Mitchell, K.A. [Bad in Baltimore #3] Bad attitude

by Bad Attitude [Samhain MM] (mobi)

  “Well, you don’t have to as I understand.”

  “Right. Forget it.” Jamie pushed a button, and Jim Morrison growled through flawless speakers.

  “‘Crawling King Snake’?” Gavin said after the first bar. “Yeah.” Jamie’s voice held a touch of surprised approval. “No comment about how

  they’ve been making music in this century too?” “The comment would be that I like Morrison’s vocals, but prefer John Lee Hooker’s gui-

  tar riffs.”

  Jamie shot another glance his way.

  “Occasionally I need a break from operas and chamber music.” Jamie snorted.

  “Who doesn’t like The Doors?” Gavin wanted to know. “Huh? Oh, not so much that. I get a lot of the same old comments about trying music

  that wasn’t recorded before I was born.”

  “Or vehicles that aren’t over fifty and don’t require so much work to maintain? And al-low a passenger the ability to exit on a whim?”

  Jamie surprised Gavin by reacting with amusement rather than irritation. “I don’t recom-mend it traveling sixty-five miles per hour. And the current child safety locks can be a bitch in search and rescue.”

  Search and rescue. Jamie’s job. For an instant, Gavin pictured a child floating behind a locked door she couldn’t force open. The truck’s handle-free doors no longer felt like an amusing example of Jamie’s control issues but a death trap. “Have you had…that experi-ence a lot, people”— children —“trapped?”

  “Happens.” Jamie’s pragmatism only confirmed what Gavin knew. You couldn’t do any-thing about it. Good people or bad, deserving or not, nothing really mattered and you died alone.

  “Rescued a dog two days ago,” Jamie said. “Fell in, so the owner says.” “Would he have called for help if he was trying to drown it?” “People change their minds.” Although Jamie’s tone remained matter-of-fact and he

  didn’t look Gavin’s way, the implication was clear. “I don’t think Beach wanted to kill himself.”

  Jamie made a sound in the back of his throat that could have been acceptance or dis-missal, and suddenly Gavin was tired of giving a shit what Jamie thought.

  “Pretty high standards, there, Officer. Do you always go in looking for a fight?” “Where the hell did that come from?” In the reflection of headlights on the windshield,

  Jamie’s stunned expression was easy to read.

  “Lee, Beach, Soren, the poor guy with the dog. Hell, everyone in your path. You assume the worst.”

  “I don’t judge. Don’t care what they do, as long as it doesn’t fuck with my life.” “Bullshit.”

  Gavin couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw the corner of Jamie’s mouth twitch in a smile in response to Gavin’s assertion.

  “Common sense.” Jamie’s tone held pragmatism. “Assume everyone else is an asshole. It’s better to be surprised if they aren’t than disappointed that they are.”

  Gavin sat back. That was pretty close to his own philosophy. He wished they weren’t so close to the house, because he had the feeling he and Jamie could have had a lot more to say. Jamie hadn’t turned on the heat in the truck and it was under sixty outside, but the tingle under Gavin’s skin had more to do with the intensity of the guy next to him, the way Jamie stepped up to a challenge instead of shrugging it off.

  “Fact is,” Jamie said, “you can’t count on being rescued from stupidity. So you might as well not risk it.”

  Being called stupid changed Gavin’s desire to prolong the conversation. “At the end of the drive here is fine.” Gavin pointed then reached for the door handle. Except there wasn’t one. Control freak.

  “I don’t mind taking you to the house.”

  “I like the walk.”

  Jamie drove in far enough to stop at the gate, then turned down the music. “You have to sneak in?” But there was more laughter in his tone than incredulity.

  “No. I simply feel like walking.”

  Jamie shut off the truck and leaned across to place his palm on Gavin’s cheek, turning him in to a kiss. Gavin let himself sink into the feeling for a moment, the soft but deepening pressure, the teasing hint of Jamie’s tongue, the heat of his body and the smell of his skin.

  As soon as Gavin’s dick started to wake up and think about putting on a show for the security cameras, Gavin pulled free.

  Jamie let him go. In the stillness, Gavin could hear the motor in the door whine as the lock and latch released, the door popping open a crack.

  “You’re free to go.”

  Gavin chuckled at that. “But don’t leave town?” “Well, actually.” Jamie put a hand to the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t mind getting to-

  gether again. I’ll call you.”

  “Thanks, but I spend enough time with people who barely tolerate my presence. You may have a nice dick and know how to use it, but someone who is surprised to find he doesn’t despise me is not my first choice of company, in bed or out of it. Thanks for the ride.”

  Gavin stepped down, strode to the brick gatepost and keyed in the code. But as the gates swung in, he felt Jamie behind him.

  Gavin turned around, hemmed in by the gate and Jamie, but could have stepped around him, started on the four-hundred-yard trip up the driveway. A jolt of adrenaline kicked in, but not for flight. He tucked his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the bricks.

  “Forget something?”

  “Not a thing. In fact, I seem to remember you saying that liking someone wasn’t a re-quirement for sex.”

  Jamie getting out of his truck to chase Gavin was a shock, but the fact that he’d actually been paying attention to what Gavin said left him speechless.

  Jamie put his hands on the bricks on either side of Gavin’s shoulders. “In case it escaped your attention, that’s what I’m talking about. Sex. You and me and lots of sex.” Jamie tipped his hips in.

  Gavin was not someone who had trouble finding words. He didn’t always say what he was thinking, usually because no one listened. But at that moment, his mind was blank. His dick, on the other hand, thought that Jamie being this close was definitely something to get excited about.

  Jamie stepped in. “You might live in some storybook castle, but I didn’t say anything about that kind of happy ending. I want to fuck, you want to fuck. The straights can keep all the rest of the bullshit for their fucked-up fairy tales.”

  The way the truck was parked shielded them from the road. There was a possibility that this close to the tower of bricks that anchored the front gate the security camera couldn’t get a good look. And they were still fully dressed.

  Jamie’s hand moved between them, and there was no denying that Gavin could definitely handle a third round in less than eight hours. Though he doubted he’d be able to walk after.

  “You going to play this game again and leave me hanging?” Gavin managed to get out. “Feel pretty hung to me.” In the cold mist of the predawn, Jamie’s hand burned through

  the layer of denim and cotton over Gavin’s cock. The motion stopped, leaving only heat and pressure on that hypersensitive head. The friction he’d need to come was going to hurt after all that action last night, but damn, it would be worth it.

  “Flattery will get you—” Gavin’s words broke off in a hissed breath. “Jesus.” “Sex?”

  “Uh.” The fine line between pain and pleasure on his dick was erasing every bit of his vocabulary. “That is a compelling argument.”

  “I have no fucking idea what you just said, but it sounds like agreement.” Jamie stretched up and kissed him hard. “I’ll call you.” He stepped back.

  “Oh, no. Not this time.” Gavin dragged him past the gates, down the drive and through the spring-pale feathery leaves of a willow.

  Jamie grinned. “It wasn’t a yes?”

  “It was a yes to later and a no to you walking away this time.” Gavin leaned against the trunk and dragged Jamie onto his mouth. Gavin could have

  kissed him for hours, feeding off the
intensity of the way Jamie kissed, the way he pushed that heat into Gavin with his tongue, then drew it back out. It didn’t only get Gavin’s dick and balls humming, his whole body wanted in on that kiss. Wanted to sink into the way Jamie made him feel, as if the tree could crash down around them and they’d still be kiss-ing. Gavin didn’t know how long they’d been locked together like that, but in the space of one breath it went from merely an enjoyable kiss to a desperate need to get skin, mouth, anything on his cock to relieve the pressure in his balls. He reached between them and found Jamie’s hand doing the same. Gavin might have laughed, except it didn’t feel funny, only right to have it hit them both at the same time.

  They tore at each other’s flies, freeing their cocks, then it was a filthy, urgent tangle of rough skin and smooth, hot precome and a little cool mist. Gavin spread his legs so Jamie could press their dicks together, grind tight and close to block out that morning air. Gav-in needed more breath, wanted to throw his head back against the tree trunk and gasp, but Jamie held on to Gavin’s hair and kept him locked in that kiss that was now more grunts and moans than tongue and lips.

  Gavin’s hips stuttered, cock seeking perfect friction, need clamping down on him like an ache in his thighs and ass because every time Jamie’s calloused hand hit the skin of his glans it was too much sensation. Without a word, Jamie pulled his hand away and Gavin took over the stroke, holding their cocks to rub against each other, adjusting his rhythm so their cocks dragged and tugged on the tight skin and silky heads.

  When Jamie’s finger slid into Gavin’s mouth, bringing the taste of come and sweat into the kiss, he knew the plan, wanted to grunt a thank you , a yeah, that , but he didn’t have oxygen to spare, and Jamie seemed to be doing just fine without the encouragement.

  Gavin shifted his stance a little wider, pulling his ass away from the tree as Jamie slid his hand into the back of Gavin’s jeans and under the waistband of his briefs, slick finger pressing, rubbing, dipping inside.

  Gavin shuddered, his grip tightened and they both groaned into that messy kiss, nothing left of it but the press of wet panting mouths, the vibration of sound another way to make skin tingle and pleasure pulse sweet through his body. Jamie pushed his finger deeper and Gavin sped up his thrusts, Jamie right behind him. They were both slick, the glide easy, the tug of Jamie’s tight hard skin on Gavin’s the right touch to drive him to the edge. He was right there, hanging, the rush flooding him, drowning him as his body strained for it.

  Jamie’s hand yanked at Gavin’s hair, and the kiss wasn’t sloppy anymore. It was delib-erate, concentrated, dragging Gavin back in to sharp focus. Jamie drove his finger in hard, and all those sensations gathered at the base of Gavin’s cock. Jamie’s mouth was there to swallow the cry Gavin made as it shot through him, violently sweet, so consuming it was if the other two rounds were rebounding to make this better, longer, from someplace so far down inside he’d never stop.

  He realized he’d let go of Jamie’s cock, but before he could do anything about it, Jamie released his hold on Gavin’s hair and humped against him, tight, controlled thrusts, mouth moving to Gavin’s neck as he gasped almost silently.

  Gavin was still getting the lion’s share of his balance from the tree as Jamie stepped back to zip up. Most of the mess was on Gavin’s jeans, he noticed with a rueful grimace. He tucked himself away.

  “So then,” Jamie said. “Sex. I’ll call you.” With an infuriating smile, he leaned in and brushed a quick kiss across Gavin’s mouth.

  Jamie was a few steps away when he said, “Hey, change your mind about the ride up to the house?”

  Smug bastard. Gavin pushed away from the tree. “No thanks. I like the walk.” Gavin was a moron. Pride offered no comfort in the face of the chafing muscle exhaus-

  tion in his thighs and twinge in his ass that plagued him with every step. Every single step, and there seemed to be thousands of steps between him and what his British-born mother had called the garden door, but at least that entrance was quiet and closest to the back stairs where he could disappear into his room.

  Annabelle greeted him at the door, an energetic wave in her tail and a needy look in her pansy-brown eyes.

  She was Taisy’s dog. His sister had researched the most visually appealing, high-polling breeds, settling on Cavalier King Charles Spaniel as the perfect canine accessory. But Taisy had left Annabelle behind as Taisy settled into the Governor’s Mansion. She would reclaim her furry prop if she needed one, but in the meantime, Annabelle drifted around the manor, eager to offer her devotion to anyone who would accept it.

  Gavin held the door open for her, but she only sniffed the air briefly before turning back to sit on his shoes. Gavin scooped her up and carried her to his room, scratching her head before bending to turn her loose again. She followed as he dragged himself into the adjoin-ing bathroom. Chip’s room was on the other side, but though Chip still kept the manor as his main address, he had an apartment a five-minute walk from the hospital.

  Gavin had thought about getting an apartment for himself for years, he’d really fallen in love with a condo in Federal Hill, but then Lily became pregnant. It only took a glance at Annabelle who kept propping her paws on the tub rim to remember that everyone in this family had an agenda that had more to do with how things looked than what was actually right.

  He thought he’d drop off to sleep as soon as he finished his shower, but his eyes felt blazed open, body full of energy. He hadn’t been to see Beach in a few days. Now was as good a time as any. He could be back before anyone noticed he wasn’t around—as if any-one but Annabelle would notice anyway. As he dressed, she brushed the rug with her tufted tail and cocked her head.

  “I’d love to take you, sweetheart, but you’d be stuck in the car. A box of patisserie from Le Vol-au-Vent might encourage the nurses to overlook the stringency of visiting hours, but dogs are a different matter.”

  She drooped but followed him back downstairs, taking advantage of his departure to ven-ture into the yard, trotting down a path before sitting down and watching some industrious spring bumblebees at work on an azalea. Gavin wished his own dissatisfactions could be so easily mutated into fascination.

  Rather than deal with the hospital shift change, he drove the loop around the city. Even over the bridge, just to prove he could, sparing a glance for the Fort Carroll Island that had Beach so riled up that night. A box of pastry in one hand and coffee in the other, Gavin stopped at the nurses’ station on 5C for an update.

  Melinda had been on every day Gavin had been by, and she shook her head before he could ask if there was any change. “Family’s talking about moving him to long-term care in another week or so.”

  Gavin nodded. The Beauchamps owned shares in the biggest healthcare corporation in the South. As disinterested as Beach’s aunt and uncle were, Gavin didn’t believe they’d put him anywhere but the best, but it felt like giving up. The swelling had gone down and they’d stopped inducing his coma last week, but Beach still hadn’t woken up.

  Simply because the longer he was out, the less likely he was to come back didn’t mean it was over.

  Gavin squeezed Beach’s limp, dry hand. “Hang in there, Beach. You always did like your sleep. Maybe you just need longer than they think.” He’d apologized in the beginning for not getting to him in time, but without a response from Beach that turned depressing in a hurry.

  He took the chair next to the bed and leaned down as he spoke. “Went to one of Soren’s things last night. Mostly the same cast. And way better than that repressed bunch of des-perate idiots you call friends.

  “New entry, though. The cop who found us under the bridge. Mouth like—I can’t de-scribe this side of heaven on him. And damn, can the man fuck. Even Tommy was im-pressed.”

  Gavin watched Beach’s face. Were his eyes moving a fraction under the thin lids? Gavin stared so hard he could see the tiny capillaries threading the surface. But nothing else moved.

  Gavin made up Beach’s contribution
to the conversation. Like you weren’t impressed? “Trust me. I was.” Gavin leaned closer. “We are talking nine by three, baby. I’m still

  feeling him. Still better, I’m going to be feeling that again soon.” Always were a cock slut. I suppose he’s older as usual. Gavin sat back. “I suppose he is. Didn’t think to ask.” A cop? Really? On top of everything else, your dad is going to have a major cow. “I’m not dating him. We’re just fucking.”

  All the more reason.

  Gavin knew that. Even in the face of flak from the church which was such a huge part of his father’s life, gay and lesbian equality mattered. It wasn’t something he said for expedi-ence or to make an impression. He believed in it. But that also meant that Fortescue Quincy Montgomery, III believed in being equally responsible for not fucking around and having appropriate monogamous relationships.

  Come to think of it, Jamie’s whole black-and-white world view would probably mesh well with that of Fortescue Q. Montgomery, III.

  “Like I said,” Gavin muttered, though he was no longer talking to Beach, “we’re just fucking.”

  Honey was sprawled over one of the chairs in the sunroom as Gavin came in through the garden door, Annabelle at his heels. He wondered if she’d been left out there the whole time. Taisy’s focus now was on Lee running for congress, at which point they were sched-uled to purchase property and produce offspring, according to her calendar. Annabelle might come in handy for photo ops before the human children were available. She sat down and looked up at him. The long fur on her ankles and belly was matted with dirt. Gavin scooped her up and tried to comb it out with his fingers.

  Honey swung one yoga-panted leg as she read on her iPad. “You should call Taisy and make her do it. Not our fault her sister-in-law has allergies. Taisy could at least get her shaved.”

  “Or you could display some of the compassion for animals you pretend to espouse at your protests and take care of her once in a while.”