When the Devil Wants In

by Cate Ashwood

  John caught Matt’s groan against the kiss, and just like that—as if Matt had made a decision for both of them—he fisted his fingers into John’s hair, dominating the kiss as he pushed away from the door. John’s stomach tightened, blood singing through his veins as Matt walked them clumsily across the small room.

  Maybe John made a sound, or maybe there was simply something in his expression when the backs of his knees hit the bed and he sat down, but whatever it was, it made Matt smile, his full lips curling at the edges, a wild glint in his dark brown eyes as he asked, “You like that too?”

  Hell yes, he did. It wasn’t often John would let himself be pushed around or manhandled by someone, but when Matt took charge, it didn’t feel like a power play or ego—it felt like he just couldn’t help himself. As if the need was too strong, too deep in his bones. “I’ll let ya know how much I like it when we’re through.”

  He watched as Matt stripped off his shirt with one hand, at the same time kicking away his shorts and flip-flops. John didn’t get much time to admire the view. Within a heartbeat, Matt leaned over and tugged John’s jeans open. “I’ll look forward to your full review,” Matt said as he yanked John’s jeans and boxers down to his thighs.

  “I’ll post it on Yelp,” John said, but the small laugh that went with the words died suddenly, burned up in the back of his throat as Matt dropped to his knees. Without warning or preamble, he took John’s cock into his mouth, all the way down, as if he did it every day, all day. He sucked John’s cock like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

  John lifted his head to watch for a long moment, ran one hand through Matt’s short, dark hair as Matt slid his tongue in a long line up John’s erection, swirling the crown, before sucking him in again.

  “Goddamn,” John muttered as he spread his legs as wide as he could. “Five stars, easy,” he added. The joke faded, though, because Matt slipped his hand between John’s legs and cupped his balls as he took John’s cock to the back of his throat again. John hissed another curse, and then he was lost for words, only managing a few harsh moans as he resisted the urge to thrust his hips. He let his head drop back against the mattress, caught in the sensations of wet heat and Matt’s eager, strong tongue.

  When Matt pulled back, John snapped his eyes open. The disappointed sound he let out was completely beyond his control because all he wanted out of life in that moment was to come in Matt’s mouth. He hadn’t meant to glare when he looked at Matt, but his eyes narrowed nonetheless.

  Matt swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and smiled almost bashfully. “Was just wondering if you have any condoms? Lube? I hadn’t exactly planned on this, left my gear at home.”

  John’s whimper got a small laugh out of Matt.

  “In my back pocket,” John said, sitting up and shoving his pants and shorts the rest of the way down. He realized that he still had his shoes on, so he kicked everything off altogether and left it in a heap on the floor.

  Matt dug inside one pocket and then the other before he found what they needed. “Only two?” he asked, arching his brow at John.

  “There’s more in my truck, in the roadside emergency kit.”

  Matt snorted a laugh but shifted from the floor, climbing up over John, pushing him back at the same time. “Guess we better make these two count.”

  “Guess so,” John murmured, shuddering at the feel of Matt’s body pressed against his own, their legs tangling together, Matt’s breath hot and sweet on John’s shoulder. Since the first second he’d noticed Matt, John had wanted to be inside him, wanted to fuck him until he cried out, came hard. But now, with Matt over him, Matt’s body so strong and solid, John found himself drawing his knees back. He ran one foot down the back of Matt’s thigh and whispered, “You should probably get on it, then.”

  Pulling back, Matt caught John’s eye, a brief moment of connection that felt out of place, almost tender, almost knowing. Something more than just a quick fuck on a dark night in a faraway town. “Probably,” Matt whispered in agreement, the word sounding like a promise. Like the whole universe was listening.

  When Matt leaned in to kiss John again, John lost his nerve, feeling overwhelmed, too exposed. He lifted his head and pressed his mouth to Matt’s neck instead. Matt seemed to notice, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t change his course. He simply muttered a curse and tore open a packet of lube with his teeth.

  Matt didn’t take long with the prep, because he was too impatient or because he wanted to make it a little rougher, John didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. He’d wanted it a little rougher anyway. He wanted Matt to scorch away that glimpse he saw a moment earlier, that scary, ravaging thing that made him think for a moment that maybe—just maybe—he should throw everything away and start over, try for another piece of real in his life.

  John felt the cool lube, the latex at his entrance as Matt teased him with the head of his cock, pushing in slowly, pulling back, sliding in a long line against John, and then pushing in again. As if he were playing, testing the waters.

  “Did you forget how this works?” John asked, trying to joke despite his mounting frustration.

  He could tell Matt was trying to bite back a laugh. “Just thought I’d see how long you could take it like this.”

  “Not very,” John ground out, rocking his hips, pressing down against the feel of Matt’s cock, wishing he could just draw the fucker in.

  Matt caught his eye again. John wanted to look away, but he didn’t. He let Matt hold his gaze for one long beat as Matt slid his cock in, pushed past that tight ring of muscle, and stilled completely. “You should probably kiss me again, then.”

  John could feel the beads of sweat rising on his brow, his skin getting slick with the heat of their bodies, with the relentless torture from Matt. He knew he could push the guy off, tell him to get the fuck out, jerk off in the shower and head home, or find someone else to take care of things for him. But he didn’t. He wanted Matt. He wanted to know what it was like to have Matt’s cock buried deep inside, what it was like to have Matt touch him everywhere, feel himself come all over Matt’s stomach.

  Damn it all to hell.

  “You’re a dick,” he said roughly before reaching behind Matt’s head and pulling him in hard. No tenderness now, no longing for a better time or a better place, a better life. John kissed him like he wanted to tear him to pieces, like he could unleash all his anger and frustration, his loneliness, and give it to Matt, let him ache with the weight of it. Let it choke him, sit in his belly like a lead weight.

  He still had his tongue shoved in Matt’s mouth when Matt pushed in, hard and deep—exactly like John had wanted. The burn, the stretch, felt almost devastating, but it blotted out everything else. He groaned against the kiss, let his breath out sharply as he bit down on Matt’s lip before dropping his head back against the bed.

  Matt thrust in again, not bothering with a rhythm yet, just a shockingly strong drive from his hips. Once. Twice. Three times. “That what you wanted?”

  “Yeah,” John growled, running his hand down Matt’s back, down to his ass, digging his fingers in against the strong muscles. “You?”

  With another demanding thrust, Matt said, “Close enough.” He shifted, hooked his arms under John’s legs and pushed until John’s knees were nearly at his ears. It was graceless and rough, but it got the job done. The angle was just right now. John gasped, Matt’s cock dragging over his gland, setting off sparks inside John’s body. Matt dipped his head down again but didn’t kiss John this time. Instead he pressed their foreheads together and fell into a steady tempo.

  John rocked his hips to meet each thrust while he touched Matt everywhere he could reach. Chest, shoulders, neck, hair. He skimmed his hands down Matt’s sides, felt every twitch of every muscle, his damp skin. He could even feel Matt’s heartbeat behind his rib cage, a steady tattoo full of life, excitement.

  Matt dipped his head and caught John’s mouth in another kiss. Taken off guard, John couldn�
��t do anything when Matt slowed his pace a notch. He let one of John’s legs free so he could tangle his fingers in John’s hair as he slid his tongue past John’s lips.

  Fuck his entire life, John opened up for him, breathed in deep, and closed his eyes. Because, yeah, he wanted that kiss too.

  Matt moaned softly into John’s mouth and slid his hand between them. He took hold of John’s cock, loose at first, let John slide through the circle of Matt’s fingers. Then, suddenly, Matt found his rhythm again, fast, aggressive, needy. He tightened his fist and stroked John with every powerful thrust. “You better come for me soon,” Matt whispered as he drew back for a better position, their sounds getting lost in a haze between them, suspended on the cooled air in the room.

  John tried to close his eyes again, tried not to look at Matt’s face in the harsh motel room light, but he couldn’t tear away from the sight of him. Matt’s furrowed brow, his tense jaw. Without even realizing how close he’d gotten, John let out a sharp cry, his hips bucking against each of Matt’s strokes until he came, hot and wet, between them.

  “Jesus,” Matt muttered, as if he hadn’t meant to say anything. Within seconds, though, he tensed, his fingers still holding John’s cock as he drove in deep one last time and shuddered so hard even John could feel it.

  He collapsed on top of John, not seeming to mind the sticky heat between them, the sweat and the come. John didn’t mind either, not really. He liked the press of Matt’s body, the weight. There was something almost comforting about it.

  Their bodies cooled in the chill from the air conditioner in the corner, each of them catching their breath. John drew his fingertips up and down Matt’s spine, making lazy patterns as he pressed the side of his head against Matt’s.

  “Still five stars?” Matt asked, teasing, playful. As if they weren’t two complete strangers who had just exchanged bodily fluids.

  Well, nearly exchanged. Thank you, Trojan.

  “More if you get off me,” John said, trying not to laugh as he gave Matt a small shove. He was too damn comfortable in Matt’s company.

  Matt pulled out slowly, and John let out a breath. When Matt shifted and looked around for the trash can on the other side of the bed, John sat up. This was his chance to get out of there, away from those teasing brown eyes, away from the ideas he had in his head. Away from Matt.

  He leaned over and grabbed his shorts and jeans, tugged them on, and didn’t even bother to find his socks before pulling his shoes on. Hell, he didn’t even bother to button his jeans. He had his back to Matt as he looked for his shirt, but he turned to face him when Matt said, “Taking off?”

  “Yeah, sorry,” John answered, his voice muffled as he pulled his shirt on over his head. “I gotta get.” He stepped closer to the bed again. “Got a long drive tonight and an early start tomorrow.” Then he did something he’d probably curse himself for all the way home. He leaned down and found Matt’s mouth again, kissed him long and slow. “Had a good time tonight. Feel free to stay here and shower or whatever before you head out.”

  Something flashed across Matt’s face, not quite hurt, not anger, maybe disappointment, though. He said, “Guess we’ll save this one for another time, then?” He held up the last condom with what was maybe a tired smile.

  “Yeah,” John said, trying to keep the regret from his voice, trying to keep from changing his mind. “Another time.”

  He let the door fall shut behind him and lit a cigarette. The sounds of traffic had died down a bit since they’d walked over from the bar a lifetime ago. John looked out across the parking lot to the place where Matt had waited for him. He decided to go around the block, the long way to his truck, just to clear his head before driving home.

  Chapter Four

  MATT STOOD in the center of the room, his hands on his hips, looking around and wondering what the hell just happened.

  Of course, this hadn’t been his first random hookup—living in San Francisco, it had been difficult to swing a dick in some parts of the city without hitting at least one willing guy looking for something casual. Matt had taken advantage of the convenience on more than one occasion, but it had never gone quite like what he’d just shared with John.

  Matt looked around, feeling suddenly awkward to be standing in the middle of a scuzzy motel room, his clothes crumpled in a heap beside the bed. How did he even get here? All he’d wanted to do was get out of his house for a while, and he’d ended up an hour and a half away with come drying on his belly.

  John’s dismissive words echoed in his head. Feel free to stay.

  He had no intention of staying. He needed to get out of there before the bleakness of the room tainted the memory he had of John. That was something Matt knew he’d be summoning up in his head for a long time—the feeling of John pressed beneath him, the carnal way he responded to Matt’s touches, like he’d waited his whole life to have Matt’s hands on him. And Jesus Christ, the sounds John made when he came… those would be etched in Matt’s mind, probably forever.

  Matt dressed quickly, not bothering to shower. He could wait until he was back in Magnolia Ridge, in his own undersized bathroom. A small part of him wanted to keep the scent of sex and John on him for a little while longer, as though that might make what they’d done seem less… hollow.

  His truck was still back at the club. He set out walking, pulling the motel door closed behind him. They hadn’t been inside all that long, maybe an hour in total, but the night seemed darker somehow. Matt looked up to see the sky that had been clear and bright was now hidden behind a veil of thick clouds. He crossed the street, and as he did, he found his eyes scanning the darkness for John.

  He wasn’t there.

  Matt needed to get home, and while he was at it, maybe he could get a fucking grip too. It had been a long time since he’d been with anyone, but a quick fuck in a seedy motel and he was already getting melodramatic. The heat was getting to his head. Sleep. He needed sleep.

  Matt spotted his truck as the parking lot came into view, but as he approached, his gaze lifted and he caught a glimpse of a mildly familiar face—the guy he’d been talking to when he first got in the bar. Guilt nicked his conscience. Matt didn’t even remember the guy’s name. In fact, he hadn’t given blowing him off a second thought when he’d spotted John. The guy looked over at Matt with an expression of moderate irritation as he climbed into a shiny pickup with huge tires and a lift kit.

  Pushing the thoughts of the irritated stranger from his head, Matt unlocked his truck and climbed in, then started the engine and pulled out onto the street. It was a long drive home, just him, the radio, and memories of the way John tasted.

  HE NEEDED a second before going in. His heart hammered, body already buzzing with thoughts of what lay ahead. It had been two months since he’d put in his notice with the SFPD, and a month since he’d last donned the uniform. He hadn’t realized how empty he’d feel without it. Being a police officer was a huge part of his identity, and it felt like an eternity since he’d connected with that part of himself.

  He was more than ready for this, but being the newbie at any station could be a challenge. His first week at the SFPD had been hellish thanks to a senior officer who believed it was his sworn duty to make the rookies suffer.

  This was a different situation. He knew that. Matt had a few years’ experience under his belt now, and moving from a big-city police force to a small-town operation meant he’d likely seen more shit than even the most experienced officers there. Still, there were assholes everywhere, and Matt was expecting there’d be at least one motherfucker who figured he’d show Matt who was boss.

  It didn’t matter. He cut the engine and hopped out. Nothing could destroy his good mood. Although he’d enjoyed his road trip to Georgia—he’d spent nearly a week touring the lower half of the country—he’d had every intention of taking the last few days to explore his new home and relax a little. What had happened instead was a whole lot of restless nights and twitchy days, culminating in a lon
g drive to another state for a one-night-stand he hadn’t been able to get out of his head.

  Starting his new job would be just the thing to get his mind back on track.

  He pulled the front door open and stepped through before the heat had him sweating through his T-shirt. The cold air hit him like a wall. He took a moment to look around while the officer at the desk spoke with someone on the phone. The front room was much like what he was used to—a window the officer on duty could sit behind, several chairs for people to wait, with furniture and décor manufactured to give the impression of comfort.

  “Morning,” Matt said, stepping forward once the officer had hung up the phone. He smiled broadly when she looked up at him. Maybe it wasn’t very smooth of him, but he was so fucking excited to start the job, he didn’t give a shit how overeager he appeared. He was ready to slip back into service. He’d spent enough time fucking around. Time to get back in uniform.

  “Mornin’. What can I do for ya?”

  “I’m Matt Kinsley. I’m supposed to be starting here today.”

  “ANYONE WANT coffee?” Cathy asked, standing up from her desk.

  Matt shook his head. “None for me, thanks.”

  In his two weeks at the precinct, Matt had learned three things. Don’t drink the coffee on Fridays; Landon makes it and Matt’d be better off drinking gutter water. Pie’s half-off for cops in uniform at Millie’s after 8:00 p.m., and Bryce’s wife just left him for Scott. The captain moved them to different shifts, but if he ever got caught in a room with the two of them, he needed to make a hasty exit.

  “Andy? Coffee?”

  Matt’s new partner looked up from his computer screen. “Do I look like I have a death wish?”