by Sloan Parker
Sawyer tried to move forward, but Finn held both arms up, keeping him at bay. Sawyer stopped. “What the hell? You started this.”
Finn took another step back and folded his arms over his chest. “I want an answer first.”
“What? Or it’s no sex? Who knew you’d play it like that?”
“This isn’t some fucked-up game I’m playing with you.” He ran a shaking hand over his close-cropped hair. “I can’t handle it.”
“Handle what?”
“Being with you, knowing it could be the last time.”
“It doesn’t have to be. That’s your deal.”
“And I won’t take it back. I can’t take it back.” He swung an arm toward the kitchen doorway. “I need you to leave until you’ve made up your mind.”
Fuck that. Sawyer got in Finn’s face. “It’s a bullshit choice. One of us has to walk away from our job? A job we’ve worked our asses off to get? A job we love doing? One we’re both damn good at? That’s not going to happen.”
“It has to. Or we’re done.”
“All because I got shot?” He was shouting now.
“All because I nearly put our teammates in jeopardy. All because you mean too much to me. I can’t compartmentalize it anymore. And that’s too big of a risk. To us. To the team. To civilians. I’m a good enough cop to know that.”
Sawyer glared at Finn for a moment more, then turned away. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
“It’s not just me.”
“The hell it isn’t.” Sawyer couldn’t take discussing this for one more minute. He swiped his T-shirt off the floor and wrenched it over his head on his way out of the kitchen. He stopped at the front door. He didn’t need to turn around to know Finn was behind him. He told him, “Enjoy the vacation.”
There was a long pause. Then Finn whispered, “Don’t go like this.”
“Don’t make me choose.”
When he didn’t get an answer, he yanked open the door and walked out.
* * * *
It was the longest two weeks of Sawyer’s life. He did his job, stayed focused, completed the training drills, lifted weights, but he felt like he was just going through the motions. A part of him wasn’t there.
Two weeks, and he hadn’t talked to Finn once. He’d tried calling and texting, but Finn hadn’t returned a single message. Which probably wasn’t a bad thing. Sawyer still hadn’t figured out what the hell to say to Finn to get him to change his mind.
When Finn got back to work on the Monday after his vacation, the team was suited up in full gear to attend an on-site field-training course with a woman from Homeland Security. Finn didn’t acknowledge Sawyer, didn’t even look his way as they stood not more than twenty feet apart, the rest of the SWAT team positioned between them, awaiting instructions in the abandoned building the department used for training.
The woman from Homeland entered the room. She was a tiny thing, but one look at her and he knew she was tough as hell and would take no shit from any of them. She was there to give them essential information that could help keep them and civilians alive, and they better listen up.
Her plan was to give an overview of three new recommendations on hostage situations during mass shootings, and then the team would go through the scenarios real-time in full tactical gear.
She asked for a volunteer to help with the demonstrations. Finn stepped up.
“You’ll be a hostage.” She took Finn aside and gave him some instructions, and then they returned to the group.
Standing beside Finn, she held on to him with one hand and pointed a semiautomatic handgun at his side as she said, “As we all know, when a gunman takes a hostage as a shield, there are several ways it can end. One being they’ll use the hostage to commit suicide by cop.”
Without warning, she shoved Finn away and aimed the weapon at him. “Bang.” Finn went down.
He hit the ground flat on his back, like he’d really taken a bullet to the chest. The woman continued talking, but Sawyer didn’t hear a word. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. He stared at Finn lying motionless on the ground, and in that moment everything was clear.
It hit him with immediacy and an intensity Sawyer couldn’t have predicted despite all he’d seen in his career. How he would’ve felt that day had it been Finn who’d been shot, had it been Finn who desperately needed help to survive, all while Sawyer had to go on with the job, not knowing whether or not Finn was dying within his reach. The breath caught in his chest. “Jesus.”
The commander turned to glare back at him. “What?”
Sawyer could barely find his voice. He forced the word out. “Nothing.”
During the rest of the training, he did his best to focus on the woman from Homeland, on her demonstrations, and the training drills, all the while avoiding direct contact with Finn.
The man who’d been right about everything.
* * * *
Sawyer successfully avoided eye contact with Finn for the rest of their shift, but it was Finn who hightailed it to his truck after the post-training debriefing. Guess Sawyer wasn’t the only one doing some avoiding.
Well, no more.
Which was why he found himself standing outside Finn’s house, waiting for the smart son of a bitch to open the door and talk to him. He knocked again, but when he got no answer, he pulled out the key Finn had given him a while back and let himself inside.
He heard the shower running and headed down the hall toward the lone bathroom. He swung the door in but stopped short of stepping inside. Instead he leaned against the doorjamb and took in the sight of the bathroom. New paint color, new floor, new cabinet, new mirror, even the damn shower curtain was new. The realization that Finn had actually finished the bathroom, that he’d gone ahead with his plans without Sawyer there to help stung. Fiercely. Sawyer had worked with him on every other single thing Finn had done to the house since he’d bought the place.
It hurt worse to know that missing the bathroom redo was his own fault.
He watched Finn through a gap between the shower enclosure and the pale blue curtain. A naked, wet Finn. God, he was beautiful.
Finn was washing his hair, moving with agitation that kept the taut muscles of his shoulders and back and upper arms flexed. Even his ass and thighs were tense. He spun around to rinse his hair, bringing the front of his body into view. Rivulets of water ran down his chest, his abs, along the dark trail of hair leading south, then over his thigh muscles. Sawyer thought about the scar from the bullet wound on his own upper right thigh, a match to the one on his left shoulder, the two shots he’d taken that day he’d gone down during the raid on Pickett. He imagined what he’d feel if he were seeing those scars on Finn’s body right then. He couldn’t avoid the way that picture sat heavy on his chest.
Yet he couldn’t help himself. He grinned because there was also no way for him to avoid the very hard cock that was jutting out from Finn’s body, bobbing with his sharp movements. Apparently being pissed-off got Finn all hot and bothered.
Sawyer made his way to the shower, kicking off his shoes and socks as he went, pulling off his T-shirt, then his jeans and underwear. He slid back the curtain and stepped inside.
Finn’s eyes widened at the intrusion, but he said nothing.
Sawyer didn’t hesitate. He approached and pressed his lips to Finn’s. It was a sweet, chaste kiss unlike any they’d shared before.
Finn studied him with uncertainty. “What was that for?”
“You were right.” Sawyer took a step back and leaned against the shower wall. “If…” He swallowed, drew in a deep breath, and forged on. “If it had been you in that house, if you had taken a bullet that day, I would’ve done anything to get to you, to make sure you were okay. I would’ve put everyone in jeopardy to save you.”
Finn shook his head. “You’d never have done that. You’d have finished the job first. You’d give your life for any member of the team.” With an uncharacteristic uncertainty to his expression, Finn bi
t his bottom lip. “But we can’t pretend that this thing between us isn’t going to affect our work.”
“No, we can’t. So…” Sawyer moved in closer. “Here’s my answer.” He ran the pad of his thumb over Finn’s lower lip and the indentations left behind by his teeth. “I choose you. Us. Not the job.” He repeated the action with his thumb. “Whatever it takes, we’ll figure the rest out.”
A quick breath passed through Finn’s parted lips. “Are you sure?”
“I’m more than sure. You’re not just one of the guys I work with anymore, and I can’t keep pretending you don’t mean everything to me.”
When the last word left Sawyer’s lips, Finn came at him, fast and hard, and had him flattened to the shower wall in a heartbeat. Sawyer returned the kiss with as much intensity as Finn was giving him.
The heated water ran down their bodies as they held on to each other, as they clutched and rocked and rode out the immeasurable intensity of the moment, one that was so different from any other they’d shared. All those days on the job together, all those nights in each other’s bed, and Sawyer, not surprising considering his lack of experience, had not been prepared for the enormity of what he could feel for another person.
Amid the kissing, the grinding of wet body against body, they somehow managed to get the water cranked off and get themselves to the bedroom.
Sawyer shoved Finn down onto the bed. Without giving Finn a moment to catch his breath, he grabbed him by the hips and flipped him over. He advanced and got his tongue between Finn’s ass cheeks, pouring everything he felt for the man into that one connection, loving on him in that most intimate of ways.
“Holy fuck!” Finn cried out as he tucked one leg under him to give Sawyer better access. “I love when you do that.” He groaned, loud and long, and there was no better sound.
Sawyer loved hearing Finn whining and moaning, loved knowing it was him who was making that tough alpha male lose it. He quickened the swipe and swirl of his tongue, really going to town on Finn’s ass.
Finn pounded the bed with a clenched fist, buried his face in the mattress, and groaned louder. “God, don’t stop.” His words were a muffled plea.
Sawyer shifted up so he was lying over Finn’s body. He whispered in his ear, “I have to stop. So I can fuck you through the mattress.”
“God, yes!” Finn reached behind him and gripped Sawyer’s ass. “Now.”
Sawyer chuckled. “Always so bossy.” He lunged over Finn for the nightstand drawer. He got out the lube and sat up to slick his cock and Finn’s ass. They had ditched the condoms long ago when it was clear they’d been fucking only each other for months. Things had gotten monogamous between them long before they had the nerve to admit it to each other. Dumbasses.
But what did it matter now? He had Finn right where he wanted him. He lay back down over Finn’s outstretched body.
Finn looked back over his shoulder. “Kiss me.”
Hell, yeah. It was sloppy, all tongue and wet lips, the slick sounds permeating the dimly lit bedroom, and it was just about damn perfect.
But Sawyer had to end it. “I’m gonna fucking bust a nut here.”
Finn tucked his knee up higher under his body. “Do it.” The lust in his low voice told Sawyer that Finn wanted this as badly as he did. Hell, Finn had been hard and wanting before Sawyer even got there.
Sawyer lined his cock up with Finn’s ass. “Were you thinking about me doing this to you earlier in the shower?”
“Yes!”
With that one word, Sawyer drove forward. They both groaned in unison that time. He sank in farther and pulled back, wanting to drag this out but unsure if that was even an option. “I can’t…”
“Don’t.”
He took Finn at his word and plunged into him without finesse. Over and over. Nothing—nothing—felt like that. The way Finn met his every thrust, head down, hands fisting the bedsheets, pressing his ass into Sawyer’s movements with unbridled power and desire.
Sawyer jerked his hips faster, shoved into Finn harder. The headboard slammed against the wall with each drive forward. A new sound for Finn’s bedroom. Either the bed had moved or there was a new level of intensity to their sex.
That thought spurred Sawyer on. He draped himself over Finn, loving the feel of heated flesh against flesh, the sound of skin slapping skin. He reached around with one hand and gripped Finn’s shaft.
Finn groaned, and his fists tightened their hold on the sheets. “Yes. Sawyer.”
Hearing his name in that low moan nearly did Sawyer in. He tried with everything he was to hold off his orgasm, determined to hear Finn lose it first. He stroked him faster, squeezing the head of Finn’s cock with each pass, and Finn writhed under him, groaning loud as his release struck the sheets beneath them.
Sawyer kept on thrusting through the clench of Finn’s ass, and his own orgasm crashed into him like roaring waves pounding the surf over and over again. He threw his head back and grunted at the ceiling.
When his body finally stilled, he collapsed onto Finn, and they both fell to the bed. The scent of sex and sweat permeated the air. Sawyer grinned, his lips pressed to Finn’s shoulder blade.
They lay there for a long while, their bodies still connected, their rapid exhales the only sound between them. Sawyer didn’t want to give up the contact, not yet.
Eventually, when he was afraid he was going to suffocate Finn, he shifted off and lay on his side facing him. A minute later when Finn turned his head to look at him, Sawyer asked, “So what do we do now?”
Finn sighed and rolled to his back. “Talk to the commander.”
“Come clean?”
“Yeah.”
Sawyer thought about that for a moment. It was the right call. Maybe Weston would have a suggestion on how they could get out of this fucked-up work situation they found themselves in. “Okay.”
Finn looked shocked for a brief moment. Then he visibly relaxed. He raised his arms over his head and stretched. “Man, I could get used to this.”
“To what?”
“You’re not usually this…” He paused as if he was afraid admitting the next part would change something. “Affectionate.”
It was only then Sawyer realized he’d been running his fingertips back and forth across Finn’s chest. He kept it going for another minute, savoring the feel of Finn’s body, loving on him in a completely new way. He couldn’t keep away from him. It was that simple. He wanted to touch him, make him happy, offer him everything he had to give. With that thought, he let his fingertips sweep over Finn’s chest hair for a moment more. Then he sat up and slid closer so he was gazing down at Finn. “You know, I’m older than you.”
Finn’s brows rose. “Man, I must be slacking if I’ve let you forget that I know just how much older you are.” He laughed.
Sawyer didn’t. “I’m trying to be serious here. With the bullet wound, my leg isn’t exactly what it used to be.” He struggled to find the right words, then decided he just had to say it. “I think it should be me.”
“You?”
“Who transfers out of SWAT. I don’t have that many years left that they’ll let me stay in tactical anyway.”
“Right. You’re not that old.”
“Old enough. It should be me.” Sawyer turned away and got up. He went to the dresser and dug out two pairs of jeans. He tossed one to Finn and slipped on the other pair. He stood beside the bed, staring down at Finn. “I’ll talk to the commander tomorrow.”
“No.” Finn moved to sit on the other side of the bed and yanked the pants on up to his thighs. “It’s going to be me.”
“Why?”
Finn hesitated for a moment, his head down. Then he stood, tugged his jeans on the rest of the way, and faced Sawyer. “I want it to be me.”
“No way. You love the job.”
“I did. For a long time. But… lately I’ve been feeling like it’s time to do something else.” He gave a nod like the decision was final. “I want to take the detective
’s exam.”
Sawyer couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He took a step back, then paced the length of the room. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me this in the first place?”
“Because…” Finn shrugged as if he wasn’t going to say more. Then he added, “I wanted to know what I was giving up SWAT for.”
Sawyer stopped. His mouth fell open. “For us.”
“For a man who I now know wants me more than anything.”
He gaped at him some more. “You’re fucked up.”
Finn laughed. “Yeah. But before you said I was right about the job, it seemed impossible to even think about quitting SWAT. About leaving the guys, not working with you anymore. It’s part of who I am. I guess, subconsciously at least, I wanted to know that it wasn’t just me who’d make that sacrifice.”
Sawyer snorted out a laugh. “I say again, you’re fucked up.”
Finn laughed with him. Then he dropped to the bed, sitting with his back to Sawyer.
Sawyer sighed and rounded the bed to sit beside him. “I’m having a hard time believing you.”
“I’m telling you want I want. It’s the right time for me to go. And it’s not just because of us. I need a change.”
“You should’ve told me.”
“I know. I just wasn’t sure until now. The shooting, and later when you were lying in the hospital, it all got me thinking. About us. About my future. About why I took the SWAT gig in the first place. I’m not the same twenty-five-year-old adrenaline junkie I was back then.”
Sawyer snorted. “Are any of us?”
“No.” Finn examined him with genuine contemplation. “But the job still suits you. Maybe in a way it never did me.”
“That’s bullshit. You were made for it.”
“To be a cop? Yeah. The rest? I’m not sure anymore. I think I’m ready for something different.”
Sawyer shook his head. Were they really talking about this? “Man, it always sucks when someone leaves the unit, but you…” He shook his head again. “This is going to change everything for me.”
“And that’s why I have to go.”