by Lisa Worrall
Will huffed out a joyless laugh. "It would make me feel a whole lot fucking better." He ran a shaking hand through his blond hair. "How?" The word was spat from his lips. "How could he do that? He's supposed to make Todd feel safe, loved, cherished. Not violate him, and make him," he waved at the screen, "make him. How the fuck does someone do that to the person he's supposed to love?"
"I don't know." Scott leaned his head back against the cushions and put both his hands over his face. "What he said to me earlier makes a hell of a lot more sense now."
Will slammed down the lid on the laptop as the screen was filled with an image of Todd, face down on the bed, all life gone from his eyes as his own hands held his ass cheeks apart. Obviously being given instructions by Marcus so he could take the picture. Fucking bastard! He turned to face Scott. "What do you mean what he said to you earlier?"
Scott grabbed the beer from the coffee table and opened it, taking a low draw before answering. "He offered himself to me as payment for fixing his laptop. He said Marcus had suggested that I should get a little something for my trouble. And he said if I didn't like him, you could have him."
Will shook his head slowly in disbelief. "Guess you really can't go on first impressions, can you? I would have pegged Marcus as one of the good guys. Brent is definitely a sleaze, but at least he doesn't try to hide it behind a smooth veneer."
"I think you've made your feelings about Brent perfectly clear," Scott mumbled sarcastically.
Will ignored the remark and continued. "I guess that would explain why Todd clings to Marcus like he's a life preserver. They always say that for some bizarre reason you gravitate toward your abuser, trying desperately to make them happy so they don't do it again." He sighed heavily. "What do we do now?"
"We make a copy and send it to Grace and Julie. See if they can get anything off the pictures." He groaned and slipped a blank disc into the drive, transferring the pictures. "How am I supposed to listen to him sing now? Now that I've seen these?"
"We don't have a choice," Will murmured, standing up. "We're supposed to be at the club for seven thirty. Todd goes on at eight. I don't know about you, but I don't really have the stomach for Laurel Heights right now. I need a drink."
Scott nodded in agreement and raised a questioning eyebrow at Will. "Shall we go into town early and get some dinner first? I can order a cab for five o'clock and we can go find a restaurant. I don't think too much alcohol is a good idea, though. I don't want you going all Dirty Harry on Marcus's ass. It wouldn't look good to Hall if I have to arrest you, now would it?"
Will scoffed, appreciating Scott's attempt to try to lighten the moment. "I'm too well dressed to be Dirty Harry. I see myself more as the McGarrett to your Danno. I'm the strong silent type, while you're the short one that gets to do all the grunt work."
"Ouch, my sides are hurting."
Chuckling to himself, Will picked up his sandwich, which he suddenly had no appetite for and padded back to the kitchen to toss it into the trash. Running some warm water, he rinsed the plate, dried it, and then put it back in the cupboard. He leaned against the sink and closed his eyes as the images he had seen on the screen replayed behind his lids. More disturbing was the sense memory of Scott writhing beneath him, full lips parted, navy gaze darkened to almost black in his desire.
Scott followed Will and the waitress to their table. He'd been unsurprised when they'd ended up at BLT Steak on Main Street. He wouldn't have expected anything less from Will 'Just wipe its ass and stick it on the plate' Harrison.
The young woman led them to a table by the window and took their drinks order once they were seated. Scott scanned the room, taking in the brown and leather décor and the long yellow dinette seating that took up one wall, brown suede cushions laid on the plastic for people to sit against. Although it looked very modern and effective, Scott was rather glad they had a table with two leather backed chairs at it. He didn't think the restaurant's version of a booth would suit someone of his stature, even less someone of Will's.
Taking the menu that Will held out to him, Scott scanned the contents and glanced across the table at his partner. "Are we getting starters, or just going straight for the main?"
Will shrugged and studied his own menu. "I'm hungry enough to just go straight to the meat," he drawled, jabbing his finger at a picture of a huge porterhouse steak. "I'm having that!"
Scott snorted and shook his head at the childlike glee on Will's face. "What a shocker. Are you going to let them actually shoot the thing before they put it on your plate, or do you still want it to be mooing?" Scott smiled up at the waitress as she put two bottles of Corona on the table. "Do you have anything that's rarer than rare?"
"Um… raw?" The pretty young woman raised her eyebrows and glanced at Will. "I'm guessing you like it bloody, sir."
"Ignore my uncultured friend," Will replied, glancing back down at the menu. "I'm ready to order. Scott?"
"I'll have the rack of lamb," Scott replied, handing the menu to the waitress. "With mashed potatoes and green beans, please."
Scribbling down his order on her notepad, she turned her attention to Will. "And for you, sir?"
"I'll have the Porterhouse, please. Mashed potatoes, onion rings, green beans, and," Will tapped his chin as he scanned the menu one more time, "a mixed salad."
"And I'm assuming you want your steak rare?" She grinned at Will as he nodded his head and handed her the menu. "It won't be too long, gentleman. Would you like any more drinks?"
Will lifted his bottle to his lips and downed it in four large swallows. Handing the bottle to the rather stunned young woman, he nodded. "Two more, thanks."
"Easy there, cowboy," Scott said, watching Will from beneath lowered lashes. "I ain't carrying your heavy ass into a cab." He didn't like the way Will was already knocking back the beer. He was just as upset as Will about their findings today, but they had to remain professional. They couldn't let their personal feelings damage the case.
"You don't like me very much, do you?"
The tone of Will's voice was tinged with something… regret? Scott gazed across the table at him and was unable to stop his biting response. "You've had my dick in your hand. I think it's safe to say I don't exactly hate you." A flush immediately filled Will's cheeks at his remark and he wished he could take the words back. Heaving a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. I get sarcastic when I'm nervous."
Their waitress reappeared with two more beers and set them down, tossing them a brief smile as she hurried off to another table. "So," Scott began when they were alone again. "What do you want to talk about?" He rolled his eyes at Will's shrug. "Why don't you tell me about yourself? Apart from the obvious, like you were seconded eight months ago, and you have a girlfriend named Amanda. I guess I don't know that much about you."
"Wow," Will drawled, putting the second bottle of beer to his lips. "That's the first time you've ever asked anything about me."
"I don't remember you bombarding me with questions either," Scott replied, picking up one of the bread rolls from the basket in the middle of the table and tearing off a piece. He took his knife and buttered the piece in his hand and popped it into his mouth, savoring the creaminess of the butter and the softness of the fresh bread. Chasing the crumbs on his lower lip with the tip of his tongue, he glanced up and felt the sharp stab of desire warm his belly as Will's gaze followed the movement. The knife he was holding slipped from his suddenly numb fingers and clattered onto the side plate, causing Will to blink and look away.
Will cleared his throat and took another sip of his beer before answering. "You're not exactly a closed book, Scott."
Raising an eyebrow, Scott tore off another piece of bread and popped it, unbuttered this time, into his mouth. "Oh, really? I tell you what—" He paused as the waitress approached the table with two plates laden with food. Smiling up at her as she placed the rack of lamb and assorted vegetables in front of him, then chuckled out loud at the sheer
size of the steak she put in front of Will. When the waitress had wished them bon appétit and had resumed her duties elsewhere, Scott cut into his rack of lamb and continued where he had left off. "You tell me what you think you know about me, and I'll tell you what I think I know about you."
"All right." Will cut himself off a good-sized chunk of almost blood red steak and chewed thoughtfully, picking up his beer and washing it down. "You have an ego the size of the Grand Canyon. You think you've seen everything, done everything. You waltz into the office most days with a hangover and ribald stories about your latest conquest, causing most of the girls in admin to snivel because it wasn't them." He grinned widely. "How am I doing?"
"Nice," Scott replied, waving his fork in a circular motion. "Keep going."
"You have little respect for the rule book. Spend far too much time in front of the mirror and you're probably banging Cassidy." He chuckled at the look on Scott's face. "But," Will conceded grudgingly. "I've seen you harangue a three-hundred-pound man into confessing, without giving an inch. Then watched you comfort the family of a victim with more compassion than I would ever have thought you could summon up." He took another swig of beer. "In short, you irritate me like no one I've ever come across. But you are one of the best cops I've ever worked with." Will scooped up some mashed potato and forked it into his mouth. "And you're a fantastic kisser." He chuckled heartily when Scott snorted beer through his nose at that last remark.
Scott wiped his nose on his napkin, grateful that he hadn't dribbled the beer down his dress shirt and narrowed his eyes. "Okay," he dragged out the word, his gaze roaming over Will's face, taking in every detail. "You walked into the department, with your breezy attitude and your big cheesy grin and I knew I was going to want to kill you inside of ten minutes. I was wrong."
"You were?"
"Yeah," Scott smiled, mixing his green beans with his potato. "It was more like five. You're so likeable, Will. With your stories of home, the little white picket fence, and the girlfriend. I don't know, maybe that's why you irritate the fuck out of me. You have everything sewn up."
"How do you mean?"
"You're good at your job. You're well liked and respected by your peers, and at the end of the day you have someone to go home to. Isn't that what everyone wants?" Scott leaned back in his chair and sipped at his beer. "I admit I thought you were so anal that you squeaked when you walked—but I remember the day I saw a different side of you, one who was willing to throw away the rule book at a moment's notice. Do you remember the day the four of us were on our way back to the station, and we got cut off by the fire trucks blocking the road because of that pile up? The one with the little girl stuck in the back seat of the crushed car?" He waited for Will's affirmation before continuing.
"As soon as they told us what the holdup was, you… you didn't hesitate, man. You just got right out of the car, waving your badge at anyone who wouldn't let you through. You crawled into the back of that car as far as you could get and held her little hand. What was she, about eight?" Another nod. "I don't think I've ever told you how impressive you were, Will. The way you talked to her about anything and everything you could think of, taking her mind off what the FD guys were doing. She was in so much pain, not to mention scared out of her mind. Hell, so was I.
"I remember the guys kept trying to get you out, but you wouldn't leave her. She was hanging on by the skin of her teeth and you kept her calm so they could do their stuff and get her out. Hell, I'd have just gone in all guns blazing, yelling and barking orders, but you… all you could think about was her.
"You're a good cop, Will, and a good man." He dropped him a wink. "But you're nowhere near as good a kisser as I am." Will guffawed loudly at that and Scott joined in, their laughter drawing the attention of other diners.
Will pushed his plate away and brushed a hand across his eyes. "I guess you really can't go by first impressions, can you?" Avoiding Scott's gaze, he picked up the dessert menu. "What are you having?"
Scott rubbed a hand over his stomach and shook his head. "I don't think I have any room for dessert. And I'm surprised you have any either," he said, raising his eyebrows and looking down at Will's empty plate. "You've just eaten half a dead cow." He sighed at the pout on the other man's face. "Seriously? Is that supposed to work on me? 'Cause it's not." Yeah, right. You have not gone all weak in the knees and gooey over that tempting bottom lip? The lip was forced out even more and Scott snorted inelegantly when Will batted his eyelashes. He swallowed as he hardened in his pants, images of what he'd like to do to those lips bouncing around his mind. "Oh, for God's sake, don't look at me like that," he complained, grabbing the dessert menu. "We'll order dessert."
"Yay," Will said, bouncing up and down in his chair. "I want the chocolate cheesecake, with the chocolate sauce, and the chocolate curls."
Scott couldn't help but smile at Will's enthusiasm and rolled his eyes in apology at the waitress as she began to clear their plates. "You'll have to excuse his drooling, but I think he's ready for dessert."
She laughed heartily. "Don't worry, sir. Most people have that reaction to the chocolate cheesecake. Shall I put you down for two slices?"
Scott shook his head and handed her the menu. "Just one. I'm watching my figure."
The two of them sat in what passed for almost companionable silence for the next ten minutes, until the waitress brought Will's dessert over to the table and set the plate down in front of him. With a bright "Enjoy" the woman walked away and Scott glanced over at Will. He suppressed a giggle at the expression on the other man's face. Will was staring down at the cheesecake in front of him, with a reverent look in his eyes and Scott couldn't help but tease, "You want me to leave you two alone?"
"Huh?" Will's slightly glassy gaze met Scott's.
"I feel a little awkward; you two are obviously having a moment here."
"Very funny," Will drawled, picking up his dessert fork and waving it at Scott. "Were you born in a barn? Don't you know that with cheesecake, especially chocolate cheesecake, anticipation is all part of the experience?"
"It's cake, doofus. You eat it."
"Pay attention, Grasshopper," Will said in a ridiculous impression of a Chinese accent. "You will learn much from me."
"There's something seriously wrong with you," Scott mumbled, picking up his beer and taking a healthy swig. The ice-cold liquid slipped down his throat like nectar, fizzing into his bloodstream. He leaned back in his chair and yawned, as though watching Will fawn over his cheesecake had no effect on him whatsoever. Oh, come on. Why is he doing this to me? Scott tried to ignore the way Will broke off a forkful of cheesecake and followed the path with appreciative eyes, between his plate and his mouth. Jesus! The moment Will's lips closed around the dessert and pulled it into his mouth, Scott was fucked. Will emitted an erotic moan that had Scott going from zero to sixty in three seconds flat. The way the other man licked at the chocolate sauce that dripped down his chin was sinful, and Scott couldn't help but imagine what that tongue would look like licking at the come dripping down his shaft. For God's sake, Turner. Pull yourself together, man! He shifted in his seat, trying to discreetly adjust his now painfully hard cock without touching it. Concerned that even the ghosting of his fingers across his erection would have him exploding in his pants like a teenager. Fucking asshole is doing it on purpose!
"Come on, Harrison. Todd's going to be on soon and we have a half an hour cab ride into the city."
"What?" Will looked up from his dessert, his expression confused. "You can't rush this, you know."
Clearing his throat, Scott pulled his wallet out of his pocket and threw some bills down on the table. He had a feeling his waitress was going to be very happy about her tip. "Just shovel it in for God's sake. We're working a case, not pandering to your sweet tooth. I'll go get a cab."
Scott grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and quickly shrugged into it, ignoring his partner's questioning gaze. Turning on his heels, he strode from the resta
urant. Once outside, he breathed in the cool night air as he waited for Will. His heart was racing, and his nerves endings were on fire. He was unable to believe that Will had got him so hard just from eating a piece of cake. This shit was ridiculous. Scott shook his head to clear it of thoughts that bounced around his head. Thoughts of skipping the club and bundling Will into a cab and taking him home—of laying him out on the mattress, all honey-toned skin and muscles rippling beneath him. Of exploring acres of skin with his tongue. Of—
"Are you okay?"
Will's concerned tone had Scott closing his eyes as the sound washed over him. Scott knew from experience that The Rose had a back room and, if he had the chance to get away from Will, he was going to visit it. He needed release. Needed to find comfort any way he could, and try to forget whose arms he really wanted to be in.
Scott lifted his hand and waved down a passing cab, pulling his jacket closer around his body as the car stopped at the curb. "I'm fine, let's go."
Ignoring the glares and heartfelt complaints that were thrown at them from the men in the line, Scott and Will waited while the bouncer checked their names on the VIP list and lifted the velvet rope from across the doorway. "Go on in, gentlemen," he said brightly. "Mr Miller and his group are expecting you. They're in the VIP booth at the back of the club." He guided them in through the doors and motioned to the girl seated behind the glass petition of the reception desk. "Polly, these gentlemen are in Mr Miller's party."
Scott and Will flashed smiles in response to the wink the beautiful redhead dropped them and as she raised her hand in acknowledgement and waved them toward the heavy black curtain.
The Rose was one of the top clubs in New York and, although Scott had been there before, he let Will lead the way. Pushing through the curtain, they walked along a low-lit corridor that opened out onto the main room of the club. The dance floor was the size of a large gym; the walls lined with comfortable booths for the patrons to relax in during breaks from the dance floor. The DJ's stage at one end of the room was immense, with two large cages containing scantily clad young men, gyrating to the music. Curving staircases stood at the four corners of the room, lights built into the handrails and steps, guiding the way to the upper level where more private booths were situated. The rule of the house being that you could get to know each other in the private booths and partake in some heavy petting—but for anything more than that, you headed to the back room. Even though it wasn't quite eight o'clock yet, the floor was already covered with writhing bodies pressed up close, the scent of lust in the air, as the bass beat in time with the dancers racing hearts.