by Jamie Craig
“God…I can’t wait to feel your cock,” Scott rasped, his head dropping back as Duke pushed his fingers deeper. “I can’t wait for you to fuck me.”
Duke couldn’t either. A part of him wanted to pull his fingers free and replace them with his length. But he also wanted this to be good for both of them. He wanted to slip into Scott’s body without any resistance. He wanted Scott to ride him without hesitation. He rested his brow against Scott’s shoulder and took a deep breath, catching the faint, heady smell of fresh sweat on Scott’s skin.
He held like that, fingers moving in and out of Scott’s body, tongue darting out to taste the salt tempting him with its proximity, for what felt like an eternity. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. It wanted to get the show on the road, too. Nothing would force his hand, though. Nothing would ruin what he suspected was going to be amazing for both of them.
When he finally pulled his fingers free, Duke caught the back of Scott’s neck with his other hand and held him still, while he kissed a hot trail up his throat, over his jaw, to that alluring mouth. He sealed them together, moaning when Scott wrapped his arms so tightly around his back his ribs cracked.
“Now.” The single hoarse word didn’t even sound like him. “Need you now, James.”
“I think that’s the best thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Duke was prepared to fall to his back, but Scott held him upright with one arm while he used his other hand to guide Duke’s shaft into his slick hole. The head pushed against Scott’s flesh, thicker than his entrance. They were locked together like that for a long beat, and Duke wondered if either of them would ever move. Then Scott eased back, forcing Duke’s thick crown into his channel. Duke moaned as Scott clenched around him, his body already electrified by the promise of being completely sheathed.
He had been wrong. Time stopped now, not earlier. The sound that came from his throat stretched longer and longer, incapable of ceasing until the torment of waiting for Scott to stop moving ended. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he wondered if he should have taken longer with James, if he should have been more careful, more attentive in preparing him for this. But Scott wouldn’t have guided him in if he hadn’t been ready. He wouldn’t be shaking in his arms now, his breath like fire against Duke’s neck, if he didn’t want this just as badly.
They both sighed when the firm flesh of Scott’s ass met Duke’s hard thighs. Duke ran his free hand up and down Scott’s back, and turned his head to kiss the soft skin behind his ear.
“You feel so good,” he breathed.
“So do you.” Scott turned his head quickly, catching Duke’s mouth in a hard kiss as his muscles tightened around Duke. “Better than I imagined.” Scott kissed him again. “And I have a good imagination.”
So did Duke, and he hadn’t even dreamed of anything feeling as good as Scott did. The heat scorched him. Burned him everywhere they touched. He felt every breath, every beat of Scott’s heart, every flutter of his muscles. But all those sensations disappeared—were completely overwhelmed—as soon as Scott started moving.
He held on more tightly than he would have anticipated needing to. Even sitting down, his legs shook, tremors that worsened with each rise and fall of Scott’s body. He squeezed around Duke’s cock every time he was fully seated, while his velvety walls seemed to cling to him when he pulled away. Through it all, Scott never abandoned his mouth, swallowing him down as if he had no intention of ever letting him go.
Both of Duke’s hands went to Scott’s ass, his fingers digging into each cheek. It was more of an attempt to brace himself, because he had no hope of controlling Scott. None. The other man would move—or wouldn’t move—at his own pace. It was the price Duke had to pay for letting Scott ride him, but he wouldn’t switch positions for anything. Especially when Scott started to move faster, his cock sliding against Duke’s stomach.
He was not a vocal lover. Now, with Scott refusing to yield an ounce of extra breath with his fervent kisses, he had lost any hope of ever finding his voice again. All he was capable of were the long, drawn-out groans that reverberated through both of their bodies, the occasional grunt when Scott squeezed around his cock, the random growl when the pleasure sliced through him at new and raw angles. Sweat coated their skin, dripping from his hair to tickle at his lip, but then James would lick it away and devour his mouth all over again, seemingly invigorated by each taste.
“Owen…”
It sounded more like a moan than an actual word. It didn’t have the shape of the word, and Scott’s mouth was still mostly attached to his, but Duke understood.
He fell backward—or maybe he was pushed. Duke didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. Especially since Scott didn’t miss a beat. His body still moved in the same slow, maddening, intoxicating, perfect rhythm. But now he was sliding down Duke at a new angle, gripping his length with a new strength.
His fingers itched to touch even more than he already was. Though letting go of Scott’s ass was agony, he did so to slither a way between their bodies and find the man’s trapped cock. Pre-come coated both of them. He would have loved to wipe it across his palm and eat it away, but that would mean abandoning Scott’s mouth and he wasn’t quite ready for that. Next time. Because there would be a next time. And a time after that, and if his cock hadn’t fallen off yet at that point, a time after that again.
For now, he fisted the hot shaft and pulled in the same tempo Scott chose.
Two could play this game of exquisite torture.
Everything about Scott tightened. His walls clamped down around Duke’s length. His back went rigid. The muscles in his abdomen trembled each time Duke scraped his knuckles across Scott’s stomach. He even whimpered, a sound that Duke caught with his mouth and echoed as the pressure around his cock increased. The tension didn’t drain from him, but he did move a little faster, the friction sending a fresh flurry of sparks down his spine.
He wouldn’t last. Not at this rate. He was more than a little surprised he’d lasted this long already. But damned if he was going to come first, not with Scott teetering on the edge of his orgasm. He wanted to feel that hot come splash across his hands and stomach. He wanted to smell it, to taste it, to hear Scott come undone around him.
So he tightened his grip. Pulled faster, harder, let his nails scrape across skin whenever he could. And started meeting each slam of Scott’s hips with a driving thrust of his own.
Scott broke away from his mouth for what felt like the first time of the night. His eyes flashed, his face flushed, his brows dotted with sweat. Duke almost protested the loss of contact, but he couldn’t speak. Not when Scott sat up completely, his golden body rising above Duke’s, and slammed down on Duke’s length. He didn’t loosen his grip, and his fingers flexed instinctually. Scott’s back arched, and he choked out a shout as his cock jerked in Duke’s hand, long strings of come erupting from him.
The first splatter across his skin triggered his release. Duke drove upward one final time, his entire body stiffening, and slammed his head back into the pillow. He shot once, twice, too many times to count as Scott’s passage squeezed around him with the same swift shivers that wracked the rest of his body.
“James…” He tugged at Scott, relieved when he fell forward without hesitation. He sought out his mouth. Already, he missed the taste of him.
Scott sighed into the kiss, following Duke’s lead without trying to take control. Scott’s frame shook with the occasional aftershock, and Duke didn’t know if he’d ever stop trembling.
“God, Owen…I felt like I was waiting forever for this.” He kissed the corner of Duke’s mouth. “It was worth it.”
“Yes, it was.” It was worth even more. Duke thought he would sacrifice almost anything to ensure he got it again. “I can’t…I don’t…” He chuckled, burying his face in Scott’s neck. He couldn’t even speak, apparently.
“When I can move…if I ever can…I’ll go get your dinner. Not going to let you out of bed.”
“Not even for a shower?”
“In the morning.”
He nipped at the sweaty skin. “I could make it worth your while.”
Scott rolled to his side without untangling himself from Duke. “When you say it like that, I think I can be convinced.”
Duke bent to skim another kiss across Scott’s swollen lips, its unexpected tenderness feeling more right than anything else all day. “It’ll be my pleasure.”
Chapter 13
James Scott had never been more exhausted. He felt it all the way down to his bones. It was a pleasant sort of exhaustion. The kind that made his limbs heavy, and his mind cloudy. Except, instead of drifting in a sweet fog, his brain was working overtime. Thinking about Hector and Sammy Jenkins. About the man who connected them both. A voice in the back of his mind told him he was grasping at straws. Just because he lost a single case didn’t mean there was a massive conspiracy. It meant the jury had weighed the evidence and found in the state’s favor. It was bound to happen sometime, even when he had done his best work.
It didn’t mean District Attorney Horan was so thoroughly corrupt that even cases he didn’t try personally were tainted with the rot.
But it did mean that every single case Horan’s office had prosecuted in the past six years would be thrown out. If Horan was indeed guilty of something—as he seemed to be. That was a reality Scott wasn’t sure he could face.
“Haven’t I worn you out yet?” Duke’s voice was low and harsh. Like he had a slightly sore throat.
“Physically? Yes. Very much so. But mentally…”
The mattress shifted beneath him. Duke’s arm came to rest, warm and heavy, over his waist. “Tackle the Jenkins problem tomorrow at work. You’re supposed to be relaxing right now.”
“It’s not just that. It’s Hector, too. And I’m stressed enough that if I let my guard down, I’ll have about a thousand other things shouting for my attention.”
“There’s a difference now, though. You don’t have to shoulder all this yourself. I’m not walking away from the case.”
Scott almost cracked a joke about neither of them walking anywhere for a while, but it died in his mouth. He wasn’t in a very jocular mood. “I know that. You never told me what you were up to earlier today.”
“No, I didn’t. I didn’t want to stress you out even more.”
“Well, now you pretty much have to tell me. Otherwise, I’ll stay up all night trying to figure out what could possibly stress me more.”
Duke’s arm tightened, pulling Scott closer, and his mouth skimmed across Scott’s bare shoulder. “I went to Woodson to interview Chandra Cunningham about Tana Mayfield. She didn’t really give me a whole lot more to work with, but I talked to one of the men there, too. Or tried to, anyway. He pegged me for a cop and bolted, but not before letting me know Horan and his men are regular visitors out there.”
“What the hell is Horan doing going there?”
“Asking questions. Recruiting rats. I thought for a while there that maybe Horan tried recruiting Young, and Young balked. That that’s why he’s playing hardball with Young. But if Tana’s involved, that can’t be it. Or at least, that can’t be all of it.”
“No, it’s not all of it. You heard the tape. Horan thinks Hector is holding something. He claims he has no idea what that something is, though, and I believe him.”
“Yeah. I do, too. He sounded pretty vehement.” Silence lapsed for a moment, filled only with the random brush of Duke’s mouth across his skin, the occasional slide of his fingertips across Scott’s side. “What if Horan tried recruiting Tana? She could have been gathering evidence for him just as easily as any of the men.”
“I don’t know. That doesn’t feel right to me. Tana would only be able to gather evidence against the people she interacted with while she was there. Horan wouldn’t be interested in the people at the halfway house, right? He’d have bigger fish to fry. Fish that Tana wouldn’t be in contact with.”
“Considering how new some of the cars I saw were, I’m not so sure there isn’t at least a couple big fish in that pond.”
“Horan isn’t threatening Hector’s life just because he wanted to catch some fence or a dealer at the halfway house. There are easier ways to do that.”
“Did you get a chance to look for any possible connections between Tana and Horan before you got called into court?”
“No. Do you think we’d find any besides Hector and Woodson?”
“We won’t know until we try. And that’s clearly your link. We can’t afford to turn our back on it.”
“It’s part of the link, no doubt. But I think there’s something more pressing than that. We’ve got to figure out what Horan thinks Hector is holding, and we’ve got to figure out where it actually is.”
“And how do you propose finding that out without knowing what the link between them is?” His arm tightened again. “Look. I know you’re worried about Hector. I know you want him out of there. But sometimes, charging at the problem is not necessarily the best way to solve it.”
“I don’t need to know exactly how Tana Mayfield and DA Horan met to know that she was clearly in possession of something he needs. Something that wasn’t in her apartment at the time of her death.” Scott exhaled. “Have you spoken to anybody at her dance studio?”
“Not yet. I got done at Woodson and headed straight for you.”
“I think you should do that tomorrow.” Scott glanced over to the clock. “Well, technically, today. I think we might need a fuller picture of Tana Mayfield.”
“What are you going to do?”
“For Hector? I…I honestly don’t know. I have a friend in the DA’s office who is always willing to meet for a drink. I could pick his brain, see what he knows.”
“Did you get around to calling someone about security today?”
“No. Sorry. I planned to do it over the lunch I never had the chance to take. But you’re not going to let anything happen to me, right?”
The bed shifted again, Duke’s warm weight disappearing. A moment later, the lamp on the nightstand came on, revealing Duke’s frown. “If Horan is the one behind all this, you can’t take your safety this lightly, James. I’ll be there when I can, but we both have jobs to do.”
Duke was not only very serious, he was right. Scott knew he couldn’t take the situation lightly, and he shouldn’t have been so cavalier about arranging for security. Unfortunately, something about the shape of Duke’s frown made Scott want to kiss it. How had he only known this man for three days? How was that even possible?
“You’re right. I know you are.” Scott offered a reassuring smile. “I’ll see to it first thing in the morning.”
But Duke didn’t seem placated. “Will you let me arrange something?”
“You don’t trust me to do it?”
“I don’t trust Horan and how far he can reach. I’ve been training some very talented cadets this year. I’d like to assign one to tail you. Just to keep an eye out from a distance. It doesn’t have to replace what you do. In fact, it’s probably better if we have both layers of protection.”
Scott grinned. “You’re not using this as an excuse to spy on me, are you?”
The frown smoothed. “You’re not giving me a reason to spy on you, are you?”
“Before I can answer that, I need to know just how jealous you tend to be.”
“I don’t get jealous. It’s a waste of time.” His mouth twitched. “I get even.”
The urge to kiss him returned, but with more strength. “I guess that means I better be on my best behavior. I don’t mind at all if you want to assign a cadet to tail me.”
Duke finally seemed to relax, and twisted again for the light to blanket them in darkness. “I’ll give them explicit instructions not to interfere with your routine unless they absolutely have to.” His weight returned, enveloping Scott more effectively than the dark. Kisses rained across his shoulder, climbing upward to his neck. “Occasionally, they even listen to me.”
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“I don’t mind the occasional interruption to my routine. For example, I don’t usually have guests over on weeknights.”
“I think these might qualify as extenuating circumstances.”
“You’ve got a point there.” He could tell by the puff of breath on his ear how close Duke’s mouth was to his. Without giving it a second thought, he turned his head and caught the other man’s mouth. Every time he kissed Duke, it was a delightful surprise. He wondered if he would eventually grow tired of it. Or if he would have the chance to grow tired of it. “You going to be my guest tomorrow night, too?”
Duke cupped the back of his neck, working gently at the muscles. “I wouldn’t presume. But it would be easier to protect you if I’m in the same place.”
Scott skimmed his palm down Duke’s side and came to a rest at his hip. “I’ll call you tomorrow when I’m done with my meeting. Hopefully, there will be something to celebrate.”
“You can call me even if you don’t have a reason to celebrate, you know. We don’t…this doesn’t have to be something that just happens because of our coinciding cases.”
“That’s good.” Scott pulled him closer. He liked the way they fit together, and the warmth of Duke’s leg as he draped it over Scott’s. “But I just meant that I hope tomorrow I have reason to be in a better mood. Which is probably far too optimistic.”
“If you’re not in a good mood, I’ll fix it with another massage.” His soft chuckle vibrated through Scott’s cheek. “I’ve just given you the excuse you’re going to use to get one, haven’t I?”
“Absolutely. No matter how well things go tomorrow, I’m going to act like I’m in a rotten mood. You’ve already got me hooked on your massages.”
A kiss brushed across his temple. “I’m glad you let me come home with you tonight. I’m not sure how happy I would’ve been if you’d found a way to shake me.”