by Dead Moon Rising [Siren Menage Everlasting, American Heroes- South Dakota] (lit)
“Want me to make you something to eat first?”
Del leaned in and kissed him. Their quiet street, combined with their large, well-shaded yard and high shrubs, ensured they wouldn’t offend the neighbors. “No thanks, I just want to sleep. How’s she doing?”
“I just hired me a new geek.”
“No shit?”
“She’s damn good. She’s worked with my CMS software before.” He grinned. “Can we keep her? Huh, huh, can we? I promise I’ll walk her and feed her and potty train her and everything, Pop.”
Del laughed at John’s playful, hopeful expression. “You’re too much. I’m supposed to be the one loopy from lack of sleep.”
They walked inside, and he stopped at John’s office doorway. Sarah sat at one of the desks, a laptop in front of her and something hi-test on her mp3 player from the light, tinny sound he heard all the way across the room.
She turned and smiled at them and something inside him twisted, just a little, in a very good way. Especially when he remembered her frantically hugging him when he found her.
She pulled her earbuds out. “Everything okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I need to sleep, and then we’ll talk.”
She frowned. “Tell me now or you won’t get to sleep because I’ll be driving you crazy to know what’s going on.”
He stepped inside the office. “Your intuition and luck in me finding you might have saved your life last night. The couple in the RV rig were murdered by someone we suspect is a serial killer.”
She gasped. “Oh, no!” Tears welled in her eyes.
He tried to keep his voice gentle, considering how upset she looked. “We’ll talk after I get some sleep.” John followed him to their bedroom and quietly shut the door behind them.
“How bad?” he whispered. “What haven’t you told me?”
Del unloaded his sidearm and put it in the small gun lockbox in their walk-in closet before heading to their bathroom. “Bad. Like nothing I’ve ever seen.”
John started the shower for Del as he undressed. Then John stepped over to him and gently pushed his hands away as he finished unbuttoning Del’s shirt. “You want to talk about it?”
“Not yet.” He closed his eyes and tipped his head forward, resting his forehead against John’s. John was a comfortable three inches shorter than his own six-four.
John slipped Del’s shirt off his shoulders so he could shuck the bulletproof vest, followed by the T-shirt he wore underneath. “Bath, blow-job, and bed.”
Del gently laughed. “Not sure I’m up for that.”
“I meant I’d give you one, babe. You won’t be able to sleep otherwise. You know that.” John kissed him, so sweet and tenderly Del felt his heart race. “You know a bad night gives you bad dreams unless I employ a little old fashioned lovin’.”
He felt his cock inflating. John knew him too well. “Let’s get into the shower,” he hoarsely said, “or I’ll have you on your knees right now.”
John led him under the spray and soaped up a washcloth. He didn’t let Del do anything except stand there, eyes closed, leaning against the wall for support. When he reached his cock, he especially took his time, bringing a smile to Del’s weary lips.
“I could be half-dead and you’d still manage to get me up. How do you do that?”
“Magic, my dear boy.”
After rinsing and drying him, John led him to bed. Del didn’t miss the low grunt of pain John tried to suppress as he knelt over him.
“Whoa, how much are you hurting?”
“Not too much.” He pushed Del down to the bed. “You just lay there and enjoy this and drift into happy dreams.”
John had already pulled the blinds and curtains shut so only the dimmest of glow peeked around the edges into the cool room. John dipped his head, his hair softly brushing against Del’s thigh as he settled into position between his legs.
When John’s hot lips engulfed his shaft, Del groaned and plunged his fingers into his hair. “Oh, baby, that’s so good.”
Depending on his mood and John’s, one of his blow jobs could be hot and quick and explosive, leaving him wanting more, or long and slow and gentle, leaving him physically drained and drifting to sleep. John went for the latter this morning, languorous sweeps of his tongue over the head and along the ridge, combined with wet pulls taking him almost all the way down to the root. After what felt like forever, John wet two fingers and pressed them against his rim, triggering an explosion that nearly took his breath away.
As he lay there, already feeling sleep pull at him, John changed position and curled up next to him, his hand lightly resting on his chest. “Go to sleep, babe. I’ll take your phone out there with me. If you get any official calls that can’t wait, I’ll wake you.”
“’Kay…”
* * * *
John lay there with him another twenty minutes until Del’s chest rose and fell in a deep, steady rhythm.
Poor guy, he’s wiped out.
He wondered if Del would have nightmares, or if he’d manage to get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. Del, despite his physique and manner, was a gentle soul. Any loss of life troubled him. Especially loss of innocent life.
Once convinced Del wouldn’t awaken, he carefully crawled out of their bed, wincing at his stiff leg. Okay, so he’d fibbed to Del about how much pain he was in this morning, but it was worth it to help him get to sleep. His own cock was disappointed not to see any morning action, but once he got back to work, the distraction would take his mind off his libido.
He dressed and grabbed his cane and Del’s work cell and left their bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him. Their bedroom lay at the far end of the hall, with the second, smaller guest room that they also used as an exercise room separating it from the office. As long as they kept the office door shut, they shouldn’t disturb him.
He found Sarah in front of her laptop, earbuds in but her hands frozen a few inches over her keyboard and an odd, glassy stare on her face that struck him as unusual for some reason. He worried at first that maybe she was having some sort of mild seizure, but she sensed his entry and turned, offering up a sad smile as she pulled the earbuds out.
He closed the office door behind him. “He’ll probably sleep until four, as long as we don’t make too much noise.” He sat in his chair and rolled it over to her. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
He arched an eyebrow at her, and she shook her head, breaking down and crying.
It felt right to lean in and wrap his arms around her. She looked so fragile, so vulnerable. “It’s okay to be upset. Let it out.”
“I saw them standing there and talking. I’m the last person who saw that man alive.”
“No, the killer was.”
“Why did he pick them? He could have taken me there at the gas station.”
“He probably realized there were security cameras. Coulda, woulda, shoulda. If you’d stayed there, it would have been safer for you. He doesn’t want to be on tape.”
She shuddered in his embrace. “He knows, doesn’t he? He knows about me?”
Del silently sighed. She’d have to hear it sooner or later. “Apparently he left a message on your car.”
She sat back and looked at him, shock and fear on her face. “What?”
He told her, and her trembling resumed as she gaped.
“What am I going to do?” she whispered.
He clasped her hands and squeezed. “Well, one, your car is evidence. So it’s not going anywhere anytime soon, even if it was running. Two, you’re going to stay right here with us.” He smiled. “Two armed officers of the law are pretty good roommates. Well, one officer and one retired officer. Three, you’re going to have to promise me one thing.” He needed to get her mind off the grisly discovery or it would eat her alive.
“What?”
“That you won’t sue your new boss for sexual harassment if I happen to tease you, or if I can’t help myself and give you a hug every so
often.”
He knew how deep her fear ran when he saw how long it took her to process that. She let out a yelp of laughter before clapping both hands over her mouth, her terror transforming to almost hysterical laughter as she collapsed in his arms. This time, her trembling was from trying to keep quiet and not wake Del with her laughter, instead of disabling fear.
She finally pulled herself together, hiccupping as she nodded, a beautiful smile on her face. “Only on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“You won’t fire me for teasing or hugging you back.”
He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Done. Who knows? That might get you a raise.”
She giggled again. “Of more than one kind?”
He really liked this girl. “Oh, hell yeah, baby.”
Chapter Three
Sarah had sat and waited for John’s return as she tried to work, but her fear kept her nearly paralyzed.
Until something else crept in.
Warm, gentle tenderness, love, and more than a hint of passion.
She closed her eyes, amazed and welcoming the distraction. Sometimes her funky little talent keyed her in to someone, but this was new and different and totally welcomed. She willingly lost track of time as she immersed herself in the sensation.
John’s love for Del seemed to envelop the house in a warm, glowing energy, mirrored by Del’s when he returned home, filling the space with a welcoming aura she couldn’t ignore. She felt her own passion stir more than a little, which said something since the last thing she’d been since her break-up was in the mood.
A flash of envy sparked through her. Two handsome men, and all she could do was bask in this.
Well, the alternative wasn’t very pretty.
Then again, maybe she should quit whining. She was far better off than that poor couple in the RV.
Dark chills threatened to take over again, so she focused on the love and passion two rooms over.
She hated to talk about her freaky little inner voice, hated to label it anything other than intuition on steroids, because she didn’t want to become one of “those people.” Someone treated as a freak—well, okay, her friends and family already treated her like a freak—or sought out by desperate people for some hint of hope.
All she wanted was to live her life and learn to tune out the feelings that had, admittedly, grown stronger over the past few years.
I am not psychic!
Maybe if she kept repeating it enough she’d finally start to believe her own bullshit.
John returned, and she had herself a right embarrassing mini-meltdown before he got her laughing again. She wished she could stay in Mitchell forever instead of eventually going to Miami, because she instinctively knew she’d love working closely with him long-term. He had a gentle way about him that totally put her at ease.
At least I can telecommute from Florida.
Lunch time rolled around, and he declared them on break. He turned to her and smiled. “What’s your poison, ma’am? Leftover pasta, a fresh salad with grilled chicken, or an omelet?”
“I feel spoiled.”
He grinned. “Give me a couple of weeks. I’ll have you talked into staying for good.”
She felt a wave of sincerity from him that nearly drove her to tears again. That was another thing. Normally she only felt the flashes a few times a week, and rarely this strongly. It felt like a non-stop transmission now, and had ever since she awoke that morning.
They settled on salad, and she helped him fix it while he threw two chicken breasts on the stovetop grill. Once they were seated at the table, he asked, “Sick of me yet?”
“You’re far from the worst boss I’ve worked for, trust me.”
He laid down his fork. “I meant it. You’re welcomed to stay as long as you want. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it. Let’s give it a couple of weeks and see where things are with the investigation, and we’ll discuss room and board then. As long as you pull your weight with the chores, and you don’t have a problem with our lifestyle, then I don’t see any problems.”
She frowned. “Your lifestyle?”
He laughed. “Two men living together. Or did you not notice that?”
“Phht. I thought you meant you ran around dressed like animals or something. I grew up in Seattle. Two guys living together is on the conservative end of the scale there. You have to be poly or into BDSM to break out of the vanilla classification, not just gay.”
It was his turn to laugh. “Then we’ll all get along just fine.”
* * * *
Del awoke, as John predicted, around four o’clock that afternoon. He emerged from their bedroom and stood in the office doorway, handsome in sleeping shorts and with messy bedhead hair.
Her heart made a little thump. Maybe living here long term wouldn’t be a bad idea after all. She’d already called her uncle and explained what happened, put John on the phone with him when she couldn’t bring herself to talk about the details, and John assured her uncle she was welcomed for as long as she wanted to stay.
Uncle Eddie grudgingly agreed that was probably the best place for her—for now—but insisted she call him the second she needed him, and he’d fly out to get her.
Del leaned against the doorframe. “Did you get any work done for slave driver here?” he asked her, his voice sounding hoarsely sexy and deep with lingering sleep.
“Yeah, we had fun.”
Del nodded. “I need to get some coffee in me and some breakfast.” He frowned. “Sorry, dinner. I hate these friggin’ night shifts. Once I’m awake enough to check in with my boss, I’ll find out if he wants me to bring you in for your official statement, or if I can just take it here before I go out on patrol.”
“I still have some things in the trunk of my car. Will I be able to get them?”
“Valuables?”
“No, just clothes and books. I brought my computers and stuff with me.”
“Okay. I’ll run you over to the garage where they towed your car. The place that hooked it, Davies’ Repair, has an enclosed storage bay for stuff like that. Until the crime scene techs sign off on it, it’s going to stay impounded.”
“For a while?”
“Probably.” He glanced at John. “I’m guessing you told her the basics?”
“Had to, Del. She deserved to know.”
“Okay. Coffee first.”
John stood and grabbed his cane. “It’s ready. I’ll make you some breakfast.”
Within an hour, Del had eaten, dressed, taken her official statement, and now she sat in the passenger seat of John’s Ford Explorer as they followed Del in his cruiser.
The chilling, ominous feeling returned the closer they drove to the garage, despite the bright, hot afternoon. She ran her hands over her arms.
John noticed. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”
“No I won’t. Trust me.”
“It’s that feeling again. That blackness. Like I felt last night.” When they turned into the back lot behind the automotive repair shop that ran the wrecker business, the feeling screamed at her. “I think I might be sick.”
He reached across the seats and patted her thigh. “Want me and John to get your stuff? You can stay here.”
She stared at the concrete block building in back, which had several closed overhead garage doors, and knew that was where her car sat. Would she ever be able to drive it again? “No, I’ll do it.” She slowly got out and waited for John to round the Explorer and walk with her as they joined Del by the gate.
A woman walked out to meet them. “Hi, Del. John.” She handed Del a clipboard. “I’m to give you this and have you sign it that you removed items from the car. Crime scene techs left it, said you know what to do. You don’t need to get into the truck or RV, do you?”
“Nope.” He scanned it and scrawled his signature on it “Thanks, Cindy. Tom around? I need to get his official statement.”
“No, he’s ou
t on a run.” She handed Del a pair of blue disposable nitrile gloves. Sarah barely kept her stomach from upending. “They asked that only you remove stuff from the car. They got pictures and samples and stuff, but they want to keep contamination to a minimum even though they didn’t find any traces of blood or anything inside the car.” She laughed. “They had Tom dressed in one of those damn white jumpsuits when he dumped it off the rollback. He looked like the Pillsbury Dough Boy. Then he had to wear one again for the truck and RV.”
Del smiled as he took the gloves. “No problem. It’s their SOP on stuff like that.” He glanced around. “Where’s the rig?”
She pointed. “Inside, taking up two bays. Man, what a pain in the ass that was, having to shuffle vehicles around to make room for them. Didn’t think the fifth wheel was going to fit at first. They insisted it needed to be inside for now.”
She handed over the keys. Sarah felt glad she’d pulled off her door and ignition keys and kept the rest or she’d never want her beloved Yoda key ring back.
Following Cindy, they approached the next to last door on the far end of the storage building. The dark cloud threatened to engulf Sarah, but she forced herself to stay firmly by John’s side. Apparently sensing her unrest, he laid a comforting palm on the small of her back.
“It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to touch anything.”
Cindy unlocked and rolled up the door. Sarah gasped at the ruddy brown markings on her white car. “Oh my god!”
John’s palm became his arm firmly hooked around her waist to keep her steady. “It’s okay,” he whispered in her ear. “You want me to take you back to my car?”
She shook her head, horror-struck and riveted at the same time as Del pulled on the gloves and unlocked her trunk. Inside were all her things, not exactly as she’d left them, but still there as far as she could tell.
“That’s not how I packed the trunk,” she said, her voice quivering, terrified the killer might have touched her belongings.
Del nodded. “I’m sure they took everything out when they processed the car. Probably inventoried it. I can ask for copies of their photos so you can see how it was before they started.” He handed out her duffel bags and suitcases, followed by the three boxes of books. “That’s all in the trunk.”