by J. P. Bowie
“The kids said some of their johns were cops,” Sam said, seething. “Let’s go.” He was out of the car and heading for the trees before Martin could ease himself from behind the steering wheel. Sam pounded across the park, cursing as a car engine started up. He ran out onto the road in time to see a black SUV driving toward Santa Monica Boulevard. He strained to catch the license number but the light over the plate was out.
“Damn,” he muttered. Martin joined him, puffing out big breaths. “The son of a bitch was prepared. Probably had a driver waiting.”
“How the hell is he going to explain this away?” Martin rasped, still trying to catch his breath. “Man, but I have to get in shape.”
“He can’t. Sorry, Martin, we have to get back to the car. Let’s go.”
“Oh, man.”
“Traffic’s always bad on Santa Monica,” Sam said, “so we have a chance of catching up, or at least keeping him in our sights. See where he’s going.”
“Yeah, yeah, you drive”—he threw Sam the keys—“while I give myself some CPR.”
They got a break at the end of the road. There was no left turn onto Santa Monica so they didn’t have to toss up which way to go. “Keep an eye out for a black SUV up ahead,” Sam said.
“Right, ’cause there’s hardly any of those.”
Sam chuckled and punched in the precinct’s number. “Hi, Mary, get me the duty sergeant please. Thanks. Hey, Captain Thomason, got a problem here. The area McCready and I are staking out for the case. Yeah, that one. Detective Sanders just approached a kid in the park and drove off with him in a black SUV, don’t have the make yet. You have a take on this? Didn’t think so. Okay, we’re on Santa Monica Boulevard heading west. I’ll call in again when we get a fix on the vehicle.”
“There it is,” Martin said. “Turning left at the light.”
“Roger that.” He turned left, leaving enough room so that Sanders wouldn’t get antsy. The SUV made several turns into a residential area then pulled up onto a driveway and stopped. Sam parked behind it, barring the exit.
“Hey, Sanders,” Martin yelled when the occupants got out. Eliot Sanders and his partner, George Mackie, and a young guy in his teens.
Sanders glared at them. “What d’you guys want?”
“You wanna explain this?” Sam asked him. “We watched you approach this kid in the park and drive away with him. What gives?”
“What the fuck business is it of yours?”
“We were staking out the park, dumbass,” Martin snapped. “Don’t you know what’s going on in your own precinct? You heard Hoskins give us the case of the murdered hustler. You waltzed into the middle of our stakeout and drove away with a kid. What do you think we’re gonna think?”
“Oh wow…” The kid grinned at Sanders. “You really messed up, Uncle El.”
Mackie groaned and Sanders began to sputter. “I—I didn’t know. His mother said he’d gone out to meet friends and he got lost. Went to the wrong park, I guess.”
“Is this true, son?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, kinda.”
“What does that mean, kinda?” Martin snapped
“I didn’t get lost. My friends sent me to that fag park on purpose just to razz me.”
“Fag park?” Martin growled.
“Yeah, where all those queers hang out. We were fixin’ to beat some of them up, but I guess my buds chickened out.”
“Oh, I see…” Martin fixed Sanders with an evil eye. “Like uncle, like nephew, huh? Teaching him early about who to hate. Who to pick on. Good one, Sanders. Be proud of yourself.”
The kid sneered. “What, are you guys fags, too? I thought you were cops.”
“Shut up, Kirby,” Sanders snapped. “That’s enough!”
“Kirby?” Martin chortled. “Better get a grip, kid.”
“Martin, let’s go.” Sam turned on his heel. “We have to call this in.” He was having a hard time not busting out laughing at the expressions on Sanders’ and his nephew’s faces. Talk about dumb and dumber. Yeah, he and Martin had made a wrong call, but what in hell was Sanders thinking being okay with his punk of a nephew going into West Hollywood to beat up on hustlers? What a scumbag.
“Oh, my good God,” Martin groaned as he piled into the car. “What a bunch of assholes. Can you believe those guys? If I was Mackie, I’d ask for a new partner. Jeez!” He bumped Sam’s shoulder. “I guess it was too much to hope Sanders really was mixed up in this mess. I so want to deck that jerk.”
“You’ll have to stand in line behind me,” Sam said. “Okay, let me call this in before Thomason puts out an APB on Sanders.”
* * * *
Justin was not happy when he got home. He’d had a great weekend regardless of the fact it had been Sam-less, but fortunately it had also been Michael-less. He’d kept his fingers crossed that his big brother wouldn’t show with his usual display of homophobia and tactless comments about little Simon’s fondness for his Uncle Justin.
They had almost come to blows on one of Justin’s visits home and it had ended up with his dad throwing Michael out—until he decided to apologize, which of course didn’t happen. Justin hadn’t seen his brother since then and he was happy to keep it that way.
So the weekend had gone seamlessly with everyone getting on like a house on fire and enjoying once another’s company. Justin’s only gripe was that he wasn’t spending at least a part of it with Sam. Seamlessly, that was, until the return flight got screwed up and delayed by more than three hours so that he missed his connection and arrived in LAX after midnight. At least his car was in the parking lot and he didn’t have to wait for a cab or Uber amid the seething masses of grouchy passengers.
Then, of course, dealing with the 405 didn’t help. He was always amazed that there weren’t more accidents on that freeway as even at almost one a.m. the traffic was shitty, to say the least. All this and the fact he’d decided to get to work early so he could secure his boss’ newfound liking for his work.
No sooner was he through the door than his cell chimed. Seeing Sam’s name on the screen rid him of his grouchiness in an instant.
“Hi, Sam, how are you?”
“Okay. Sorry to call so late. I thought I might have to leave a message. Are you home?”
“Just walked in the door. Where are you?”
“Leaving the precinct. How about if I—”
“That’d be great. Come on over.”
Sam’s chuckle was sexy, like the rest of him. “How did you know what I was going to ask?”
“I didn’t know, just hoped.” Justin also hoped he wasn’t being too gushy.
“I’ll see you in about ten minutes, okay?”
“Very okay.”
After they’d hung up, Justin flew into the shower and made sure every nook and cranny was clean as a whistle. His earlier fatigue and surliness were gone. Amazing what the prospect of seeing a special man could do for him. He was quick drying himself and wondered if Sam would like a drink, or maybe even a shower. Shit. He should’ve waited, then they could have showered together. The thought of that, of Sam’s hunky body all wet and soapy, sliding over his. Oh man, don’t get all hot and bothered already. Take it easy. Still what was wrong with showing him just how happy he was about this unexpected visit?
He pulled a pair of sweat shorts and a T-shirt from his dresser drawer then ran his hands through his still damp curls. Sam would know he’d just showered. Too much pressure or would he be happy Justin had gone to the trouble? No, it wasn’t any trouble. Shit, he was going giddy with nerves. Calm down, he’ll be here in a minute or so and doesn’t want to see some jittery queen.
The doorbell chiming made him jump. Get a fucking grip! What the fuck, I’m gonna show him I’m happy to see him!
He ran to the door and yanked it open, a great big smile on his face. Sam blinked. “Wow, I’ve never been greeted like this before. How are you, Justin?”
“Better. Now you’re here.” He pulled Sam inside and wrapped his arms aroun
d him, looking for a kiss. Sam didn’t disappoint him. Their mouths came together with almost painful force, tongues meshing together in a pouring-out of passion that had Justin seeing stars. Their breath filled each other’s mouths. Soft moans and whimpers vibrated on their lips while their arms tightened around each other’s bodies. It seemed as if there was no closeness close enough for either of them.
“God,” Justin croaked when at last they broke the kiss and slackened their holds on each other. “I knew I’d missed you, but I didn’t realize how much until I saw you standing there in all your hunky glory.”
Sam laughed. “I missed you too. I just hope you had a much better weekend than I did.”
“It was good. Hey, can I get you something to drink?”
“Would you mind if I used your shower? You smell so nice and I’m kinda rank from sitting in the car for hours.”
“Help yourself. I’ll get you a fresh towel.” Justin kicked himself mentally. He should have waited on that shower. Then he could’ve suggested that they shower together. Doofus.
By the time he brought the towel to the bathroom, Sam was already in the shower and Justin leaned against the vanity, enjoying the view of Sam’s big, well-formed body which he could see outlined through the steamy glass.
“Are you peeking?” Sam asked, chuckling.
“Yes. I admit to having no shame. I’d never pass up the opportunity to ogle a beautiful man’s body.”
Sam snorted. “Beautiful?”
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, you know, and—” He gasped when Sam slid the shower door open then stepped out. “And beauty is what I’m beholding right now.”
“You have quite the silver tongue, Justin,” Sam said as he accepted the towel Justin handed him.
“And I know just what to do with it.”
Sam smiled and pulled Justin into his arms. “Give me that tongue,” he murmured, touching his parted lips to Justin’s. The kiss was long and sweet and Justin smoothed his hands down the length of Sam’s muscular back then farther to cup and squeeze the twin globes of his ass. He squeaked when Sam upended him over his shoulder and carried him into the bedroom.
“Put me down, varlet,” he said through his laughter, slapping Sam’s butt.
Sam dumped him on the bed then pulled his shorts and T-shirt off. Justin’s hard cock sprang out and Sam licked it from base to tip before taking it into his hand and mouth, sucking and squeezing until Justin thought he might pass out from the inability to breathe. He ran his fingers through Sam’s short dark hair, caressed the sides of his face, his ears, his neck, and Sam hummed his appreciation, the vibration sending chills and thrills through Justin’s entire body.
He yelped when Sam flipped him over, kissed him from his nape to his tailbone then nibbled on each rounded cheek, making Justin writhe and buck and moan.
“The first time I saw your beautiful ass,” Sam said in between licks and nibbles, “I knew I had to taste it. And it’s delicious, just like I knew it would be.”
Sam slipped his tongue into the hot recess of Justin’s ass, circling and teasing the rim with the tip of his tongue and driving Justin wild. When he plunged his tongue inside him, Justin almost came off the bed. Sam gripped Justin’s hips, holding him in place while he rimmed him, and Justin sank into the pleasure washing over and through him, moaning Sam’s name over and over.
Sam reached between Justin’s legs and gripped his pulsing shaft. Justin cried out. The ecstasy was almost too much, coming at him, it seemed, from so many pleasure points at once. Now Sam added a finger alongside his tongue and found that sweet spot that had Justin coming apart. Justin reared up, pressed himself into Sam’s chest, snaked an arm around Sam’s neck and pulled him in for a searing kiss, a choking plea carried on hot breath. “Fuck me, Sam. Oh, please, fuck me.”
Sam kissed Justin’s neck then turned him around onto his back. He grabbed the lube and condom, got himself ready then raised Justin’s legs to give himself access to Justin’s eager hole. He pressed forward, gasping as Justin’s heat and inner muscles drew him in. He moved slowly at first, letting Justin adjust to the pressure, but from the look of sheer wanton abandon on Justin’s face, perhaps he was way ahead of him.
Sam reveled in the fact that they fit together so well. Once again his fears of disappointing Justin diminished and he gave himself up to the very real pleasure that having sex with Justin brought him.
Justin smiled up at him and Sam’s heart turned over. This was so perfect. Justin was perfect. Sam leaned in for another of the amazing kisses they shared and while pleasure flowed through him, he allowed just the tiniest bud of hope to lodge in his heart that this could be something more than just sex.
He moved inside Justin, long, thrusting strokes that brought him closer and closer to the edge and Justin moaned and arched upward as Sam bore down. Justin took his erection in his hand and began pumping it in time to Sam’s increasing momentum. The vision of Justin under him, the look of concentration on his beautiful face and the glide of his rigid cock through his fist were the most erotic things Sam had ever seen.
Justin gasped, his chest heaved, his eyes met Sam’s and he cried out Sam’s name when he climaxed, his hot cum spraying over both of them. Sam couldn’t hold back another second. The force of his orgasm caused his body to arch back and up and he brought Justin with him, their bodies clamped together in an all-consuming embrace as every vestige of cum was wrung from Sam, leaving him sated and exhilarated beyond anything he’d ever known before.
Sam held Justin pressed to him while he rained kisses on his mouth and throat. The words I love you danced in his mind and it took all his willpower to stop himself from saying them out loud. It was too soon and he didn’t want to freak Justin out and spoil what they had, what they perhaps might have in the future.
“What’re you thinking about?” Justin stroked Sam’s cheek and kissed him gently. “You always seem to be lost in thought.”
“They’re good thoughts when I’m with you,” Sam said, returning Justin’s kiss. “It’s just that sometimes I feel this is all too good to be true. My being able to perform, I mean.”
“And perform, as you put it, like a stallion.” Justin chuckled. “Not that I’ve ever had a stallion, you understand, but maybe how I imagine it would be.”
“You’re amazing,” Sam said. “You make me smile even when I’m not with you. Just the thought of you is enough. Not to mention what you do to my libido. No one has ever done that for me before.” He raised himself onto his elbow and gazed at Justin for a long moment before he said, “I should tell you something that maybe will help you to understand what I’m talking about.”
“Okay, but only if you want to.” Justin ran his thumb over Sam’s lower lip. “I know there are things that are not always easy to share.”
Sam sucked Justin’s thumb for a second or two before replying. “You’re right, but I think you should hear this because…well, you’ve made a huge difference in my life. I know sex isn’t the be all and end all of a relationship, but it is important. My last partner left me because I couldn’t satisfy him, and some of that was definitely my fault. I had convinced myself I would have E.D. for the rest of my life after what happened when I was much younger. But then I met you.” He paused to kiss Justin on the lips. “And I am very glad you didn’t give me the brush-off when I came on to you in my drunken state.”
Justin kissed him back. “You and me both.”
Chapter Seven
“So tell me what happened when you were younger.”
Sam leaned back on the pillow, slipped an arm under Justin’s shoulders and Justin laid his head on Sam’s chest.
“You really want to hear about all that?” Sam asked, running his fingers through Justin’s curls.
“Most definitely.” Justin looked up into Sam’s eyes. “I want to know everything about you.”
“I was eighteen, almost out of high school, working part time in a hardware store and tossing up between enlisting
or applying for the police academy. Anyway, the night it happened I’d just locked up the store when four yahoos jumped me. I was pretty fit, even then, but there were just too many of them and when I went down I hit my head real hard on the sidewalk. They dragged me into an alley. They were saying all kinds of crap, calling me a faggot, saying I’d disgraced my family, that I deserved to die, they were going to cut off my balls. All kinds of shit. Then…well, shit, I don’t know if I can tell you this.”
“What did they do to you, Sam? I want to know so I can hate them even more than I do now.”
“They…they shoved a metal rod inside me.”
Justin stared at Sam in horror. “Oh, my God, Sam…that’s…that’s…”
“Awful, yeah. Hard to find words for that kind of creepy stuff.”
“But, Sam, you could’ve died!”
“Nearly did. I never knew it was possible to lose so much blood as I did that night. I managed to crawl back out of the alley and a guy walking his dog saw me and called 9-1-1. They stitched me up, I got blood transfusions and antibiotics and fortunately the infection I could’ve gotten from the rust on the metal didn’t take hold and cleared up pretty fast.”
“Oh, God, Sam. I just can’t imagine anything so terrible.” His expression changed from sadness to anger. “I hope they got the fuckers that did it.”
“Nope, never did. I didn’t know them, couldn’t even give a decent description, they hit me so fast.”
“Your folks must have been devastated.”
“Not really.”
“What d’you mean, not really?”
Sam sighed. This was the part of his past he rarely talked about.
“Sam!” He could tell Justin wasn’t about to let it go unanswered. “Sam, don’t tell me they didn’t care about what had happened?”
“They never knew about it. At least, I didn’t tell them. And as far as I know no one else did either. They disowned me when I came out to them, and my buddy’s folks took me in.”