He was in so tightly Woody couldn’t move either. Mack’s jaw clenched, back teeth ground together, he looked down at where they joined before dragging his gaze up.
Woody stared at him, his brown eyes clear and challenging, wanting and challenging. He was also lying submissively, his teeth bared, hanging onto his control, waiting for Mack to take charge. His I’ll Be Your Last
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penis throbbed and thickened deep inside. Always the aggressor with other men, he fucked them from behind. Face-to-face was too intimate.
Face-to-face was too profound. Son of a bitch! This isn’t intimate or profound or anything like love. No fucking way.
Mack let his angry fear lead him. He’d prove this was lust, desire for this man’s ass and cock. That’s all. It wasn’t better than any other man’s ass and cock. He pulled his hips back, biting down on his lip at the sensation, left the head of his dick poised, squeezed just inside Woody’s entrance.
“Please.”
That one begging word from Woody’s tight, straining throat roared through Mack’s body. He intended to fuck this man for as long and hard as he could, so neither would ever forget. “You’d better be ready.” He saw Woody’s lips move silently in another plea as Mack shoved back in, pumping steadily and slowly at first, then fast and frantic until he felt the liquid heat blast through the trail deep inside his scrotum to erupt from his cock in hot, powerful torrents.
Played out but still connected, Mack collapsed, trying to calm his heart rate and breathing. He didn’t worry about crushing Woody. The man was as big and strong as he was. Woody’s arms wrapped around him, legs around his calves, holding him in the first moment of peace he’d ever felt in another man’s arms.
Fuck! Got to get out of here. It was so much more than he could handle.
* * * *
Woody hadn’t missed the fact that Mack never relinquished control through the whole experience. His body ached and fizzed blissfully with what Mack and he had done, and that was all ruined by morning.
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Mack had run away in the middle of the night. No cuddling. No sleeping over. No sleeping at all.
Woody was through with it. He didn’t know why Mack seemed totally averse to a relationship. Maybe he’d been hurt in the past.
Maybe he just didn’t care enough about Woody. After all, Brad hadn’t. Running into his former lover the night before had hurt. His pain and vulnerability had opened him to another round with Mack.
But no more. He’d mistaken Mack’s look of desire for something deeper. Just because he wanted a relationship with another man and wanted a repeat with Mack didn’t mean Mack was the right man.
The cold and damp of early morning went right through his heavy jacket. He’d wrapped the cashmere scarf, a gift from his sister, around his neck and hustled toward the station. Damn, he hated a dreary, gray day like this. It made him feel lonesome.
Before he reached the station doors, Mack’s car swung into the parking lot. Hot sex notwithstanding, Mack’s leaving afterward, every time, infuriated him. He had feelings. He had feelings for Mack, but he wasn’t going to accept being dismissed. Not any longer. If that was all it meant to Mack, then fuck him. And not in a good way.
He strode toward Mack. They would have this out before going inside. “Penchant,” he growled and ignored Mack’s wary glance. “I don’t know what you think this is”—he flipped his forefinger back and forth between them—”but apparently it means a little more to me than it does to you. I don’t know what you’re used to, but I’m not some pickup, and I don’t like being treated like one.” Mack’s gaze was stone hard.
Woody felt himself losing control. It was likely he’d say things he’d regret later, but to hell with that. “‘I don’t know exactly what happened to you in the past, but I’m not into hit-and-run relationships.” He spit the words out as quietly as he could. No one else was in the parking lot at the moment, but he still couldn’t risk someone overhearing them. “Are you that self-absorbed?” I’ll Be Your Last
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Mack glared, lips tight, blue eyes sparkling. “I can’t give you what you’re obviously looking for. I’m not relationship material.”
“Damn it.” Woody swallowed back his frustration and anger.
“Why do you feel you’re not relationship material, Mack? I’m just curious. Because your mother wasn’t there for you?”
“I don’t need anyone there for me,” Mack snarled, turning as if to escape.
“That’s not true. Your fellow Marines were there for you.” Mack stopped, didn’t turn around, but he didn’t walk away.
“Your fellow cops are. I could be if you’d let me. You don’t have to be alone in this world, Mack.” He’d said all he could and certainly more than he’d meant to. It was up to Mack to listen. “One more thing. I’m still not into one-night stands no matter how much I’m tempted. Don’t try that again.” He glared at Mack a moment longer to make sure his message was clear, turned on his heel, and stalked away.
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Chapter Eleven
“Woody, do you know where Penchant is?” He stifled a sigh at Fred’s question. This was just wrong. He couldn’t work like this, always dreading the sight of Mack or the possibility of being teamed with him. He needed to make a decision about a transfer. “No,” he snapped, then decided he’d better chill.
“Haven’t seen him all day.”
“I need you to pick up these two.” Fred handed him mug shots.
“I’ll get someone else to team with. I have no idea where Mack is.”
“I don’t like this. He’s not answering his cell or his pager. Swing by his place and see if he’s there. If he’s not, let me know.” Son of a bitch, Woody fumed. Now he could add babysitting to his resume. And his niece, Evie, was much more pleasant to be with.
Woody drove down the street. Two-flats and low-rise apartment buildings lined each side. Pulling in next to the curb, he spotted Mack strolling easily along the sidewalk. Last night’s snow had been shoveled off the cement, but it looked like he had a big snowball at his feet.
Good Lord, it was a dog. Popping out of his car, he leaned back against the door, crossed his arms over his chest, and waited. Mack didn’t see him at first.
“Are you kidding me? It looks like you have one of my sister’s old fuzzy bedroom slippers there.”
Mack’s head came up, at first surprised, then obviously scowling at him. “Shut up.”
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Woody chuckled. “Is he yours?” Surely, he was walking the little white fluff ball for an old lady neighbor.
“Yeah, she’s mine. Got a problem with that?”
“Touchy, touchy, man. I’m just having a hard time seeing you with such a…” He didn’t think he’d better finish that sentence. Mack looked murderous.
“You weren’t supposed to see her.”
Woody took that as a sharp jab to the heart. It was pretty clear Mack had no intention of ever opening up. Not even to let on that he owned a dog. Stunned into silence, he listened as Mack explained.
“I got her from a shelter. She kind of picked me. I don’t know why,” he blurted abruptly.
The day was cold and clear with bright sun and a sky so blue it hurt your eyes. Woody couldn’t see Mack’s expression behind the aviators. “What’s her name?” he asked in a small voice, sensing it was the best way to keep Mack talking. Maybe this was the way into his heart.
“Kiki.”
“Kiki?” Woody squatted down and ruffled the hair over her neck and around her ears. “Sorry for calling you a bedroom slipper. You’re much cuter than that.”
“Yeah. She was four when I got her, and it was too late to change her name,” he added almost defensively.
“Is this why you leave so fast?” The words were out before he could stop them.
“Partly.”
Partly. Woody paused, but
Mack didn’t elaborate.
“I have to walk her around the block. She hasn’t done her business yet.”
“Okay.”
“Why are you here, Kane?”
“Oh, yeah. Fred tried to reach you. Don’t you have your phone?”
“Jesus. I’m off duty. It’s upstairs.”
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“Okay, okay. No big deal.”
“What’s going on?”
Woody pulled out the mug shots. “We have to pick these guys up.”
“Okay. Come on, Kiki. Be a good girl and get it done. I’ve got to get you home.”
This time Woody couldn’t hold back his laughter, and he was gratified to see Mack smile. He hoped that meant the world hadn’t come to an end because his care for his dog had been discovered. As they paced behind Kiki, Woody asked, “What do you mean she picked you?”
Mack took a deep breath, looked out toward the street for a moment, and said, “She came right up to me and squatted to take a piss.”
“Got your attention, I guess.”
“Yup. Luckily, I got away in time, but then she put her paws on my leg with her tail whipping madly back and forth until I picked her up.” He shook his head. “I don’t really know what made me go into the shelter. I could hear the barking inside when I walked by.”
“I could see you with a Labrador or a shepherd.”
“Too much alpha testosterone in one apartment.” Mack shrugged.
“That I can believe. With this one, I think she’s top dog.”
“Yup,” Mack agreed. “No doubt about that, huh Kiki?” Woody, even though he’d sworn off thinking about a relationship with Mack, was thoroughly charmed by their few moments walking the dog. It felt good. No pressure, no sexual tension. Dare he think it could be friendship?
He waited in the car while Kiki was settled back in her apartment.
Mack took the passenger seat armed, cell phoned up, and ready to roll. “Do the other guys know about her?”
“No, and they’re not going to, are they?” he responded with a menacing glance.
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Woody had no real explanation for it, but knowing this little bit more about Mack felt good. He still wanted him but was beginning to think they could keep it at a friendship level. No sex. Yeah. No, that’s not going to work.
* * * *
Mack leaned his butt against his car in the station house parking lot and sipped his caramel macchiato. Big, fat snowflakes floated through the air in idle spirals. They weren’t too heavy this early in the day, and he hoped they’d slow down so people could get to their Thanksgiving dinners without accident. This day was generally relatively quiet with less traffic than usual and little crime. Black Friday changed all that, but it was still a whole day away. So he hoped to enjoy a peaceful day while it lasted.
He’d volunteered to change shifts with Rich, so he could spend the day with his family. It was better to be busy than to dwell on never having a normal kind of holiday. Or maybe that was bad, too.
He was very much aware that he lived his life on the surface, pushing deep thoughts away. It was easy to do in this job. Spending so much time responding to other people’s problems kept his on the back burner. Where they stayed safely out of sight and mind.
What was going on in his life right now was unwelcome. His thoughts strayed too often to Kane. Woody met life head-on. When they’d been together, what he wanted was written plainly on his face.
Normally, he didn’t watch the expressions of his partners during sex.
Normally, he was behind them anyway. But Woody’s glazed eyes and straining neck muscles had given him an odd sort of satisfaction.
Even if he, himself, didn’t want to feel anything but pure release, he still found watching Woody’s pleasure rewarding.
Another car pulled into the parking lot, dragging Mack out of his thoughts. Time to get to work. He waited for Sam Cooley to climb out of his vehicle, and they ambled toward the back door together. The 92
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other man wasn’t much of a talker, so there’d be quiet from his desk.
But he was grateful for Cooley’s presence.
“Shouldn’t be too busy today,” Sam offered.
“Nah. I’ll catch up on paperwork.”
“I need to wash out one of my drawers. I spilled pop yesterday.” Mack’s laugh cut off fast when he spotted Woody already at his desk. “‘Lo,” he mumbled. Damn. Just what he didn’t need.
“Woody,” Sam called. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going to your dad’s.”
How does Sam know so much about him?
“I thought I’d take a shift for someone with a wife and kids,” Woody replied. “Besides, my dad’s coming in later with his girlfriend.”
Mack kept his head down but still watched Woody surreptitiously.
He’d make himself scarce when Dad got there. Right now he actually wished for a crime to call them out. He didn’t like this pity party he seemed to be wallowing in. He got going on his paperwork, went out twice for coffee, and the day passed nicely. Until three o’clock.
The older man he’d seen with Woody at the restaurant walked into the squad room.
“Hey, guys, I’d like you to meet my dad, Charles.” This was a time Mack really hated the small confines of the space.
There was no escaping. He forced himself to look interested. Now that he saw the man close up, he didn’t know how he hadn’t realized he was related to Woody and not a date. Except for gray hair on the older man, they resembled each other quite a lot.
Charles shook hands with Sam, then gave Mack a long, scrutinizing stare. Mack gazed stubbornly back. He almost laughed at Charles’s protectiveness. Glancing at Woody, he caught his warily curious expression. Apparently, he wasn’t quite sure what his dad might do or say to Mack.
“It’s good to meet you, Mack.”
“Thank you, sir. Same here.”
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“My friend, Samantha Greer.”
“Ma’am.” Mack nodded. She was a pretty woman in her forties, he’d have guessed, and looked like the mothering type. She fit with the rest of Woody’s family the way he didn’t. Shit, he hated holidays.
This year, in particular, his emotions felt raw, when he didn’t want to feel anything.
“This is the first time she’s been in a police station.”
“Well, it’s a good thing she’s only here to visit and not in trouble with the law.”
Samantha’s husky laugh made Mack chuckle, too.
“I hear you’re a Marine.”
That was a surprise. Woody must have told him. “Yes, sir.”
“Me, too. Seventy-eight to eighty-two. I was only in four years.” Charles smiled. “It was still the toughest time of my life, but Semper Fi.”
“That’s for sure. I was in ninety-three to twenty-oh-one.” Thoughts flew through Mack’s head. Semper Fi. It had been the first time in his life he’d felt like he belonged somewhere. It was the first time he’d known what pride meant.
He was aware that Charles Kane probably knew some of what was going on between his son and him, which made him uneasy. Feelings in him were breaking through to the surface, breaking into his heart, and he was honestly scared.
“We’ve got Thanksgiving dinner prepped for anyone who’d like to come over after shift,” Charles announced, nodding at the guys in the squad room.
The back of Mack’s neck prickled. Ahh—Woody’s dad’s house.
A holiday dinner with a family, Woody’s family in particular. Being around people who loved each other? The thought of that squeezed his heart. He slowly sat in his chair, shifting his eyes over the papers on his desk, wondering if anyone thought he was really busy.
“Sam, you available?” asked Woody.
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Fred strolled into the squad room. “Everything quiet, boys?”
“Hey, Fred, meet my dad, Charles, and his friend Samantha.” Charles shook hands. “I just invited everyone over for some dinner after shift. You in?”
“Sorry, can’t. Goin’ to the ex-wife’s to see the kids.”
“Mack? How about you? You have other plans?” He glanced at Woody. Are you crazy? Finally, after he realized they were awkwardly waiting for his reply, he said, “I don’t want to intrude on a family dinner.”
Woody sidled over to his desk, and, leaning down, murmured softly, “Mack, come on over. It doesn’t mean we’re going to the prom. Just come over as a friend.”
Shocked at the humor in Woody’s voice, Mack’s gaze jerked up to him and was doubly surprised to see the twinkle in his eyes. They traded glances for a quick moment. What could he do? To turn the invite down would be rude at this point. “Sure, I can come. Thanks, Charles.” Shit. This might be one of the worst decisions I ever made.
“Sarge, you’ve got our cell numbers if anything breaks on the Sanchez thing, right?”
“Sure do, Woody,” Fred responded. “Have a good dinner.”
“Great.” Charles rubbed his hands together. “It’ll be us and Molly and Evie, Woody’s sister and her daughter.” Oh, great. More relatives. And a kid.
“Come over after shift. Woody can give you directions.” That’s how Mack found himself sitting in the sister’s living room, ensconced on a very comfortable couch, a beer in one hand, and his other arm around the shoulders of a four-year-old girl.
“Are you a policeman, too, like Uncle Woody?” Evie asked him.
“Yes, ma’am, I am.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
Mack could hear his own gulp as well as snickers behind him. In the living room facing the fireplace, his back was to the kitchen doorway. He had a feeling he had an audience. “No, ma’am.” I’ll Be Your Last
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