Canine Cupids for Cops

by Deirdre O'Dare

  Just then there was a sound inside the doors, muffled voices and noise like some kind of a scuffle. Then a wild-looking man with a red beard and long, scraggly hair burst out, waving a pistol. He had a small child slung over his shoulder and held a plastic bag in the hand holding the youngster, bulging with unknown contents.

  “Everybody, stand clear. Don’t move until I get out of here or the kid dies.”

  Sam crouched, gathering himself for the move. Before anyone could react, he charged, dragging the nylon leash sizzling through Roy’s hand. The dog slammed into the fleeing man’s back, and as he staggered, dropping the bag, Sam grabbed hold of the arm that held the gun.

  Roy had heard that crunchy crack before. It wasn’t as close or as loud this time, but he knew what it meant. The pistol fell from the man’s nerveless fingers as he dropped to his knees. The child slid off his shoulder onto the lawn. As soon as the two officers who’d guarded the door lifted the man and snapped handcuffs on him, Sam backed off, turned around, and picked up the bag with great care. He carried it back to Roy and looked up with an expectant expression.

  “Damn, I don’t have his toy,” Roy said. “I saw on TV where a K-9 drug sniffer did this. He’s giving me the loot as a trade, and I don’t have his reward.”

  At that moment, a bunch of people burst out through the door all at once. Sam’s head came up as he turned his attention from Roy to the man who led the emerging group. The dog gave one fierce woof of joy, snatched up the bag, and headed for his partner. Craig did not have his reward toy either, but Sam didn’t seem to mind. When Craig dropped to his knees, Sam butted his head against Craig’s chest, wiggling like an excited puppy. Craig embraced him, scratched his ears, and praised him with words and pats.

  “How did you get here, buddy? It looks like you saved the day, or am I reading this all wrong?”

  One of the officers had led the red-bearded man away, and the other came back in time to hear Craig’s words. “No, you’ve got it right. This amazing dog of yours, without anyone telling him what to do, took that guy down. I never saw anything move so fast. He jerked clear of your friend there so fast I bet his hand is smoking.”

  At that moment, Craig looked up and saw Roy. A sequence of expressions flashed across the policeman’s face, too quickly to give a real sense of what he was thinking. Roy approached, cradling his rope-burned hand. It was starting to hurt like all get-out, but the fear curdling in his gut was ten times worse. He’d done a damn fool thing and even if it had turned out well, that was no credit to him. Sam could have been injured because he’d been out of control, without a handler to direct him. Under the blue flame of Craig’s intense gaze, Roy felt like he was melting. He hung his head, not knowing what to say.

  Keeping a hand on Sam’s collar, Craig got up. He shook his head, a frown and a grin fighting over his face. “I oughta whale your hide for going outside procedures and risking Sam this way, but I think you ought to get a medal too, both of you. I know Sam, and I expect he conned you into this, didn’t he? Let me think on it, and I’ll decide how to deal with you when we get home. Take Sam back, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Meekly, Roy picked up the leash in his uninjured hand. Craig spoke to the dog in a stern tone, but with a strong hint of affection. “Go, Sam. Go with Roy. Behave yourself this time and wait for me.”

  As gentle as an aged lap dog, Sam fell in at Roy’s side and walked, on a slack leash, back to the little Ford.

  * * * *

  The sun was peeking over the jagged edge of the distant mountains to open a new day when Craig finally pulled into his parking place. Sitting at the kitchen table, Roy had dozed off, Sam at his side. He hadn’t quite been willing to put the dog back in his crate when they’d returned to Craig’s apartment, so they’d waited together. Sam heard the familiar vehicle and sprang to his feet, waking Roy in the process.

  Sam seemed to have none of Roy’s misgivings about how Craig might act. Sam felt secure and was just glad to see his partner and master come home. But Roy was not nearly that settled yet. He chewed his lip, not sure whether to jump up and meet Craig at the door or take a more laid-back attitude and just wait and see.

  What if he’s still angry or upset over what happened? Will he just glare at me and tell me to get the fuck out and not come back? I mean the good part was what Sam did, and the bad part was what I did to have him there in the first place. Oh, shit. I sure wasn’t doing what I had been told…he just said to wait here for him.

  Sam met Craig in the doorway. Rearing, he put his front paws on his partner’s chest. Craig hugged the dog, scratched around his black-masked face, and then pushed him down. After that, he looked across the room at Roy. “Well? Are you glad to see me or just waiting for permission to get the hell out of here?”

  He’d folded his arms across his wide chest trying to look grim, but the grin kept sneaking out. “Oh, shit, come here, guy.”

  Roy didn’t need a second invitation. He damn near flew across the room. Craig enveloped him in a fierce hug, then held him at arm’s length, studying his face.

  “Damn, man, you surprised the hell out of me. I’m not used to having anybody worry about me. It was a shock to see Sam there and then you…I didn’t know whether to kick your ass or kiss you, or maybe both.”

  Roy returned the steady gaze, assurance seeping through him in welcoming warmth. “I know I was wrong to get Sam out of his crate, but he started fussing, and I thought maybe he had to go, so I took him out in the yard. Then he went straight to the gate and wouldn’t budge. He knew what he wanted to do, what I wanted to do too. Go find you and be sure you were okay.”

  Craig shook his head. “Damn that crazy dog. I think he reads my mind sometimes. When he was shot, the city went ahead and got a second dog and asked for a volunteer to be his handler. Joe Lopez took it. He and Pancho are doing great, but they just haven’t had near enough time to build a partnership yet. Pancho wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. I was real upset then, wishing Sam was there.

  “Joe started to go into the room where the guy was, but he got worried, afraid the scumbag would kill the kid, even with the distraction of the dog. The perp said he would anyway. I think it’s his girlfriend’s, not his, so he might have. It seems like they’d concocted this wild plan to try and get drugs. She began to squeal as soon as he went down, probably looking for clemency or a plea bargain for cooperating.”

  “I kind of figured you might be in trouble, or at least wishing Sam was there, and he picked it up. I know I didn’t have to let him do what he was asking, but it was what I felt like too. You can punish me however you see fit. It’s over and done, but I’d probably do it again if I had the chance.”

  Craig frowned for all of ten seconds. Then a smile spread like sunshine over his face. “If you really feel a need for it, I can whale your butt, but I’d just as soon not. I can think of better things to do. We have about eight hours until we both have to get ready for work, so let’s make the most of them.”

  For the second time in less than twelve hours, Roy followed Craig down the hall to his bedroom. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t what happened, for sure.

  Craig took one of his hands and led him to the bed. With a gentle push, the taller man sat him down. “I could tell from our first encounter you seem to have a thing about getting it rough, and that’s okay. I can do that—and I will sometimes—but right now I want to show you another way.”

  He reached for the hem of Roy’s T-shirt and peeled it up his torso and over his head. “I’m going to unwrap you like a present,” he said. “Because that’s how I think of you, a gift I never expected to get, a friend, a brother, and a lover all in one.” He stopped to press a firm but gentle kiss on Roy’s lips, half-open in amazement. Then he went on, for a moment gazing past Roy with a thousand-yard stare.

  He’s got bad memories too. I knew it. Somehow, I just knew it.

  “I was raised an only child by a father cast in the German officer para
digm, a martinet to end them all. Whatever I did was never good enough. I finally gave up trying. Telling him I was gay was my ultimate revenge. I thought he’d have a stroke. Of course he disowned me. It’s been a lonely road since then. Really it always was. I’ve had lovers, but they’ve never stayed around, never really touched me. Somehow, you’re different.”

  Craig set warm hands on Roy’s shoulders, slid his palms down Roy’s arms to the wrists, and clasped his fingers around them for a moment. Roy sat transfixed, unable to move, to do anything but absorb the invading heat of Craig’s hands and the strange cherishing tenderness of his touch. Nothing had ever felt quite like that before. Maybe the nearest was that hug he’d shared with Frank and Kerry the day they busted Gary Steadman, the three of them working together. It felt like coming home—even though he’d never had a real home to return to until this moment.

  Dropping to his knees in front of Roy, Craig shifted his clasp back to Roy’s shoulders and then trailed both hands down his body, shaping every muscle as if to memorize each hollow and hump, every small scar and strand of fine golden hair. Roy shivered. The touch tickled because it was so light, so gentle, and yet it spread fire through every nerve, a sparkle of dancing heat flickering over his skin.

  At last Craig reached the top of Roy’s jeans. He unfastened the belt buckle, freed the top button on the waistband, then he hesitated for a long instant. Roy’s cock swelled, bucking against the restraint of denim and zipper, already anticipating the touch of those strong but careful fingers. With exquisite slowness, Craig lowered the zipper. It sounded very loud in the morning silence.

  Roy leaned back, resting on his elbows on the bed, widening his knees to allow Craig to lean closer. He arched up to let the jeans slip out from under his butt and down his legs. The fly of his shorts gaped as his cock thrust out through it. The warmth of Craig’s breath whispered across the aroused flesh as he bent down to nuzzle around the base of Roy’s erection.

  “I love the smell of you, the feel, and soon the taste. I want it all.”

  “Yes. Please,” Roy whispered. “It’s yours. Everything I have is yours.”

  In answer, Craig captured Roy’s prick in one hand and clasped his fingers around it. He slid the hand up to the head and back to the base in a long, slow stroke. Once. Twice. Three times. Roy’s balls tightened and twitched, aching with urgency.

  Damn, I don’t want to come yet…

  A few hours ago when Craig had fucked him, he’d been able to hold back, even when Craig had swatted him. This time he wasn’t sure he could. It was a new kind of excitement, different without the pain or the shadow of fear. Yet it was no less potent.

  As if Craig sensed Roy’s wish to prolong it as long as possible, he quit jacking Roy off. After a few torturous seconds, his lips found the head of Roy’s dick, his tongue swiped across the slit and then swirled around the head. Roy bit back a groan. Moments later, Craig widened his mouth and almost swallowed Roy whole. He started sucking in a slow but steady rhythm that accelerated until Roy was humping, thrusting desperately into the engulfing heat of Craig’s mouth.

  He came in an explosive burst, his body jerking with the force of it. His fingers clenched in Craig’s short-cropped hair, holding him down, wanting the waves of sensation to go on and on, yet unable to endure much more. With a final spurt, he subsided, falling back limp and spent onto the bed.

  When he recovered enough to focus his eyes again, Roy discovered Craig was looking down at him with a smile that was almost smug. “Now what, buddy?”

  “Fuck me in the ass again.”

  “You sure? That’s what you really want?”

  Roy nodded. “I’m asking…no, begging. Do it, please do it.” He flipped over onto his belly, his legs hanging off the bed.

  Craig finished undressing in record time, grabbed the tube of lube he’d used earlier and swiped a generous amount along the crack of Roy’s ass with one finger, then worked it into Roy’s asshole. Moments later, his powerful cock penetrated, thrusting deep into Roy’s body, claiming, taking, branding with a fierce yet loving intensity.

  Roy didn’t come again, but the feeling was just as intense as he felt the spurt of Craig’s climax, and they both whooped their ecstasy together.

  After he recovered, Craig squinted at the clock. “It’s just nine,” he said. “We can grab a nap and then get up and get ready for work. If you want to go on home, I’ll understand, but I’d like to wake up with you here beside me, starting today and for a long time to come.”

  Roy hesitated. “I’d like to move in with you as soon as we can work it out, but will there be a problem for you if I do? Will the other cops think less of you or the city council give you a ration of shit?”

  “I’ve never made a secret of being gay. I don’t rub anybody’s nose in it, but if we’re cool in public I don’t think anyone will say a word. Just don’t make a habit of coming to my rescue whenever things get a little tense. That would ruin my rep.”

  Roy looked down, unable to meet Craig’s bright blue gaze. “Yeah, in retrospect that was really a dumb-ass stunt. And I could’ve gotten Sam hurt. I’m sorry. I won’t do that again. Maybe if I had my own stuff to take care of…I was thinking maybe I could see about updating my certification and becoming an EMT, or even getting into search and rescue. Tending bar is okay for a temporary thing, but I don’t want to make a life career of it. I’m ready to look to the future now. If I went into SAR, do you think could we manage two dogs in one house?”

  Craig laughed. “We’ll do whatever we have to do, partner. If you got a female dog, I think Sam wouldn’t mind a bit, and I’ve heard they often do real well in SAR. Come on, though. We need to grab some shut eye before we have to go fight crime and serve drinks. Get your ass in bed.”

  Feeling a sense of contentment like he’d never known, Roy slid under the sheet and curled close to Craig’s back.

  In less than twenty-four hours, my life’s taken an amazing new turn, and like the commercial says, I’m loving it.

  THE END

  Author’s Note

  In memory of the many courageous and faithful K-9 officers both human and dog who have fallen in the line of duty. I intend only honor on your sacrifice with my portrayals of Sam and Craig. Especially to Bandit and Rico, two four-footed heroes. May you find peace and contentment on the other side of The Rainbow Bridge.

  Sincere thanks to the K-9 team with Goliath of the Sierra Vista Police Department. They were an inspiration for this story. Goliath was my first experience with the Belgian Malinois breed and a most impressive example!

  Schnickelfritz in Love

  Chapter 1

  Las Cruces, New Mexico

  August 12, 4:30 P.M.

  Jake Rasmussen stuck his key into the lock and gave it a twist. The battered door swung inward, releasing a welcome blast of cool air and a rocket-propelled bundle of fuzzy energy. Snick—formally known as Schnickelfritz Schnauzerstein—damn near ran up one side of his master and down the other.

  “Awright, ya little shitbird. You’re glad to see me. That’s cool. I’m glad to see you too, but you’ve got too fuckin’ much enthusiasm. Gimme a minute, will ya? After I have a beer, we’ll go to the dog park. Promise.”

  The Miniature Schnauzer wove between Jake’s legs and twisted in dizzy circles around him as he made his way across the stamp-sized living room of his apartment to the kitchen alcove, jerked open the fridge door, and pulled out a brown bottle. That first cold swig was pure heaven after long hours at work in the Las Cruces August steam. The monsoon season was in full swing and a dry heat it was not. A passing shower had just made the air feel more like a sauna.

  Jake set the beer on the dinette table and dug a rumpled bandana from a pocket of his jeans to wipe the runnels of sweat off his face. Something about coming in to a cooler place and taking a few cold swallows really got it running. With a little luck, he could postpone Snick’s afternoon expedition for half an hour or so. Not that it would be much cooler, but every littl
e bit helped.

  He ambled back to the living room and flopped into the comfort of his worn recliner. “Can we watch the five-o’clock news first, buddy?”

  The dog seemed to consider this for a moment, then hopped up to perch on Jake’s knees. The man reached for the remote, then remembered he’d left his beer in the kitchen.

  Aw, shit. Well, it won’t get too warm for a few minutes. I ought to teach this mutt to fetch. Ha, first I’d have to be smarter than the dog. For the half-Greek son of a Swedish sailor, who barely got through high school, that might not be possible. Jake punctuated the thought with a wry chuckle. If Snick was an example, Schnauzers were damn smart dogs.

  Snick was charcoal gray, and the bristly hair around his face gave him an old-man look that his bright eyes and abundant energy belied. Jake had just happened to see the notice from the local animal shelter—too many dogs meant some of them would have to go soon, either by adoption or by being put to sleep. Although he’d loved dogs as a kid, his mom had refused to allow one, citing the family’s frequent moves. His construction work still kept him moving often, yet he thought he could fit a smaller dog into his life. After all, he’d always gotten along with his friend’s dogs, often even better than they did.

  Snick, the shelter people told him, had been a puppy mill stud for the first few years of his life. Taken in a raid along with a bunch of others, he was just a tad past the cute puppy stage that appealed to many seeking a pet. He was also a bit cantankerous at times, but had improved with some socializing by the shelter staff in the weeks he’d been housed there. Despite the dog’s shortcomings, Jake took to the feisty little guy at once and brought him home the next day. Actually, they were a pretty good match—two loners with some bad baggage from the past and a well-hidden need to have someone to care for. They’d been together over a year now. So far it worked.