by J. P. Oliver
Shaking, I did as I was told, unable to shake the feeling that I could trust him.
His hands moved over my clothing, alternating between long, broad strokes of his palms and a more pointed trailing of his fingers. It took amazingly little to work me up to a shuddering mess—I supposed I was sensitive from never having been touched quite like this. My whole body was tight but it wasn’t out of just nerves. It was anticipation. Where would his hands wander next? They moved over every part of me except the one place I was starting to want it most.
Ryder’s hands slowed and drifted away from my chest.
I opened my eyes, craving more.
My body felt alive, vibrating with something and unsatisfied.
Worked up.
The words came out before I could stop them: “Don’t stop.”
9
Ryder
I was like a kid in a fucking one-man candy store.
With his eyes shut, he was uninhibited and let me see all of him: the little twitches of his face and the concentrated, scrunched-up look on his face when I touched him somewhere he liked. The air between our lips was electric, our almost kiss drawing me to a state of hardness I hadn’t achieved when touching myself.
Ace was open and wanted this. He was curious but still felt exclusive, like I was privileged to be the one to do this to him; to see him in such a compromised state.
When I stopped, it was to give him time to catch his breath.
“Don’t stop.”
I felt my cock twitch in my jeans, the command unchecked.
He was feeling good and not thinking twice about it.
Leaning back, I gave him the space to sit up as I worked his shirt over his head, groaning when he flopped back down, eyes lidded and trained on me like he was in a pleasured daze. God, he was more fit than I guessed, his skin tan and smooth and warm to the touch. With the same gestures as before, I began to explore the bare skin, watching his face for any change in expression: where did he like it the most? What little places could I exploit to make him turn to jelly?
“Put your arms over your head,” I said, quiet as I guided them, his limbs following slowly as he laid them out against the plush of the sofa.
“Like this?”
I nodded, smirking. Did he know how badly I wanted to devour him?
“Good. Just like that,” I praised. “Keep them there as long as you can, all right?”
Ace nodded once, determined.
We’d see how long it would last.
With a plan in mind, I let my palms run over his chest, dragging purposefully over his nipples and watching with rapt amazement as his face pinched and he arched slightly off the couch into my hands.
What was best of all, though, was the sound: the breathy whimper he wasn’t able to control.
“Fuck, Ace…”
I ran my hands over him again and again, eventually narrowing down to just my fingertips, pinching and rolling both nipples light and slow, pulling to ease him to the border of what might be painful, knowing the fine line there was made of pleasure. It was rhythmic and simple, but it had him panting, fingers flexing and gripping where he dutifully kept them pinned to the sofa above his head.
His body was fidgeting underneath me.
Glancing down afforded me the opportunity to see his cock erect and tenting his gray sweatpants. Was he the type who leaked easily? What would he taste like or feel like in my hand?
I wanted to touch him there. Wanted to give him the pleasure of knowing what it was like, but I wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. I didn’t want to push him too far.
Call it cosmic, call it telepathic, call it whatever; it was at that moment Ace’s mouth opened, voice softer and more wrecked than I’d ever heard it before.
And he had the audacity to ask, “Please touch me.”
I felt like I’d had the wind knocked out of me.
With a practiced, crooked grin, I said, “I am touching you.”
Just to show him how much I was touching him, I tweaked his nipple.
Ace whined.
This grown-ass, grumpy partner of mine actually whined.
“My cock,” he pleaded, hands crossing at his wrists in a major effort to keep them up. “Ryder, please—I want you to touch my cock—”
How could I possibly say no?
“Since you asked so nice…” My mouth brushed over his in another almost-kiss, detouring over his cheek and jaw to his ear where I could let my tongue trace the shell of it. I didn’t need to look to know what I was doing for this part; my hand wandered down the skin of his stomach, reaching, palming around his cock through his sweats—
His mouth fell open around a desperate sound.
Like this, I could feel the shape of it. He was thick; definitely packing some heat down there. I wouldn’t mind getting my mouth around that in the very near future—but right now was about getting him there. Giving him what he’d asked for.
As I traced the outline and ground the heel of my hand against his shifting cock, Ace responded to everything I gave him. If he was trying to control himself and not seem into this, he was doing a horrible job. I noticed that he got especially needy whenever I let my fingers play with the head of his cock, until I felt the damp spot forming under my finger.
I groaned against his ear, repeating the action. “You like that?”
“Y-yes.”
“Do you touch yourself there? When you’re all alone with your perfect cock?” I asked. I loved a little bit of dirty talk, and though the point with him was to take it slow, I didn’t see the harm in having a little fun. “You’re doing so good, Ace. So good…”
He made a pleading noise as I pressed against the damp spot.
It was my only warning before he couldn’t hold his hands back any longer.
Ace clung to my shoulders and came with a trembling gasp. I watched his face, his eyes screwed shut and lips parted as he let the ecstasy wash over him. He’d been waiting all night for this, and though I was still hard and untouched, I felt the relief of it, too.
Knowing I’d made him come was cathartic.
I held my breath, crawling off of him to give himself the space to come back to Earth, waiting for…what I could only imagine would be a very confused and sudden freak-out over what had just happened, but it never came.
Instead, he slowly sat himself up, cheeks flushed and hair a mess.
The ice in his eyes had melted into slush, hazed and dark gray.
“So…” Ace rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. “When can we…do that again?”
My laughter was instant, and as hard as Ace tried, it wasn’t stopping any time soon.
10
Ace
The week between two Fridays was hell.
Not because I was stressed or we were particularly swamped at the precinct. No, it was just that every second was passing too slowly; the closer I got to Friday, the closer I got to spending more alone time with Ryder.
After that first night together, after I, uh…pretty much came in my sweats, Ryder had promised we could pick it up again the next Friday after work, which at the time had sounded reasonable, but in reality had me coming out of my skin. Touching myself, I found, wasn’t as hair-raising, even when I had the memories of his lips on my ears and his face, focused and grinning, watching as I came undone by his hand. It wasn’t the same. I needed the real thing again.
Part of me was honestly kind of embarrassed over how easy it had been for him—how quickly I’d come. Thinking about it at work made the tips of my ears burn and my disposition a little grumpier than usual. I didn’t always come that fast, and Ryder had left my place without having gotten off himself, so it was my resolute decision that this Friday, I’d be returning the favor.
Each day passed without much incident, business as usual, until Thursday.
Through the glass doors of the precinct, I glimpsed something very…colorful, watching while I walked back to my desk from the water cooler as a woman entered, glancing around. She seem
ed wildly out of place here: big hair, tall and thin, wearing a billowy skirt and mesh shirt with her freckled arms covered in silver, shimmering bangles. She didn’t so much walk as she did glide, graceful and tall, passing by the front desk like she owned the place.
I paused, apparently the only one struck by how weird her presence here was.
Big brown eyes scanned the room.
I found myself caught in her line of sight, and we stared at each other a moment before her eyes narrowed and she came at me with a purpose.
“I don’t know you,” she said, almost to herself but definitely to me.
“I… I, uh—”
“I don’t like not knowing the men my son works with.” Her head tilted once we were nearly nose-to-nose, her lips pursed. As a cop, I was usually good at thinking on my feet and taking surprises in stride, but…not this time. I was frozen.
“I’ll need to see these.” She grabbed for my left hand with both of hers.
I flinched, trying to pull it away, but she was stubborn.
“What?”
“Your palms.” She looked at me like a teacher would look at a kid who’d stolen a toy.
I looked out at my squad. Some were ignoring us outright, but those who watched only looked on with fond smiles. Clearly, backup was out of the question.
Reluctantly, I relaxed and let her unfold my fingers.
Her eyes and fingertips moved over the lines in my hand silently before she hummed knowingly and let me have my hand back.
“Um…”
“You’ve got a soft heart,” she said, calm and assured, like she knew me now. Her full lips parted into a smile. “I can see that in your eyes, too. But all those secrets you’re keeping are weighing that heart of yours down, okay? A heavy heart isn’t good for your health, you know.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Was I supposed to thank her?
“I—”
Miraculously, by some divine intervention, Eli’s office door opened, both he and Ryder stepping out, their morning briefing over. Ryder’s eyes widened at the sight of us; he was a tease and a goof, but if anyone might save me from this strange woman, it had to be my partner, right?
A smile split his perfect face.
“Well, well, well,” Ryder hummed. He swept her into a side hug, taller by a full head, and he kissed the top of her hair. “What’re you doing this time? Harassing the new guy?”
They smiled at each other, and I had to do a double-take at how similar they looked now that they were standing side by side. They both had the same dark hair and green eyes and cut to their high cheekbones. Their crooked smiles were the same.
Oh, no.
“Mom, this is my new partner—Ace Payne, I told you about him.”
“You did,” she said, “but you didn’t mention how handsome he was.”
I glanced at Ryder. It was funny he forgot to mention that, considering he’d just had me pinned to my sofa with his hand on my cock the other night. I tried not to take it too personal.
“It’s nice to meet you—”
“Noreen.” She held out her hand for what I thought would be a handshake—but she ended up just holding it and taking a deep breath before patting my shoulder. “But I prefer Nori, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind, Mrs. Mueller—”
“Nori,” she said. “None of that miss or missus with me, hon.”
I swallowed and looked from her to Ryder, who raised his eyes, looking especially proud.
Nori looked between the two of us, poking Ryder in the rib lightly.
“Your auras are battling, son,” she said, eyes narrowed. “I can feel the lust in it—it’s incredibly thick. If you two don’t get a handle on that, it’ll implode. And not in a good way.”
I could feel the color draining from my face, a cough exploding from my chest in surprise, Ryder having the nerve to grin like the devil he was.
11
Ryder
I gave myself a once-over in the hallway mirror of Ace’s apartment before knocking.
Being here, waiting for him to answer, gave me that flighty, warm, excited feeling I’d get before every first hookup, every first kiss, every crush I’d had in high school and college. The week that had passed felt impossible. Getting work done was impossible, thinking about anything other than those sweet, desperate little noises Ace had made was impossible. Forget about fucking looking at each other. Every shared glance or silent moment in the squad car was filled with tension—a kind of lust that felt like it would snap at any minute like my mom had so helpfully pointed out.
The few times it came up, I braced myself for tragedy. For Ace to crawl back into his shell, but that conversation never came. Instead, he seemed eager to explore, and, man, was I eager to help.
When he opened the door, Ace seemed less nervous this time.
Which is to say: still nervous, with that cute as hell, wobbly smile on his face. At least he wasn’t shaking. That would come later.
“Hey,” he said, making room for me to come in.
“Hey, rookie.”
The first thing that hit me was the smell of something savory from the kitchen. I paused, jacket halfway off my shoulders. There was noise coming from the kitchen.
Dinner, I realized, feeling something twitch inside of me. He made us dinner.
“Uh…what’s cooking?” I asked, hanging up my jacket and toeing my shoes off.
Ace ran a hand through his hair as I followed to the kitchen.
“Nothing really impressive,” he said. “Some steaks. I picked them up on the way home.” He gestured to the little two-person table tucked against the wall. “You can sit if you want, it’s almost done.”
I did so, watching as he melted butter over each steak and set up each plate, all the while feeling…complicated. Dinner was too much like a date, and I didn’t date. Ever. Dating meant monogamy; it meant complicated feelings and being tied down, which was the last thing I was looking for. I was a free spirit. Every fuckable person in Harlan knew that.
“Uh, here.” Ace set my plate down in front of me with a half-shrug. “Like I said: nothing impressive.”
When he sat, he pushed his food into his mouth, eyes moving over the counter, slightly hunched. He was nervous. I had to remind myself that this was still so new to him; the million subtleties of dating and fooling around and sleeping together were bound to be lost on him.
I popped a piece of steak into my mouth, groaning immediately.
Ace’s eyes snapped up. “What? What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing, I—” I held up a hand, closing my eyes. “It’s perfect.”
When I looked again, his eyes were narrowed. “You’re full of shit—”
“I mean it.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it,” I asserted. “This is some melt-in-your-mouth shit.”
“What can I say?” Ace gave a light twirl of his fork. “They could call me Top Chef if I wasn’t so clearly a bottom.”
I felt my eyes widen.
Ace paused, mid-chew, face turning red. “That was a joke.”
I burst out laughing, surprise overtaking me.
He followed with his own quiet chuckling. “C’mon—it wasn’t that funny—”
“It was,” I said, shaking my head. “I just don’t know how much of a joke it was.”
Ace rolled his eyes, and it might have been bitchy if the rest of him wasn’t so fucking cute, clearly a little red in the face. “Yeah, we’ll see.”
“Whatever you say,” I singsonged, and then we were moving on from the subject, the flow of conversation surprisingly natural. Usually Ace was so tense and quiet, his words clipped and divulging very little, and while that had been fading some with the rest of the guys at the precinct, dinner with Ace was something else. It didn’t feel like we were grasping at things to fill the silence. But it was more than just speaking; he was actually kind of a funny guy with a dry sense of humor when he wasn’t so closed off.
<
br /> We talked even after out plates were cleared. I only noticed how long it had been when I went to take a sip of my beer and found it empty. Glancing at the clock, the hands were crawling not-so-slowly towards midnight. Hours; we’d been talking and laughing for hours.
Ace noticed, his gaze following mine and he swore lightly under his breath as he started setting our empty plates in the sink.
“Do you want me to leave?” I asked, stretching over the back of my chair. “It’s getting late and I don’t want you to….”
Ace drifted over. Stood in front of me and studied me like he was thinking real hard about something—before his face took on that sweet pinkish hue again. He took my hand and I followed without complaint as he led us both into the sitting room again.
I expected him to take his place on the big cushy brown sofa.
Instead, he surprised me again, fingers running, shaking slightly, over my chest. They hooked in the bottom of my shirt and he looked up at me, eyes communicating what his mouth was too afraid to say.
I raised my arms, dipping my head slightly as he tugged the thing off of me and pushed me back onto the sofa in a sudden display of authority.
Well, pencil me down as shocked and horny.
I was staring up at him now. What was he going to do? This Ace was so unpredictable compared to last week’s—but, no, it was still the same timid guy. I could see the nervousness in his eyes, and how hard he was pushing, allowing himself to gravitate to what he naturally craved.
As we both held our breath, Ace worked his t-shirt over his head.
“Fuck….” My eyes raked over him greedily, one hand reaching out as he wordlessly crawled into my lap, legs spread and straddling me; overtly sexual—another surprise. “I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you how sexy you are, but….”
The corner of his mouth twitched, almost a grin.
His fingers moved lightly over the cut of my jaw, the stubble and dark hair there, down my neck to the open expanse of my chest where he allowed himself to explore, experiment. I sighed, delighted to know he wasn’t afraid of using his nails a little bit. It was like a mirroring of what I’d done to him the other night, flattened palms and feather-light fingers. His movements were less sure, less confident, but Ace was a quick learner. I’d seen it at the precinct, how quickly he took to integrating himself into the force in Harlan. He was a natural learner, and this was just another thing to tackle.
