Closer by Morning

by Thom Collins

  “I got his number but he didn’t get mine,” Conrad continued. “So he said he hoped I would call. If I didn’t he was going to get my number from you. But he didn’t have to ’cause I called him anyway.”

  “Conrad, get to the point. You’re rambling. Are you meeting him this afternoon?”

  “No, I can’t. Got a committee meeting about our next fundraiser.”

  “It’s Saturday afternoon. Who the hell books a meeting for then?”

  “I did,” he said, sounding defensive. “It’s the only time everyone is free. But I’m not doing anything tomorrow, so Danny and I are meeting for coffee in the afternoon.”

  “Thank God for that. Shit, Conrad, you need to strike a better balance between your work and personal life.”

  “Charity isn’t work.”

  “Then you deserve a medal. An MBE. A bloody knighthood.”

  “That’ll do for me.” He laughed.

  “As long as you get a shag. Man, you’re way overdue a good time.”

  ****

  Matt ran up into the hills above the town, heading in the opposite direction to the boot camp route. He needed variety in exercise to keep it interesting. It was another cold day but thankfully dry. The ground was hard underfoot, making the going a little easier.

  He tuned out as he ran, allowing his mind to roam as freely as his body. The stresses of work were forgotten. Even Dale Zachary took a back seat for a while. The time was his own and he enjoyed it.

  He paid little attention to the figure in gray running clothes keeping pace behind him, fifty yards down the track. The figure looked like any other runner, hood pulled around their face to keep out the cold. It may just have been coincidence that the runner was using the exact same route.

  But the eyes inside the hood were focused intently.

  Watching.

  Keeping pace.

  Following.

  Chapter Nine

  Dale put Jack on the five-thirty-eight p.m. train on Sunday. He stood on the platform waving until the train vanished down the track. There was a familiar melancholy feeling in his chest as he watched the boy go. No plans were set for when they would get together again, but it wouldn’t be long. It couldn’t be. Jack was growing fast, he would soon be a man with no time to spare for his lonely old dad.

  It had been a great weekend. Saturday had been fairly packed. After the shops, he had taken Jack to the movies to watch a brainless action film the boy was keen to see. “Dad, why can’t you make movies like this?” On the way back to the cottage they had stopped for a pizza. It had given Dale another opportunity to spoil his son, ordering a sixteen-inch meat feast and twelve-inch garlic bread with cheese. They had devoured the lot in front of the TV. He had allowed Jack to stay up till eleven. They had talked, caught up on each other’s news, then watched a DVD before bed. Sunday morning, they had played football in the garden and Dale had cooked a late lunch. It was a perfect weekend, until the time came for Jack to catch his train.

  So that was it. Another visit over too soon. They would stay in touch by phone and Skype but it wasn’t the same as face-to-face contact.

  Saying goodbye was the worst part. It always was.

  Walking from the platform, Dale pulled out his phone and dialed Matt’s number.

  “Hi,” Matt answered straight away. “Good weekend?”

  The sound of Matt’s voice made the pain of parting a little easier.

  “It’s been good. Jack just caught his train. I was wondering whether you’d still like me to drop by on the way home.”

  “You had better drop by. Do you have any idea how horny I’ve been, waiting for you to call?”

  Dale’s cock reacted instantly. “Yeah? What made you so hot?”

  “I’ve been watching one of your movies. Pretty hot stuff, even though your death scene was a downer.”

  Dale groaned. “Don’t tell me, An Axe in the Dark. That movie haunts me like a ghost.”

  “You were a hot young thing back then.”

  He laughed. “As opposed to the old man I am now?”

  “Mature, not old. And definitely better with age. So… Are you on your way or not?”

  ****

  The lack of traffic on Sunday meant the drive from the station to Matt’s house took less than fifteen minutes. Matt opened the front door as he got out of the car.

  Man, does he look good. In just a baggy T-shirt and shorts, he was unshaven and his thick brown hair hung heavy and unstyled across his brow. The casual look suited him. With his versatile good looks and that body, he could have been a very successful model if he hadn’t gone into the law. Back in his own modeling days, Dale had seen plenty of guys who didn’t have what Matt did.

  As they closed the front door, their passion erupted and they were all over each other.

  Up against the wall, locked at the mouth, hands roaming, Dale’s hunger for Matt was even stronger than before. He thrust his hardness against Matt’s hip. Matt’s leisurewear gave him easy access to his body. He slipped his hands down the back of his shorts, grabbing bare ass. Oh yeah.

  They tumbled into the living room. Matt fell backward onto the sofa. Dale didn’t waste any time, tearing down Matt’s shorts, tossing them aside. His tumescent cock slapped against his belly. He pulled Matt’s T-shirt over his head, getting him exactly how he wanted him—stark naked.

  He grabbed Matt’s cock and squeezed. Matt groaned, arching his back and spreading his legs. Dale went down, taking him in his mouth. Matt groaned even louder and the shaft thickened. Dale licked the deliciously salty tip and kneaded his balls, hoping to elicit even more pre-cum into his mouth.

  “Take it easy,” Matt sighed. “I’ve been waiting for this all day. I could blow at any time.”

  Dale knew exactly how to handle a man. He sucked long and slow on the shaft, giving his nuts just enough pressure. He listened for the quickening of breath and was alert to the rhythm and pulse of Matt’s cock. He edged him toward orgasm and stopped just before the crucial moment, delaying his release time and time again while pre-cum coated his tongue.

  But Dale wanted more than his cock. He released him from his mouth and raised Matt’s knees up to his chest, giving him unrestricted access to his beautiful asshole. What a sight. That dusky pink opening surrounded by swirls of dark hair. Dale had always been an ass man.

  “I’m going to make you feel even better,” he said, lowering his head into the crack. Slowly, teasing, he brushed his tongue against the sensitive skin.

  “Oh God,” Matt cried, arching his back farther from the sofa, giving the most intimate part of his body.

  Dale was a dedicated ass eater. He could bring a bottom to complete ecstasy with just his tongue. The way Matt reacted to his slow, delicious administrations drove his own desire to unbearable heights. Matt’s body responded and lost all resistance. Dale listened to the helpless catch in Matt’s breath.

  He ate Matt’s delectable ass until neither of them could stand the tension any longer.

  Dale drew back and undressed quickly. He kept a safe sex kit in his jacket and hurriedly put the rubber on his quivering cock. Matt watched with undisguised hunger and anticipation. His pupils were wide and dilated, his mouth open. His asshole, wet with Dale’s saliva, offered a glistening invitation.

  Dale tore into a sachet of lube and hurriedly coated his dick, pushing a finger into Matt’s ass, preparing the way. He needed this. He’d wanted nothing else since Friday morning.

  He moved over Matt, pulling his hips into position, and looked down at his handsome face as he pushed his cock inside. They let out a unified sigh as one body enveloped another, slow, inch by inch. Matt slid his arms around Dale’s shoulders and pulled his face down to his lips.

  “Fuck me hard and deep,” he said, just before their lips locked.

  Dale didn’t need much encouragement. The buil
d-up had been too long, too intense. There would be time enough to make love later, but for now, what they both needed was a good hard fuck.

  Their passion was equal as they thrust, pushed and clutched at each other’s body. Matt grabbed Dale’s ass, pulling him deeper. They came together. Dale reached a shuddering orgasm in the tight grip of Matt’s ass, while Matt came in a sticky rush all over his hairy abdominals.

  “God, that was intense,” Matt gasped afterward, wiping his belly with tissues.

  Dale murmured agreement, flopping bare-assed on the sofa beside him. His heart was beating fast. He needed a moment to calm down. They both did.

  “Like a beer?” Matt asked at last.

  “Mmm, that would be good.”

  Matt located his T-shirt and shorts from the mess of their hastily discarded clothes and pulled them on. While he was gone, Dale found his own underpants and stepped into them. As comfortable as he felt around Matt, it didn’t seem right to hang out bare-assed in his living room.

  He found his phone and fired off a quick text to his son.

  Everything OK?

  The one word reply came back immediately.

  Yes.

  It was better than nothing.

  Matt returned with the beer. They sat side by side and clinked bottles.

  “So what have you been up to?” Dale asked. “Apart from watching me being murdered with an axe.”

  Matt stroked his bare thigh. “At the risk of sounding like a stalker, I watched two of your old films. You see, this is something new. I’ve never been with a guy who I could look up on Netflix when he wasn’t around. It beats trolling through Facebook galleries.”

  “And how was that?”

  “A little weird, I’ll admit. I can’t say I totally enjoyed the movies as much as I enjoyed seeing you in them.”

  “What was the second movie?”

  Matt winched. “You know, I can’t even remember what it was called.”

  Dale laughed. “You should meet my son. You both have an uncanny knack of keeping my ego in check.”

  “Sorry. You played a hot dog seller.”

  “Oh, that movie! I take it back, that picture sucks. Well done for getting through it at all, that’s more than I ever did. They had a screening of that crap for cast and crew. There was no one left by the end. It’s difficult enough watching yourself on screen, without watching yourself in absolute shit.”

  Matt rubbed against him. “I wouldn’t say it was absolute shit. Just a bit shitty.”

  “They should’ve put that quote on the poster. Still, that shitty movie fed us and paid the rent for a few months so it wasn’t all bad.”

  “Like I said, you were good in it. I would never have made it to the end if I wasn’t perving over your fine American arse.”

  After the beers, they were both hungry. Matt fixed them a sandwich—ham and pease pudding.

  “Pease pudding? What’s that?” Dale asked, watching him spread the yellowy-orange substance across the top of the meat.

  “Remember the black pudding I had at the restaurant the other night? This is another local delicacy. Without the blood. Try it. You’ll love it. I promise.”

  “I’ll try it if we can have sex again.” Dale grinned.

  “That’s an absolute certainty.”

  The sandwich, washed down with more beer, was indeed delicious.

  “I can’t cook,” Matt said, clearing away the plates. “But I know my way around a deli counter.”

  The second bottle of beer put Dale over the limit to drive home. Not that he intended to leave He should really be home, learning his pages for tomorrow, but they could wait. Right now, Matt was far more alluring.

  They took it to the bedroom. Naked, beneath the covers, they held each other and kissed. There was so much to discover. Where Matt liked to be touched and how. How tight to hold him. How softly to stroke him. How he shuddered when Dale drew his tongue along the curve of his ear. How he moaned when Dale traced his fingers around the contours of his asshole.

  It was a long journey of discovery. And they were just beginning.

  ****

  Jamie Dench had only been seconded to the Major Incident Team for three days and he loved it. This was the opportunity he’d been waiting for. It was no secret that he wanted to climb the greasy career pole. So what if he was ambitious? He worked hard and did a damn good job.

  His new boss, DCI Frank Redgraves, was a hard taskmaster, but Jamie was there to prove that, however hard Redgraves pushed, he was more than up to it.

  The investigation into the murders of Conner Welsh and Olly Raymond were important, personally and politically. There were rumors developing, especially on social media, that both the victims were gay and had been killed because of their sexuality. Officially, the police had yet to confirm that they were pursuing that as a serious line of enquiry, but it was true. It was the line of enquiry.

  No one on the force could accuse Jamie of being out and proud, but his relationship with Matt Blyth was no great secret. His sexuality was probably more accepted by his colleagues than by Jamie himself. As soon as he realized that MIT was looking into that aspect of the victims lives, he knew it was also the reason he’d been put forward for the team.

  So what if it was? While he didn’t want to make an issue of his sexuality, if it opened doors within the police force, he was fully prepared to take advantage of that. He would prove he was the best man for the job, regardless of his sex life.

  “Dench, why are you still here?” DCI Redgraves, a small man with thinning gray hair and a powerful voice, looked out of the open door of his office.

  It was past nine-thirty on Sunday night and they were the only two officers left on the floor. Jamie had been on duty for over fourteen hours.

  “Almost done, sir. I’m just going through the social media contacts of Olly Raymond.”

  “They’ve been checked already. Go home.”

  “Doesn’t hurt to check again, sir. A fresh pair of eyes.”

  “Trust me, we’re not going to find the killer through Facebook. Our man is far too careful. Now go. My overtime budget is not infinite.”

  As reluctant as Jamie was to leave a job half finished, he was less inclined to piss off the new boss. It was only his third day. While it was good to show a willingness to work, knowing when to back off was just as valuable.

  “I’m going, sir. See you tomorrow.”

  Redgraves peered over the top of his glasses and nodded. It was as good as anything Jamie could hope for.

  It was dark and cold as he left the station. Suddenly alone, he found it hard to switch off. He wouldn’t show it in the station, but the case and his empathy for the victims had an impact on him. Ordinary, regular boys, just like him, who happened to meet the wrong man. It could have happened to him or any man he knew.

  Matt.

  God forbid. The idea was abhorrent. If anything happened to him… What? There was nothing he could do about it. Matt wasn’t his boyfriend anymore. He’d made that abundantly clear on Thursday night, going on a date with someone else.

  Goddammit. How could he even think about another man already? Matt had said it was over but he wouldn’t believe it. Jamie had barely looked at another man since their split. Why would he want to? Matt Blyth was the man for him. The only man. He didn’t want anyone else. No one else was good enough.

  He’d never stopped believing that.

  Matt obviously didn’t share his faith in their relationship. Going with other men already.

  They’d been through a rough patch. It didn’t mean they were irreparably broken. Not even close. Jamie was no quitter. He worked hard until he got what he wanted.

  He’d proved it in the police force. His personal life wasn’t any different. He would keep going till he made Matt see things his way. Perseverance—that’s what it took t
o succeed.

  Jamie got in the car and headed along Bowman Road, the opposite direction to where he should be heading. He took the long way home, almost all the way around the town in a circular route—one that would take him past Matt’s estate.

  He had reservations, of course. He was no masochist. How many times could he listen to Matt telling him they were finished?

  As many times as it took until he changed his mind.

  Anyway, it was essential that he speak to Matt tonight. If he was putting himself out there dating other men, he had to know the risks he was taking. There was a killer in their community. A killer who preyed on good-looking young men—gay man. Guys exactly like Matt. It was his duty as a cop to make him aware of the danger.

  His hands were sweaty as he steered his car onto Matt’s estate. It wasn’t yet ten o’clock. Not too late. Matt rarely went to bed before eleven-thirty, even on Sundays. There was enough time for Jamie to say his piece, to warn him and show him how much he still cared.

  Slowing on the bend to the cul de sac, he suddenly hit the brakes.

  There were two cars parked on the drive. Matt’s Nissan and another vehicle, an Audi.

  He wasn’t alone.

  Who did he know who drove an Audi? Not Matt’s parents. They hadn’t changed their Ford in almost a decade. It didn’t belong to Annabel either. And the last time he’d seen Conrad, he was driving a Peugeot.

  Who then? Was this the guy from Thursday? Was he back already? If not him, who? Another stranger? Had Matt started to put it about? A casual hook-up? No, that wasn’t his style. He couldn’t believe it. Matt wouldn’t screw around for the sake of it. He was better than that.

  But if this was the man from Thursday, they had advanced beyond any first date. To be home together at ten on a Sunday night… That was a lot more involved.

  Jamie felt an unbearable tightness inside. It gripped his balls, his guts and his heart. It made it difficult to breathe. An overwhelming rush of emotions came through him. Mixed emotions—anger, pain, confusion, jealousy, loss. He ground his teeth and gripped the steering wheel, trying to bring his thoughts together. To clear his head.