by Marie Sexton
“What about Dan? I assume you’re questioning him too?”
“We will, as soon as we find the worthless SOB.”
He got up to leave but stopped at the door, one hand on the knob. “Son, I know it’s none of my business.” Oh shit. Nothing good ever came after an opening like that. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Matt. I don’t know, and I don’t really care. But let me tell you, not everybody sees it that way. I was on the force in Denver for fifteen years before I came here. I’ve seen other gay cops. And it’s never easy for them.”
“We’re just friends,” I said, hating the lie.
“It doesn’t matter. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I don’t think you realize how much that boy has gone through for you. He had a hard enough time before this, everybody calling him a queer just because he’d been seen around town with you. But now it’s going to get worse. A lot worse.”
I had no idea what to say. I could continue denying how we felt about each other, but he was right. It didn’t matter. They were going to think it, whether it was true or not. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I just thought you should know. A time might come when Matt has to make a choice. If you care about him—and I think maybe you do—you won’t do anything to make that choice harder on him than it already is.”
Chapter 22
CHERIE’S FUNERAL was a couple of days later. Matt insisted on going together.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I asked him. I hadn’t seen him since he’d rushed out of my house after hearing about her death, and I hadn’t told him about my conversation with Chief White. He just shrugged.
In the movies, it always rains for funerals, but the day of Cherie’s funeral was beautiful. Colorado averages over three hundred days of sunshine per year, and this was one of them. The temperature was in the sixties. Only the bare trees and the dead leaves skittering across the ground gave away the season.
Matt stood with me through the funeral and either didn’t notice or didn’t acknowledge the smirks on the faces of some of his fellow police officers, including Officer Jameson. When it was over, he said, “Let’s go say hello.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Jared.” His voice was calm and reasonable. “Just come over, let me introduce you. Shake hands, and we’ll go.”
“No. You go. I’ll be in the car.”
It annoyed him, but I didn’t care. How could I smile while he introduced me when I had just seen them elbowing each other over my presence at his side?
We drove back to my place in silence. I thought he was mad about my refusal to meet his coworkers, but as I was about to get out, he said suddenly, “It’s my fault she died, isn’t it?”
“It’s not.”
He stared straight out the windshield at the brilliant Colorado sky. “It is. I was dating her, and he was jealous, and he killed her. And the worst part is, I didn’t even care about her. I was using her, being a stupid, selfish bastard, and it got her killed.”
We both knew Dan’s violence toward Cherie had been increasing for years, and I thought it might have ended the same way with or without Matt. But I also couldn’t deny that having Matt as a rival would make any man feel threatened.
“What about Dan? Do you have any idea where he is?”
He seemed to shake off his momentary depression and turned to face me. “No. That bastard never seemed very smart, but he’s managed to avoid us so far.”
He still hadn’t moved to turn off the Jeep, so I gestured toward my house with a nod. “Aren’t you coming in?”
“Not tonight. I have to go. I had to trade a shift to get the morning off for the funeral. I go in at two, I’m off at ten, but then I have to be back in at six tomorrow.”
“Oh.” I tried to sound casual, but I felt like he was avoiding being alone with me. “I’ll see you later, then.”
He must have heard something in my voice, because he grabbed my arm, forcing me to look at him.
“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong.”
“Am I?”
He gave me one of his beautiful smiles and said, “I promise.”
THE NEXT night was Thursday, our last tutoring session before the Thanksgiving break. Only four kids showed up. I ordered pizza again. Between them, they’d managed to come up with about seven dollars, which they handed to me proudly.
At this point, I didn’t have to help them much. It’d become more of a supervised study group, but I was there if they got stuck. I was pretty sure a few of them only came for the social aspect, but I didn’t mind.
We were just getting started when Matt knocked on the door.
“You don’t have to knock, you know,” I told him after I let him in.
He gave me the pseudo-grin. “I’ll remember that.” He glanced into the dining room, at the kids gathered around the table, and scowled. “I forgot it was Thursday.”
“There’s pizza on the way.”
“How long do they stay?” I was surprised by how annoyed he seemed to be.
“They’ll be gone by nine.”
He looked over at them again and then pulled me into the hallway, where we were out of sight. He wrapped one arm around my waist, pulled me against him, and whispered into my hair, “Can’t you make them go home?”
The implications of his questions finally dawned on me, and my body instantly responded. He was holding me tight enough against him that I knew he could feel the effect his words had on me. He moaned a little and backed me against the wall. “Jared, please….”
But just then, the doorbell rang and four teenagers shouted in unison, “Pizza!”
“They have a test tomorrow.”
He kissed my neck, just below my ear, and then let go of me. “This is going to be a long two hours, isn’t it?” But he was smiling as he said it.
He sat in the living room reading while I helped the kids. I wondered if they could tell how distracted I was. Half the time, I was thinking about what we’d be doing once they left. But I hadn’t forgotten the warning Chief White had given me, and I was worried that Matt wasn’t thinking about the consequences of being with me. Then I’d start thinking again about how much I wanted him, and that would make me feel guilty that maybe I wasn’t thinking about the consequences of his actions.
The kids finally started packing up their books, getting ready to leave. Matt saw and headed for the bedroom, winking at me as he passed. I knew I was blushing and had to make sure my shirt hung down far enough to cover any signs of my arousal. Luckily, teenagers are remarkably self-absorbed. They were oblivious. I got them out the door and headed for the bedroom. I couldn’t believe how nervous I was. My heart pounded, my palms sweaty and my stomach in knots. I stopped first to go to the bathroom and brush my teeth. Whether that was stalling or advance planning, I wasn’t sure. Whatever happened, I was determined to let him set the pace. It would be his first time with another man, and I knew there would probably be limits to what he was ready for.
As soon as I walked into the bedroom, he was on me. He kissed me once, urgently, and then he pulled my shirt off and started undoing my pants.
“Matt, are you sure you want to do this?” I had to say it once, now, before the other parts of my body tuned my brain out.
His eyes came up and met mine. “You’re asking me that now?”
“I just want you to be sure.”
His eyes crinkled at me, then he took my face in his hands and said quietly, “I’m sure.”
He kissed me, quick but soft, then pushed me playfully back onto the bed and pulled my pants off. He took off my boxers and lay down on top of me, still fully clothed. I smiled up at him and tugged on his shirt. “This isn’t quite how it works.”
He smiled back. “Shhh.” His hand wandered down my side as he kissed my neck. “I still can’t believe this is happening.” He didn’t sound confused or troubled, just surprised. “I can’t believe how much I want you, Jared.” My name was a quiet whisper aga
inst my skin. His lips were soft and warm, and his chin and cheeks were rough with stubble. He moved down to kiss my stomach, moving slowly toward my hip, alternately kissing and biting gently. His mouth never touched my cock. The fact that he was close enough to feel it along his cheek as he kissed me seemed incredible. He worked his way down the sensitive line where my leg met my pelvis, and then all around my patch of hair, tender kisses, and his warm tongue leaving a small, wet trail that had me panting beneath him.
He moved back up and kissed my lips once, deep and slow and gentle, and then stood up and began to get undressed. I sat up on the side of the bed to watch. I wondered if I’d ever get used to how beautiful his body was—strong and muscular, his skin smooth and tan. Next to him, I felt scrawny and pale.
He must have seen something on my face, because he cocked his head at me and said teasingly, “Now what?”
“I’m suddenly feeling terribly inadequate.”
He smiled down at me. “Are you kidding? Don’t you have any idea what you do to me?”
I smiled back. There was certainly no doubt, now that he was naked, that this was what he wanted. “I can see, actually.”
I grabbed his hips and pulled him closer. I kissed his stomach first, as he had done to me. The trail of hair leading down from his navel was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. I remembered that night in the tent, months before, when I’d been so turned on by the thought of it. Tonight I followed it, first with my fingertips, and then with my lips and tongue. I leaned into that patch of thick jet-black hair at its end. He smelled amazing: musky and masculine and intoxicating.
He made a low moan deep in his chest, almost like a purr, and grabbed a double fistful of my hair. I put my tongue right at the base of his shaft and slowly ran it up his length, all the way to the salty drop at its tip. I teased my tongue over his slit and then closed my lips over his head, just where the ridge was, and sucked hard. His fingers twitched in my hair, and he moaned. I worked my tongue over his slit again, around his rim one more time, and then grabbed his ass with both hands and pulled him toward me so that his cock pushed deep into my mouth. His breath caught, and his hands gripped my head hard, holding me in place for a second, his cock almost gagging me, and my nose buried in his thick hair. I thought he was going to come. But suddenly he pulled away, pushing me back gently at the same time.
I looked up, alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
“Not that way.” He pushed me onto my back and climbed on top of me. “I want something for both of us this time.” He kissed me. It started out tender. His tongue touched mine, and he sucked at my bottom lip. But it quickly grew more urgent, hungrier. One of his hands went into my hair, and he pulled hard, angling my head back so he could get to my neck. I ran my hands over his body—first the soft yet prickly stubble of his military-short hair, then his strong shoulders and arms, down his back, and around to his stomach, which was perfect, hard and ridged with muscle. My fingers found that tantalizing trail of hairs leading down from his navel. I couldn’t stay away from it.
His lips stayed on my neck, licking, kissing, and biting a little. His free hand roamed over my stomach, down my thigh, then between my legs. His fingers felt everywhere, alternately stroking me and exploring until I thought one more touch might be enough to send me over the edge. His erection ground hard against my leg.
I reached into the drawer of the bedside table and found the lube. He pulled back, watching. But when I reached back to apply some to my rim, he frowned, suddenly looking unsure.
“I didn’t mean that,” he said quietly.
“You don’t want to?” I said it as casually as I could. I didn’t want to push him.
“I’m not saying I don’t want to. But will that be for both of us?”
I realized what he was asking—would I enjoy it too?—and kissed him. “Yes. Trust me.”
He relaxed again and went back to my neck. His fingers moved down on my body, past my perineum, gently exploring the area, moving in soft circles around my rim. I wrapped my arms around him and arched into him, moaning. “Oh,” he said in my ear, clearly surprised at my response. “Tell me what to do.”
I’d never really been one for giving orders in bed, but I managed to say, “Harder.”
The pressure increased, and it felt great, but I really wanted more. I pushed against his hand, wanting to feel his fingers inside me. “More, Matt, please,” I whispered. But he tensed a little at that. He shook his head and moved his hand away.
Apparently I’d found the end of his current comfort zone.
“I don’t want to push you,” I said to him. “Tell me what you want.”
“I don’t know!” I almost laughed at his frustration, and I saw my own amusement mirrored back at me in his green-in-gray eyes. “I want you. Jesus, Jared, I’ve never been so turned on in my life, but I just have no idea what to do. I feel like I’m in high school all over again.” He grinned down at me. “At least there’s no stick shift in the way.” I laughed at that.
He kissed me, slowly running his tongue over the roof of my mouth and then over my lips. “Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want.”
I knew exactly what I wanted, but I didn’t want to freak him out. “You can say no.” I hated to sound like bad porn, but he’d asked, right? “I want you to fuck me.”
He groaned. His hands tightened on me, and he nodded.
I pushed him up, took the pillow from behind my head, and put it under my hips. I maneuvered myself into position, still on my back. He watched me, stroking himself slowly. He definitely didn’t look like he was bothered by the idea. He put on the condom I handed him without comment. He came easily back into my arms, kissing me hungrily. But when I started to push against him, trying to initiate penetration, he hesitated.
“Will I hurt you?” he asked, and I was moved by the concern in his eyes.
“No. Just go slow at first.” That seemed like the right thing to say, but I didn’t really expect him to be able to hold back once he started.
I was right.
As soon as my body closed around the head of his shaft, his eyes shut, and he shuddered. With a groan low in his chest, he pushed the rest of the way in, not hard enough to hurt exactly, but I was glad it wasn’t my first time. He froze there, holding his breath. “Oh Jesus, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I arched into him, amazed at how well we seemed to fit together. My orgasm was already much closer than I would have liked.
He held perfectly still, trembling with the effort of it. “Oh my God, that feels incredible.”
“For me too. Jesus, Matt, I need you to move. I can’t hang on much longer.”
“If I move an inch, I’m going to come.”
“I think that’s the point.”
He smiled a little at that and opened his eyes to look down at me. Still, he didn’t budge. I took one of his hands, moved it between us to my cock, and pushed against him. That deep purring sound started again in his chest. And finally, he moved, rocking against me, slow and gentle, his hand working between us. That exhilarating friction and his strong, rough hand around me—it was amazing. I reached up and grabbed the headboard with both hands so I could push back and then closed my eyes and let myself get lost in the sensation. It only took a few strokes for me. As soon as my muscles clenched around him, he grabbed me and slammed in hard one last time with a cry that was as much surprise as anything else.
For a minute he stayed there, still inside me, feeling my body spasm around him. Then he pulled out and collapsed on top of me, dead weight. For a fraction of a second, I thought he’d fainted, but then I heard him whisper, “Oh God. Jared. Wow. Jesus.”
I turned my chin, kissed his ear, and then managed to gasp out, “You’re heavy. I can’t breathe.”
“Sorry.”
I pushed hard, and he rolled lazily off of me and lay spread-eagle on his back. “Wow.”
I laughed and made my way on wobbly legs to the bathroom. I cleaned up and brought the towel back in
to him. He still hadn’t moved. He looked astounded, blinking at the ceiling as I wiped him off.
“Can we do that again?” He sounded so earnest that I had to laugh.
“What, already?”
“God, no. I mean, once I can move again.”
“When do you think that will be?”
“Maybe by Monday.”
I laughed and lay down on my back next to him but with my head on his shoulder. “I’ll give you ’til morning.”
“I didn’t realize it would feel so different.”
“Does it? I wouldn’t know.”
“It was….” He was obviously struggling for a word but settled on, “Intense.”
“‘Intense’ in a good way?”
“In a very good way.”
I laughed again. “I’m glad you approve.”
“And it’s good—? I mean, when, um. You know, the other…?”
“Are you asking me if it really is good to be on the receiving end?”
“Yes.” Obviously relieved that he didn’t have to elaborate more.
“It can be, yes. It was just now.” I shivered a little, remembering. “Are you worried about it?”
“A little. Well.” He laughed nervously. “More than a little, to be honest. But I trust you.”
“There’s no hurry.” But now the rational side of my brain was starting to make noise again. “Matt, are you sure this is what you want?”
“Why are you asking that now? Isn’t it what you want?” He sounded mostly amused but also a tiny bit exasperated.
“You know it is.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
So I told him about my conversation with Chief White. But when I was done, he just shrugged. I couldn’t see it, but felt his shoulder move under my head.
“You’re not worried? A few days ago, you didn’t want them to know.”
“I know. But I realized something. They all assume we’re lovers anyway—that’s what they’ve thought for months now. You have no idea how many times since your birthday they’ve teased me about our ‘lovers’ quarrel.’ The fact that I was here the other night only reinforced it. The only way to make them not think it would be to never see you again. And that’s not an option. So if they already assume it’s true, and I want it to be true, and you want it to be true—well, I guess I just couldn’t see any reason anymore why it shouldn’t be true.”