by Pandora Pine
“Hold on a second. I’ll grab towels.” Riordan went back to the linen closet for more towels. He heard the water shut off in the shower and the door open. “I’ll take Isla.” He set Faulk’s towel over the top of the shower stall and reached for his daughter with both hands. She was cold as ice too. “Okay, honey, let’s get you warmed up. Thanks, Faulk.” Riordan nodded.
“I was hoping tonight would end with a shower. I didn’t think it would be like this.” Faulk grinned as he wrapped himself in the fluffy towel.
“Me either.” Riordan pressed a kiss to the top of Isla’s head as he carried her into the bedroom. Say one thing about Faulkner Hayes, aside from being Adonis in the flesh, the man was good in a crisis.
14
Faulkner
Faulk never thought he was going to be warm again. After getting out of the shower, he got dressed in his regular clothes while his underpants were in the dryer. He sat in a rocking chair in Macy’s room with a cup of tea Riordan was kind enough to make him. It wasn’t helping him warm up.
Thankfully the toddler was sleeping. Every so often, he’d get up from his seat and check to make sure her skin was still cool. From what he’d seen earlier, it had looked like she’d thrown up all she had in her, but when those bugs got revved up, sometimes you dry heaved even when there was nothing left in you. That’s usually when the party got started in the back. Faulk was praying Macy could avoid that. Throwing and going, his mother used to call it. He witnessed the throwing. The last thing he wanted to see was the going.
“Hey, how are things in here?” Riordan poked his head in the door.
“She’s still sleeping. How’s Isla?” Faulk asked in return.
“Same.” Riordan took a seat on the carpet next to Faulk’s chair.
“How are you? Any signs of queasiness?” Faulk reached out to touch Riordan’s forehead. He felt cool to the touch.
“No, I’m good. Just worried about the girls.” The worry showed in his eyes and the grim set of his jaw.
“Me too,” Faulk agreed. “They’re so small. I hate to see them going through something like this.”
“Do you think we should try to get some rest ourselves?”
Faulk nodded. “You should. I’ll sit here in case one of them wakes up, so I can be ready to leap into action.”
“No way, Superman. I’ve got the baby monitor in here. The receiver is in my room. If anything happens with Macy, we’ll hear it. Then you can jump up and rush to the rescue.” Riordan stood. “Come on. I’ll sleep better if I know we’re all trying to rest.” He held out his hand.
“Okay,” Faulk reluctantly agreed. He wasn’t totally on board with the plan, but there was nothing stopping him from getting up and coming back in here to stand watch when Riordan was asleep. He just didn’t want to leave Macy alone when she was this sick. He got up from his seat, taking Riordan’s hand. They peeked in on Isla before heading into the master bedroom.
“I left you a pair of sweats in the bathroom. I’m smaller than you, but they should be big enough for the night.”
Nodding, Faulk headed into the bathroom to change. While he’d been sitting with Macy, he’d been trying to calm himself down. When he’d come into this room earlier tonight and seen how sick both girls had been, he’d been scared, but his police training had taken over. He’d managed the crisis and then gave himself time to fall apart in private after the worst of it was over.
“You were amazing tonight,” Riordan said when Faulk walked back into the bedroom.
Faulk wasn’t sure how he felt about those words. “I’ve seen a lot worse situations in my time on the BPD. Had a couple of close calls where I actually heard a bullet whiz past my head, but tonight was awful.” Faulk sat down on the bed, facing Riordan. “I can deal with things that happen to me, but watching helplessly while those two little girls were sick like that, Christ, that was scary.”
Riordan smiled at him. “Love will do that to you.” He wore a knowing smile. “You were so good with Macy. You being calm kept her calm. I can’t thank you enough for all of your help, especially since it came at the expense of our date.”
“Our date was the last thing on my mind.” Faulk snorted. “Wait, that came out wrong.”
“I knew what you meant.” Riordan laughed. “That was one of my biggest worries about dating again. Would the man I picked love my girls as much as Stephen did? For me it’s a must-have. It’s one of the reasons I agreed to go out with you in the first place, Faulk. It’s not even a question that you love them. I know you’re going to sneak back into Macy’s room the second I fall asleep to make sure you’re there if she wakes up sick or scared.”
Faulk nodded. “That was my plan. Unless you know a way to keep me in bed.” He raised an eyebrow in challenge. Which was completely ridiculous. What the hell was he doing flirting with Riordan under these circumstances?
Pressing forward, Riordan kissed him. It was gentle at first, just a grazing of his lips against Faulk’s.
Content to let Riordan take the lead, Faulk waited to see what would happen next. He wasn’t disappointed. His hands came up to frame Faulk’s face. Soft lips landed on his own. Before he knew what was happening, Riordan was climbing into his lap.
Faulk could feel the hard column of Riordan’s erection pressing against his own. Whatever he’d been expecting to happen when he got into bed, this wasn’t it. He thought they’d chat for a bit about the kids, maybe kiss each other goodnight, not make-out like teenagers in the back of his father’s Buick. Not that Faulk was in any way, shape, or form opposed to this. He’d wanted Riordan since the day he’d seen the man dancing on stage.
“Put your hands on me, Faulk. Please.” Riordan’s voice was needy. Filled with desire.
There was nothing Faulk wanted more. Without a second’s hesitation, he slid his hands under Riordan’s navy tee. His skin was hot to the touch, as if he were burning for Faulk. Whatever it was, it was sexy as fuck.
Riordan hissed when Faulk’s finger’s grazed over his pebbled nipples. “Jesus, Faulk!”
Whipping his shirt over his head, Faulk licked over Riordan’s tender flesh. “Mmm, that’s a tasty little nibble.” Faulk dropped little love bites across his chest.
Riordan whimpered, clawing at Faulk’s tee-shirt.
“Oh, is this what you want?” Faulk hauled his shirt off in one fluid motion, sending it across room.
“Damn, you’re magnificent,” Riordan whispered reverently. He ran a finger down Faulk’s chest, his own breath catching. “You’re chiseled from stone, like Michelangelo’s David.”
No one had ever said anything like that to Faulk before. He wanted to press pause on this moment to stick those words in jar and seal them up for eternity. There wasn’t time for that. Riordan’s insistent erection was digging into his stomach. “You want to talk about stone? How about this monster?” He slid his hand over Riordan’s pant-clad erection.
“Yes! Faulk touch me! Make me yours.” Riordan’s hands dug into Faulk’s biceps, as if to emphasize his point.
Faulk could do that. Well, part of it anyway. He didn’t think either of them was ready for the whole enchilada. Riordan probably didn’t have the proper supplies anyway. That didn’t mean they couldn’t dip their toes in the water.
Slipping his hands under Riordan’s firm ass, he lifted his lover-to-be off his lap, depositing him flat on his back. One hand snaked into his pants, fisting around Riordan’s erection, while the other cupped the side of his face. “Do you know how beautiful you are like this? Your eyes dark with need, your lips parted, and you panting for me?”
Riordan gave his head a tiny shake. His eyes were locked with Faulk’s. “Please, Faulk.” It wasn’t a plea so much as it sounded like a demand.
He knew exactly what Riordan needed. Pulling down his sweats, Faulk took a few seconds to admire the view, his hand making a few slow strokes up and down Riordan’s cock. His eyes were riveted to the scene while Riordan whined, wordlessly, for more.
&nbs
p; Lowering his mouth, Faulk kept his eyes on Riordan the entire time. When his lips made contact with Riordan’s dick, he nearly came off the bed.
“Ah, fuck! Faulk!” Riordan pawed at Faulk’s naked shoulders.
He knew it had been a year since Riordan had felt anything like this, but shit, this man was about to come out of his skin. Bobbing his head slowly, he gave his lover a few minutes to get used to his pace and the sensations which had to be rocketing through his entire body.
Riordan’s fingers dug deeper into his own flesh to the point where Faulk knew there were going to be marks in the morning. His tongue curled against the underside of Riordan’s erection in an effort to add another layer of stimulation.
His hips canted up, sending Riordan’s dick to the back of Faulk’s throat making the detective gag. He pulled back, grinning down at his lover. “Anxious, huh?”
“I need your mouth on me. Don’t make me wait.” Riordan’s voice was a scratchy whisper.
Licking his wet lips, Faulk lowered his head, taking Riordan’s cock back into his mouth. His right index finger slipped down to Riordan’s most sensitive skin. His finger circled around the tight furl of muscle without trying to breach it.
Moaning, Riordan’s cock pulsed in Faulk’s mouth.
Faulk greedily swallowed every drop as it shot from Riordan’s dick. He could hear Riordan calling out for him as he writhed under him. When his cock gave its last weak trickle, Faulk pulled off with a wet pop, pressing a kiss against Riordan’s stomach.
“Holy shit!” Riordan whispered as Faulk pulled him to lie against his bare chest.
“You can say that again.” Faulk held him closer, pressing a kiss against the side of his head. He liked being close like this, holding Riordan tight and talking. He had a feeling it wasn’t going to last long. The tired father’s breathing was already starting to even out. It wasn’t going to be long before he dropped off to sleep. That was okay, Faulk would still be here when Riordan opened his dark eyes again.
15
Riordan
The digital readout on the alarm clock read 6:41am when Riordan’s eyes blinked open. His face was still resting on Faulk’s bare chest. It was a warm, safe place to be. The rest of the house was quiet. He couldn’t hear any sound coming from Macy’s baby monitor. When he got up in a minute, he’d peek in on both of his daughters to make sure they were resting comfortably.
Images of his time with Faulkner flashed through his mind. It was as if he could still feel Faulk’s hands on his skin, his lips on his cock. Riordan still couldn’t believe he’d been that bold, that he’d come on to Faulk like that, climbed into his lap, asked the cop to make him his own. He blushed in the dark just recalling his own words. The way he’d begged and pleaded.
In all of his time with Stephen, sex had never been like that, not even in the beginning when they were just getting to know each other. It had always seemed to him that Stephen had known exactly what he liked. What he needed.
For some reason, Riordan felt like he had to tell Faulkner what to do, when to do it, and then had needed to reinforce that by fucking himself up into Faulk’s sinful mouth. Hours later, he was still tingling over the bone-melting orgasm. He didn’t think he’d ever come that hard in his entire life.
It had also been a year since he’d been with another man. Definitely the longest dry spell of his adult life. During his marriage to Stephen the longest they’d ever gone without some kind of action was four days and that had been when they’d first taken Isla home from the hospital. Aside from that one parenthood-induced hiccup, they’d always had an active and varied sex life.
Riordan figured that when he lost Stephen, he also lost the sexually active side of himself. Sure, he handled his own needs, quietly and in the privacy of his bedroom. He just never figured he be kissed, touched, or sucked off by another man again. Now that he had, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
Lying here with Faulk was nice. The detective’s arms were loosely wrapped around him. All it would take was for him to back up a bit and he’d be free from the comfort of Faulk’s arms. Riordan wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to do that yet. He still had a lot on his mind. Things that he needed to work out. Big things. Important questions that needed to be answered. The biggest question of all being did this night with Faulk mean he cheated on Stephen?
He shrugged imperceptibly. Riordan knew the question itself was ridiculous. How could you possibly cheat on a dead man? Here they were, lying in the bed where he and Stephen had made love, planned for their future, laughed, and dreamed in each other’s arms. Faulk was sleeping where Stephen slept. Dreaming where Stephen dreamed.
In the heat of the moment, Riordan had been all in, now he wasn’t so sure. Was he just having a case of buyer’s remorse? Feeling guilty because he’d gone too far, too fast with a new lover, or was he really upset because he thought he’d done something that would taint his time with Stephen?
No sooner had that thought formed in his mind when Stephen’s nightstand light flashed on and off twice.
“Oh, my God!” Riordan whispered sitting up quickly, startling Faulkner awake. If that wasn’t an iron-clad answer from beyond the grave, Riordan didn’t know what was.
Faulk yawned, stretching his arms over his head before rubbing his left hand over his chest. He grinned at Riordan. “Good morning.” He pointed at the left side of Riordan’s head. “Bad case of bed head. Looks like you slept on my chest all night.” His grin softened as he sat up. “It’s a good look on you.” Faulk leaned forward to brush a kiss against his cheek.
Bouncing out of bed, Faulk grabbed his shirt from the bedroom floor and walked out of the room as he shrugged into it.
Jesus Christ, what was he going to do now? How the hell was he going to tell Faulk that last night was great and all, but that the detective needed to go and that they couldn’t see each other again.
“Good morning, little princess,” Faulk’s sweet-as-pie voice came over the baby monitor. “How are you feeling this morning? Oh, look, I think your fever’s down. Come here, honey.” Faulk made a little groan as he scooped the baby out of her crib. Macy gave a little coo.
Riordan watched them on the monitor, not sure what he should do. He kept watching as Faulk expertly changed her diaper and put her in the new set of pajamas that he’d left on the changing table in case there had been an incident in the night and she needed new clothes.
Faulk sat her up on the table, reaching for her little hair brush. He gently smoothed out her serious case of bed head. “There we go. You’re all set now. Do you want to go check on your sister?”
Macy nodded, barely reaching out for him. She nestled against Faulk when he lifted her up. That’s when Riordan lost sight of them on the monitor.
Sighing, Riordan got out of bed and headed into the bathroom to take care of his personal needs and brush his teeth. When he came out, all three of them were waiting for him in front of the bathroom door.
“Daddy!” Isla walked to him and wrapped her arms around his middle. Macy also reached her arms out for him too. Faulk handed her to him.
“Do you want me to start coffee for you or make buttered toast for them?” Faulk asked gently.
Isla shook her head. “No food.”
“They need to hydrate at least. Gatorade or something?” Faulk wore a helpless look on his face.
“Let’s get them downstairs first.” Riordan’s head was spinning. He should have just spoken to Faulk before he’d hopped out of bed like Captain America to save the day. Now, he was going to have to have this awkward conversation with both of the girls around. Granted they weren’t at full strength, but they might still be active enough to walk in on the conversation or overhear him talking to Uncle Faulk.
Faulk scooped up Isla as Riordan headed toward the stairs. His plan was to settle the girls on the couch in the living room and put Frozen on. He knew that would keep them busy for a bit and would give him a few minutes of peace to talk to Faulk.
“H
ere we go, Macy. How about if we watch Elsa?” Not waiting for an answer, he set Macy at one end of the sectional and wrapped her favorite blanket around her. He kissed her forehead and felt that she was cooler like Faulk had said. He watched as Faulk settled Isla in with a blanket of her own. He pulled the movie up and handed the remote to Isla to handle the volume.
“We survived the night!” Faulk pulled Riordan in for a hug before he even knew what was going on.
Riordan took a second to enjoy the warmth of his embrace before setting a hand in the center of his chest and pulling back. “Faulk,” he started, staring at the floor.
“Riordan, what is it?” Concern laced Faulkner’s voice.
“I…” Riordan took a deep breath. He dug deep for the courage to look up and face the man he’d spent the night with. “Faulk, I can’t do this. We can’t be together. I’m sorry.” He took a step backward from the detective who, instead of looking stunned, looked incredibly sad.
Faulk seemed to be studying Riordan. “I understand. You take good care of yourself and those amazing girls, Riordan Quinn.” Taking a step closer, Faulkner brushed a kiss against his cheek. He grabbed his pile of dry clothes from the dining room table and headed for the door.
Riordan could feel his heart breaking as Faulk quickly changed back into his date night clothes and slipped out the door. As the front door clicked shut, the dining room light started blinking.
16
Faulkner
Four days later, Faulk still couldn’t believe this was his life now. Even he had to admit that his night with Riordan had gone a little further, faster than he’d anticipated, but he hadn’t seen that kitchen chat coming. Not by a long shot.
What he had seen was the heartbreak in Riordan’s dark eyes. That was plain to see. That look was still haunting Faulk. Possibly because all he’d done, aside from going to work, was pace around his tiny North End apartment since he’d left Riordan’s house early Thursday morning.