Unobtainable

by Shawn Lane

  He drew out my cock, sliding his fist along the length, his thumb grazing the tip, where it leaked pre-cum. I wondered for a moment whether he thought he was going to fuck me against the wall. But then he abruptly released my cock, pulled me away from the wall and pushed me in the direction of my bedroom.

  I found myself heading there without even attempting to fight the urge, and I was pretty sure I should be. But as we entered the room and the words of protest formed on my lips, Edgar shoved me face down onto the bed.

  I heard him open my nightstand drawer and remove a condom and lube from the place where I had retrieved them the previous night. This was going to happen again. And I was going to let him. We both knew it.

  I raised myself enough to pull my shirt over my head and toss it across the room. I managed to toe off my shoes after a bit of a struggle. I lifted my hips as his hands went to the waistband of my jeans, and he yanked them off with my boxer briefs, leaving me nude.

  One of his hands landed on my right ass cheek hard enough to make me flinch, but I was ready for the other hand that landed on my left one. I exhaled slowly, wiggling my ass in the air, encouraging more. Three more slaps stung each cheek.

  Then I heard the snap of the lid from the lube bottle. I spread my legs even as I felt blunt fingers pushing between my cheeks. Edgar wasted no time using only one finger, but instead immediately thrust two slicked digits inside me. My hole opened easily for him. He didn’t bother with a third finger either, instead withdrawing, and as I looked over my shoulder, I watched him roll the condom over his fat cock.

  I still had a chance to protest this. To throw him out of my room, out of my apartment. Tell him we just weren’t doing this. Not again. This was the moment when I could stop it. I knew that. But I wouldn’t. Didn’t. Instead, I buried my face in the bed and reached underneath me to close my hand around my leaking dick.

  I felt Edgar rise above me and his hands gripping my hipbones hard enough to leave more bruises to match those he’d given me the night before. Hot breath fanned the nape of my neck. His cock parted my cheeks and the tip breeched the tight ring.

  My teeth sunk into my bottom lip and I clawed the sheets as he pushed deeper inside me. He paused for a few heartbeats, long enough for the sting of his entry to pass. And then he was moving, penetrating deeper still with each hard thrust, plowing into me with such force the bed moaned in protest.

  He gripped me with one hand on my hipbone and slid the other beneath my legs, his fist joining mine on my cock. His callused fingers were rough and not at all gentle, but it was what I wanted, what I craved.

  My orgasm tingled up my spine, then slammed into me the way Edgar slammed into me as my balls tightened, my cock jerked, and emptied against the sheets.

  Edgar continued fucking me, the slap of his balls joining the low growls from his throat and the creaks of the bed in creating the only noises in the otherwise quiet apartment. And with a roar, he jerked inside me three more times, then stilled.

  He pulled out of me almost instantly, rising from the bed, with his soft footsteps heading toward the bathroom.

  Briefly closing my eyes, I shook my head at my own stupidity. I’d let him have me again. Made it easy for him, really. I turned over onto my back, staring at the ceiling. I felt dirty, yeah. But also I suspected I’d let him do it again.

  I finally struggled to stand and reached for my clothes, redressing. I’d clean up later. I suspected Edgar would rush to get out of my apartment so I’d have plenty of time for that. I padded barefoot toward the kitchen, grabbing my bag of now-cold fast food to reheat in the microwave.

  I was just putting it on a plate when Edgar came out of my bedroom, dressed. “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself.”

  Edgar walked into the kitchen and opened my fridge. He’d done that since I’d known him, always making himself at home in my place. Anywhere, really. Edgar was bold. He took out a bottle of beer and twisted off the top. “You want one?”

  “Sure.”

  He handed the one he’d just opened to me and removed another. “You got anything to eat?”

  I shrugged. “Nope. Which is why I stopped for fast food. Haven’t really had a chance to go to the store. Need to.”

  “Hmm.” He eyed my hamburger and fries. “Okay if I order a pizza?”

  I blinked. “You’re staying?”

  “If it’s okay.”

  I wanted to ask what all this meant, why he was now acting like we were a thing or something. When I knew we weren’t. I was just somebody to fuck. Edgar had a bunch of somebodies. But his heart…that was unobtainable. I was no fool.

  Or maybe I was.

  “Yeah, it’s okay.”

  Chapter 3

  I awoke to the tune of some ancient rock song I couldn’t quite recognize in my half-sleep.

  “Lopez,” Edgar said gruffly from the spot next to me in the bed. I could hear the rumblings of someone speaking on the other end of his cellphone but I couldn’t make out words. Edgar sat up straight. “All right. Okay. Yeah, I will. Give me an hour or so.”

  I blearily blinked at the time on the ceiling. 3:00 AM.

  Edgar put down his phone.

  “A case?” I asked.

  “No.” He rested his hand on my bare leg. “Family stuff. My sister showed up at my mother’s. She had a fight with her boyfriend again.”

  “And what’s that got to do with you?”

  I felt him shrug. “Mom wants me there. Probably wonders if she can press charges or something.”

  “You want me to go with you?” Honestly, I hoped not. I wanted to stay in bed. We had the next couple of days off unless there was new information on the homeless case. There was another homicide team, Crane and Smith, who also worked the case as secondary. We shouldn’t be needed as they’d give us reports on any interviews or share any findings they might discover.

  “No, you stay in bed. Family shit is unpleasant. I’ll save you from my morning breath.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek. “I’m going home to shower first.”

  I saw his shadowed body rise from the bed. “All right, see you.” I almost said the dreaded words, “call me,” but it was stupid. Edgar always called me anyway.

  I heard him leave my apartment less than five minutes later. I stumbled out of bed and went to the front door to secure the deadbolt, then stumbled right back to bed. I was sore from his second-of-the-night fucking and exhausted besides.

  I was probably asleep before my head hit the pillow.

  * * * *

  When I woke again, the time above me read 9:00 AM. I debated lazing in bed for a while longer, but ultimately rose and headed for the shower. By the time I made it to my kitchen for coffee, about half an hour had passed.

  As I waited for the coffee to brew, I grabbed a pad of paper to make a list for the grocery store. And then my cell vibrated, indicating I had received a text.

  Come to my house for dinner?

  Edgar.

  I texted back…

  What for?

  To have dinner. Why do you think? Like 4?

  Okay, so we’d had dinner before. Nothing new about that. We’d become friends since becoming partners. To refuse now would be weird.

  Ok

  So I fixed myself breakfast, went over some reports despite it being my day off, then did the grocery shopping before heading over to Edgar’s place. I’d packed a change of clothes in a small overnight bag, but I intended to keep that in the trunk of my car. I had a pretty good idea Edgar intended for us to fuck, but even if I allowed that—which I probably would—that didn’t mean I’d stay over. I’d play that by ear.

  Edgar had a house not far from the main beach of Haydon Cliff. He’d owned it for years and had bought it with some inheritance he’d gotten while in his early twenties from a family member. He’d told me many times that it had been dirt cheap and had been previously owned by a widow who had moved in with her daughter in San Diego. It wasn’t a large house, more like a cozy little bungalow with
just three bedrooms and one small bathroom. Built years before builders planned grand master bedroom suites as part of the floor plan. Edgar talked of someday expanding the bathroom, but he hadn’t done so yet.

  I parked my sedan in front of his house and immediately noticed his mom’s little hybrid hatchback parked in the driveway. Edgar hadn’t mentioned his mom would be there. I got out of my car and turned to survey the ocean. It was a cold, overcast day, as many were in Haydon Cliff, but the view was still breathtaking. I doubted I could ever afford a view like this.

  I went up the walkway just as the front door opened and Edgar’s mom came out. She smiled warmly.

  “Scott! How lovely to see you.” She came forward and embraced me. She pulled back. “You look tired.”

  “Maybe a little,” I admitted.

  “It’s this case, no? I asked my son if I was safe. He said yes. But you never know, do you?”

  “So far it’s only been homeless people, Mrs. Lopez.”

  “Deena. So far, yes. But if it’s a serial killer—”

  “Mama, there’s no evidence of that,” Edgar declared, coming up behind her. He gave me an apologetic smile. “She’s just leaving.”

  “My own son throwing me out.”

  “I am not.” He rolled his eyes. “She really was just leaving.”

  Edgar’s mom waved her hand at him in a chopping motion, then returned her attention to me. “Are you sure you’re not gay, Scott?”

  “Mama!”

  “Hush. My son needs a nice boy like you to settle down with. I worry.”

  I smiled. “I don’t really think Edgar’s looking to settle down any time soon.”

  She grimaced. “I know. And who knows? Maybe it’s not such a good idea anyway. Look at my Gloria.”

  Gloria was, of course, Edgar’s sister.

  She squeezed my hand. “I really am leaving. See you soon, Scott?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Lopez.”

  “Deena!” she called over her shoulder as she headed to the hatchback.

  We waved as she drove off. When I turned to face Edgar, he was staring at me rather intently.

  “Sorry about that. She dropped by unexpectedly. She forgot to give me something when I was at her place earlier.”

  I shrugged. “I’d hardly stop you from having your mother over.”

  Edgar gestured to the front door. “Come in.”

  I entered his house and he followed me inside, closing the door behind him.

  “I thought we’d have baked chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy and a veggie. That okay with you?”

  “Sure, whatever. Kind of fancy though. You feeling all right?” I joked.

  “Something wrong with having a nice dinner?”

  “Nope. We just never have. Usually you grill burgers and dogs.”

  “It’s a little chilly to be outside grilling,” Edgar said as he went into his kitchen. “Beer? Wine? Tequila?”

  I stared at him. “What kind of wine?”

  “Uh. Hang on.” Edgar opened the refrigerator and peeked inside. “White Cabernet. I found it at the store today.”

  Found it at the store? With a shrug, I said, “Sure, I’ll have some.”

  He nodded and took out the wine and two glasses.

  I leaned against the counter while I watched him open the bottle and pour me a glass, which he handed to me. It was a slightly darker pink than White Zinfandel.

  “What are you doing?” I asked at last, wondering when Edgar had started dating me.

  He blinked, clearly startled by the question. “Huh?”

  “What is this, Edgar?”

  “Dinner.”

  “Right. But you and me. Okay, the first night was mostly me. But last night and today. Are we a thing now?”

  Edgar scrunched up his face. “Do we have to put some kind of label on it? We’re partners. Friends.”

  “And now…what? Lovers? Sexual partners?”

  “Isn’t that what you want?” Edgar asked.

  I shook my head and took a sip of the wine. “We’re not exactly compatible”

  “How so?” He raised both eyebrows. “We’re both cops. Both work homicide. We enjoy a lot of the same things. We live in the same city. We’re both gay.” He stared hard at me. “Aren’t we?”

  “You have to ask that?”

  “Well, really, Scott, until the day before yesterday you gave me zero clue you were into guys. You kissing me and pretty much throwing yourself at me was my first fucking clue.”

  I flinched. “Yeah, okay. So I attacked you.”

  “Yeah, you did. And I’m not really complaining about that. You’re hot. I’m not going to pretend I don’t find you attractive because that would be completely ridiculous at this point. But you never even mentioned an attraction to guys before. Even when I talked about it. I didn’t know you were in the closet.”

  “I’m not. Not exactly. But I don’t think we should go around announcing two gay cops are partnered together.”

  “Probably not,” Edgar acknowledged. “But I thought I was your best friend. And you never let on at all.”

  Best friend? I didn’t really think of myself as having a best friend. Sure, Edgar and I were good friends. Like most partners ended up being. We’d do some things together, occasionally. But we didn’t spend all our free time together. Lots of days off went by without me seeing Edgar. Especially when he went cruising for his latest pickups. I didn’t want any part of that, though he’d never asked me since he hadn’t known my sexual preferences.

  For me, it had been a long time since I’d actually gone on a date. Longer still since I had anyone I could call a boyfriend.

  “Anyway, whatever your reason for being secretive, I know now,” Edgar said. “And like I said, can’t we just…enjoy this, whatever it is, without having some big discussion about where we’re going and what we are and all that?”

  We could, I guessed. But the thing was, I knew what I said to Edgar’s mom was true. He wasn’t ready to settle down. And I was going to end up hurt.

  “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Even as I said those words, I knew I’d end up regretting them.

  Chapter 4

  I was three bites into the baked chicken when I realized Edgar was watching me. He’d barely touched his own food, but his gaze was focused on me.

  “What?”

  “Wondering if you like it.”

  I blinked. “The food? Yeah, of course.”

  “No lumps in the potatoes?”

  “No.” I shook my head and finished the Cabernet.

  “You want more wine?”

  “I probably shouldn’t,” I said. “Have to drive home.”

  Edgar shrugged. “I thought, you know, you could stay over.”

  Of course he was hoping for that. Another night of an easy lay with good ol’ Scott. And really, I had just sort of agreed we could be…whatever.

  “You’re overthinking things,” he said softly. “I see the wheels turning. Come on, Scott. I think I know you pretty well. You have an overnight bag in your car, don’t you?”

  I tried not to blush. Hoped I had succeeded, but doubted I had. “Yeah.”

  “When dinner is over, go get it. I want you to stay over, you want to stay over. Why fight either of us?”

  “I hate how sure you are of yourself sometimes.”

  He smiled, flashing white teeth. “I’m not that confidant. We can watch a movie and then—”

  I snorted. “You aren’t subtle at all.”

  “Why should I be? We’re two consenting adults. Aren’t we?”

  Yeah, we were, even if I had consented to too much.

  I nodded.

  “More wine?” He held up the bottle toward my glass.

  “Yeah.”

  * * * *

  Dinner really was good, and when it was over, I offered to do the dishes. But Edgar refused and just sort of rinsed them and left them in the sink, saying he’d deal with them in the morning.

  We went into his living room and he put on
a movie, but he was paying much more attention to me then he was the film. His hand was curled around my neck and his thumb caressed the pulse point of my throat.

  “You aren’t watching this,” I said, keeping my gaze on the screen.

  “Hmm, I’m happy with what I am watching.”

  I was unused to Edgar’s attention. It was strange, given the time we’d been together as partners. But he’d had a point. I had never really given him a clue I was attracted to guys. I had never done the macho thing others from the force did, asking Edgar in crass ways why he didn’t like women. But neither did I ever flat out say, “Yeah, that guy’s hot.”

  “Have you seen it?” he asked. It was one of those car chase movies, fairly famous.

  “A time or two.”

  Which made me wonder how many guys he had at his place with whom he’d done this very thing. I felt myself tense.

  Edgar’s thumb stopped moving. “What?”

  I shook my head.

  “What?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  His fingers touched my jaw, turning my head so that I couldn’t avoid looking into his dark brown eyes. “You think too much, Scott. Maybe we should just go to bed.”

  I felt myself smile. “Is that your answer to everything?”

  “To you, yes. To everything, no.” Edgar stood and pulled me up from his couch. “Let’s stop pretending. We both want me to fuck you.”

  “You really are a cocky bastard, aren’t you?”

  But I was allowing him to draw me into his bedroom, letting him control me, dominate me, as though I had no free will of my own. Maybe I didn’t where Edgar was concerned.

  Sex for sex’s sake. Could I continue to do that? My cock was already completely hard and aching, so I suspected my body’s answer was a resounding “yes.”

  His blunt fingers were warm against my chilled flesh as they eased under my T-shirt, skimming my abs. “You’re really hot, you know that, Scott?”

  I started to shake my head, but his hands had risen to grip my face. He kissed me hard, his tongue pushing effortlessly past my lips. His kiss turned feral when I tried to pull away, his teeth nipping at my mouth, the pressure of his lips hardening, more punishing.