by K. L. Hiers
Cypress sat down on the edge of the bed, taking Tom’s hand. “You mean like Junior?”
“Ugh, yes.” Tom made a face. “We worked together, he was attractive, and it all made sense until it didn’t. It’s so hard to meet people, and I really thought it would work. Now I’m starting to think the only reason I believed that is because he asked me out first.”
“Since he showed the initiative?”
“Right.” Tom frowned. “I worry that I’m doing that with you.”
“What?”
“Going for convenience.”
“Sucking me off at your work was convenient?”
“Well, it was better than you snitching on me.” Tom laughed softly, squeezing Cypress’s hand. “It made sense in some really crazy way. It was easy… and… I liked you. And you, you woke up something in me I didn’t even know I had.”
“I did,” Cypress said proudly.
“Oh, bullshit.”
“Do you remember what I said that day? About what I thought you looked like?”
“That I needed a hard fuck and a spanking?”
“Right.” Cypress kissed Tom’s hand. “May have been a little in the moment when I told you that.”
“So, what was the truth?” Tom sat up a little, propping himself on the plush pillows behind him.
“I thought you looked like a tiger in a zoo,” Cypress replied, holding up his hand for Tom to give him a chance to explain. “They’re incredible predators, and no matter how nice the zoo is, you can tell they’re tired of being fed. No, they want to hunt. They want to go tearing ass through the jungle and take down their prey, not have it given to them on a platter.
“That’s what I see when I look at you. Deep inside, you want to be free to fuckin’ hunt, and you’ve been keeping yourself all caged up. You have no idea what to do with all this energy and passion that’s burning inside of you, but when you do? You’re going to be fuckin’ fierce.”
“You… you really thought all of that?” Tom was stunned by such an amazing compliment, and he didn’t know how to respond for several seconds. He could tell by the way Cypress was looking at him so intently that he meant every word. “I mean, you barely ever even saw me. We never talked.”
“I saw you plenty, heard you more.” Cypress snorted. “I would hear you talking about your latest cases, how proud you were but always so quick to be humble when someone tried to compliment you. I heard you arguing this one time with Gerald that, yeah, as a matter of fact, you could fix that shotgun suicide for a viewing, and you couldn’t believe that he agreed after he walked out.”
Tom gulped. “You really heard all of that stuff?”
“Heard it all from the garage.” Cypress grinned. “You guys really need to keep that hallway door shut, by the way.”
“Shit. Yeah.”
“There is a fierce beast in you, Tom,” Cypress went on, kissing his hand again. “Like I told you before, you’re capable of some incredible things when you’re put on the spot. Use that energy. Don’t be afraid of it. There’s nothing wrong with owning it and going after the things you want.”
“And if I wanted you?”
“Me?”
“If I wanted you, just you, without any of this stupid blackmail bullshit?”
Cypress didn’t say anything, but he seemed to be thinking.
Tom’s determination was now fueled by Cypress’s earlier encouragement. He could be a tiger. He could totally do this. “I want something real,” he insisted. “We talked about dating before, right? I mean, is that what we’re doing now? Are we dating?”
“You know I work late all the time—”
“So do I.”
“And I don’t get many days off—”
“Uh, hello, ditto.”
Cypress was only briefly hesitant, replying firmly, “I like you, Tom. I really do. But if you want to move forward with this, I need all our cards on the table.”
“Okay?” Tom frowned.
“Who was making you sell the formaldehyde?” Cypress asked, still holding Tom’s hand and stroking his palm with his thumb.
Tom’s blood froze.
Cypress seemed to have been expecting his silence and said, “When you feel like you can trust me with that, then maybe we can date. Sharing my bed, yeah, that takes some trust for both of us. But sharing my life? That’s another level.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you,” Tom said urgently, his nerves taking over and driving the tiger away with its tail between its legs. “It’s just… I…”
“You don’t know if you trust me yet either,” Cypress said, letting go of Tom’s hand with a warm smile. “It’s okay, Tom. I’m not going anywhere, you know. We can take our time. Baby steps, okay?”
“Yeah.” Tom tried to smile back. “Okay.”
Cypress returned from his closet in a pair of black sweats, throwing a pair of flannel pajama pants at Tom. “Here. Gets a little cool in here at night.”
“Thank you.” Tom knew he had some pajamas in his bag, but there was a certain thrill in wearing something of Cypress’s. He wiggled the pants up, finding them loose and comfortable. He reached into the pockets and turned them inside out before shuffling under the covers.
Cypress turned off the lights, the room now only illuminated by the streetlamps filtering in through the windows. He came to bed then, sliding in behind Tom and kissing his shoulder. “Mm, you really were incredible tonight.”
Tom smiled as Cypress’s arms curled around him. “Mm, so were you. I had a really great time. And dinner was unbelievable.”
“Thank you.”
“Is it crazy if I want to see you again tomorrow?” Tom asked, instantly regretting it. He was trying way too hard now.
“Maybe a little.” Cypress chuckled low. “I already have plans tomorrow, though.” He paused, nuzzling his beard into the crook of Tom’s shoulder. “Unless you’d be interested in coming with me.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a house party,” Cypress said. “Yes, it’s that kind of party. You could meet my friends, see the scene. Think of it as an act of trust. These things are very private, and you’re gonna see some shit.”
“If I go with you, we don’t have to do anything, do we?” Tom felt unease crawling up the back of his neck. “Like… sex?”
“No,” Cypress replied. “I’m going for drinks and to catch up with some people. I didn’t have any plans to play. We’ll only do that if you want to.”
“Okay,” Tom said, reaching down to take Cypress’s hand to ease his anxiety.
It was just a party at someone’s house, a super-secret sex party where people would be doing God knows what.
“Doors open at nine o’clock, close at a quarter after.” Cypress stifled a yawn before continuing, “You need to be ready by no later than eight-thirty so we can get there on time. Once the doors close, that’s it.”
“Really? It’s that… strict?”
“There’s rules for these things. Need your ID since it’ll be your first time, have to leave your phone out in the car, any bag you bring in has to be checked, stuff like that.”
“Seriously?” Tom was surprised there were so many restrictions. “Wait, why no phones?”
“No cameras of any kind allowed. These are private events. People don’t want pictures of themselves doing their thing floating around out there, you know?”
“Right. Yeah.”
“Text me tomorrow, let me know if you want to go.”
“Okay, sure.”
“Sleep sweetly, Tom.”
“Good night, Cypress. Thank you.”
“Mmhm.”
Tom fidgeted. “Hey, Cypress?”
“Mm?”
“What do I wear?”
Cypress laughed, kissing Tom’s shoulder sweetly. “Whatever you want. Now go to sleep.”
“Right. Got it.” Tom still had a thousand more questions to ask about what exactly was appropriate dress for this kind of event, but his body was
too tired, and it won out over his restless brain.
He slept long and hard, not even waking up until his alarm was going off the next morning.
Ugh, what time was it?
He blearily stared at his phone, grumbling when he saw it was six in the morning. He’d forgotten he had to get up earlier than normal to take Mister Doodles back home before going into work.
Tom took a few moments to enjoy the lingering scent of Cypress on all the bedclothes, running his hands over his body as he started to feel the urge to replay some particularly vivid parts of last night’s carnal adventures through his brain.
No, shit. He didn’t have time.
His first stop was the master bathroom, a large, tiled room with a giant claw-footed tub, a spacious shower, and a double vanity with elegantly framed mirrors hanging over each sink.
One sink was already occupied with Cypress’s toiletries, and Tom smiled when he saw his own neatly lined up beside the other. Everything was here except his cologne. He groaned loudly, realizing he must have left it back at his house.
There were a few bottles on Cypress’s side of the sink, and Tom gave them a few quick sniffs. He paused when he found the one he knew, warm and citrusy. He borrowed a few sprays and enjoyed the familiar scent. He said his affirmations all three times, including the new one, and left to finish getting ready.
He got dressed, quickly made the bed, and gathered up the rest of his belongings. He took Mister Doodles for a quick walk, and then headed home to drop her off. He had hoped he would see Cypress to say goodbye but hadn’t seen any trace of him.
After getting Mister Doodles settled back at the house and giving her breakfast, he dragged himself out to his car to drive to work. He had undoubtedly enjoyed his evening with Cypress last night, but next time, they were definitely staying at Tom’s house because those extra thirty minutes of sleep would have been wonderful.
He swung through a drive-through to get some coffee, his freshly caffeinated brain waking up and demanding answers for questions he wasn’t ready for.
Was he really going to go to this party? Was everyone there going to be naked like it was some kind of orgy? Was he being a prude about all of this or was it normal to be a little weirded out?
Cypress had said they didn’t have to participate, but Tom didn’t know if he was comfortable with even being there period. Cypress was placing so much faith in him by even inviting him to this exclusive event, and Tom didn’t want to refuse such a gift.
Shit.
Maybe he should have told Cypress the truth about Junior. He had trusted Cypress with his most intimate parts—why not this?
Because there’s still a chance he might use you like Junior did. Because there’s a chance this isn’t all a sexy game, and he still really wants to turn you in. You could go to jail, you could lose your license, you could lose everything…
Tom sighed heavily as he parked behind the funeral home, staying in his seat to sip some more coffee while he tried to get his thoughts together.
There was a knock at his window, and he nearly spilled his coffee. He grimaced when he saw it was Aaron waving at him, and he got out of his car. “Hey, good morning.”
“Good morning,” Aaron said. “You okay? It’s almost eight.”
“Yeah, I’m good.” Tom began to follow Aaron inside the funeral home. So much for having a few minutes to think.
“Did you see the news last night?” Aaron asked urgently.
“What? Uh, no. I was out.”
“Another family got robbed,” Aaron replied, keeping his voice low. “This makes eight.”
“Shit.” Tom frowned as he punched in the code for the back door. “And now it’s on the news?”
“Yup, someone called them, and they’re talking all about Crosby-Ayers, and ah, shit.” Aaron looked up to the street. “And now they’re here.”
There were two local news vans slowly pulling up to the front of the funeral home.
“Shit.” Tom saw one of the van doors opening and immediately ducked inside the funeral home with Aaron close behind.
“Great,” Aaron moaned. “There goes the whole fuckin’ business. Everybody totally thinks if we take care of your loved one, you’re gonna get a bonus burglary free of charge.”
“No, come on,” Tom soothed. “I mean, maybe it won’t be that bad. I’m sure Gerald and Mr. Crosby are on it and everything is okay.”
When they walked into the office, it was immediately obvious that absolutely nothing was okay.
“I want to know where Miss Cordelia is—” Mr. Crosby was arguing with all the insolence of an angry child.
“She died of breast cancer in 1997!” Earl howled miserably, the sound muffled as his face was firmly smothered down on the top of his desk.
“Oh, that’s a shame. Did we send a nice arrangement?”
“Listen to me, both of you,” Gerald hissed, his pale face flushed a startling shade of red. “The most important thing we can do right now is close ranks. No one is to breathe a word to the press, and we tell all our families that their privacy is of the utmost importance to every single one of us. Whatever the media is insinuating is ridiculous.”
“It’s preposterous!” Mr. Crosby agreed passionately. “No one employed in this establishment would dare forget Miss Cordelia’s funeral.”
“We didn’t!” Earl argued, lifting his head with a long-suffering sigh. “You were a pallbearer, sir.”
Gerald ignored them both, turning his beady eyes on Tom and Aaron. “You two. Sit down, shut up. And so help me God if I find out one of you are the bastards who decided to call the news—!”
“No, never—!” Aaron tried to protest.
“We wouldn’t, sir!” Tom pleaded.
“Oh, shut the fuck up!” Gerald spat, waving at them to sit down. He took out his handkerchief and started dabbing his forehead. “Of course not. Neither one of you have the spine for subterfuge. Hmmph.”
Tom noticed Junior was absent but didn’t dare ask where he was.
“Now,” Gerald said, taking a deep breath, “we only have two new calls. One is a Mrs. Hudson, died in hospice last night. Aaron, you’ll take that one. The other is a Mr. Ross, pending release at the medical examiner’s office. I’ll call the family, see if I can find out what happened. Earl, you call the ME’s office and find out when the body will be released.
“I cannot stress the importance of not speaking to the press. Even if you feel the need to defend yourself or your place of work, don’t. We are going to cooperate with the authorities and let them handle this. We have nothing to hide, but this is an absolute nightmare for our reputation. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Tom and Aaron mumbled in unison.
“Get to work.”
Tom scrambled back to the prep room as quickly as he could, cleaning and sterilizing until Aaron brought him the embalming permission for Mrs. Hudson. She did well during the procedure, and he opted to do his paperwork in the prep room. He wanted to avoid the tense atmosphere of the office.
Everyone was on edge, and even Mr. Crosby’s benign confusion was beginning to border on agitation.
And still, Tom wondered, where was Junior?
Tom’s suspicion of his involvement in all of this was only growing, and he wondered if he should talk to Fox about it.
Hey, I think my ex-whatever might be breaking into all those people’s houses? Oh, why do I think that? Well, you see, he was making me sell embalming fluid…
No, that was stupid.
Besides, Tom had bigger problems to worry about, like whether or not he was going with Cypress to the party.
“I don’t know what to do, Mrs. Hudson,” he said with a forlorn sigh, glancing to the dead woman he’d prepped earlier. “I mean, should I just go for it? Life’s too short, all that?”
Naturally, Mrs. Hudson didn’t reply, but Tom decided to be bold. Cypress had said he was a tiger, after all. A tiger wouldn’t be scared about some party. It would be eager for the c
hance to hunt and play…
The mere thought of all the naughty possibilities made him shiver.
“Fuck it.”
He confirmed his plan to attend the party with Cypress and hoped his nerves would be in better shape by the end of the day.
It was just a party.
A sex party.
God, when did his life become so insane?
Five o’clock came, and Tom left in a hurry. He had plenty of time to get ready for tonight, but he was antsy. He had to keep convincing himself that he’d made the right decision agreeing to go out tonight. He saw one of the news vans still waiting outside on the street, and he hurried into the rear parking lot before anyone could see him.
No sooner had he turned the corner, he felt a strong hand grabbing his arm, jerking him up against the side of the funeral home. He pushed back, gritting his teeth when he saw who had attacked him. “Junior!”
“Did you fuckin’ say anything, huh?” Junior demanded, reaching for him again. “I know you talked to that cop yesterday. I know you did.”
“Get the fuck off me!” Tom snapped, pushing Junior away again more forcefully.
It was enough to make Junior teeter, and Tom could see that he looked pale and his eyes were as big as saucers. He could only assume Junior was under the influence of something.
“Did you or did you not?” Junior got right in his face.
“No! Why would I?” Tom hissed. “Where the hell were you today? Have you just been waiting in the parking lot all of this time to jump me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Junior sneered, stepping back and smoothing a hand through his hair. “Look, with all this shit going on, you better stay fuckin’ quiet about the embalming fluid.”
“That’s fuckin’ rich since you were threatening to snitch on me to make sure I kept doing it.” Tom laughed bitterly.
“For fuck’s sake. I know.” Junior’s hands were shaking as he continued to rake his hair back. “Just, just fucking shut up!”
Tom noticed Junior was starting to sweat. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
