by Mia Watts
He didn’t believe in coincidence. Having noted the bruising on the victim’s neck, David gently pulled her jaw down. It moved easily and still felt slightly warm to the touch through the thin layer of latex. She’d been a recent kill.
He held her lips and chin with his thumb, pushed her tongue to the side with his finger. The tell-tale red Lifesaver nestled behind her teeth. Yep. It was his guy. The candy hadn’t dissolved yet from the natural enzymatic qualities of residual saliva.
“He’s my killer,” David confirmed. He twisted on his toes.
Nate’s shoulders hunched. “Shit.” He swivelled and strode to stand in front of him. When he got there, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a business card.
David rose. Someone called from outside the apartment and David yelled back. He saw the ME hurry in, and David stepped aside, keeping his eyes on Nate. Nate’s closed, cold features were compelling. His expression was exactly opposite what it had been down in the street and climbing the stairs. David sensed he’d done something which had caused the change. He couldn’t remember anything to explain Nate’s mood change.
Nate lifted an eyebrow. He’d given him the same cocky look in the bar. “You’re going to need my office number for my statement and information, Rook. It’s not a date.”
David’s heart tripped and he felt a blush rush his cheeks. He snatched the card and shoved it into his back pocket. “Bite me.”
“Not anymore.”
David’s gaze shot to his. Nate flashed an insincere smile before leaving David with the ME and his assistant.
David yanked open the filing cabinet and inserted the thickening records for his most disturbing open case. The strangler was still at large. Nate Giamanti had sent over the pertinent case records as promised, and he’d poured over them trying to glean any new information. The more he knew about the possible links, the less he had to talk to the ATF agent.
That seemed to gain importance daily. Nate made him think things. Made him wish for things David wasn’t ready to explore. Once again, he played over the moment on the stairs when Nate had gone from warm to cold. No words had been exchanged, and David thought he’d held his emotions pretty close. Somehow, Nate must have known anyway.
Did he know David had been tempted to take him up on the sexy banter?
When Nate had climbed those last steps, narrowing the distance, David had hoped. He hadn’t put thoughts to the hope, but it had swelled inside him, warmed his belly and he’d hoped.
He’d had ten days to think about it. More, actually, if he went back to that first moment when they’d kissed at the bar. Had that been a month ago? Damn, time flew. Daily, David questioned what he was willing to risk in order to see Nate socially. He still hadn’t worked it all out, but the hope had left traces of itself.
He dated when he got lonely enough and when the grind of seeing death, smelling death, tasting the acrid flavour of death’s aroma laced his tongue. He’d driven to another county to see if he could connect with someone—out of sight of anyone he knew in his professional spectrum. When he did, he broke it off after a few dates. Most times, he didn’t find anyone he wanted to spend time with.
The fuck of it was, he finally had and he wasn’t in the next county. No, of course not, fate didn’t work that way. Instead she’d planted the man on David’s turf and cackled with glee when she knew he wouldn’t accept the six foot temptation.
The cool, clinical responses to David’s questions when he called Nate only served to stoke his curiosity. Why didn’t Nate flirt with him? David had tried dropping a hint. Nate hadn’t caught it. It was maddening. Nate was maddening in his elusiveness.
David’s fingertips flipped at the paper edges in the file. He couldn’t even close the case that had him in constant contact with Nate. There were no further leads. The evidence didn’t connect, yet he couldn’t help but feel that it would soon. It itched under his skin with certainty and left him feeling eerily unsteady.
He closed the drawer and reached for his phone. Before he could flip it open to dial Nate again, it chirped in his hand. Giamanti scrolled across the incoming call box. The irony made him chuckle as he accepted the call.
“Rook,” David answered.
“You’re going to want to see this.”
Nate’s even tone slipped over the virtual line and cupped David’s balls. God, he had a great voice.
“Where are you?”
“Twenty-first and Hemphill,” Nate said.
“That’s out of my jurisdiction.”
“You turning your case over to the ninth?”
“Fuck you,” David said.
“I think we’ve had this conversation. I finished it.”
“Yeah, about that—”
Nate interrupted him. “I’ve another body on my crime scene. You want it, or you want ninth in here fucking with your evidence?”
“I’m on my way.”
“Look for the ATF truck. I’m on the third floor. Again.”
David hung up, grabbed his kit, and took off. He didn’t know if he was more excited about finding a second link between the two cases, or seeing Nate. He’d figure it out later.
Chapter Two
He could do this. Nate could handle seeing Rook. He just had to psyche himself up and swear to all things holy that he wouldn’t grab the other man’s ass and take a bite when he bent over the body.
There was nothing sexy about dead bodies. Rook crouched, ass and thighs flexed, butt cheeks parted, and cock nestled inside open legs, however, was. That might all be happening under the protective covering of jeans, but the position made Nate’s body ache.
He heard the rough timbre of Rook’s voice moments later. His cock stirred and he braced himself for another look at the gorgeous man. It didn’t help. When his loose-hipped stride carried him into the room, Nate’s vision narrowed on him.
Rook’s hair spilled just over his shoulders and fell across his face, obscuring one eye. His lips parted when he caught sight of Nate, and Nate had to remember to quit staring. It wasn’t an easy feat. His navy polo clung to his upper body, delineating each flex of his torso. Lean hips, tight abs, negligently swinging arms created a feast for the eyes.
Derrick slapped Nate’s back. “Breathe,” he chided.
“Fuck off,” he replied, good-naturedly.
Rook’s impossibly blue eyes locked on him. Did he have any idea how fucking hot that was? Goddamn him! He arrived like a fucking god, claimed his visual prize, and practically fucked Nate with his gaze as he languidly approached. They were on a case, for fuck’s sake. He should be scoping the scene and checking out the corpse, not—shit, Rook just checked out Nate’s package.
His mouth went dry. He tried to think of something to say about the case to distract him. There wasn’t much more Nate could take in Rook’s virtual assault on his senses.
“I’m here,” Rook said, stating the obvious.
Nate wanted to laugh. There wasn’t a person who’d missed his entrance. He knew Rook was oblivious to his looks, at least he seemed to be, but the man’s presence vibrated off him in waves. He’d noticed it at the bar. He’d felt it with the kiss, even though he hadn’t liked the way Rook had taken it like it was his due. He’d felt it as strongly as he’d felt Rook’s indecision on the stairwell.
Nate flicked a glance at the sliding mirrored closet doors. “She’s in there.”
“Another closet case,” Rook mused, following his direction.
“There seem to be quite a few in this room,” Nate jibed.
“I’ll ignore that,” Rook muttered. He moved to the closet, and the ME stood back. He was the same guy from the last scene. They exchanged nods and Rook squatted down.
Nate stifled a groan. It didn’t stop him from thinking about spread ass cheeks, and flexed muscles. God, he’d like to see Rook do that without pants on. Preferably because he was preparing to take Nate’s cock. His dick thickened at the thought.
Like before, Rook checked the victim’s neck fo
r ligature marks then gently pressed her chin and nudged aside her tongue. “She’s fresh.”
“An hour or two max.”
“You bust up the deal?” Rook asked.
“Yeah,” Nate answered.
“He’s escalating. There’s no way my guy isn’t involved in your case.”
“Nope.”
“I don’t get why he’s doing them on site with his deals, though. Seems like a big risk,” Rook said, gaining his feet and returning to Nate’s side.
“You’re the detective, detective. Detect something.”
“What the fuck is your problem, Giamanti?” Rook thundered.
“Hey! Take it outside,” Derrick yelled, forcefully splitting them apart.
“I’m done,” Nate said.
“No you aren’t. Take it outside, now,” Derrick countered. “You both have burrs up your asses and until you pass the sonsofbitches, we won’t get anything done.”
Rook led the way. Nate sent a warning look to Derrick, but Derrick shook his head. Clearly his partner was pissed over the juvenile drama they were creating on the scene. He had every right to be.
They hit the first floor and Rook kept going, taking them to the basement. Rook glanced around and went through another door, holding it for Nate.
“We’re surrounded by concrete. Do you want our argument to echo?” Rook asked.
Nate passed through and Rook shut the door behind him after pulling a light cord. The bare bulb swung freely, lengthening and shortening the shadows of an ancient furnace mechanism and dark, gated storage units. Not the first place Nate would have wanted to be alone with Rook.
“What’s your problem with me?” Rook snapped.
Rook’s eyes flickered between forlorn shadow and highlighted angles. Nate rooted to his spot. If he moved, he’d do something stupid. Something Rook didn’t want to explore publicly. Nate had done that before and vowed never to live through that kind of emotional pain again. When he opened up to someone, he wanted to know that man wasn’t going to try to shove him back in the closet, hide him, deny him when they went out.
Rook didn’t seem to feel moving presented a problem. He moved until they both stood under the light.
“We need to talk about what’s going on between us,” Rook said.
There was that vibe again. It amped Nate up, got him horny. “You aren’t ready to talk about us,” Nate managed to answer. His throat felt as though it was closing and breath had become scarce.
“What happened a week ago when you went from hot to cold?” Rook asked.
He felt a dry smile pull his lips. Hadn’t he been the pursuer then? Rook seemed to have taken the lead the minute Nate stepped off.
“I tried to get in your pants,” he answered. “You panicked.” He brought a finger up and poked Rook in the chest. “Don’t worry. I got the message and you’re safe. I don’t fuck men who can’t own up to who they are.” He huffed dry amusement. “You’re off the hook, pal, so how about we go back upstairs and finish the evidence collection?”
Rook grabbed his finger and shoved him against the nearest wall. Cold, hard cement smacked his back and iced his spine. Rook followed, pinning their chests together. Trapped between roughened, unforgiving wall and warm, breathing male, Nate knew he was a goner.
* * * *
David reached low between them and found a handful of hard cock. Nate moaned, his eyes slitting with barely concealed lust. That was more like it. Hard cock and moaning man meant Nate could deny all he wanted, but David knew the man wanted him.
Satisfied, he released Nate’s cock and smirked.
“I said I got the message. I didn’t say nothin’ about not wanting to fuck your ass,” Nate growled.
The confession tumbled David’s stomach into a tight spin. “Why don’t you?” he asked.
“I’m not a masochist. You want my dick, not a relationship.”
David didn’t have a response to that. He definitely wanted Nate’s dick. He wanted Nate, too. He could envision quiet evenings together and sipping hot coffee over breakfast the next day. He could see them competing for the Sunday paper and arguing over who did the last load of laundry.
It sounded like a relationship. He wanted all those things, but couldn’t they keep their lives away from everyone else? Pretend they were roommates? With the doors closed, no one would have to know they were together. It wasn’t anyone’s business but theirs, anyway. Why the fuck did it matter?
“I definitely want your dick,” David said, finally.
Nate’s gaze skipped away. “That’s what I thought.”
“I want your dick. I want your lips. I want your tongue against mine. I want to hear you say my name when you come. I want your knees to go weak like mine do whenever you enter the room. I want to see you every day whether or not our cases collide. It’s not a fucking commitment but that’s what I want.”
He grabbed Nate’s jaw roughly and held him still. He kissed him, tasting Nate’s immediate reluctance and revelling when he relaxed to invite David in. He dragged his free hand down Nate’s tightly packed side to his hip. When Nate retaliated by grabbing David’s ass and squeezing, he nearly came in his pants. He hadn’t wanted anyone this bad in a long, long time.
He released Nate’s jaw to fumble with his zipper, abandoned it to unbuckle his belt, then attacked the zipper when the heavy belt hit the floor and clattered. They tangled tongues between ragged breaths and tender cussing. The pants loosened and David took Nate’s cock in a firm stroke from root to moist tip. He cupped Nate’s scrotum and gently rolled it, sliding a finger behind on the tender hidden flesh he’d rather be kissing.
Nate groaned loudly. David swallowed the sound and stroked him again. Suddenly Nate’s hands were on his shoulders pushing. David complied, kneeling. He looked up, waiting for permission.
“Suck it,” Nate said, his voice demanding and gravelly with need. “You want my cock, and I have to feel your mouth on me,”
From distant to passionate, David couldn’t help the swell of pride in his chest. He was one step closer to having Nate where he wanted him. Where he could suck Nate off whenever he felt like it. A fuck buddy, local, would benefit them both. Once he convinced Nate of it, they could quit dancing around the sexual chemistry and take advantage of it.
David inhaled sharply, memorising Nate’s scent. His cock was longer than David’s, a little slimmer but not by much. His colour tended more towards tan than David’s plum coloured crown. He liked the way it felt in his hand, and his mouth watered to know what it would feel like rubbing firmly over his lips.
He kissed the plump, glistening tip, taking it in his mouth. He hummed when the first salty tang teased his taste buds. David concentrated on the underside of the flared rim, his own favourite spot, while pumping his fist up and down Nate’s swollen shaft.
Nate’s hips lifted. He grabbed fistfuls of David’s hair as though trying to make him swallow more, but David held the other man in check. He only took a little, making Nate’s pleasure draw out with the highest level of intensity. He worked like mad, using the tip of his tongue to press and flick the sweet spot.
Nate’s guttural cries and hip thrusting demand escalated to pulling David’s hair with shaking fingers. “Let me in,” he gasped.
Instead, David focused on the sensitive head and snaked his finger between ass cheeks to tease the spot hidden from view. David’s own cock twitched with appreciation for the tight clench. Next time, he thought, he’d fill it with the shaft currently aching between his thighs.
Nate swore, seeming torn between thrusting into David’s mouth and tipping his hips to get David’s finger inside. Sexiest damn thing he’d ever seen. Nate on the verge of coming, turned into a slutty sonofabitch. God, his dick ached to take him. He deserved a reward for this kind of restraint.
David chuckled. Glancing up, he could see the darkened strands of matted hair on Nate’s temples as he began to sweat. His finger teased Nate’s puckered hole with butterfly flicks and light wiggles
against the desperate opening. He drew Nate in a little farther, working his mouth up and down the other man’s thickened shaft in slick tandem with his pumping fist.
Pre-cum dampened David’s snug boxer briefs, wetted it enough that the smallest movements caused his cockhead to slide within the confines of cotton. It sensitised the engorged head, making the fabric feel abrasive in a twisted combination of pleasure and discomfort.
Nails bit into David’s scalp, and he pressed his tongue over the slit, delving in with the same tickles he used on Nate’s hole. David’s breathing quickened. Nate was close. God, so close.
David’s balls drew up and causing a sensation like goose bumps to ride his nerve endings. Nate had the sexiest way of losing himself. Fucking himself with David’s mouth. Trying to fuck himself with David’s mouth, he mentally corrected. Nate may not be driven with passion on the outside, but he sure as fuck hid an inner nympho.
Nate yelled, frustration and David holding him on the wrong side of orgasm.
Now, he was ready, David decided. He relaxed, taking Nate as deep as he could. With the tip of his tormenting finger, he slipped into Nate’s hole, curled the end digit and popped the tight ring of muscle, repeatedly.
Nate bucked, slammed his hips forward. David hollowed his cheeks on the draw. With a long shout, Nate came, his seed spurting thickly down David’s throat. Even as his hips slowed, David continued to suck him off, watching Nate’s clenched eyes, his gritted teeth through which his breath hushed on urgent panted grunts. He revelled in the slow single drip of sweat tracking Nate’s temple.
David slipped the spent cock from his mouth and stood to crowd Nate’s space. Cupping the other man’s balls, he leaned into him. “God, you’re the sluttiest thing to ride my mouth in a long time. You pretend to be in control, but these,” he said, gently rolling Nate’s silky sac, “rule you.”
A look akin to fear and lust darkened Nate’s eyes. His rapid breathing hadn’t yet slowed to normal. He shook his head, but it only made David grin more confidently. Even in his denial, Nate had to know he’d given up his poker hand.
