by Andrew Grey
Tristan leaned over and asked what was happening. Harry whispered back for him to just listen. This affected him, and Harry didn’t want to cut him out. He also didn’t want to interrupt Bull with an explanation. “I’ll explain it all later,” he added.
“Good,” Bull said to Ken. “Then we understand each other, because you have a leak in the department.”
Ken nearly dropped his beer. “No way. What sort of leak?”
“We believe that Eddie Menendez has someone in the department working for him.” Bull glanced toward the door and then back at Ken. “The only reason we’re having this conversation is because we believe you aren’t involved.”
“Well, that’s good, but how do you know?” The bemused smile had slipped from his lips.
“One thing is the security video that went missing of one of Menendez’s associates. You can’t tell me that happens a lot. The second is the evidence that disappeared in Menendez’s own case a little while ago. Also, Harry and I shared an uncomfortable lunch with him at the café where Tristan works,” Bull tilted his head slightly. “And he hinted at such. It wouldn’t have meant anything if we hadn’t already suspected there was something going on. Besides, the man has an ego the size of Montana. It’s important for him to show he has power, and a cop in his pocket is power.”
“You should report what you —”
Bull raised his hand to stop him. “No. We have all we can handle to manage our club and protect the people we care about from this asshole. Tristan dated Eddie and left once he found out who and what he really was. We’re keeping him safe, and that’s what we’ll continue to do. You need to investigate this quietly and see if what we think is true.”
“I have to report this….” Ken sighed and stared at his beer. “Dammit. Do you have any idea who it is?”
“No. I’ve never heard a name, and the only reason we’re talking to you is because we figure since you got the replacement video and were concerned enough to make sure Carlos Garcia was prosecuted that it couldn’t be you. But other than that, who the hell knows?” Bull stood up. “This conversation is the extent of our involvement. We have a business to run. If we hear anything, we’ll get word to you.” Bull turned and left the table. Harry saw Ken’s gaze follow him as he went.
“Damn,” he said under his breath, and Harry stifled a smile. “Is he…?”
“Bull is seeing my friend Zach,” Tristan said.
“Oh,” Ken said, and Zach scowled in their direction. “I take it that’s Zach.”
“Yeah. They’re amazingly protective of each other.” Harry was starting to understand just how they felt. “Excuse me. I need to check on a few things. Please feel free to stick around.”
“You can join us if you like,” Tristan offered with a wicked smile. “I promise to protect you from Zach.”
Harry loved that Tristan was teasing and could make jokes.
“Thanks, but I think I can take care of myself. I’ve been in a few knife fights and bitch-slap contests. I can hold my own.” Man, this guy was going to fit right in with that group. Harry watched as they joined the group, and then he made his rounds of the floor, watching and greeting patrons—it was his chance to glad-hand and stay in touch with the clientele. If they were unhappy, he needed to know. Once he’d gone through the room, he settled along the wall near the office and remained out of the way, simply watching as the boys danced. A short while ago he would have been entranced by the way they moved. Now he saw them as dancers, almost faceless, as his gaze continued to wander to where Tristan sat with his friends. More than once he saw him looking back, and they exchanged smiles across the room.
Tristan made his way across the floor, and Harry watched, enthralled with each step as he moved to the music. Tristan wasn’t dancing as much as swaying as he made his way over.
“Will you dance with me, Harry?”
“You want me to?” Harry began, and Tristan took his hand. “I don’t really dance.”
Tristan laughed, deep and throaty. “You own a nightclub, and you don’t dance. That makes as much sense as a teetotaler owning a brewery.” Tristan tugged, and Harry went along with him, unable to find the willpower to stop. At the edge of the moving mass of men, Tristan stopped and moved closer to him. “Just go with the beat,” Tristan instructed, moving that lithe little body of his. Harry stood stock-still, gaze glued to the gyrations of Tristan’s hips. Tristan moved closer, placed his hands on Harry’s hips, and moved them back and forth. Without thinking, Harry mirrored Tristan’s movements.
“I feel kind of silly,” Harry confessed. “I was never very good at this.”
Tristan moved even closer. “Think of it as making love standing up and with your clothes on. It’s supposed to be sexy and intimate. Even in a room full of people, the only one who matters is the person you’re dancing with.” Tristan continued dancing, throwing his entire body into the motion.
Harry groaned as images of Tristan in bed, rolling his hips and throwing his head back in unabashed passion, ripped through his mind. He nearly faltered. Hell, he wanted to watch Tristan dance all night, and yet he desperately wanted off the floor, but he couldn’t have both, so he moved as best he could, tugging Tristan to him.
“That’s it,” Tristan said.
“I still don’t think I’m good at this.”
Tristan leaned in close. “Oh, I think you’re a fucking natural.”
Harry closed his eyes and tried to will away images of him showing Tristan just how fucking natural he could be. Damn, Harry’s willpower was faltering, and the reasons for waiting seemed so much less important now. It had to be his lust-addled mind, but he kept telling himself that Tristan was hurt and scared. “Tristan…,” he growled, doing his best imitation of Bull. He hadn’t really meant to, but it just came out. “What are you doing?”
Without stopping the smooth sway of his hips, Tristan backed up and turned around. Harry groaned, a sound loud enough that it cut through the music and reached the people around him as Tristan put on a show, swinging his little butt back and forth like a sex-driven metronome. Tristan swung around, using his hips for momentum, and Harry could barely breathe. When their gazes met, Harry saw Tristan roll his eyes and then move closer once again.
“If you can’t figure it out, then there isn’t much hope for you,” Tristan said. He slipped his arms around Harry’s shoulders and pressed against him.
The man was sex on a stick, and all thoughts of going slowly flew from his mind. He had been trying to back away for Tristan’s sake, in an attempt to ensure he wasn’t taking advantage of him and that what seemed to be happening between them wasn’t just the excitement of everything with Eddie. But it hit him like a thunderbolt that he’d really been protecting himself. He could say what he wanted about staying away for Tristan’s sake, but in reality he was afraid that beautiful, hot, and amazing Tristan would realize just how ordinary and boring Harry was.
Tristan turned in his arms. Harry’s desire, which had been on high simmer, kicked over to a boil. He tugged Tristan to him, grinding his raging erection against Tristan’s butt, and did his best to match his movements. He slipped his arms around Tristan’s chest, holding him closer, breathing in his scent.
He let Tristan guide their movements, the smaller man grinding back against him. It took him a few minutes to realize that a small space had formed around them. Tristan seemed to realize he was putting on a bit of a show and ramped it up. Harry wanted to step off the floor, but Tristan moved faster, lifting his arms over his head, touching Harry’s hair. Then slowly, without lowering his arms, he turned, grinding their hips together, hard and furious. Harry groaned low and deep because if Tristan kept this up, he was going to need to tug Tristan into the office, and he did not want the first time they were together to be Tristan splayed out on top of his desk. He deserved better than that, but, damn, the image of Tristan lying on his desk, legs in the air, eyes shining with passion, body covered in sweat as he—Harry stopped the thought like a need
le on a record. He grabbed Tristan’s hips, stilling them, their movement finally coming to a stop. “You have to stop, sweetheart.”
“Why?”
Harry leaned closer, holding Tristan tight as he breathed into his ear. “Because two more seconds, and I’m going to fuck you right here, right now.”
“What if that’s what I want?” Tristan retorted breathily.
Harry pulled him closer, moving his hips slightly in order to fully demonstrate what Tristan had done to him. “No. You deserve better than that.” Harry stopped, and the lust-induced fog lifted from his mind. “I deserve more than that.” He locked his gaze on Tristan. “Is that why you’re doing this, just for the sex?”
Tristan stepped back and gaped at him. “But I thought….”
Harry glanced around and tugged Tristan toward the door to the office area. He stepped inside the back hallway and closed the door, blocking out most of the sound from the club. “You thought what?”
“That you… I saw the way you go home with guys from the club. I figured that’s what you wanted, so I don’t understand why you don’t want to be with me. Am I not the kind of guy you like?”
They’d had this conversation before, but obviously he hadn’t gotten the point across. “The only reason I went home with those other guys was because you weren’t available. I’ve watched you and wished I could approach you almost since the first day you came in the club with Zach.” He rested his hands on Tristan’s shoulder. He sighed. “I used to sit in my office sometimes and watch you dancing on the cameras because I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
Tristan smiled slightly. “So you really care about me and don’t think of me as another of those club boys?”
Harry scoffed. “You are anything but another club boy. I haven’t wanted to rush into anything because you deserve to be treated better than that. I want our first time together to be special, and if that’s tonight, so be it.” He paused to make sure he didn’t mess this up. “But I don’t want it to be because you’re just looking to get laid.” Maybe if that was what Tristan wanted, he should just do it and take what he could get. But Harry really wanted it all and was willing to wait for that.
“Of course I want more than that,” Tristan said, as though Harry had just uttered the stupidest thing possible. “Jeremy and Zach are super happy, and it’s hard to be around them because they have it all. I want that too.” Tristan turned away. “I thought I had that once.”
Harry nodded. That was what he’d been afraid of. If Tristan was doubting himself, he would also doubt any relationship he started, and for Harry to get so close to what he wanted and have it fall apart would devastate him. “But I guess what you have to ask is: Do you want to try to have that with me?”
Tristan’s smile stretched to his ears. “Yeah,” he said. “So does that mean you’ll stop all this damsel-in-distress crap and just be yourself? I mean, I can feel the energy rolling off you.”
Harry widened his eyes in disbelief.
“And I felt what you really want,” Tristan continued. “That was fucking obvious.”
“I was being thoughtful and trying not to take advantage of you,” Harry protested.
“That attitude alone is enough to tell me that you won’t, so knock it off. I’m a young man, and I have needs….” The emphasis on the last word nearly cracked Harry up. He could give Tristan a dissertation on how bad his needs were as they related to Tristan, but they’d talked enough, and it was time for action, so he leaned forward and kissed Tristan with all the pent-up lust and passion that had built up over the past year. He feasted on Tristan’s mouth, pressing him back against the door, hoping like hell no one tried to get in because it wasn’t going to happen, at least for a while.
By the time he backed away, Harry was short of breath, and Tristan looked about ready to slide down the door in a heap. Harry steadied him until Tristan could stand and then tugged him close again, holding him, letting Tristan’s warmth seep through his clothes. “I think you should go back out with your friends, and I’d better go back to work.” Harry released Tristan and backed away, but not before inhaling his rich scent one last time. “We need to leave or….” Harry didn’t finish the sentence. He simply opened the door and motioned Tristan back out into the club. He didn’t dare describe what would happen— it would only act as additional temptation.
Harry followed Tristan out, made sure the door was closed and locked, and then took a deep breath, watching as Tristan joined the writhing crowd of dancers. Then, inhaling the prevailing scent of sweat, alcohol, and men that had seeped into the very walls, he began making his way through the club, adding his set of eyes to the others looking for trouble.
Thankfully, on the trouble front, the evening was surprisingly quiet: no dealers plying their wares, no one trying to steal from the register or run out on their tab. Harry did notice that Officer Douglas spent the entire evening sitting with Zach, Tristan, and company, which Harry was thankful for. If anything did happen, at least the guys would be safe. He had no idea why he’d been jumpy and expected trouble all evening, but he was thrilled when they locked up the club at the end of the night and all his anticipation had been for nothing.
“Why was Rodney watching you all night long?” Tristan asked after he’d handed him a cup of coffee.
Harry sighed. “He and I had a one-night stand a few weeks ago. It was okay, but he seems to think it was a life-changing experience and is interested in repeating it. I’m not,” Harry added for emphasis. “The thing is, he simply isn’t letting things go.” He truly was going to have to have a talk with him and set things straight.
“Okay,” Tristan muttered.
Harry followed Tristan’s gaze to the bar, where Rodney and Chuck were finishing up. Sure enough, Rodney was watching him; however, by the firm set of his jaw, it was clear that Rodney had gotten the message and was none too happy about it. Fuck. Well, he’d made his bed, and now he was going to have to clean up the proverbial come-stained sheets.
“I’m not interested in him,” Harry said as he turned away. “Rodney is a nice enough guy, but he doesn’t make my heart race or make me want to kick everyone out of this place so I can close up and get the hell out of here. He was company for an evening, not for a lifetime.” He hoped that got his point across.
“Let’s get out of here,” Bull bellowed through the room. Everyone worked faster, and Harry cleared the registers and took the cash into the office, where he locked it in the safe. He made sure all the paperwork was secure, then closed and locked the office door and worked his way back to the club. Just before leaving, he set the alarm in that portion of the building.
By the time he was done, Bull had let out most of the other employees. Bull and Zach joined him and Tristan, and they left the club. Bull set the alarm and locked up before stepping out into the night.
“Did Kevin go home with Jeremy and Spook?” Bull asked.
“Yes,” Zach answered. “But I think he’s getting tired of staying there and wants to go home. How long do you think they should stay away from the apartment?” Zach alternated looking at both of them. “It isn’t like Kevin can stay with them forever.”
Harry had no idea and hoped Bull could come up with some answer.
“Tell him through the weekend. If things stay quiet, then I think it should be safe.” Bull didn’t sound convincing, but Harry didn’t have a better answer. If they wanted his opinion, he thought Tristan was just fine as things were, and he could continue sleeping at his place, preferably in his bed, for as long as he damn well pleased. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” Bull put his arm around Zach’s shoulder, and they started down the sidewalk. Harry took Tristan’s hand and led him to where he’d parked the car.
He checked as they went, making sure no one was hanging around. It was their usual procedure, especially since it was nearly three in the morning. Harry unlocked the car and they got inside. He started the car, rolled down the windows to let in the fresh night air, and began the dr
ive home with Tristan’s hand resting lightly on his thigh. He could not get home fast enough.
He drove over the Susquehanna, picking up speed, his heart pounding in his ears. He should be tired after a long day, but he was wide-awake and fully aware of the tiny drumming of Tristan’s fingers against his jeans. The roads were deserted, and his foot got heavier and heavier, the car speeding up. It seemed like forever before he pulled into his driveway. Harry pulled to a stop, turned off the engine, and released a deep breath. Then he turned to Tristan, his deep eyes shining back at him. Harry leaned closer and watched as Tristan did the same. Their lips met, tentatively at first.
The leather seat creaked slightly under him as Harry shifted his weight, sliding his fingers through Tristan’s soft hair, deepening the kiss. He had no intention of doing anything in the car, but he didn’t want to move either. The kiss was amazing—soft and firm, hot and sexy, deep and rich all at the same time. Harry pulled away, blinking a few times to refocus his vision. Tristan sighed softly, and his lips curled into a contented smile. He straightened up and opened his door, then got out of the car. He waited for Tristan to walk around, took his hand, and they walked together toward the house.
Harry unlocked the door, and they stepped inside. He felt Tristan tense beside him as Butterscotch raced up to them, scolding loudly. That sound meant only one thing: her food dish was empty. “It’s all right. She’s just hungry.”
“She sounds mad,” Tristan said, moving slightly behind Harry.
“She is, because I didn’t feed her enough this morning.” Harry released Tristan’s hand and walked toward the kitchen with Butterscotch scolding him the entire time. He fed her and made sure she had water and listened to her crunch her food as he joined Tristan in the living room. “Go on up to bed. I’ll lock up and make sure the house is secure. Then I’ll be right up.”
Tristan looked toward the kitchen as Butterscotch crunched away and then turned and climbed the stairs. Harry watched him go and then hurriedly checked all the doors to make sure the house was secure. He gave Butterscotch a few strokes as he passed through the kitchen and then went upstairs, stopping to set the alarm.
