Glenn

by Hayden West

  Shivering from the raw honesty in Tate’s words, he struggled to keep a clear head. “That’s not it, I’ve always been a disappointment to him. And now, he’s mad that I didn’t reach out to him sooner about the threats.”

  The man who worked SWAT for a living, wrapped his arms around him and drew him flush to his chest. “Your brother is being an ass, so he doesn’t have to show concern.”

  “Logically, I know this, however, it doesn’t help.”

  Glenn returned the embrace, grateful to be held for the moment.

  “Then let me help you forget.” He pulled back enough to capture Glenn’s mouth beneath his own.

  With a surrendering moan, Glenn parted his lips allowing him to take ownership. He had his own tongue there to meet Tate’s and a low moan slipped free. Chest to chest, the men kissed, the passion between them skyrocketing. Glenn’s dick pressed hard in his pants and he could feel on the other side of the two fabrics, Tate’s.

  Lowering his hand to the button on the man’s jeans, he undid them. After a moment, he began to tug down the zipper tab, cautiously as he knew his lover preferred to go commando. A low growl of approval slid from his mouth to Tate’s the moment his hand curled around the man’s thick, swollen cock.

  Tate thrust his hips forward, driving his shaft further into Glenn’s palm and he squeezed. His pleasure momentarily sidelined when Tate drew back. Glenn’s protest stopped with a sharp shake of his head.

  Undoing Glenn’s pants, Tate withdrew his cock, also hard and long. “Back up,” he muttered.

  He didn’t even question the order given, just backed up until his desk barred him from any further movement.

  “Sit.” Tate’s expression bordered on feral as he stared at him, stroking his own cock.

  Licking his lips and ignoring his own dick free from confinement, he did as commanded and sat on the edge of the desk. Glenn stared at the man doing the same to him as if he were the only thing in his world, and it was a heady emotion, empowering.

  “You don’t get to touch me. You stay right there, hands flat on the surface of the desk. Do I make myself clear?”

  Glenn opened his mouth to dispute him only to shake his head and widen his legs before slapping his hands down on the desktop. Lifting one eyebrow, he posed the silent question of what happens now?

  Still stroking his own shaft, Tate moved to get his office chair and wheel it before Glenn. Then he sat, slouching in the seat, hand working up and down that length. Glenn bit the inside of his lip to try and control his own lust that streamed through him. His cock bobbed with a desire to be touched, caressed, licked. Sucked.

  Tate watched Glenn from behind lowered lids. He was taking his time in deciding where to start enjoying the man before him. Glenn’s gaze remained riveted on his hand as he fisted himself. The stark hunger there made him harder. From the jerking Glenn’s dick was doing as it jetted from his fly told him there was more than one person enjoying this.

  Even if it was an acute form of hell.

  “Tate,” he moaned, fingers flexing on the desktop, but he never removed his hands.

  “No,” Tate bit off. “I’m not letting you touch me. Not yet. You’re going to sit there and watch me beat off. Then I’m going to come on you, covering your cock and pants. Maybe then I’ll let you rub my cum into your skin as you jerk off. Maybe.” He gave two sharp tugs on his cock and released it to cup his sac. “You don’t move. I don’t give a damn if that door opens and Chris walks in. You stay like that, exposed for me. Are we clear?”

  His pupils dilated and he watched the muscles in Glenn’s stomach flex and contract. The veins began to pop on his arms as he struggled to follow his order, even as he gave a long slow nod.

  “Yes,” Glenn murmured.

  “Good.”

  He closed his eyes nearly all the way but continued to keep an eye on Glenn as his hand smoothed along his shaft. Glenn didn’t move, but he trembled and looked like he was ready to snap. Tate remembered what it was like having his touch on him, the firm grip and the sure way Glenn stroked him. Faster and faster he worked his hand, deciding suddenly this wasn’t about making Glenn suffer but needing to get them both off.

  True to his word, he rose and came on Glenn, without giving him permission to move though, he reached out and gripped Glenn’s dick.

  “Tate,” he ground out.

  “No, I changed my mind. I still get to touch you.” With his own release as lube, he stroked his hand along both shafts, pressing them together. The heat and intimacy from touching him this way had his own legs shaking. There cocks were similar but definitely different.

  Swiping his thumb over the crowns, both men trembled, a sharp gasp falling from Glenn’s lips. Tate kept his head down, watching their dicks push up through his hand as he moved.

  “Kick off your shoes,” he ordered, finally lifting his head to meet Glenn’s gaze once more. “Then spread your legs even more.”

  Glenn didn’t argue, he brought his legs tight around him, pulling Tate in closer until the clop of each shoe hitting the floor could be heard. Then he widened his pant covered legs. Tate wanted him in his mouth, craved the musky flavor of his lover.

  With his other hand, he reached between them and rubbed along Glenn’s ass, as if there weren’t pants between them and he could feel his skin, push against the rosette.

  “Please.”

  Tate ran his gaze over him, shook his head and pushed him back a bit further. “Look at you, laid out on your desk for me. Shoes off, but still clothed otherwise and your fucking cock in my hand as I pump it. I see the hunger in your eyes, Glenn, but I’m not going to give it to you. You’re trying to sit there and be good while I pump this dick and stroke your ass. It’s a battle for you. You want to squirm and buck your hips. Tell me, do you want this in my mouth or my ass?”

  “Yes,” he gasped.

  “Greedy,” he acknowledged. “I fucking love it.” Tate leaned forward and dropped his lips over Glenn’s cock. The man swore and thrust up deeper into his mouth. Then Tate pulled away from his dick to kiss him. “This is going to be fun.” He lightly ran his nail over the hole on the top of his shaft, loving how the man shook. “So much fun.”

  Tate stared down at the man sleeping on the bed beside him. He’d fucked Glenn for hours until the edge had been sated enough for him to stop. That hadn’t been for a long time. Even after they left his office, he’d wanted more. The light still shone in the room and he took the opportunity to look at Glenn.

  Finally, his lover looked at peace and he wanted him to get some rest, so he quietly got out of bed, pulled the bedding up higher to make sure he stayed warm. Once he tugged on a pair of sweats, he left the bedroom and went to the kitchen.

  The house was quiet except for the howling winds buffeting everything in their path, and the crackle of the fire in the hearth. Once he checked that and built it back up, he started some coffee to drink while he went over some of the things his men had found.

  I will make this up to them.

  All of them had lives outside SWAT and yet, they put it on hold to help him keep this man alive. He stood over the papers and did his best to look at it impersonally, as he would anything else he had to do a job for. It wasn’t easy, Glenn was part of his life and he wasn’t about to let the man go this time around.

  Chapter Five

  The winter weather was killing people. It had gone from bad to worse. Shelters and churches were running overtime to do all they could for the homeless. Businesses for the most part had shut down. The mayor had asked people to stay off the roads unless absolutely imperative.

  Which explains why I’m out here instead of back home where it is safe and warm.

  Glenn shook his head, pulled up his collar a bit more in hopes it would block more of the stinging wind and snow then continued on his way. Opting to leave his car at home, he’d headed down to the local market, aware it was open for the man who ran it, lived above it. No commuting there.

  While he preferred t
o buy his food at a larger store, this would work in a pinch. Now all he had to do was make it back up the snow covered sidewalk to his house. The occasional vehicle would creep along by him as people didn’t heed the request of the mayor but for his part, he kept his head down.

  Two more streets and he’d be home where he could thaw out. He swore it was the longest two streets in history. Unlocking the door, he stepped into the warmth and groaned as it buffeted him, taking away the sting of the cold.

  Chris met him taking the bags from him.

  “You look like shit.”

  “Great, next time I’ll send you.”

  Chris grinned and shook his head. “I’m a Texas boy, this kind of weather is for the fucking birds. I’m not going out unless I have to.”

  “Keep on with that smartass mouth and you may ‘have to’ before you know it.”

  Unconcerned by his threat, Chris danced back, the groceries in hand. “I’ll be in the kitchen while you thaw out. Your boyfriend had to leave, they got called in to a situation.”

  His heart slowed and missed a few beats. Tate’s job was dangerous enough when the weather was not trying to rip the skin off your face. Adding in what was going on out there right now and he wasn’t pleased to hear this.

  Shoving his feelings down, he nodded as he shrugged out of his coat. “That’s his job.”

  “Figured you’d say something like that.” Chris put the food away as he walked through the kitchen.

  Glenn continued on, needing dry pants and socks right away.

  He got a text from Tate later in the day letting him know he was fine and would try to make it over there but he couldn’t promise.

  Without responding that way, he called and left a message. Glenn didn’t like texting. He and Chris kept themselves occupied for the day and called it a relatively early night.

  At some point the wind stopped and the entire place went silent. That woke Glenn and he bolted upright in bed, looking around, unable to make heads or tails of anything.

  He could see a very faint glow from the fireplace that snaked its way through the kitchen and down the hall to his room. Unease skittered along his spine, drenching him in uncertainty. Climbing from bed, he adjusted the drawstring of his sweats and walked through the house.

  The moment his feet hit the living room floor, he knew there was something very wrong. And he was in serious trouble.

  In the flickering shadows from the flame light, he made out not one, not two, but at least three figures. He continued to the fireplace and picked up the poker before stabbing the wood in there, making it break apart and spark. Still retaining a hold on the iron weapon, he picked up another piece of wood and added it. A few more pokes and he put on another.

  The first man moved as he reached out to return it to the holder and Glenn turned, swinging as he pivoted. He didn’t go high but went low as he’d been taught. The sharp point tore through clothes and as he ducked the incoming punch, he rotated his wrist and shoved so the end ripped into the man’s flesh.

  “Shit!” the scream was loud and echoed off the walls.

  The others swarmed him. A few shouted slurs but he didn’t think about that. His main focus was on surviving and keeping Chris out of whatever was going to happen. The room flickered and wove as a hard object kissed him on the temple.

  The poker fell from numb fingers as he sank to his knees. His life moved to slow motion as he fell sideways, as he landed, his cheek slid in blood. He didn’t know if it was his or not and right now, it didn’t matter.

  Chris. Be safe. Tate. I’m sorry.

  He closed his eyes unable to beat back the lurking darkness and just as it rose up to swath him in its cloak, a loud retort echoed through the house and he jerked as something gashed into his torso.

  “Eder!”

  Tate looked up from where he sat prowling through the information on the case. He hadn’t wanted to leave but work was work, so again, instead of pressed against his lover, he was here at the station, looking over files.

  “What’s up, Sanchez?”

  “Call for you on line four.”

  “Who is it?”

  “No clue, he wouldn’t tell me but he refused to leave a message and said he had to talk to you.”

  “Thanks.” Flipping the file cover closed, he reached for his phone and lifted the receiver. Once the handset sat against his ear, he punched the flashing button over “Line Four” on his phone.

  “Eder. How can I help you?”

  “They shot him.”

  He bolted from his chair, knocking it over behind him and he didn’t care. Leaning to brace one hand on the desk, he tried to slow the rolling and racing his mind was doing. “Chris?” The word fell from his mouth in a tortured fashion.

  What the fuck? Even as he waited for the man to continue, he dug for his cell and tried to call Glenn. It went straight to voicemail.

  “Five men broke in here. Tore the place up after they shot him. He’s bleeding and I can’t stop it.”

  Terror was palpable in his tone.

  It echoed through him like steel drums at a concert. He held up a hand and snapped his fingers. Worthington and Seamus gathered around him, eyebrows on both men up in silent question.

  “Where are you at right now?” He jotted down on a piece of paper what Chris told him.

  Thank god these men knew him and how he operated. Seamus at once took off at a run and he knew the man was going to prep the vehicle. Worthington was gathering the rest of the men.

  “Hiding with my hand over the holes in his chest. The blood isn’t stopping, and I don’t know if they’re still here or not. I can’t hear them. He didn’t let them know I was here, and he hurt some of them, I know I heard them swearing.”

  “I’m on my way. We all are. Stay quiet and stay hidden. I’m dispatching an ambulance. I’ll be on the phone until they get there and we’re coming too. I’m not sure if we will beat them or not because of the weather.”

  “Hurry.” There was fear in Chris’ tone and considering how cocky he’d been, told him what he needed to know, he was shaking from this.

  Worthington whistled and he lifted his head to find him beckoning to him. “One second, Chris.”

  “Don’t hang up on me.”

  “Just switching you to my cell phone.” He forwarded the call and touched his ear, bringing the call live. “You still with me?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Good man. Stay with me, we’re moving out now.”

  Heavy boots pounded up the white hallway as they hauled ass to the waiting RRV, rapid response vehicle. Launching up into the back, he looked around at those in there, it wasn’t the full team, but he trusted these men with him through hell and high water.

  “Hold on.” He looked at Worthington. “Who cleared the use of the Bertha?”

  “I did.”

  His CO peered back at him. “We need to go protect and secure your guy. Just an FYI, we’re all expecting to secure an invitation to the wedding.”

  “You’ll get one.” Just as soon as I reach my man and convince him to marry me. Right now, however, he was concerned with not losing Glenn, permanently.

  “How’s he doing?” Tate asked Chris.

  “Rattling in his chest, shaking and my hands are covered in his blood. I don’t know how much longer he’s going to be able to hold on.”

  They skidded on the snow, plowing through the drifts like they weren’t even there. Bless Seamus for all of his defensive winter driving courses that he took. He handled Bertha in this snowy condition like a pro.

  “Time?” he bellowed up.

  “Five minutes out, less if Bertha handles these next corners like she’s been doing.”

  “Talk to him, Chris. Don’t you fucking let him die. We’ll be there in five.” He looked over to Worthington who was strapping on his vest. “Where’s the ambulance?”

  “Behind us, they thought it would be best to follow instead of trying to plow through and getting stuck.”

&n
bsp; “The medics are coming with us, Chris. I promise, we’re almost there.”

  He could hear Chris begging Glenn not to die and tears pricked his eyes, both fear and anger inciting them. Strapping on his own vest, he checked his pistol before positioning himself by the door to be the first one out, the moment they arrived.

  “Thirty seconds,” Seamus hollered back.

  Tate cracked his neck, hand on the handle as he waited for the fishtailing to stop. The second it did, he bolted, running through the increasing snow to the front door. Behind him, Worthington called out, but he didn’t listen.

  He shouldered it open, weapon at the ready. “Chris?”

  “Back here!”

  “Go,” Worthington said behind him. Tate trusted him to have his back and methodically but quick made his way back to where he’d heard Chris call to him from.

  “Clear!” The announcement was made and echoed by the others.

  Tate forced himself to move as he stood over Chris and Glenn, the shirt Chris had balled up against him, soaked through with blood.

  “Step aside,” the brisk order came from the medic behind him. Someone shoved him out of the way, who he didn’t know nor did he care, all he could see was Glenn dying before him, because he’d not been there to protect him.

  Tears stained Chris’ face as Tate helped him to his feet, bare chested and streaked with blood. “I need you to ride with him and get checked out.”

  The young man, looked years younger than he had up until this moment.

  “I’ll find them,” he vowed.

  Chris nodded then was spirited away by another man and he looked at Seamus, Worthington and his CO.

  “I want them.” He held each of their gazes and none disputed him.

  Chapter Six

  “What do you mean you don’t know if he’s going to regain consciousness? Don’t fucking talk like that around my brother.”