by Sandy Smith
“I’m here to see Deputy Commissioner Hanson.”
She frowned at me before asking if I had an appointment whilst pointedly tapping her fingers on the blank line of the appointment book.
I straightened my shoulders, feeling yet again like I was standing in the principal's office.
“I was asked to come in at midday.”
I waited. Five seconds. Ten seconds.
She sighed. “I will explain to him again what an appointment book is. You may go in.”
Once I was in the office and the door was shut, I exhaled a long breath. David laughed at me and waved his arm at a seat.
“You know she only does that because she loves flustering you, right?” he asked with a laugh.
“Yeah, knowing doesn’t stop it. She makes me feel like I’m a delinquent teenager again with one look.”
He laughed softly. “You were never a delinquent teenager. She takes great sadistic pride in the fact that you rarely get flustered. Not even Ian or I get a response, but she frowns at you, and you start quaking like a child. Of course, she may be less likely to treat you like a child if you didn’t come in here with Nutella on your face.”
I swiped at my face in horror, only to discover I did in fact have Nutella on my chin from my hastily eaten snack driving back from the school. As he continued to laugh at me, I slumped into the chair.
Eventually, David finished typing and turned his attention to me.
“Detective Harris from Castle Hill Station is working temporarily with the Drugs and Firearms squad and has a bit of an overlap with your Short case, so he’ll be here in a few minutes, and I would like you to catch him up with your case.” I nodded right as there was a knock on the door and a man who I assumed was Detective Harris came in.
After brief introductions, I gave the detective an overview of our case. “Fifteen year old Aimee and six year old Bailey Short were reported missing four weeks ago, both previously unknown to us. Aimee left a note to her parents saying she was sorry, but she couldn’t leave Bailey behind. She couldn’t do this anymore, and there was no point in looking for them. No one will ever find their bodies. None of their friends have seen them, and there has been no activity on her bank account or social media. No history of self-harm, no known mental health issues.” I ran through a summary of the people we had spoken to and how little we had to go on.
Detective Harris nodded through the information but didn’t add anything. I glanced at David, who had remained quiet but was watching us both intensely. “Can I ask what the crossover is?”
Detective Harris frowned before answering. “Stacey Tarong’s name came up as a contractor with a company I’m looking at with regards to potential drug imports, and the name came up as being linked to your case. I gather her niece is one of your missing kids. I’m not even sure she’s relevant to mine. She is one of ten or eleven contractors linked to my company, but her name came up on several occasions, and we are looking at all their staff, so I wanted to see if there were any links. I really appreciate your time, and if you think of anything that could be relevant to me, please let me know.”
I asked a few more questions about his case to see if there were any other links, and he gave me a brief rundown of the direction of their investigation. David jumped in and asked a few questions, none related to my case. I had already been a little familiar with the case because it had been discussed a few times in various meetings, and David had introduced me to the lead detective on the case months ago at a social event, where we had chatted about it. It didn’t sound like they had made much progress. I had heard through the grapevine that the few times they got close to anything, evidence or people of interest had disappeared, especially in the last few months. After coming up with nothing useful, we exchanged quick handshakes and goodbyes, and David and I were left alone in the office again.
David began typing as if I wasn’t there, and I studied him for a while before asking the question I wasn’t sure I wanted an answer to. “Are you unhappy with how I’m handling this case?”
His eyes shot up to mine quickly with a frown. “No of course not.”
“So why did Detective Harris and I both come to the deputy commissioner’s office for a conversation that should have been a quick email?”
A bit of a pause was followed by a small smile.
“Ky, I have absolutely no hesitation about how you do your job. You are incredibly good at what you do, and both Ian and I are more than happy with your performance. You have good instincts, and you are a good team leader. You have an amazing ability to judge people. It’s an important skill. Don’t underestimate it.”
Frowning, I left the office, still with no idea what that meeting was about.
After yet another day of dead ends, paperwork, and thinly veiled homophobic comments from Detective Grayson, otherwise known as Detective Dickhead, I turned into my street and decided to park out on the road, since I would be leaving again well before parking inspectors did rounds. As I shut the car door, a light went on in a car across the road, and the door opened. I leaned against my car while Tim, my stepfather, made his way across the road. We didn’t bother with hellos as he put his arms around me and held me for a moment.
“How long have you been waiting?” I murmured.
“Not long.” I pulled back and looked at him. “Okay, I got here about two hours ago.”
“Sorry.” I grimaced. “You should’ve texted me.”
He smiled and shoved me towards the door. “You mean so I could be told you would call tomorrow?”
I cringed. “Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. I know you’re tired. I’m not staying, just wanted to check on you. We’re worried.” He glanced sideways at me as we climbed the stairs to my apartment. While I opened my door, he continued. “You need to look after yourself, Ky.”
I sighed. “I know.”
He continued to talk, pulling a few containers out of a bag I hadn’t even noticed and popping them in the fridge. One he put in the microwave. “Go have a shower, put your PJs on, and this will be ready.”
“Yes, Dad.” I smirked but turned to do as I was told. I was so grateful this man was in my life.
After chatting light-heartedly over dinner, I felt marginally more human.
Tim cleared the table and got back to the purpose of the visit. “When was the last time you did something fun?”
“I do fun stuff all the time,” I retorted.
“Okay. What and when?”
I must have paused for a while because he started to frown. “Okay, you can’t even remember when. This needs to change. Your mum still wants to set you up with that guy in her yoga class. How about that?” A glare had him continuing quickly. “He would be flexible. That’s a good thing!”
I chuckled but shook my head.
Tim sighed. “Okay, but you need to do something. Working the hours you have lately is not healthy. Before I see you next week, you need to do something fun, or I’m letting your mother loose.”
He put his hand up to indicate there was no use arguing. “It needs to be something fun, something you wouldn’t normally do. Hell, bonus points for something illegal at this stage.”
After another round of hugs and me apologising again for sucking at returning calls, Tim headed home, and I sank into bed. Would killing a co-worker count as both fun and illegal?
Chapter Three
For the next week, work was still a nightmare. A case that should have been finished with months ago came back to bite us when a similar incident in Victoria surfaced. My car broke down and was at the mechanic’s for a few days. I was working every day with Detective Grayson, AKA Detective Dickhead, and something came up in the missing Short children case. It wasn’t anything ground-breaking, only more social media comments on accounts we hadn’t come across up until now. One of Aimee’s cousins. But we still hadn’t gotten a time arranged with the girl’s parents to talk to her again.
The hours spent in front of the computer wer
e catching up with me. I had missed lunch with Mum and Tim two weeks in a row, and Tim was ominously silent. I was getting obsessed, the easiest way to lose perspective. I needed to take a break.
And I would. Next week.
Finally, on the following Wednesday, I decided my day off really was going to be a day off, and I was going to go have fun. In reality, I had done two loads of laundry, a brief clean and vacuum, and had finally taken that bag of clothes that had been in the back of the car since Jesus was a boy to the charity bin. The only fun I had during the day was going for a run.
Okay, I was starting to see Tim’s point.
Ant and I really needed to find time other than midnight in his club to catch up, so I texted him mid-afternoon to see if we could grab a quick bite to eat before the club opened. Since he moved back to Sydney, we had stayed in touch over the years but hadn’t carved out much time to actually see each other in person, and I knew he was enjoying the connection with someone who understood him and his history as much as I was. I convinced him to head to Riley’s for a bite to eat. Riley’s wasn’t exactly a gay bar, but definitely gay friendly, and my friends and I started going there when we were back at university. It was easy to get to and had cheap drinks, which was all that really mattered as a broke student. It was still a popular central spot to meet up with my old friends.
After monopolizing Antony’s time for a lot longer than either of us intended, he had to attend to a few things down in The Subway Station, the private kink club that operated below Platform. So we could chat on the way, I headed there with him. And, okay, maybe I was a little curious. Although I had never been down there, Ant had told me about the place. He was proud, and part of me was interested, even if another part was more than a little nervous.
After introducing me to security and the bartenders, Ant headed to his office for a moment, and I headed to the bathrooms.
Antony handed me a glass of scotch as I walked back through the front bar area. “You know I only came to see the place. I wasn’t really going to stay”.
“I know. That’s why I poured it rather than asking first.”
I sighed and accepted the drink. My gaze drifted around the club to land on Sean. Sean and I had hooked up a couple of times, and I was surprised to see him here, although I shouldn’t have been. He was probably more suited to the Subway Station than Riley’s Bar, where I usually saw him. He was dancing with a man whose back was to me, so all I could see was a stunning arse in dark denim and a head of blonde hair. The man turned around, and his eyes lift to meet mine.
He was fucking beautiful. The music drifted away into the background, and I could only hear my pulse quickening, thumping in my ears. My palms began to sweat, so I wiped my hands on my jeans and shoved them in my pockets as they itched to move.
I didn’t even bother trying to hide my brief look down and back up his body to those perfect eyes, eyes I couldn’t look straight into because his perusal was a little slower. He looked pretty happy with what he saw.
The man was close to flawless. Disturbingly so. He was probably a little above average height, so maybe about three inches or so shorter than me. Slim but not skinny, his dark shirt clung to his chest, highlighting lightly defined pecs. His jeans were fitted yet not too tight, showcasing a perfect round arse. His dark blond hair was perfectly neat, despite Sean running his hands through it, and he had the most stunning blue eyes I had ever seen. Even from this distance, they were striking. Was it a trick of the lighting in the club making them almost glow?
Before I even make a conscious decision, I took a step forward to get a better look at those eyes.
I enjoyed a beautiful man as much as anyone, but I had never had such an immediate response to anyone in my life. But he was dancing with Sean, I reminded myself. Well, dancing, fucking with clothes on; the distinction seemed minimal with the way they were moving.
Sean had always been very confident, very snarky, and a hell of a lot of fun. I had never felt a spark of anything more than physical with him, but he was one of the few guys I hooked up with more than once, and it was always a good time. And yet I was jealous of him, not his dance partner.
A couple of times, I thought the man was watching me when his gaze lifted from Sean, but each time, his gaze continued to roam back to his partner. Eventually, Sean grabbed his hand and slid it back around to his arse, whispering into the man’s ear. After a brief pause, there was a nod, and they wandered off into the crowd. I shook my head, said my goodbyes to Ant, and was turning towards the stairs when I felt a presence next to me.
Sean.
Before I had a chance to talk, Sean spoke. “I have a proposition for you,” he crooned, running his hand up my arm. I raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue. “I’m celebrating a big win at work today, and, well, you and Nicky seem like the perfect way to celebrate to me.”
“It’s Nicholas,” Mr. Perfect corrected him politely. In an English accent, for fuck’s sake.
I tilted my head, waiting for Sean to continue, but he appeared to be waiting for an answer.
“I’m sorry, what?” I stammered.
Nicholas chuckled and explained in a low voice. “You seemed to enjoy watching earlier. Sean is asking if you would like to do a little more than watch.” Holy fuck, that voice. It was smooth and sweet, like liquid caramel, and that accent. Holy Shit. I wasn't sure what to do with that voice. I think I blinked.
“Anyway, are you in?” Sean asked. “You two are a fuck-load of fun, pun intended, and I kicked arse at work today, so what I would like is for you two to show said arse twice as much fun.”
I was speechless. I had never been involved in a threesome. I mean, I knew a lot of guys did, and I had heard plenty of stories from guys at the pub, but I always figured most of them were exaggerating. Obviously, I was going to say no. I didn’t do things like that.
But I could hear Tim’s voice: “You need to do something… fun.”
“I’m in,” Nicholas said in that liquid voice. “How about you? Would you like to come?” Apparently, I nodded at the innuendo without any conscious decision on my part because Nicholas smiled, and Sean squealed and grabbed my hand pulling me towards the door. The trip to Sean’s place was blissfully short, not leaving time for this to get awkward or for me to chicken out.
As soon as we walked through Sean’s apartment door, Nicholas was kissing me. Sean moaned, bringing me back to earth, and I glanced at him as Nicholas’s lips moved down to my neck. He was watching us intently, holding glasses of wine.
“So,” Sean said in a surprisingly businesslike voice, once he had our attention. “Threesomes can be a little complicated, not quite like in porn, so please, if either of you feel uncomfortable, speak up. This won’t be any fun if you don’t. I know you are both good with using condoms, so we don’t need to discuss that. If anyone is unhappy, we stop straight away. Is that understood?” I nodded, and I assumed Nicholas did too.
I drank my glass in one go, and Nicholas smirked at me while talking to Sean. “He is damn good at swallowing.”
I felt more nervous than I had in a while with sex. Was there any way to bow out gracefully? I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave, but, well… I also wasn’t sure what to do. This definitely wasn’t in my comfort zone.
Sean and Nicholas both started undressing themselves. I hesitated for a moment, and Nicholas reached over and started to undo my top button. Sean, however, was impatient and grabbed my shirt, pulling it over my head. I was self-conscious. If I was planning to hook up, I usually shaved my chest. At least had I kept up my other grooming. Nicholas paused to trace one finger over my chest tattoo, and all other thoughts faded away.
“Hot as fuck, right?” Sean murmured.
The rest of our clothes soon followed. Whether it was the warmth of the wine or the seduction of Nicholas and Sean focusing their mouths on me, I felt myself melt into the moment and lost myself to hands, and mouths, and tongues. Sean eventually pulled away and grabbed our hands, pulling us both
to the bedroom. Sean pushed on my chest, which was completely ineffective given our size difference, but I let him push me down onto the bed. I scooted up until my head was near the pillows, and my gaze locked back on Nicholas’s blue eyes while Sean worked his mouth slowly down my chest and stomach.
Finally, I was so lost I was almost surprised when I felt his tongue lick along my length. Nicholas was standing at the end of the bed slowly stroking himself as Sean’s tongue explored my balls and taint before working back to my now-leaking tip. I shuddered as he took the head of my dick slowly, licking around the rim, before lowering himself all the way to the base.
“Jesus,” I breathed.
Sean continued to work me slowly as Nicholas reached over to the bedside table. I heard him fumbling around before returning to the base of the bed with lube and condoms. He knew exactly where to go for the supplies—not his first time here either. I didn’t want to look away from Nicholas, but keeping my eyes open took all my concentration as Sean continued his assault. The lube clicked open, and Sean gasped around my dick and then pulled off, resting his head on my thigh as Nicholas prepped him.
As he pleaded with Nicholas, Sean’s hand slowly stroked me. “More, more, please.”
Nicholas tried to tear open a condom wrapper but fumbled it a couple of times, his hands still a little slippery from the lube.
“Would you like a hand with that?” I smirked weakly, looking over Sean at him.
“Fuck you,” came back the reply, but a twitch of his lips showed he wasn’t too serious. He ripped the condom wrapper with his teeth and rolled it on before slicking himself with lube and reaching for Sean. Nick crawled up onto the bed to kneel behind Sean, and his gaze left mine for only a moment as he lined himself up with Sean’s hole. As he slowly pushed in, his eyes returned to me. The further he pushed, the tighter Sean’s grip on my already painful dick, until I had to place my hand over Sean’s to warn him. He breathed out an apology, and his mouth returned to licking and sucking.
