by Jay Hogan
In response, Josh purred. “I could go to sleep.” And Michael resisted the urge to tuck him up to do just that.
They were silent a minute or so, and Josh wriggled closer, if that were even possible. How such a tall man managed to cuddle in and around Michael like a soft ball of muscle was baffling. Gone was bossy, toppy Josh, and in his place, this soft, pliant pussycat. Michael couldn’t have said which he preferred, more than happy to welcome both.
“So,” Josh mumbled against his skin. “What’s the verdict, Mr ‘I don’t bottom well’?”
Michael grinned to himself. “It was… fine.”
Josh snorted. “Fine?” He bit Michael’s nipple, hard.
“Ow. Cut it out. Okay, so I may have understated it a bit.” Michael pulled Josh up until they were eye to eye. “I’m thinking… good. That’s better than fine, right? Yeah, let’s go with good.”
Josh growled and reached down to grab Michael’s soft dick in his hand. He gave a few gentle tugs, and damn if the thing didn’t immediately perk right up. He certainly had a way with that part of Michael’s anatomy.
Lifting himself on an elbow, Josh eyeballed Michael. “Seems you need a little more convincing. Up for another round?” His hand slid behind Michael’s balls to lightly tap his hole. “Seeing as how you’re so nice and relaxed.”
Michael’s ass was, in point of fact, throbbing in protest at the mere thought. His traitorous dick on the other hand had failed to get the memo and was standing ever hopeful at half-mast. Josh was a cock whisperer.
Josh glanced down. “Someone agrees with me.”
Michael lifted Josh’s chin with his fingers and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “He’s thinking it’s his turn next, that’s why,” he whispered against Josh’s mouth. “’Cause there’s no way that monster of yours is getting anywhere near my battered ass again for the foreseeable future.”
Josh grinned. “Monster, huh? As for the other, well, I’m all for equal opportunity.” He returned the kiss, then patted Michael’s chest. “But unfortunately, not today.” He drew slow circles around Michael’s nipple with a finger. “I need a shower, food, and time to get Paris ready for our shift.”
Josh swung his legs over the side of the bed, the loss of warmth a shock to Michael’s system. He resisted the urge to pull Josh back under the covers and kiss him into surrender, settling for delaying his departure with a hand on his arm.
“In answer to your earlier question,” Michael said quietly, “the true verdict? It was fucking awesome. I may not graduate to true nelly-bottom, card-carrying, believer status,” he teased, “but I’m definitely willing to attend the refresher classes.”
A grin of pure delight settled on Josh’s face, and a surge of warmth shot through Michael, hitting him with absolute clarity. He wanted to please this man. He wanted to see that smile. He wanted to be responsible for putting it there, and the realisation terrified him. He needed to get whatever this was the fuck under control or finish it.
Josh planted a kiss on his forehead and headed for the shower. Left alone, Michael began pondering the risks Josh posed to his uncomplicated life. The shower turned on, and he briefly wondered if he should join Josh but dismissed the thought. A bit of distance was for the best right about now.
A head poked around the door. “You joining me?” Josh wore a grin from ear to ear.
Michael scrambled out of bed and followed without a second thought. That distance shit could start tomorrow.
CHAPTER SIX
JOSH COULDN’T remember feeling so buzzed in a long time. Mark had been right. He’d needed to get laid. Like really, really needed to get laid. And more than just a quick blow or anonymous hand job. Not that Michael was much more serious than that, but he wasn’t quite a passing fuck either. The man had some skills between the sheets, and there was no doubt they worked together in bed, possibly the best Josh had ever had.
Michael was gorgeous, true, but he also had a quick bantering humour Josh enjoyed, giving as good as he got. Josh loved sex, but he had little time for quick and dirty as a model. He preferred the slow-burn buildup almost as much as the bang at the end, and he’d been pleased to find Michael on board with the notion.
He grinned. Topping the guy had been a blast. Josh went either way and didn’t usually force the issue, but there was something about Michael that had him cranked up. For all his posturing and self-importance, Josh had caught a glimpse of a softer, more vulnerable side to Michael Oliver, one that would normally be worth exploring. Having Michael accept his dick was damn near the most erotic thing Josh had ever experienced.
Michael was a puzzle. Even before they’d hit the bedroom, Josh had decided he’d push to top, especially when he learned Michael didn’t usually bottom. The look on his face had been hilarious, and so he’d been more than a little surprised when Michael fell into line relatively easily. It had made Josh determined to look after the guy.
What Josh hadn’t been prepared for was how relaxing it felt to be in Michael’s arms after. Even the shared hand jobs in the shower afterwards had ended with them both on the shower floor, Michael wrapped in Josh’s arms, talking back and forth about softball and rugby and eventually the assault. Josh sponged Michael’s bruised and battered body, pressing kisses against his neck and shoulders as he talked. It was the decent thing to do, Josh reassured himself, nothing more.
The afternoon had only highlighted how much he missed Jase in his life and his bed. He didn’t want the fucker back, but snuggling had been their thing, or at least Josh’s thing. It was perhaps what he missed the most, and the biggest reason he didn’t do the hookup scene. At least Michael hadn’t kicked Josh out of his bed straight after. That was something, he supposed.
He thought of his upcoming coffee date with Brent and debated cancelling it. The guy was nice but nothing about him sparked Josh in the same way that Michael did. But Michael had been very clear that he didn’t want a relationship. And after this afternoon, Josh knew that he at least was ready for just that. It was just a damn shame Oliver wasn’t on board with the same idea.
He scribbled a note for Katie, apologising for being such a dick that morning. Then, about to leave for his shift, he caught the message light flashing on his home phone. It was the principal of Sasha’s school, wanting a word with Josh when he had time. Shit. He returned the call, and after the niceties had been covered, Erin got down to her concerns.
“I don’t know if Sasha mentioned the family project her class is working on?” she checked.
When Josh made it clear she hadn’t, the woman continued. “Okay, well, its focus is on grandparents.”
Josh’s stomach clenched. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess where this was going. “Go on.”
“We’re asking the kids to interview their grandparents about their childhood experiences. To see how things are different for children today, better or worse. The object is to talk about change in generational understanding, nothing heavy or contentious.”
“I sense a but,” Josh ventured, and caught the sigh at the other end of the phone.
“But,” Erin repeated, “Sasha is having some difficulties.”
Josh was cautious not to jump to conclusions. “Because of me?”
“No,” Erin leaped to dismiss the idea. “Well, not directly.”
Josh tried to keep his temper locked down. “I’m sure she’s not the only one with a different family situation, Erin,” he commented dryly. “With divorce rates and custody issues and so on, having a gay dad can’t be the only sensitive topic out there.”
“Josh, please.” Erin sighed. “It’s got little to do with you being gay, as such. In fact, we told Sasha she didn’t even need to mention it. After all, we don’t expect other kids to talk about their parents’ sexuality with their grandparents.”
Thank God. Josh relaxed a little. The woman really did try. “Good. Then what’s the problem?”
“Sasha doesn’t want to involve your parents at all. She’s happy to talk to
Anna’s parents but is adamant about not talking to yours. Along those lines, there was a bit of a scene in the classroom today, and she got very upset. Now, I know there have been difficulties there, and I’m quite prepared to make an exception for her if that’s what you want, but I suspected she hadn’t actually talked to you, hence the phone call. I just thought you should know.”
Josh sighed. “You’re right. I didn’t know. I’ll talk to her and get back to you. Thanks, Erin.” Damn.
Josh wondered how to recover his good mood, the one that had just gone up in billowing furls of shitty smoke. For a ridiculous second, he actually considered talking to Michael. Right. The guy didn’t even know he had a daughter. He checked his watch. They were due at Dog Base in forty-five minutes.
THE DEBRIEF on the joint exercise took about an hour. The remainder of Josh’s shift was spent filing paperwork, running through training exercises with the dogs, and a two-hour call out to track and pursue a juvenile home invasion suspect in New Lynn. Another K9, Rage, had been the one to actually nail the boy in the back of a theatre car park. The kid was on his knees with exhaustion, barely able to speak let alone put up a struggle. Rage’s handler, Colin Hardy, had the kid cuffed and banged up in no time. Josh and Paris were needed only as backup singers. Mark had been the detective on the scene, giving Josh an opportunity to check on progress in Michael’s assault case.
“The doc’s coming in tomorrow after the funeral, to finish going through the image file,” Mark said. “The bottle threw up a partial, but not enough for a useful ID.”
“Shit.” Josh had hoped for better news.
“Yeah.” Mark scratched Paris’s ears, earning him a sloppy tonguing from the shepherd. “But we lucked out on the car used to pick them up.”
Josh’s ears pricked.
“A teenage boy supervising the family dog’s evening piss caught the vehicle’s rubber burning exit and got us a partial plate and a make—Subaru wagon, dark blue or black. That plus the partial threw up three possible hits but only one sent up flags. Great fucking red billowing flags.”
Josh cocked an eyebrow. “No shit.”
Though they weren’t standing close, Mark pulled Josh farther from Hardy, who was busy writing up his notes in his vehicle. “An eighteen-year-old kid named Bradley Keenan,” Mark elaborated. “Nothing but a few drunk and disorderly, threatening behaviour, and shoplifting arrests, but for the last year he’s been hanging with members of the Hell Spinners. A wannabe, most like. And wouldn’t you know it, by coincidence, there’s word of a new/old face in town with deep ties to that pack of shitheads. Denton Cruz.”
Cruz. Josh frowned. He’d recognised the last name straight off. “As in Sampson Cruz, head dickhead of the Hell Spinners?”
Mark nodded. “The one and only. His son.”
Josh gave a low whistle. “Big fish, then.”
“Well, Daddy is. Largest supplier of P north of Taupo. Mean motherfucker too. Word has it his son is keen to prove himself. Apparently, good old Dad has kidney disease and is looking to hand over some of his responsibilities. Denton’s only twenty, more brawn than brain but nasty, just like his dad.
“Older brother Kane just got ten years for car theft and burglary, so he’s out of the picture for a bit. Sampson has a lieutenant, though. A cousin who’s got a decent brain and would’ve been the default choice but for Denton’s sudden reappearance. He’s apparently pissed as fuck about it. Denton meanwhile has been trying to prove his worth by running the street scene these last few months. He could well be our man at Downtown G and at your boyfriend’s.”
Josh frowned. “Yeah, that’s not much of a stretch. And, not my boyfriend, dickhead.”
Shit. It was just what Auckland didn’t need. A fucking power struggle in its already volatile drug network controlled primarily by the gangs. P—crystal, meth, ice, whatever you wanted to call it—was the number-one drug problem in New Zealand and accounted for a significant percentage of the profits of even half-decent suppliers.
The country had one of the worst per-capita meth problems in the world, second only, along with Australia, to Thailand. Three point four percent of the population used the damn drug. Social fallout was massive, especially in the lower-income suburbs of Auckland, and Josh had seen it all first-hand, taking Paris on countless P lab busts.
“So how come I’ve never heard of this kid?” he puzzled.
Mark shrugged. “Sampson stashed him with his ex in Wellington the last few years. Apparently, his new lady at that time didn’t want any previous spawn around. Then Dad got sick and called the prodigal home.”
Josh nodded. “So being banged up for killing Cory and stabbing Jackson would fair screw with his chance of taking over Daddy’s empire. More than enough motivation to take a few risks to silence a witness.”
Mark nodded. “More than enough.” He waved a hand as another detective called his name. “Gotta go, sunshine. I’ll keep you informed.” He slid Josh a sly grin. “How’s the witness doing, then?”
Josh felt his cheeks warm. Fuck. There should be pills for that shit. “Fine. Katie’s got him staying as long as he wants.”
Mark’s eyes twinkled. “Has she now? Remind me to thank her. Should be entertaining if nothing else.”
“Fucker.”
Mark chuckled and left Josh stabbing the ground with his shoe.
AN HOUR later he’d managed to clock out on time for once and was sitting in his driveway. The house was in darkness other than the kitchen window, so there’d be no opportunity to talk to Sasha until morning. He checked his phone. Three texts from Oliver in the past hour.
Michael: Still feeling the burn. Need you to kiss it better.
Josh snorted. The guy was an arse.
Michael: Rematch tomorrow?
Michael: My turn.
Josh’s dick twitched. Of course it did. Damn thing had been starved of attention for a century. He glanced up the road toward Katie’s house. A soft light glowed from her front bedroom. He typed a reply.
Josh: I’ll call you.
He grinned. The standard “morning after” dismissal wouldn’t go unnoticed.
The reply came back instantly.
Michael: F***n tease.
Josh grinned and headed inside to get some sleep.
NEXT MORNING, he was up at seven. He intended to tackle Sasha about the family project shit before she left for school. Katie was already up, finishing breakfast at the table. She listened in silence as he caught her up.
“You knew this was coming, right?” she said pointedly. “Sasha’s been getting more and more reluctant to see them. Last time you dropped her off with them, she called me every couple of hours while you were at work, begging to be picked up early.”
Josh tipped his head back and closed his eyes. “Yeah, I know.” He dropped his eyes to hers once more, knowing Katie struggled as much as he did with the whole parent-disaster thing. He added, “But when I try to talk with her, she just clams up. I don’t know what else I can do. Does she talk to you?”
Katie shook her head. “Not really. But I think it’s because she knows I’d tell you and she doesn’t want to make things harder for you. I think she’s protecting you.”
“Just what I need,” he grumbled. “My own daughter feeling sorry for me. What about them? Have they said anything?”
“Nah, just the usual bullshit, that they don’t see enough of her and blame you and your ‘lifestyle choices’ and all that crap.”
“So, nothing new there,” Josh said, doing a poor job of keeping the bitterness out of his voice. “I’m gonna talk to Sasha this morning, but really, unless she opens up and gives me a good reason, I think she’s just going to have to suck it up. They are her grandparents, and she is only coming up to twelve. She can decide for herself soon enough.”
“I know.” Katie placed her hand over his. “And for what it’s worth, I think it’s the right response. Sucks being a parent, huh?”
“Tell me about it.” He fetched his toast
and ruffled her hair on his return. She sat back and cast a critical eye over him.
He frowned. “What?”
She grabbed his chin and turned his face first one way, then the other. “Even with this Sasha thing going on you look… I don’t know… different.”
“Slept well for once,” he answered, pulling away to spread jam on his toast. But when his sister said nothing more, he looked up.
“Nah,” she said, grinning. “You got laid, didn’t you?”
“You’re being ridiculous.” He tore his toast in half, chewing noisily. Katie had always been able to read him like a damn book.
She squealed. “Who was it? Mr Coffee Date?”
“Katie,” he warned.
“Oh, come on. I’ve been waiting for you to get your freak on for two long years. Give me something, I’m dying here.”
Josh cast a glance to the lounge and hallway beyond.
Katie tapped his hand. “She’s in the shower.”
“Ugh.” The last thing he needed was his sister knowing about Michael, especially since it had gone down in her house for fuck’s sake. Maybe not the best decision in hindsight. But it would just be his luck for Michael to spill the beans. It’s probably what he’d do if their situations were reversed.
He sighed. “No, it wasn’t the guy from training.”
“Then who… oh.” Katie’s smile widened in understanding. “Michael.” It wasn’t even a question.
He scoffed. “You don’t know everyone in my life.”
“You just keep telling yourself that.” She laughed. “Josh, you don’t do one-night stands. It’s taken you two years to get a damn coffee date with someone. So the only other new gay guy in your life is Michael. He’s hot as Hades, by the way, and happens to be conveniently lodged just a few doors down in my house.”
Her expression froze, and she punched him on the arm. “Ah, goddammit. You did it in my house, didn’t you, you piece of chicken shit.”
