by J. D. Walker
“I should make you pay for that,” Simms murmured as he helped me undress.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I replied as I unzipped his leather pants and pushed them down his hips once I was naked. “I just wanted some coffee.” I pulled the turtleneck he’d been wearing over his head and then knelt at his feet, sucking on his cock through his moist underwear. “God, you smell good.”
“You smell even better,” he said, running his hands through my hair as I pushed down his briefs before he kicked them off. His cum from earlier glistened and I couldn’t help myself. I sucked on the head, making him jerk and grip my hair—I loved that—and then I took him all the way down, then swallowed.
His shout made me smile around his cock. I sucked him for minutes on end, backing off whenever he was near the end until finally, I let him come and swallowed every tasty drop.
“Fuckin’ hell, professor,” he said as he gripped my head and pounded my throat through his release.
I got to my knees with a pop or two and pointed to the bed. “On your stomach, Detective.” When he was settled, I placed a couple pillows beneath his hips and grabbed a condom and lube from the bedside table.
Simms didn’t bottom often, but he loved it whenever I took control. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” he said, turning his head to smile at me.
“I punched you in the face. That’s one hell of a story to tell our friends when we get older.” Something I hoped was true.
“You have a great right hook, you know.” He grinned at me and then moaned when one of my fingers breached his hole with lube.
“I had lots of practice as a kid. My dad taught me how to defend myself.” I had two fingers in his ass now, and though the sadness of my dad’s loss threatened, I kept it together. Simms knew, though.
“Hey.” He pulled out my hand and turned over to look at me. “Your dad would be so proud of you. Remember that, yeah?”
I nodded, took a deep breath, then pushed him on his back instead. Simms spread his legs and pushed his knees into his chest. “You know I love your tongue, baby. Gimme.” He clenched his hole, and just like that, my mind was back in the game.
“Anything for you, Detective.” And I meant it. I stuck my face in his ass and slurped his hole like a melting ice cream cone on a hot summer’s day. The sounds he made spurred me on until he was hard again. I moved back and stuck three fingers inside this time, finding his prostate and rubbing it, causing him to leak.
“You, baby. I want you.” His eyes were closed and back arched. How could I resist such beauty?
I opened the packet, rolled the condom down and made sure I had enough lube before aiming at my target and thrusting home. God, he was tight. His ass was perfect. I trembled with the need to move, but he needed to adjust.
It didn’t take long before he clenched my dick and said, “Move, baby. Please?”
Such a pretty request. I complied. He wrapped his long legs around my waist and grabbed onto my shoulders, moving with me to that engrained rhythm, sweat on our bodies, his skin gleaming, lips too luscious to resist. I kissed him messily, caressed his muscles, pinched his nipples, sucked his tongue. He did the same, focusing on my love handles. I would have bruises there in the morning. Something to remember our night together.
We came together, bodies in tune, shouting our release and not caring if the neighbors could hear us. I loved Simms. God, I loved him.
* * * *
I made us breakfast late the next morning with Rapunzel twining around our legs as if she’d never been fed, ever. I mean, her food and water were right there! Anyway, since Simms had another day of personal time away from the precinct and I had also taken a personal day, we decided to spend our day together.
He kept some clothes in my chest of drawers and was now wearing sweats and an old long-sleeved T-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. At the moment, he was behind me at the stove, biting my neck and basically making the best nuisance of himself that was possible.
“How am I supposed to cook when you’re latched onto me like a limpet?” I asked as I attempted to flip an omelet then stir the hash browns while he massaged my tummy and kneaded my cock. It was a complaint in name only. I truly didn’t care.
“You’re a smart guy. I know you can figure it out.” Right. I turned my head to glare at him, which was the wrong thing to do since he liked my glares and proceeded to suck my tongue so hard, I leaked. Only the fact that I hated burned food kept me from pushing him to the floor right then and having my way. Repeatedly.
A few hot and bothered minutes later, we sat down to our meal, with coffee, and discussed what we would do the rest of the day. We had almost decided on a matinee when there was a knock on the door. Frowning, since I rarely had guests aside from Simms, Randy and, well, Jerry, in the past, I got up and went to open the door, Simms following behind me with the plate of food he was still eating.
It was Henry and Jerry. Okay…
“Oh hell, no,” I heard Simms say and I turned to him with a look. His eyes narrowed, but he shut up.
“Guys. What’s going on?” I crossed my arms on my chest and waited. I hadn’t spoken to them since Simms had lit into Jerry weeks ago. It hadn’t even come up on my radar, which gave me pause. I had to admit Jerry looked…good. Not that I wanted to sleep with him or anything, but he seemed more…settled, I guess. Less slutty, maybe? I dunno. Either way, I had been sad about the way things had ended between us, but after Simms, I realized I’d been settling and not standing up for what I really wanted. It took the experience with Jerry to teach me that, and strangely enough, I was thankful. Sort of.
Henry was smiling and Jerry looked sheepish but happy. “We wanted to tell you that we’re getting married,” Henry said, holding up a hand with a ring that was likely worth my month’s paycheck. Seriously? My mouth dropped open in shock. I heard Simms choke on something and start coughing.
“Say what…uh, congratulations, I guess?” I stopped, since I wasn’t making things any better. I took a breath and started over. “Sorry, you caught me by surprise. When’s the big day?”
“Six months from now, at Henry’s parents’ farm,” Jerry said. “We’d like to invite you and your superhot significant other—” he looked behind me and grinned, and I could almost feel Simms, um, simmering behind me “—if you can make it.” Henry elbowed him in the ribs and he coughed. “Sorry. I’m a flirt. It’s what I do.”
Henry whispered, “Behave” before Jerry continued, “Seriously, though, you’d both be welcome, and I apologize for my behavior the last time we ran into each other. I…can be a bit much, I know.” He placed an arm around Henry’s waist and hugged the man to his side. Henry kissed Jerry’s cheek and snuggled close. Huh. I guess there’s someone for everyone.
They stared at me expectantly, so I said, “Thanks for the invitation. We’ll see if we can make it. And we appreciate the apology, don’t we, Simms?” I looked at my lover, who glowered at me. I glowered back.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, then pinched my ass and kissed me with lots of tongue before heading back down the hall. Not marking his territory. At all.
“Seriously, that is one hot man,” Henry said, and I looked at him in surprise. “What? It’s true. Isn’t that right, baby?” he added, proceeding to make out with Jerry right in front of me. Okay, that’s enough of that.
“Yeah, uh, thanks, guys, and congratulations again.” I shut the door on them, practically humping each other in the hallway yet again. I did not need to see that while I still had breakfast to finish. Bad enough the sight of them was stuck in my head.
Simms had finished his meal and was drinking coffee. “They gone?” he asked, scowling at me.
“Yup. Started kissing and groping each other so I shut the door. Jesus.” I finished my hash browns and drank my lukewarm coffee.
“What does Henry see in that guy, anyway?” Simms asked as he got up to place his plate in the dishwasher.
“I don’t know and I don’t care. T
hey are not our problem.” I added my dishes to his, and when we finished cleaning the kitchen, I grabbed his semi-hard crotch and said, “But I believe that you have a problem, and I think you need to be taught some manners, Detective Simms.”
He licked his lips and pushed against my hand. “I do. I really do.”
I let go and walked out of the kitchen, with Simms close behind. “School’s in session. Come along.”
I would have to give him an “A” later for enthusiastic and creative class participation. It was like we couldn’t get enough of each other. And when we went to the matinee showing of whatever we watched, we sat in the back in an empty row and had our own make out session that I dared Henry and Jerry to beat. Well, maybe I shouldn’t place that bet. Out loud, anyway.
By the time Simms left for home that night in preparation for working the next day, we were wrung out, sore and happy. I could deal with his erratic schedule because I knew he was with me, body and soul. I just needed to figure out what I really wanted to do with my life, and how to tell him the dreaded words, “I love you.”
Chapter 7
Having Simms by my side made up for the crap-filled days that invariably occurred as a bus driver. And I was there when he had a really bad day, or the occasional nightmare, like the night last week when he’d woken up yelling.
I took him to my dad’s gravesite in the middle of December since Simms was available, surprisingly, at least for a few hours, fingers crossed. It had been a long time since I had visited, and there were leaves and other detritus everywhere. Simms helped me clean it all up and we stood there in our winter jackets and skullcaps as I stared at my dad’s gravestone and reminisced. When it was too cold to stay out any longer, Simms and I went over to his place, a two-bedroom apartment that was always pristine now, according to him, because he spent most of his time with me.
He made lasagna that evening and we had red wine, garlic bread and a salad with our meal. Halfway through the meal and most of the bottle of wine, I blurted out, “Want to move in together?” causing him to drop his fork on the floor.
He bent over to pick it up. “What brought this on?” he asked as he wiped the utensil on his napkin and continued eating. Uh-oh.
I wasn’t sure what to think of his response, though to be fair, it had been out of the blue. “Is that a ‘no’?”
“It’s just sudden, is all.” He bit into some garlic bread and licked butter away from the corner of his mouth. I wouldn’t be distracted. Not now. This was too important.
“How is this sudden?” I asked, frowning.
He shrugged and drank some wine. “I’ve never been this far in a relationship before since all my partners kept their apartments or whatever. Where would we be living, your place or mine?”
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead, but why is this sudden?” I asked again. “We have a connection, don’t we? And I love you…” Shit, the red wine. It always affected me like that.
The look of shock and trepidation he gave me then wasn’t encouraging. “Those are heavy words, Fitz. You sure it’s not the sex talking?”
I set my utensils carefully aside. “Please do not confuse me with Jerry. I’m sorry if I blindsided you, but it’s the truth.”
“I’m also the first guy, according to your own admission, who has treated you like a human being, and not a hole. How can you be sure that you’re not confusing those feelings of…I dunno, gratitude, with love?” Dude…
Okay, dinner was ruined, and I was officially pissed, though this could partially be my fault. Partially. “Seriously? You can say that, to me, after the things we’ve gone through together?”
“Simmer down, Fitz. I’m just saying that ‘love’ is a heavy word and I’ve seen relationships suffer because of ‘love’, whatever definition you use. My mother, for example.”
“I am not your mother!” Okay, perhaps yelling wasn’t helpful. But still. “Do not condescend to me.”
“Really? Because you let Jerry walk all over you like a doormat.”
Okay, that was low. “Over the line, man.”
“Truth hurts, does it?” Now he was being deliberately hurtful.
“You’re taking out your fears about the level of commitment that love implies on me and being an asshole. Do you want me to punch you again?” Because I would. He was begging for it.
“I’m not!” he yelled back. Why is this so hard to understand? Why are you changing something that was just fine as it was, without labels?” He was scared.
We were getting nowhere, and I had just discovered Simms’s Achilles heel. “So, you don’t love me, or you can’t?”
He threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know what love is! How can I, with the examples I grew up with? How can I trust anything with that label? Why change what’s working?”
I suppose I should have seen this coming. Things had been going well, almost too much so. The one guy with whom I had connected on every level in my whole sorry life didn’t trust in love, which meant that he couldn’t give me what I’ve always yearned for: a forever partner who felt the same way.
Still, I was grateful for Simms, for what we’d had together. I would never doubt myself again, or my worth, or base it on another man’s opinion. I knew who I was, and what I wanted. And he had helped with that. Funny that I had both Jerry and Simms to thank for that.
“Truce, please. It’s okay. You’re right and I’m sorry. Let’s finish our meal.” Conversation was stilted after that, but we tried, like the adults we claimed to be.
I thanked Simms for our day together, for spending time with me and Dad at his graveside, and for our meal. At the door, I said, “Simms, I didn’t mean to freak you out just now, but at least you know what I want, what I’ve always wanted. Perhaps that’s something I should have said sooner, but I didn’t know that I would find someone like you, ever. If that kind of love, or whatever you want to call it, is something you can give, then I’m all yours, but if not, I understand. Or at least, I’ll try to. Not saying it will be easy, though.”
I gave him a sad smile and kissed his cheek. “Call me if you want to hangout, or just need a break. You can keep the key to my apartment because you still need a place to crash, yeah? I can still be a friend, if you want me to be, though I’m sure you have several. Don’t worry about the stuff you have there. If you decide at some point that you want it all back, I’ll box it up and take it to the station. They practically know me by name now.”
“Fitz…” Simms looked at me, his bewildered gaze seemingly unsure of what had gone wrong. I knew, but he may never get a clue.
“See you around, Detective Simms.” Okay, maybe that last bit wasn’t fair, but it had just slipped out. I took the stairs to the lobby and headed to visitor parking to get my truck. I made the hour-long trip home, my heart achy. At least I knew where I stood now.
* * * *
I didn’t hear from Fitz for almost two weeks, aside from a few quick texts, initiated by him. I’d kept my responses brief so as not to complicate things, but I had seen the uptick in crime, courtesy of the news and the fact that the Christmas season tended to bring out the crazies; so, I knew he was swamped with work. When he finally called me, I was heading out to work yet another night shift route because a lot of drivers had called out sick, what with it being Christmas Day tomorrow. I didn’t celebrate Christmas much anymore, not since dad and I used to do it, many years ago. It was typical of this month, and I had been doing a lot of overtime lately, especially since Simms was…whatever he was to me now. At least I’d gotten a nap that afternoon. I was tired, though.
“Hey, Fitz,” Simms said, his deep voice still stirring things deep within me. I had him on speaker phone as I drove to the bus depot. Traffic sucked.
“Hi, Simms. What’s up? You working?” I waited at the traffic light while watching a near miss as a car almost hit a pedestrian in the crosswalk. She was chewing out the driver, who was yelling back at her.
“Busy, like always.” He sounded distracted
. “Can I come by tonight? I haven’t slept in a couple of days and I need a place to crash. That okay?” The slight hesitance hurt my heart, but I would be true to my word. I would be his friend, if he needed it.
“Sure thing. I won’t be there, though, since I’m working tonight, so I won’t see you when I get in tomorrow.”
“Again? Didn’t we talk about this?”
“Sure, but it hardly matters now, right? I have to go, Simms. There’s food and beer in the refrigerator, like usual. Have a nice evening, and be safe.”
“Fitz, wait. I—” I ended the call and turned into the bus station parking area. There was no good ending to that conversation, anyway.
A few minutes later after I clocked in and got my bus number and keys, Larry, who had just arrived to work his own shift, took one look at my face and said, “What’s wrong?” He knew all about what had happened between Simms and me. How I’d screwed everything up.
I shrugged. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Liar.”
“No really. Simms is coming over tonight to crash. I won’t be there, as you know. He thinks I’m letting the company take advantage of me, and told him to be safe and hung up on him. End of story.”
“Fitz, if things continue like this, someone’s likely to get hurt even more. You’re both hurting.” At my look he said, “Yes, even Simms. You changed things up on him, and he doesn’t know how to take it. He might even feel betrayed. So, you told the man what you wanted, and he didn’t reciprocate. That doesn’t make him a bad person. Just not what you expected. Either adapt or move on. Stop punishing yourself, and him.”
He was right. I knew this. But it was hard.
* * * *
By ten o’clock the next morning, I was exhausted. I could barely make my limbs move, and by the time I reached my apartment, I was asleep on my feet. I unlocked the door and stumbled inside, barely registering that my keys were being taken from my hand and the door locked behind me.
“Wha—?” A yawn cut-off my words.
“Shh,” Simms said. “Let me take care of you.” I was too tired to object. What was he still doing here anyway?
