by Sasha Goldie
"I don't think they have enough people to do that. They already deputized someone, and I know Brady has put in overtime."
"I'm glad to see you've finally started taking this seriously," I said. I'd been starting to be concerned at how Tyler was brushing off the incidents.
"Yeah, you're right. I'm pretty sure I was in some sort of denial, because now that it's come to actually seeing this guy, I'm completely freaked out."
"Well, I'll be here with you until the last minute, when I leave for work. I'd call out, but we're short-handed. I don't think they have anyone to replace me."
"No, it's okay. You can't miss work. I'm safe. I've got a weapon in every room, plus Harry."
"He's not much of a guard dog," I said, looking ruefully at the furry lump splayed out on the kitchen floor.
"No, but he vehemently disliked John." His eyes widened as he described Harry's behavior out on the street. "I think he'd smelled him before, from the break-ins, and maybe the fire."
"Makes sense."
We ran over scenarios of why and how John would bother him next while the lasagna baked. While it cooled, he threw in a sheet of garlic bread.
"Take me up on my offer. Let's go on vacation."
He laughed and threw the oven mitt at me. "You just finished saying there wasn't anyone to cover you at work."
"Eh, they'll figure it out. I'd rather be on a beach somewhere with you." I stood and put the mitt on the counter and took Tyler's hand, pulling him close to hug.
"Imagine it," I said as he wrapped his arms around me. He was tall enough that I rested my cheek on his chest, then put my arms around his waist and swayed us to music in my head. "Palm trees, the rolling sand, the sound of waves crashing on the beach. Harry running into the water after his balls, you and I sipping something naughty and fruity with an umbrella." I pulled us into a circle in our silent dance. "A muscled cabana boy bringing us towels and snacks. I can make it happen, you know."
"Can you?" He sighed, and I was sure he was imagining the vacation. "How?"
"My parents have a house on the water in Cali. It's a short flight, we'd have a free place to stay, and John couldn't follow us all the way down there."
He hummed, resting his cheek on my head. "That sounds amazing."
"When we come in from the sun and water, I'll rub aloe all over your chest and back, to sooth the inevitable sunburn we'll get even with a load of sunblock."
"Yeah, it always happens."
The oven timer buzzed, pulling us out of our tropical fantasies.
"What do you say?" I asked as he pulled away to get the garlic bread out.
"I say, when this John mess is resolved, let's do it. In the meantime, I'm not running from him."
Slapping the counter, I let my aggravation with his decision show, and he gave me a raised eyebrow for my outburst. "Something you want to say?"
"I don't want you in danger." I gave him a level look. "I don't think that's unreasonable of me."
He plated two large servings of lasagna and bread. "No vegetable?" I grinned at him, he knew I didn't mind.
"There's tomatoes in lasagna, close enough."
When we sat at the table, I took his hand. "I'll support you, even if I don't agree with you."
His smile lit up the room. "I'm glad to have you back, Patrick."
I didn't have words to describe how glad I was to be back. We ate slowly, talking about anything we could think of to take our minds off of John.
After dinner, I started clearing the table, wrapping the leftover lasagna and putting it in the fridge. "You're not my nurse." Tyler stood at the table with his hand on his hip. "You don't have to clean."
"Oh, shut up and come help me." I started the water to wash the dishes. "I can't believe he doesn't have a dishwasher in here."
"Nate said he always intended to have one installed to thank Brady for taking him in, but never got around to it."
"Well, maybe we can give ourselves manicures after, while our nail beds are soft."
He chuckled and found a dishrag.
I bumped his hip with mine every chance I got, and splashed water on him several times, accidentally. "You're going to have to take that soaking wet shirt off," I said with a fake pout. "Too bad."
"I think you only came over here tonight for one thing," Tyler said, pointing a soapy finger at me.
"What's that? The excellent cuisine?"
Grabbing my face with his soaking wet hand, he pulled me toward him and pressed his lips to mine. Then, he took my hand and pressed it to his crotch, where a bulging erection surprised me. I hadn't realized he was that ready to go to bed with me.
"This," he whispered into my lips.
I grabbed his tee with my wet hands, pulling us closer together and arching my back. "Do you have condoms here?" I asked as he pulled away and kissed my neck.
"There are some in the nightstand. Max or Ian must've left them."
"Thank you, Max or Ian," I said as he grazed the soft skin of my neck with his teeth. Sucking a breath in my teeth, I clutched Tyler. If I didn't, I might pass right the hell out.
"I don't want to wait," he growled against my skin.
"Neither do I."
It wasn't dark enough outside to turn the bedroom lights on for the officers outside, so we didn't have to worry about keeping out of sight of the window. Nobody would be able to see in. As soon as we entered the bedroom, I yanked at his shirt, frantic to touch his skin, his body.
Tyler was equally desperate, pulling at my scrub top. I kicked off my sensible nurse shoes and shimmied out of my pants and underwear. I didn't even bother with my socks, but when Tyler stepped back, eager to look at my figure--which I was very proud of--I wished I'd lost the socks.
It was okay, though, he didn't even look at my feet. His attention was entirely on my abdomen and aching dick.
"Come here," he said, pulling off his pants and backing up to the bed. Harry jumped up beside him, so he launched off and walked to the hall. "Harry, come."
Poor pup. Tyler shut the door on him as soon as he was out there. "Go lie down, Harry." Tyler turned back to me and took my hand, leading me to the bed. "Do you have a preference?"
"Not with you. I'll take you any way you want me."
"Any way I want you?" He lifted that delicate eyebrow he so loved to arch at me. "So you're a bottom."
"Emotionally, usually. Sometimes I feel a little toppish," I said with a shrug. No shame in mixing it up.
"That works for me." He pulled me down onto the bed and scooted close, positioning us so our dicks rubbed against each other. I watched him flex his hips to create friction between us and moaned. The feel of his velvet rod on my own was enough to make me want to roll over and give him my ass. I wanted him to fuck me until I screamed into the pillow, so I told him. "Fuck me, Tyler, please."
He widened his eyes. "Say that again."
"Tyler, please fuck me. Make me scream. Make me come."
All thoughts of foreplay or tenderness left me. All I wanted was him, inside me, using my body and giving us both indescribable pleasure.
He rolled over me, rising above. Leaning to the right, he opened the drawer and pulled out condoms and lube. I grabbed a condom and ripped it open, sliding it down his shaft as I spread my legs to him. "Fuck me," I repeated, my own hard dick resting against my lower stomach while I grabbed my legs, angling my ass to give him easiest access.
He dribbled lube on himself, spreading it on him, then rubbing me down with it. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feel of him touching me, rubbing me.
"Do you need any prep?" he asked. I shook my head. "I like my dildos. They keep me pretty prepped."
He pushed at my entrance, and I couldn't stop my moan again. As he pushed inside, his voice joined mine. "You feel amazing," he said breathlessly. "God, this tight ass."
His voice took me higher, and the feel of his head pressing against my prostate was amazing. "Move, Tyler."
He pulled out and began thrusting wildly. Exactly w
hat I wanted. Orgasms by anal stimulation were my favorite, and the passionate way he moved was sure to give me one. I held on to my legs, watching his face as he pumped into me, slamming deep then pulling back and sometimes out before ramming home again. I cried out as my orgasm built, the feel of it coming making my nipples tighten and my eyes roll back in my head.
It didn't take me long, not with how hard Tyler fucked me. Hot cum squirted out of my dick, which was bouncing and jiggling from Tyler’s movements. He noticed the first squirt hit my chest and transfixed his eyes onto my dick. "I didn't even touch it."
When I finished coming all over myself, I sucked in a deep breath. "Have you never had a no-touch orgasm?"
He shook his head, still stroking in and out of me, slowly.
"Then I'll have to show you next time." I grinned and angled my legs again. "Come in me."
He moved faster again, curling his hips and focusing on his own pleasure since I'd had my orgasm.
A few minutes later, I wrapped two fingers around his base and squeezed as he moved inside me.
He yelled, pulling out of me and yanking the condom off, his cum squirting on top of my own. I watched him stroke the last of his orgasm out, and damn, if I didn't think I might be able to go again after watching that.
"Fuck," I whispered.
He climbed off the bed. "Wait there." Returning with a warm washcloth, he wiped my abdomen, cleaning our mixed seed off of me. "What time do you have to leave?"
"Ten thirty at the very latest."
“There’s a spare key hanging by the back door. Take it in case you need to get in, and I don’t hear you knock.” He set the clock beside the bed. It was only a little after six. I hadn't been at his place much more than an hour.
What an excellent hour.
Curling beside me in the bed, he gave me a tender kiss. We held hands and faced each other until we both went to sleep, content in each other's caring afterglow.
21
Tyler
The alarm woke me from a great dream. Harry, Patrick, and I on the beach. "Do you have to go?" I groaned.
"I'm sorry, but I do."
I started to get up with him, but he put a hand on my back. "Lie back down. Sleep. I'll see you in the morning at the diner."
"Bye," I mumbled. In my mind, I told him I loved him, but didn't say it out loud. Not yet.
I dozed for a while, my mind racing about what Patrick and I had done, too keyed up to truly sleep.
Harry jumped off the bed with a growl, which woke me up instantly. The only other time he'd growled was when we passed John on the street. I grabbed my stun gun from the bedside table and tiptoed to the bedroom door. Harry disappeared into the hall, still growling. If he saw someone, he'd bark. I didn't turn out the bedroom light, not yet. It might be something silly, and Harry's growls nothing more than a subconscious response to my nerves.
Turned out to be a big mistake.
I stepped into the hall, pointing the stun gun toward the kitchen and living room, and saw Harry eating something off of the floor. "Harry, what are you doing? Is there someone in here or not?" He looked back at me and wagged his tail, no longer growling.
"I guess not." I walked over to him and rubbed his head, looking to see what he'd eaten. "What did you eat?"
He panted a few times and continued wagging his tail, so I let it go.
"Come on, let's go back to bed. The breakfast shift at the diner will be here before we know it." He followed me back to the bed. I curled around a pillow and finally managed to get back to sleep.
"Get up." A harsh voice jerked me from my sleep. "Come on."
I sat up in bed, looking around wildly. John, the man from the street, stood in my doorway. It took me a second for my mind to wake up and realize what was going on. "Hey," he said in a loud voice. "Let's go."
Harry didn't move as I pulled the covers off of my legs. "What did you do to my dog?" I asked, my voice nearly hysterical as I shook him. He was breathing but didn't move as I frantically tried to wake him. "You left something for him to eat, didn't you?" I wanted to kick myself for letting him eat whatever had been on the floor. I'd brushed it off, figured it was a spider or something.
"I didn't hurt him," he said gruffly. "I like dogs. He'll sleep it off."
With nothing else to do but believe him, I stood, my heart in my throat and my eyes on Harry. "Where are we going?"
"Don't worry about that. Let's go." He backed out of the room. I turned to put on my pants, wherever we were headed, I didn't want to go in my underwear. "No. Leave it. Come on." Lovely. At least it hadn't turned all that cold yet.
Inching toward him, I took stock of the situation. He didn't seem to have a weapon, but by the looks of his stocky frame, he'd annihilate me in a fight. Running away would be a better bet for me than fighting. If I got outside, I could make a break for it.
As I neared the light switch, I inched my hand toward it.
John pulled a gun out from behind his back. "Don't even think about it. I know all about your little deputy sitting across the street. You won't signal him."
Damn, how would anyone know I was gone? "How'd you know?"
"You're not real bright, you know that?" He curled his lip as he backed into the hall. I followed, my eyes on his gun.
"How are we going to get out of here?" I nodded toward the front of the house and the street. "They'll see us leave."
"Shut up." He waved the gun toward the stairs. "Go."
I went, hands up, so he could see I had no intention of doing anything that would make him shoot that gun. "Keep going," he said at the bottom of the stairs.
"Where?" If I went out the front door, we'd be spotted for sure. Not that I minded the deputy noticing John had me.
"The back door, dumbass." I looked toward the back of the garage. "This place doesn't have a back door," I said haughtily. Ha, now he'd have to go out the front. I didn't know how he got in, but we'd be seen with both of us trying to slip out.
If I knew any karate or fancy TV-show moves, I could've got the drop on him. When I told him there was no back door, his gun arm fell, and he sighed in exasperation. It was down long enough that I should've been able to knock it out of his hand, but it took me so long to figure out how, he'd raised it back up and pointed it at me.
"Look behind the big compressor." He jiggled the gun, making me nervous. I moved quickly to see what he meant, because if he kept waving his hand around and that damn gun went off, no telling where the bullet would go.
Sure enough, the huge compressor hid a small door. I opened it, looking outside warily. There wasn't a path or anything, just the back yard, which stretched out for a few hundred feet, then ended at the huge swath of woods behind the town.
"Where am I supposed to go?" I looked back at John. He stood close, behind me in the shop.
"Walk in a straight line toward the woods." He backed up a step. "Hang on, come here."
He backed up, eyes on me, as I re-entered the shop and shut the back door.
Waving me forward, he handed me a shop rag. "Put this whole thing in your mouth."
I wrinkled my nose and looked at it. "I'd rather be shot."
He straightened his gun on me. "That's not a problem."
My gaze went from the nasty rag to the gun. "Please get a clean one. He keeps them in that cabinet." I nodded my head to the left, at a cabinet against the wall.
John backed up, gun on me, and went sideways toward the cabinet. Opening the drawer, he found clean rags. "Okay," he said. "If it'll shut you up."
He tossed the rag toward me, and I missed, of course. It fell on the floor. I shook it out the best I could. "Can I tie it around instead of stuffing it in?"
"You're more trouble than you're worth," he growled. "I should just shoot you now."
Moving faster, I wrapped the rag around my head and tied it in the back.
John moved forward, the gun moving right in my face, and checked the tightness. "Good. Maybe you get the picture now."
; All I got was my eyes crossed for trying to keep them on the gun. It was nearly touching my nose.
I tried to focus on controlling my breathing and not hyperventilating around the rag. It wouldn't do me any good to pass out. He'd probably just shoot me and leave.
"Now, straight to the woods. When we get there, I'll tell you where to go."
I looked pitifully down at my feet, but he shook his head. "You won't care once we get where we're going."
Where were we going? Was he going to finally kill me? Why hadn't he just done that to begin with? I couldn't ask, though.
Opening the door again, I looked around, praying to find someone that might be out for a nightly smoke or walking a dog or something. I could see up and down all the way to the highway to the right and the grocery store to the left. Nothing moved, nobody drove by, and no passersby could've spotted me.
"Veer to the right," John whispered behind me. I altered my course toward the woods to go where he indicated. As I stepped lightly out of the soft grass and into the woods, I looked back. John was mere feet behind me, gun still pointed at me.
"Go," he whispered. "Move to the right and forward. You'll run into a path."
My feet instantly protested the forest floor. Rocks and sticks covered everything. I couldn't see much at all. The light of the moon was obscured by the canopy of branches and leaves. If it had been winter, maybe visibility would've been better, but it wasn't. Good for my nakedness, bad for seeing.
I tried to move as he said, but I wasn't six feet into the woods before I tripped over a branch that I couldn't see in the dark. "Shit," I grunted around the gag tied around my face.
"Get up," John hissed. I looked up at him and saw his head was turned back, making sure nobody noticed us.
It was my only chance. While he looked back, I sprang up and lurched forward, turning myself back toward Ian's shop.
And promptly tripped on another root.
John lunged at me, grabbing my arm and hauling me to my feet.
I hadn't made it three feet away from him.
"None of that now," he said fiercely in my ear. "Don't try that again."
