illiterate while still pushing me in my craft. I can’t say how thankful I am for you!

  Author’s Note

  A VERY special person played a huge role in one of the characters of the Mary’s Boys series: Pat Mackley. By giving both financial and emotional support to another beloved author in need of medical care through a raffle donated by The Novel Approach Blog, Pat got to help craft one of the characters of the series in her likeness. Thank you, Pat and The Novel Approach, for your generosity and taking the time for the fun interviews and character questions to help craft Pat Pinto in your likeness. I hope you enjoy her and see yourself in her strength and kindness. You made this series so much richer!

  With much love, respect, and gratitude, Brandon Witt

  Exclusive Excerpt

  Mascara & Bandages

  A Mary’s Boys Novella

  By Brandon Witt

  Ariel Merman is a relatively new drag queen, who’s already finding a family at Hamburger Mary’s. After a performance as Ariel, Zachary Cooper walks home in his makeup and is assaulted by homophobes. Zachary’s worry that the attack has thrown a wrench in his good fortune is eased when he looks into the eyes of his doctor.

  Doctor Teegan Chau is a little lost after divorcing his wife and coming out of the closet, but he can’t deny the pull he feels toward the young man he patches up. Luckily, Zachary takes the initiative and asks Teegan out. But attraction is the easy part of their blossoming relationship—as they deal with an ex-wife and child, being a drag queen in a heteronormative culture, Zachary’s lingering trauma from his attack, and Teegan acclimating to life as part of an out-and-proud gay couple.

  The challenges seem daunting at the start of a romance. Can Zachary and Teegan make it through the rough patches and take a chance on the love that’s been missing from both their lives?

  Coming Soon to

  www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  Chapter One

  Zachary Cooper

  A LOUD cheering sound outside the door made Zachary flinch, causing the corner of the false eyelash to poke his eye instead of adhering to his eyelid. With a hiss, he pulled the lash away and slammed his eye shut.

  Damn it, he hated false eyelashes. Nearly everything else about drag had become second nature. Blending the foundation and rouge. Gluing down and covering up his natural eyebrows, then drawing on new ones. Contouring to round out the already less-than-rugged jawline. Even the waxing, plucking, and tweezing didn’t cause more than a wince every now and then. But the damned false eyelashes. Things weren’t supposed to get that close to a person’s eyes. The liner was bad enough, but stiff lashes jabbed and left behind a glue residue that stung the rest of the night, no matter what he did. He couldn’t even wear contacts, which was why his father had paid for corrective eye surgery for him more than ten years ago with money they didn’t have. Or maybe that was more due to his mom dying a few months before and his father needing to feel like he could fix something.

  Leaning toward the mirror, Zachary forced his eyes open. Sure enough, his right eye was already watering and bloodshot, which made the light green of his iris stand out like a beacon. If ManDonna was here, she’d tilt his head back and tend to his eye without smudging a speck of makeup. Not him; he’d have to redo the entire eye, and he still wouldn’t get it cleaned out good enough.

  There was a soft knock at the door, and it opened without a pause. Cody leaned in, swiping a lock of dark hair from his eyes. “Hey, Vahin sent me over with your nightly birthday cake shot.” He stepped all the way in, paused,
then shut the door, concern growing in his voice. “Are you okay? You’re crying.”

  Zachary reached for the drink. “No, I’m not. I just jabbed myself with a stupid eyelash.” After taking the shot glass from Cody, Zachary downed it in a gulp, not even savoring the sticky sweetness like he normally did. He wasn’t a big drinker, but ManDonna insisted they start each night off with a shot. She preferred Jäger or whiskey, both of which made Zachary want to throw up. By the fourth time, Vahin had come to the rescue and sent the birthday cake shot, which tasted like icing. It was heaven. He handed the glass back to Cody. “I might need a second of these tonight.”

  “Oh. Okay. I’ll go get one.” Cody started to turn, angling his shoulder to avoid hitting the dresses hanging in the narrow workspace, but Zachary reached out and grabbed his arm.

  “Actually, would you help me, please?” Zachary motioned to the vanity. “There’s a bottle of Visine in my makeup bag, the purple one. Would you do it for me? ManDonna normally does it. I can’t make myself put drops in.” He grimaced as some of the glue snagged his lashes again. “One second, let me try to clean this a little better first. And while I do that, would you please get another shot from Vahin. I thought I was kidding, but a second one is definitely called for.” He waved a hand at Cody while still looking in the mirror. “Oh, and would you let them know I’m going to be about fifteen minutes late but to put on some Demi, GaGa, or Britney. Something. ManDonna can go out there and work the crowd without any transition from sports to drag, but I can’t.”

  LESS THAN five minutes later, Zachary was blinking almost normally again. He inspected himself in the mirror once more.