Common Powers

by Lynn Lorenz

  Sammi raised his head up to gaze into Mitchell’s eyes.

  “I don’t own you. You’re not my slave. I’m not going to expect you to be a house boy, always cooking and cleaning or fetching my slippers. I want to share the chores with you. We’re partners. But in bed, yes, I want to be your daddy and you to be my boy. Will that work for you?”

  Sammi nodded, gave Mitchell a quick kiss and pushed off him.

  “Speaking of meals…how about we order pizza?” Sammi bit his bottom lip, waiting.

  “Sounds great! You’ve been baking all day and I’m bushed after what we just did.”

  Mitchell pushed Sammi, and they both got out of bed and headed to the closet to put on sleep pants and T-shirts. One of them had to answer the door when the pizza arrived.

  Chapter Five

  Phillip held his breath as he unlocked the back door to the garage. His shiner was still aching, turning purple and blue, but the swelling was almost gone. The bruise on his cheek had started to fade. His ribs still hurt, but he could deal with the pain.

  After getting the lights on and fixing the coffee, he went into the garage bays to unlock and open the doors. As he bent down, his ribs complained. He braced himself and lifted… The door rose and his ribs twinged. First one done. The one that stuck was next. With a deep breath, he bent, pushed with his knees, straightened, and pain kicked him in the side, as if it had just happened.

  Phillip cried out, clutched his side with one hand and braced his other hand on his knee as he sucked in air. Damn. Fuck. Shit. That hurt like a motherfucker.

  This wasn’t going to work. He had one more bay door to open and it might just kill him. He limped over to it, unlocked it and grabbed the handle. On the count of three.

  “One. Two. Three.” He pulled up, and the door, thank God, slid up without much effort. The pain was bearable. He turned toward the office to start the day. Two sets of keys and accompanying notes were on the floor by the front door. He needed to get them and log them in.

  He was typing the info into the computer when the door to the garage bays opened. He glanced up. Estaban. Thank God.

  “Hola, Estaban.” He kept his head down. It was stupid. Estaban would see his face anyway.

  “Hey, Phil. What you got for me today?” Estaban leaned his folded arms on the counter.

  “Nothing yet. The two cars from last night are—” Phillip looked up.

  “Whoa! Man, what the hell happened to you?” Estaban grimaced. “Who did that to you?” A darkness passed over his eyes, as if his pupils had blown out as big as possible.

  “I fell in the trailer, hit my face on the table.” Phillip chuckled. “Looks worse than it is, you know. No big deal.”

  Estaban reached out, took Phillip’s chin in his hand and used it to tilt his head one way then the other way, scanning the damage. Phillip had to fight the urge to lean into the touch. The frown on Estaban’s face deepened.

  “Riiight.” Estaban nodded. “If that’s the way you want to play it.” He snorted and let go of his chin.

  “It’s the way it happened. Look, I got one set of tires to install and one oil change. Jimmy can handle those. Enjoy your free time.” Phillip saluted Estaban.

  “Okay. I got some things to tidy up, grab a cup of coffee. Might as well git-er-done.”

  Estaban headed through the back door. The work bay had its own coffee maker so the mechanics didn’t bother the customers. They also had a small fridge out there, filled with sodas and water, and they could store their lunches in it. Phillip kept his lunch in there instead of going to his trailer to eat. Flynn would only cover the front desk for thirty minutes, so lunch had to be fast.

  Phillip glanced at the time on the computer, then walked around the counter to open the front door. He stood there for a moment watching the street. Not much happening at seven in the morning on Spring Lake’s main street.

  Not much happening with me, either.

  “Hey, P-dawg! Heard you got a boo-boo.” Jimmy’s snide voice made Phillip wince. “Want me to kiss it and make it all better?”

  Fuck.

  What he wanted to say was, ‘Want to suck my dick, you fucker?’ but he gritted his teeth and turned around.

  “Naw. I’m not rattlesnake-bit desperate.” He passed Jimmy and stepped behind the counter.

  “How’d it really happen?” Jimmy, as usual, had grease spots on his uniform.

  “I fell. My bad knee gave out and I hit the table in the trailer.” Phillip grabbed up the first set of keys and tossed them to Jimmy. “Here. Oil Change. Then I got a full set of tires on the Jeep.”

  “Cool.” Jimmy threw the keys up in the air, then caught them. He stepped up to the counter, put his greasy hands on it, leaned over and lowered his voice. “I know you’re lying ’bout that shiner.”

  Phillip put his hand over Jimmy’s. Get to work. Then he removed it.

  “Well, can’t stand here all day. Got to get to work.” Jimmy whistled as he headed to the shop area, swinging the keys around his finger. The door closed behind him and Phillip exhaled.

  This was going to be a long-ass day. He’d promised to call that cop Brian at nine and set up his interview. Phillip took out his wallet, found the card and put it next to the phone on the desk.

  He’d be lucky if no one was around. If not, he’d have to wait a little longer. He just wanted to catch Brian before he showed up here.

  That would be a disaster, especially if his manager was around. Phillip closed his eyes and pictured that scene. How fast would he get fired and lose his home?

  Fuck. My. Life.

  * * * *

  Chief of Police Jack Whittaker jerked his head up from his computer when his office door swung open and banged against the wall.

  Edward Beauregard the Third stood in the doorway, striking a pose with one hand on his hip, the other in the air, palm up. “I have arrived!” he sang out.

  Despite how just the sight of Edward got him hard, Jack played it off.

  “Kristen, you’re supposed to let me know when he’s here!” Jack bellowed to his secretary.

  “Sorry.” She giggled and yelled back, “He gave me a gift certificate to the spa not to tell you.”

  Jack glared at his lover. “Bribery is illegal. I should arrest you.” Damn if he didn’t look good enough to eat in those low-slung blue jeans and tight sky-blue T-shirt. Made him want to bend him over his desk and…

  “Oh, Sheriff, you wouldn’t arrest me, slap me in cuffs, would you?” Edward tilted his head and peeked up from under his long lashes.

  Man, he was a sucker for that and Edward knew it.

  Jack fought the urge to touch his cock. “It’s Chief to you, buddy.” He sat back in his chair. “Where’s Winston?” The little dog usually went wherever Edward went.

  Edward shut the door behind him, turned the lock and leaned against it. Jack’s mouth watered for a taste of him. Edward up against that door brought back memories. Delicious ones, for damn sure.

  “Winston is at the shop with the ladies. They’re spoiling him! I swear, if he gets any fatter he won’t be able to jump up on the bed.”

  “Damn,” Jack drawled, “I’d hate for that to happen.” He and Edward had many ‘talks’ about Winston on the bed with them. Jack had lost them all.

  Edward huffed at him. “You love him almost as much as you love me.”

  Jack ignored him. “So why are you here?”

  “Aww, I love you too. I have some news that couldn’t wait!” Edward sauntered over to Jack’s desk and fell into one of the chairs in front of it. He crossed his legs and leaned forward looking very serious.

  “Good news or bad news?” Jack rubbed his chin. With Edward, it could be anything and his level of excitement would be about the same.

  “Great news! Brian called and he and Rush invited us to come out to the ranch for Christmas starting Christmas Eve and for as long as we want afterwards. Mitchell and Sammi will be there too!” Edward clapped his hands and bounced a bit. “We hav
en’t seen them in ages.”

  “That’s nice of them.” Jack smiled and wondered why Brian hadn’t mentioned it to him before, then remembered their schedules only overlapped in the late afternoon when he was leaving and Brian was coming in. “Sounds like a plan. We’re free in the evening and I’m off on Christmas, but I’m scheduled to work the next day.”

  “Can’t you get longer? Don’t you have an ‘in’ with the boss?” Edward winked.

  Jack held up his finger to signal Edward to wait. He typed on the computer and brought up the week’s schedule. Brian had to work the day before Christmas but had Christmas Day off. If Jack took another day, it’d be unfair.

  “Nope, ’fraid not.” Edward’s face fell and damn if he didn’t pout. Jack struggled with the urge to get out of his chair, go to Edward and suck on his bottom lip.

  “But that doesn’t mean you can’t stay a while, baby. What’s your schedule for the spa?”

  Edward slumped in his chair. “We’re closed for the holiday and open the next day. There’s only a few days before New Year’s and with parties and such, it’s a super busy time. But if you were off, I’d rearrange my schedule. They could live without me for a day.” He put his elbow on his knee and leaned his chin on his hand. “Damn, I wanted to spend some time with the guys.”

  “Why don’t you call Sammi and Mitchell and find out their plans. It’s a busy time and everyone might not have that many days off. Or not.” Jack shrugged. “What does Brian want us to bring to eat?”

  “Oh, there’s a buffet the night before, so pot luck. And they’re doing a light breakfast, which for Rush and Brian might mean literally the whole hog, dozens of eggs and a huge pot of grits.” He laughed. “But Brian says Rush is doing a turkey and a ham, and we can help cook the sides. I think he means me and Sammi, since we’re the only ones with any sort of culinary skills.”

  “That’s good, because you know”—he pointed at himself—“I’m the guy if you want something microwaved.”

  Edward chuckled. “True. You’re right. I’ll call the guys and ask what’s up with them. Sammi and I can coordinate sides and pot luck.” He rose. “I’ll let you get back to work, Sheriff.” He waved a hand at Jack.

  Jack stood and came around his desk. “It’s Chief Sheriff to you, Mr. Beauregard.” He pulled Edward close, using his fingers hooked into Edward’s jean pockets. “Thanks for stopping by. Makes my day.” He took Edward’s mouth in a claiming kiss. Edward did that melting thing, where he leaned in and sort of went all limp, as if kissing Jack was the most wonderful thing. Damn, he had it so bad for this man.

  After he had tasted Edward thoroughly, he broke the kiss. Edward sighed and leaned his forehead against Jack’s chest.

  “I’ll make your day right now.” And with those words, Edward slid to his knees, unbuckled Jack’s belt and had his zipper down before Jack could say stop.

  “Edward,” Jack warned, but fuck him, he didn’t have the sense the good Lord gave him to make Edward stop. In the back of his lizard brain he registered that the door was locked, and Kristen wouldn’t interrupt them and if she did it’d be with a knock or a buzz on the phone.

  Giving in, he tangled his fingers in Edward’s hair and held on as Edward got Jack’s dick free from his clothing. Edward’s strong grip on his shaft was just right and Jack closed his eyes, waiting for the first electrifying touch of Edward’s tongue on his now swollen head.

  He clamped his lips shut as it hit, and just managed to keep a cry from escaping. Edward licked him, up and down his shaft, sucking light as a feather on his head, then with a quick nip, he took Jack’s cock to the back of his throat.

  Edward, the bastard, was going for fast and dirty, and that was fine as frog’s hair with Jack. Oh, fuck, Edward knew just how to work his dick and get him to come.

  “Suck me, baby. Make me come,” Jack whispered as he moved his hips back and forth, feeding his dick to Edward. Edward wrapped one hand around the base of his shaft and one hand around his thigh.

  Edward alternated between licking, sucking and nibbling Jack’s cock, sending little thunderbolts shooting up and down it, making his balls ache to unload.

  Jack looked down. So close. He grabbed Edward’s hair and pulled him off.

  “Yes, Jack?” Edward’s half-lidded eyes, his swollen lips, the way he stretched his tongue out to keep touch with his cock drove Jack nuts.

  “Suck me hard and fast, baby. Make me blow.” He let go of Edward. He moaned as Edward swallowed him down. Oh, fuck.

  Edward showed no mercy. He jerked Jack off as he sucked hard on the upper half of his dick. Jack’s balls tightened, and he let himself go, no more holding back, just let his arousal take him to the edge—and over.

  With a quiet groan, Jack erupted, spurting into Edward.

  Edward swallowed his release, until he had nothing left to give. He licked the last of Jack’s jiz from his dick and tucked him back in, then zipped him up and re-buckled Jack’s belt.

  “Oh, fucking damn, baby.” Jack exhaled and pulled Edward to his feet. He cupped Edward’s face in his hands. “I love you, Edward. Unconditionally.” He put his forehead against Edward’s.

  Edward’s gentle kiss settled on Jack’s heart. Oh, yeah, I love this man so hard.

  “Let me take care of you.” Jack reached for Edward’s jeans.

  “No. I’ll catch you later tonight. I can’t go to work smelling like spunk.” He winked.

  “But I can?” Jack growled. “Go on. I got to get back to work.” Jack slapped Edward on the ass.

  Edward jumped. “Hey! Save that for later.” He rubbed his butt. “Okay, I’m going. See you at home.”

  “You too.” Jack headed back to his desk chair.

  Edward unlocked the door, opened it, spun around, then paused. “Bye, Sheriff.” Then he scooted out and shut the door behind him, before Jack could say another word.

  Jack chuckled, shook his head and got back to work. Five o’clock couldn’t come soon enough. Edward would be waiting for him at home, and with any luck, he’d be naked as the day he was born, stretched out on the bed, with a ready and willing hard-on.

  Oh, sweet Jesus.

  Chapter Six

  Phillip walked to the police station for his interview with Brian. Thank goodness, the cop’s shift started at five p.m. They’d arranged to meet right after Phillip got off work at six. Phillip hung around, closing the garage, then in his trailer he changed clothes and put on his sneakers for the short walk.

  At least today no one at the garage would know about the beat-down. Estaban might have suspected and Jimmy might have hoped, but for now, he was sticking to his story about falling. Flynn hadn’t even noticed Phillip. He’d just come in and walked straight to his office to hide. Then at lunch, Phillip had managed to pass him on his way to eat.

  Phillip pushed open the front door and stepped up to the counter where a female officer sat.

  “Can I help you?” She gave him a look, checking him and his bruises out, no doubt. He rubbed his cheek.

  “I’m here to see”—he had to glance down at the card to remember Brian’s last name—“Officer Russell?”

  “Sure. He’s in the squad room. Hold on.” She picked up a phone, hit a button and spoke, “Brian, someone to see you. What’s your name?” she asked Phillip.

  “Phillip Mott.”

  “Phillip Mott. Okay.” She hung up. “He’ll be up in a sec to get you.” She smiled at him now.

  In less than a minute, Brian opened the door between the waiting room and the back of the station. He held out his hand. “Good to see you, Mr. Mott.” Phillip shook it.

  “You too.”

  Brian motioned ‘this way’ and Phillip followed him down a hall to a large room filled with a scattering of desks topped with computers and phones. Chairs were placed next to the desks and behind them, and file cabinets and printers lined up against the walls. A few other officers were at desks, working on whatever cops worked on at computers. Nothing appeared new, but
it didn’t seem busted up or run-down either.

  Brian sat at a desk and Phillip took the chair next to it.

  “So how are you doing?” Brian squinted at his face. “Black eye looks a bit better. How’re your ribs?”

  “Better. I’m fine. Really.” Phillip laced his fingers together, then separated them. Then rubbed his palms on the thighs of his jeans. Man, is it hot in here? A drop of sweat rolled down his neck. The last time he’d been in a police station he’d been questioned about his and his mother’s activities. He’d gone home, packed his bag and left. No explanation, no note.

  “Good to hear.” Brian smiled. “So, I’m going to need to take your statement, okay? I want you to write down whatever you remember.” He slid a sheet of paper across the desk and handed him a pen.

  “Okay.” Phillip held up the form to read it over. Simple enough. Name, date and time had been filled out. Statement of victim stood empty. Guess that’s me.

  “If it helps, I can ask you some questions to guide you.”

  “Sure.” Phillip held the pen ready.

  “Tell me what happened, starting at you were at the bar.” Phillip started scribbling. “Tell me if you approached Mr. Crowder or if he approached you.”

  “Crowder? That’s his name?” They’d never gotten to first or last names.

  Phillip wrote, telling his story. The guy had sat next to him. They’d started talking, small shit like the weather and the holiday. Things were going good. Shared a few laughs. The scene played in his head. His throat tightened and his hand shook. He fisted it and pushed it into his thigh. Oh hell, not now, not here. Took a few deep breaths and let them out slow and long.

  He paused. How the hell did he explain the next part? Did he just admit to asking the guy to take a walk to the bathroom? Oh fuck. Another bead of sweat joined the next one. He peered into Brian’s face for some sort of help.

  Brian gave him a grimace. “I get it. But you gotta know Crowder told his side of the story to me last night. There’s not going to be any way for you to hide this.”