Loyal

by Hollis Shiloh

  "He also steals my junk food and eats more than man and beast combined," said Tomas. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, eyes sparkling. He shook his head slowly. "You actually manned up," he told Justin. "I can't believe it."

  "Thanks," said Justin, dragging the word out, but unable to hide his smile.

  "Here's the thing," said Tommy, with a light of triumph in his eyes. "As an interested party, I have quite a few things to say."

  "No doubt," said Justin dryly.

  "You'll have your own ideas about how this works, God knows," said Tomas to Justin, "and heaven help us if it's up to Riley to resist being bowled over by your plans and schemes and certainty. You could probably talk anyone into anything—but I'm not giving him up. He works with me, and we're too good at it to quit, even for a relationship between you guys. Don't get me wrong, I won't stand in the way—but professionally, I sure as hell will. You can't shoehorn him into homicide work—cold case or not—without making him miserable."

  "Well, look at you, all tall, dark, and confident," said Justin in a displeased sort of way. "For the record, I wasn't about to shoehorn Riley into anything."

  "Good. Don't." Hands on hips, he stared at Justin intimidatingly. (At least he wasn't wearing the apron anymore.) "And don't try to separate us because you're jealous. If you care enough, you'll work through it. Riley and I belong together—professionally and as friends—and you need to accept that, especially since, according to Riley, it's at least partly your fault we're together."

  "He told you about that, did he?"

  Tomas grimaced. "It brought me down a peg or two, I admit. But the end result is still that he's my partner, not yours. Boyfriends—that's fine. But don't try to take him away from me. I can look after him in the job better than you can. It doesn't have to conflict."

  "I think that's quite clear," said Justin, trying to cut him off from belaboring the point any further.

  "The question isn't whether I'm being clear. It's whether you're listening." Tomas was still waiting for something. Did he want to fight?

  "I'm listening," said Justin, as though it cost him. "Now would you kindly let us talk alone for five minutes?"

  Tomas laughed, a real laugh surprised out of him, and then glanced at my face. Whatever he saw there reassured him. He gave a nod, his smile sweet and quick, and ducked back out of the room again.

  "I thought he'd never leave," said Justin, leaning closer to me. He squeezed his hand in mine. His eyes gleamed. "Is it okay if I kiss you?"

  My mouth went dry. I nodded. It was definitely okay if he kissed me. But, at the same time, warning bells tolled in my head. This was a voice I didn't want to say no to. What was I going to do if he asked me in that eager, hopeful, gruff tone if I'd get on my knees and suck him off?

  I couldn't do that. I was fairly certain I couldn't, anyway, and I didn't want to try, not even for him. The scars might be old but they were burned deep.

  Whether there was anything else sexual I was uncomfortable with I didn't know. I hadn't had a lot of experience, and my hormones were already screaming loudly that any damn thing would be pleasant if I was doing it with Justin. Anything except that.

  Justin gave me an alert look. "What's the matter? What is it?" He'd been moving in for that kiss, a cocky little grin on his mouth, which managed to look soft, too. He'd drawn back when he saw something flicker across my face.

  "Nothing." Did I have to say it? Probably. I'd be worrying about it otherwise, and he'd been the one brave enough to admit his feelings first. I knew that hadn't been easy, and I shouldn't make him guess what was wrong now.

  I lowered my gaze, because it was too hard if I had to look at him. My hand had found his arm, and my fingers stroked gingerly, distractedly, up and down. He had a very nice arm, and it felt good to be allowed to touch him.

  "Um. I don't want to—do blow jobs. Okay? So, um, don't ever ask, because the answer is just always going to be no. I don't want to have to worry about that."

  "Okay." He gave me a close look. "That's perfectly fine. I wasn't going to." He coughed, then cleared his throat, his face reflecting anger and pain on my behalf. He touched my arm, gentle with me. "Although if you even want to be on the receiving end, you just let me know." His smile was back, encouraging, loving, warm.

  I stared. How could he just put that on the table like that? Like he was willing to offer me anything, and that was only the beginning. Obviously he didn't have the same experiences as me; he didn't find it scary and disturbing to offer that, but still, for a moment, I was blown away. So to speak.

  "It's just a thought." He gave me a reassuring pat. "Now how about that kiss?"

  "Okay," I managed, and moved closer to him.

  I hadn't ever been kissed before. Not really. Not since I was very small, during games with other pups—playing at mates the way we'd pretend we were superheroes or firemen. It had all been innocent and a long time ago.

  This was not innocent, not even a little bit.

  Justin started out gentle, but this was a man who knew what he wanted. I wanted it, too. He filled my senses; it was like being drunk, but much nicer, and pretty soon he had hold of my head and was kissing me long and deep, and I was drowning in him, not even trying to swim to shore.

  If this was what kissing was like, I'd really been missing out. Although I didn't think it was that; I thought it was him. Just him.

  If I hadn't been able to get over him when he was thousands of miles away and driving me crazy, I sure as shit wasn't going to now.

  TOMAS RETURNED BEFORE we could start having wild sex on the kitchen table or something. We were both too distracted to talk to him sensibly. I was glad; I was glad I wasn't the only one.

  Tomas had something to say, but I couldn't focus on it. Justin answered instead, but his voice was too excited. His heart pounded hard—I could hear it—and he couldn't stop grinning. It was a very triumphant grin, but it looked good on him. Plus he kept hold of my hand most of the time, which felt amazing.

  Why couldn't he have said something sooner? We'd have saved so much time.

  The thought didn't sit right, though. Sure, in my imagination we flew into each other's arms as equals and lovers, but really, would that have worked? I was only starting to gain confidence, and we'd had things to work out. Maybe that wouldn't have happened if he'd thrown caution to the wind sooner.

  Looking back, he had given me a few hints, though. Those bouts of reserve around guys he thought I was interested in, almost like he was jealous. The questions about my dating life, and whether I'd found a mate, things that didn't really affect him, unless he was interested in me (or just plain nosy, which was what I'd assumed at the time).

  It hadn't been a faulty assumption; he really did have a strong personality, and he'd taken a interest in turning my life in the direction he chose. But he had at least tried not to take charge in this one area, and for that I was grateful.

  The first time I'd seen him, I'd be afraid he'd want to use me for sexual satisfaction, because he could boss me around and we both knew it. Those feelings had faded quickly, once I learned what kind of man he actually was. Then, the lingering feeling of being his project, someone he looked down on and didn't consider competent, had left a sour taste in my mouth. I hadn't even considered he was interested in me, because of course he wouldn't look at a fixer-upper that way.

  Now, somehow, it was happening, and it felt amazing. Well, we hadn't actually gotten any further than kissing and holding hands, but I wasn't worried.

  Would it be better or worse, having him be my first real, honest, wanted sexual experience? I thought it would be better for me, with no bad memories to overcome (at least if we avoided that one thing). Whether it would be worse for him or not, time would tell.

  But really, if there was one thing Justin liked, it was taking the reins. He wouldn't have a problem with my lack of experience, if it meant he was the one who got to teach me. He might even get off on it.

  I somehow didn't think a l
ittle shyness or inexperience in the bedroom was going to put him off. There was no point pretending with him. I wasn't an experienced, confident guy in bed. It wouldn't fool him for a second if I tried to fake it.

  That was one of the things that I liked about Justin: he could see what was going on with me most of the time. Of course sometimes that was downright annoying, but most of the time, I liked it that he understood me better than most people. We could communicate easily, even if I wasn't the most talkative or confident guy around. A lot of the time, he just got me.

  Plus I knew that if he ever did run roughshod over me, I had the confidence to call him on it—and he'd listen. That wouldn't have been true at first, not by a long shot.

  "How about you guys go and do something fun tomorrow?" suggested Tomas, after checking my expression carefully, and apparently being satisfied with what he saw. "I'll make sure you get a vacation day, Riley. I'm still going in, though. I don't want to be the third wheel—unless you need me to."

  I shook my head. "That—won't be necessary." I looked at Justin. "Won't that be a problem with your conference, though?" He couldn't exactly knock off that just to spend time with me, much as I'd like that.

  He shrugged. "I can skip one day. I won't miss much."

  "Your conference," said Tomas, in the tone of voice that said he didn't believe there was any conference at all.

  I looked at Justin quickly, wanting to silently beg him not to verbally wipe the floor with Tomas. To my surprise, Justin looked embarrassed.

  "Justin!" I said, shocked and a bit pleased. "You lied to me?"

  He shrugged. "It...it's a conference. It's just not a necessary conference. The precinct didn't send me. I went on my own, using vacation days. It...seemed like a legitimate excuse to see you. It was the closest one I could find."

  Tommy laughed. "You don't have your cop's instinct yet, Riley. We're suspicious of our own grandmothers." He ruffled my hair when he walked past. He was happy for me, even though he didn't personally care for Justin at all.

  TOMMY GOT ME ALONE for a minute when I went to put on a clean shirt after supper. I was still sweaty from the run and from stress, and may have dripped ice cream on myself as well. It was not the sort of shirt to spend time with my new boyfriend in. I'd picked out a nice polo instead.

  "Listen," Tomas said, taking hold of my lapels and looking there, not at my face. He fiddled with them, adjusting the collar, making it nice and smooth. "I know you're an adult. I know you can take care of yourself. But I also know this is all pretty new to you, and you're not a forceful person, Riley, you're just not. So I'm trusting you. But if you need my backup, will you give me a hint? If you need some space, or an excuse to slow down, I'm here for you, buddy."

  He let me go and then gave me a rough pat on the arm and finally met my eyes. "So what I'm going to do is, tomorrow, while I'm at work and you're not, I'm going to call you and check in. Several times. If things are...if you need an excuse, you've got one, understand? Say it's an emergency, darn the luck, you've got to go. Okay?"

  "Okay." I cupped his cheek one-handed, gentle with him. He understood me too well sometimes. And he'd offered in such a way that I couldn't possibly be offended. "Thank you."

  He pulled me into his arms and hugged me tight, sighing a little. "I mean it about you not working homicide. Don't throw me over for him. I don't think it would make any of us happy in the end."

  "No. Me neither." I stroked the back of his head gently. He was very good to me, Tommy.

  "Do you want to do anything tonight?" asked Justin, rounding the corner, his voice excited and his words coming out fast. "Drinks? Dancing? A movie, perhaps? Or..."

  He paused when he saw me and Tomas holding each other. "Or, okay, you could do that." He sounded miserable under the false cheer in his voice, and his eyes looked wary, uncertain, and insecure.

  "Justin," I said. "Please don't get jealous." I released Tomas and went to embrace him. "Please."

  "Sorry," he said, but he still sounded pained. "I've never seen you so physically comfortable with anyone before, even Nolan."

  Tomas moved past us, shoving his way out of the room, his eyes down as he rubbed a hand under his nose. He seemed so bereaved, I wished I could go after him without making everything worse.

  "He's very important to me, and I won't apologize for that." I drew back. I could have mentioned what a tactile guy I was, but he already knew that. I could've mentioned that I was lucky to have someone in my life who understood that as well, and wasn't offended by my need to hug, touch, even sleep on the end of his bed.

  But I wasn't going to. I wasn't going to keep making excuses for how Tomas and I interacted.

  It wasn't Justin's right to be jealous of that. He had a say in my life—more now than before—but he didn't get to decide who I could be friends with, or how. He couldn't control that, shouldn't try.

  He either had to believe me or not—I couldn't always be apologizing about it or trying to change who I was. He'd accepted other things about me, so why not this?

  "Do I have to play games about this? You're supposed to be the confident one," I told him.

  "Sorry. This is pretty new. Me, lacking confidence." He forced a laugh, but it sounded pained. He drew back and held me at arm's length, studying my face, assessing me.

  I let him.

  "You're right that I shouldn't be jealous, or make your friendship difficult. I am a bit insecure lately—I admit it. I'm going to take you at your word. You've agreed to date me. I'll cherish the honor."

  I grinned, because he sounded so formal. "Okay."

  He made a face. "And I'm probably mostly insecure because the—the people at my workplace are already making noises about me finding a new job. Apparently I'm stepping on too many toes. But I'm getting so close to a big breakthrough!"

  "Then keep stepping on toes till you get there, or they throw you out bodily." I could give him this advice easily, because I knew that's what he wanted to do, what he was best at: charging ahead, finding solutions, stepping on toes.

  It would be murder for me to have to do it, really not my area of strength, but for him to back down or let someone else take charge, or even to force himself to play nice with people he needed to wipe the floor with, would be like denying some fundamental Justin-ness about him, muzzling the predator within, chaining up all his power, and making something inside him wither away.

  Justin was still, at his core, very alpha-like. I would never ask him to change that, as long as he could keep it reined in sufficiently not to drive me insane.

  "You'll be all right," I told him. "You've got this."

  "I know. You're right." He sighed. Then his eyes started to sparkle again. "So, do you want to do something tonight or not?"

  I shook my head. "Going out isn't my idea of fun. Although I kind of like grocery shopping, sometimes."

  "You want to go grocery shopping?" He brows rose high.

  "No. We don't need anything. I'm just saying that's about the only trip out I actually enjoy."

  "So...a night of TV? Or do you want to talk, read, play board games, something else?"

  "TV sounds nice." At least if I could snuggle up on the couch with him, and we could share kisses. I probably wouldn't care what was on the screen.

  He grinned. "Perfect. As for tomorrow...think about what you'd like to do, then. Unless you want to watch TV all day." His sparkling grin challenged me to admit to that I was a TV addict.

  I hesitated, then leaned closer. "What I really want to do tomorrow is have sex." I kept my voice low, in the hopes Tomas wouldn't overhear. Not that I thought he was listening in, but I would be embarrassed if he did happen to overhear this conversation. "After Tomas leaves for work, we'll have the whole place to ourselves."

  It would be perfect. I felt comfortable here, it would be private and quiet. We'd have hours and hours to work on the sex part of the relationship! I was so ready.

  Justin almost choked on his startled laugh. "Are you sure about that? I
t's nothing we have to jump into right away, if you're not comfortable."

  "I'm comfortable. I want to jump in." I stared at him, memorizing his features, thinking about him, thinking about sex. The bright red color that crept up his cheeks was interesting for sure. "I didn't know you could blush," I told him.

  "Well, it's—it's been a while. You bring it out in me. If you're sure," he said, sounding a little breathless.

  I nodded. "I'm sure. Wait, did you mean it's been a while since you blushed, or had sex?"

  "Both. Not much embarrasses me. And I've been too hung up on a certain sexy ex-enforcer wolf shifter to even consider dating anyone else." He grinned at me. "That's you, by the way."

  I was stunned. "You think I'm sexy?" As far as I knew, not many people had thought that about me, especially not men. Men usually seemed to think I was plug-ugly, or a challenge to them personally by my mere existence.

  "Yes," he said. His voice was almost a growl, and banked fires seemed to live in his eyes. Fires I wouldn't mind exploring. I shuddered a little under his gaze—the good kind of shuddering.

  "Well, as long as you remember what I said I don't want to do, I'm open to anything." I met his gaze.

  I trusted him. I liked him. I'd fallen for him too hard to pretend otherwise, to play coy, to not move ahead with this while I had my chance with him. "Anything. You'll have to show me how to do it right, but...whatever you want. I trust you."

  He looked like he was going to swallow his tongue. His eyes bulged for a minute before he got them under control, and when he could speak again he was stammering. "A-Are you a virgin, Riles?"

  "I think so," I said. "If that other stuff doesn't count."

  "It doesn't." He grabbed me close, and the growl was back in his voice. He hugged me tight. "It definitely doesn't count."

  "Good," I said, very quietly, close to his ear, as I played with the hair at the back of his neck, my fingers very gentle. "Because everything else, I'll be learning it with you. No bad memories to overwrite. Nothing holding me back. Just you and me."