“Miguel.”
“Robert.”
There was desperation in his touch. Robert held him in his arms tightly, rolling his hips. Miguel’s big cock slid across his gland. He shuddered. Miguel rammed into him, harder and harder. The cold tile at his back abraded his skin. He didn’t care. He widened his stance, undulating to get more.
“Harder,” he moaned.
Miguel plowed into him even harder. His cock leaked fluid. Robert reached down and jerked himself in time with Miguel’s thrusts. His balls tightened, and he jerked as he came.
“Miguel!”
MIGUEL THRUST harder as Robert screamed his name. He held his lover and was thankful to be alive. He braced his hands against the tiles next to Robert’s head.
“Mine, mine, mine,” he grunted in time with his thrusts.
“Yours,” Robert echoed, wailing.
Robert continued to jerk his cock, keeping it hard. Miguel kissed him, spearing his tongue into his mouth. Robert growled, biting Miguel’s tongue. Miguel hissed and deepened the kiss, fucking Robert harder. Robert’s fingers dug into his arms. His shaft hardened and balls drew up. He pumped faster. With a roar, he came. Jets of semen spurted from him. His legs weakened as he continued to pump lazily into Robert.
Robert whimpered. Miguel reached between them and covered Robert’s hand. Miguel ran his thumb over the head of Robert’s cock. He pressed against the slit hard. Robert gasped and arched as he came again. Robert relaxed against him. Miguel purred, kissing the side of his face. Robert turned his head and they kissed.
After some time, he withdrew, and they got out of the shower. Miguel reached for a towel from the wrought iron stand by the shower. Robert took it from him and toweled him off. Miguel said nothing, letting Robert care for him. Robert toweled off quickly, then went to the wardrobe over by the Jacuzzi. He took out two robes. He shrugged into the dark blue garment and brought over the caramel-colored one. With gentle hands, Robert put it on Miguel, then laced fingers with him. He led him out into the bedroom.
“Let’s go to the solarium,” Miguel said.
Robert nodded, and they continued out into the hall. They passed the den, then went to the double doors that led to the open area. Robert opened the door, then tugged Miguel behind him. The profusion of flowers and fountains didn’t soothe him as they usually did. Robert led him to one of the lounge chairs that were in the huge open area. Miguel sat, and then Robert sat between his thighs, leaning back against his chest. Miguel rested his head back against the top of the chair.
They were quiet for a long time. Miguel thought Robert might have even gone to sleep. He hugged him closer. Robert’s hand stroked his arm.
“Is it bad that I’m glad it wasn’t you?” Robert asked quietly.
“No, querido. It isn’t. I’m glad it wasn’t me either. That’s all I could think about when I heard. All I wanted was to be home with you like this. The cap let me go early, since I was first on scene when they… when….” Miguel’s arms tightened around Robert, and tears pricked his eyes.
“Shh… honey,” Robert said, turning and kissing his cheek.
He cleared his throat, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. Robert shifted and straddled him.
“Oh, Miguel,” he said.
“I’m such a fucking shit for thinking that. I felt so bad for it, but—” He stopped.
“Shh… it’s okay,” Robert murmured and kissed him.
Miguel knew it wasn’t, and there was nothing he could do to change it. They would have the funeral, mourn, and go back to work. It’s what they did. It was a cop’s life. They knew every time they donned the uniform their lives were in danger. Yet, until today, he’d never thought about how much he had to lose. Robert was in his life now, and he didn’t want to miss anything with him. A thought occurred to him. He looked at Robert.
“As soon as we can, we’re going to talk with Hector about drawing up papers. I’m going to make sure you’re protected in case anything happens to me.” Miguel cupped his cheeks.
Robert didn’t look pleased by his statement.
“I don’t want to think of leaving you either, but I need to do this,” Miguel said fiercely.
“Okay,” Robert said reluctantly. Then he added, “I’ll do the same in case something happens to me.”
“Yeah, in case you get a paper cut.” Miguel snorted.
“Hey, those things are vicious.” Robert smacked him.
Miguel chuckled and cuddled him close. He kissed the top of Robert’s head.
“Thanks for being here, querido,” he whispered.
“Anytime, honey. Anytime,” Robert replied.
Miguel sighed and held Robert until he fell asleep. As he looked out at the beach beyond the solarium windows, he said a quick prayer, thankful for all he had.
“HONEY, ARE….” Robert’s voice trailed off.
Turning to face him, Miguel watched his lover. A glazed look was in Robert’s eyes. On any other day, he would have walked over to kiss him and take him to bed. Any other day, when he wasn’t facing the one thing he dreaded the most—laying a friend to eternal rest. Robert walked over to him. He smoothed his hands over Miguel’s dress uniform.
“You look so good, Miguel. Are you ready?” he asked.
Miguel nodded. Robert kissed him gently and linked his fingers with Miguel’s. He took a breath and went with Robert to face burying his friend. At the funeral, Miguel listened to all the words of loss. Of what kind of man Provenza was. All Miguel could think is, “And now he’s gone.”
Miguel glanced over at Harper, who sat by his side. he man was stiff, and his eyes dry. Miguel leaned back and met Ramirez’s look of concern. They had been with him for the last few days, and he hadn’t shed a tear, slept, or eaten. It had to stop. Miguel nodded to Ramirez, and Ramirez nodded back. Miguel faced forward again. Robert squeezed his hand. Miguel squeezed back.
When the service was done, Miguel put on his mirrored shades, then went to take his place at the head of the casket. Ramirez was on the other side, Hill and Ollie behind him. Longoria and Tomas were at the rear. They lifted the casket that bore their friend and carried him down the aisle and out of the church. They passed under the rifles that were crossed over their heads. Miguel rested the casket at the lip of the bumper, and they slid it in. He waited as it disappeared, and the door closed. He joined Robert, and they went into the limo with Harper and Ramirez.
No words were spoken as they drove to the cemetery. They repeated the order as they took Provenza’s casket out and took it to the burial site. Setting it down gently, Miguel stepped back and went to sit next to Harper. Ramirez sat on his other side. Miguel reached over and gripped Robert’s hand. Dry-eyed, he listened as they did the graveside service. It was brief and poignant. As the mourners put flowers on the casket and said a few words, Miguel tuned it all out.
None of it mattered. Provenza was gone. He glanced at Harper and saw the grief he refused to let out etched on his face. As they had planned, they waited until the other mourners had left. Miguel glanced at the men he called friends, and his brothers, their poker buddies and those who were there whenever they were needed. On each of their faces, he saw the same grief, though not a tear was seen. He noted Ramirez had left. He and Robert stood, then each went to help Harper. He shook them off and walked away, still stiff.
Grim, Miguel followed. The sound of thunder reached his ears. Harper stopped, then listened. He stiffened. Miguel looked to the right. The sound came closer. When the first one came into view, Harper looked back at Miguel, the anger plain on his face. Miguel watched him coolly. He looked away and back at the road. The lead rider popped a wheelie, and the others joined him, one by one. They revved their engines.
“What’s going on?” Robert asked next to him.
“Provenza’s last wish.”
“Why now? He can’t take this.” Robert shook his head.
“He needs this,” Miguel countered.
“I don’t understand.”
/> “Provenza resisted Harper’s bargaining for over a year for them to get Harleys and join a bike club. He feared they would get hurt. He finally caved and commissioned a bike for himself and Harper. He even got Ramirez to join in and learn to ride. He was waiting to give Harper the bike and the club membership for his birthday.” His tone was cool.
“And why does this have to be done today?” Robert demanded.
“His birthday is tomorrow.”
“What? Why didn’t he have the funeral later? He doesn’t need this. Not today.”
“He does. He keeps saying he’s fine. He’s not. Provenza knew he would do this. They had been together for over ten years. He knew what Harper would do. He begged us, Ramirez and me, as he lay dying, to give him this, on the day of his funeral. He knew that Harper would shut down, and he didn’t want it. He wanted him to feel. Mourn for him. Most of all, he wanted him to live. ” This was said in that same flat tone Miguel had been using.
He could not feel anything at this moment. Robert leaned against his side, silent. Miguel watched as the men on the Harleys came closer. He knew there were thirty-six of them. One for each year Provenza had lived. The lead biker dropped the bike back on the street and rode to them. He stopped, and they all stopped behind him. The helmeted driver got off and walked over to Harper. His mirrored visor covered his face, and he was dressed in all leather. If Miguel hadn’t known who it was, there would have been no way to identify him.
“Who is that?” Robert asked quietly.
“Maestro. He built the bike for Provenza. He flew back from his trip to Spain to be here. To do this last request for Provenza.”
Another man joined Maestro. He took off his helmet. Miguel stared at Ramirez.
“Harper, Provenza said to tell you ‘Happy Birthday.’ He had the bike you wanted made and even joined the bike club. He loves you and will be with you always.” Ramirez’s voice was thick.
“Fuck you!” Harper screamed, hitting Ramirez.
Ramirez took it. Harper swung and hit Maestro. He turned and looked at Miguel. There was such rage burning in his gaze. Miguel stepped toward him.
“He wants you to live, Harper. Live and feel.”
Harper took a shaky step toward him. Then he took another, and then he wailed. He collapsed. Miguel rushed forward, catching him before he hit the ground. Miguel dropped to his knees and held him. Another set of arms came around them. Miguel looked up and saw Ramirez. The tears rained from his eyes. Miguel watched him dispassionately. They stayed there, holding Harper as he cried and grieved.
A long while later, they helped a shaking Harper onto the back of the bike behind Ramirez. Miguel nodded to him and stepped back. The bikers started their engines, then took off. Robert touched Miguel’s back. Silently, he watched as the other men left. They were all heading to Harper and Provenza’s. Miguel turned to head for the limo. He got in and looked out the window. Robert settled beside him. They pulled out. Robert touched his shoulder.
Turning to him, Miguel met his eyes. His heart pounded, and his throat closed. Miguel dropped his head to Robert’s lap and held him around the waist. He wept as they drove to finish the last ritual to say goodbye to his friend.
“MIGUEL.” HE jumped at the sound of his name.
Turning his head to the side of the bed, he noticed Robert standing there. Robert got on the bed next to him. He shifted until his head was in Robert’s lap. Robert played with his hair. He closed his eyes.
“I’m worried about you,” Robert said softly.
“I’m okay, querido.”
“No, you’re not, Miguel.” Robert’s tone was fierce.
“I’ll be okay. Once I go back to work tomorrow,” Miguel promised.
“You can’t promise that,” Robert whispered, his voice raw.
Miguel looked up at him. The fear in Robert’s gaze made his heart clenched. Miguel sat up and hugged him. Robert held him fiercely. He shook.
“It’s okay, querido,” Miguel soothed.
“No, it’s not. Provenza is dead. Harper is a mess. Ramirez is no better. And you’re going back to that job that caused all this.” Robert pushed him away furiously.
He got up and started to pace.
Miguel sat up and caught him. He pulled Robert between his spread thighs.
“Ah, querido. It’s not the job. It was the stupid punk with the gun,” he said gently.
“I know that here,” Robert said, pointing to his head. “But here….” He put his hand over his heart. “I don’t want you to go back. I could lose you. Oh, God. I could lose you. Provenza is gone. Oh, God,” Robert cried.
Miguel came out of the fog he had been in and realized that he was mourning, but so was Robert. He cupped Robert’s cheeks. He put his forehead against Robert’s.
“I’ve got you, querido,” he murmured.
He moved back and pulled Robert against his body. They lay together. He held Robert as he cried. Putting his face against Robert’s hair, Miguel cried too. A long while later, Miguel cuddled Robert.
“I know it’s your job, but I’m scared that I’ll lose you,” Robert said.
“I could be run over by a car, or just drop dead.”
“That’s a cheery thought,” Robert groused.
“It’s the truth, querido. Yes, my job is dangerous. I’m careful. If….” Miguel cleared his throat. “If something happens to me, I’ll always be here for you.” He put his hand over Robert’s heart.
Robert gripped his hand. “Promise me that you’ll be careful. Very careful.”
“I will, querido. I will.”
Robert sighed and leaned into him. Miguel watched over him as he slept.
The next morning he got dressed, kissed Robert, and went back to work. Walking into the station, he nodded at the desk sergeant, then went upstairs. He went to his desk. Glancing over at Provenza’s empty desk, he missed him. He met Ramirez’s gaze, and they walked to roll call. Afterward, they went to their cars.
As they parted, Ramirez put out his hand. “Be safe out there. Keep sharp.”
“You too,” Miguel said.
Ramirez nodded and put on his shades. Miguel got in his car and drove to start his patrol.
Chapter Eight
WIPING HIS grimy face and hands, Miguel unhooked the cell from his pants.
“Yo.”
“Hey, sexy. Are you hot and sweaty?” Robert asked in a sultry voice.
“Of course I am. You would be, too, if you hadn’t bailed on me.” Miguel looked down at his sweat-stained T-shirt and holey jeans.
“I know, honey. Sorry. I had to go to the office for those files. I’m on my way home now. I’m just getting some Daiquiri mix from the liquor store close to Smulders. You want anything?”
Robert sounded guilty as hell. Miguel leaned back against the wall. He wasn’t above taking advantage.
“Pick me up some Mango Cruzan Rum,” he said.
He would get Robert a little tipsy, then have some fun with him. They had a whole bottle of caramel sauce. Miguel grinned wickedly, rubbing his cock through his jeans.
“You trying to get me drunk, honey? You know what Cruzan does to me,” Robert moaned.
“I know. Get it, querido. We have caramel sauce that will go good with it,” Miguel purred.
“You wicked, wicked man. I’ll be home in a few. Love you.” Robert hung up.
He looked down at the phone “Gosh, someone’s in a hurry. He didn’t even let me say love you back.”
Miguel laughed wickedly and got up. He glanced at the chest of drawers he was refurbishing. He had already put away his things. Quickly, he went into the house. He put his cell on the island on the way to the bathroom on the main floor. He took a quick shower, then dressed in a new T-shirt and jeans. He could be naked when Robert came home, but he wanted to tease. Whistling, he went back to the kitchen. Getting a glass, he poured some juice from the fridge. Leaning against the island, he absently looked at the clock. Twenty minutes had passed already. Robert should have arrived
by now. Frowning, he picked up his cell. Six missed calls flashed on the screen. He checked the numbers, and they were all from the same person.
He was about to press the button to redial as the doorbell rang. He grinned. Robert was home. He headed toward the sound. The phone rang as he reached the door. He picked it up.
Longoria’s solemn voice came across the line. “Miguel, I’ve been trying to reach you, man.” Miguel knew that tone. His ears started to buzz. The bell rang again. He yanked the door open as Longoria spoke again.
“You need to come to the hospital. Robert’s been shot.”
The phone fell from his hand. Stricken, his knees went weak. Hard arms grabbed him before he could fall. He looked up into pale-gray, red-rimmed eyes.
“Robert,” he whispered.
“Come on, Miguel. We have to go. Where are your keys?” Alex asked.
Miguel gestured to the hook by the door. Alex shifted and got them.
“Can you stand?”
Numbly, he stood, shaking. Alex got Miguel’s phone and spoke to Longoria. Miguel didn’t hear what was said. Alex hung up and touched Miguel’s arm.
“Let’s go, Miguel,” Alex said, his voice shaking.
Miguel looked at him. Alex was shaking, and tears were streaming down his face. He took the keys from him and strode out the door.
“Miguel, you’re in no shape to drive.”
“I’m driving, Alex. Get in the fucking car. Where did they take him?” He got in the car.
Alex got in, buckled up, and told him. Miguel buckled up, cranked the car, and sped out of the driveway. As he drove, all he could hear was Longoria’s voice echoing that Robert had been shot.
I’m the cop. I’m the one who gets shot at. How the hell did he get shot? Please let him be okay.
He screeched into the hospital lot and parked in front of the ER. Miguel jumped out of the car and ran inside. Longoria was the first person he saw. He gripped his arms.
Something in Common (Dreamspinner Press Bundles) Page 12