by Eden Cole
Protect and Serve
Copyright © August 2011 Eden Cole, Risky Ink
Cover Art by Risky Ink
ISBN: 978-1-937394-06-6
All rights are reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Jake nursed his beer, swirling the contents in a circle while he watched the group on the other side of the bar. This place was a favorite hangout for both cops and lawyers, but District Attorney Ross Turner didn’t usually grace them with his presence. Too uppity for that, he’d always assumed. Tonight Ross laughed with his friends looking carefree and easygoing. Never mind they’d just lost a very important case, one for which he’d been gathering evidence for the past year and a half. Melman Jones had been a medium-sized fish on a very big pond, and if they had managed to make his drug charges stick, there was a good chance they could use him to hook the big boys—the guys behind the scenes pulling all the strings.
When another shout of laughter broke out, Jake gritted his teeth and slammed his beer down on the table. He scraped his chair back, but one his fellow officers grabbed his arm. “Don’t do it, Jake. Just forget it,” Sam, an ex-partner told him. “You win some; you lose some. That’s how it goes. We’ll get his ass next time.”
Jake sneered. “Don’t you get it? He’ll disappear. We won’t see Jones ever again, and someone new will take his place. We’ll have to start over and gather new evidence. You think the guys higher up won’t believe he rolled over on them?” He stood. “No, it’s done, and it’s that asshole’s fault.”
Once upon a time, he and Sam were lovers. Neither of them were out of the closet, and that’s how they preferred it. But their relationship hadn’t worked out, and Jake had been the one to call it quits. He knew Sam had been hurt. They remained friends, but when Jake looked in the man’s eyes, he had the feeling Sam would come back with one signal from Jake. That would never happen, and it was just one more lump of stress to the ball in his stomach which was probably creating an ulcer as he spoke.
With determination in his steps, he walked over to the table of lawyers. All of them were in expensive suits and ties—loosened because the long day of work was over, but still they were spiffy. And all of them were smart, smarter than Jake. He admitted that, and usually it didn’t bother him.
“You know you fucked up that case, don’t you?” he spat in Ross Turner’s direction.
All heads turned, eyes on him. Turner’s dark brows rose. Everything about him was dark—black hair, eyes, even black suits. They called him the Midnight DA behind his back. Jake thought it fit, except when Ross smiled. Then women were falling over themselves to do his bidding. His assistants were half in love with him, and he even had a few politicians who acted like they couldn’t make a move without his approval. Still, Jake was pretty sure Ross was an oxymoron—an honest lawyer.
“Excuse me?” Ross commented in his deep, rumbling tone.
“We had him dead to rights on that drug charge,” Jake said, irritated that he always noticed too much about the straight counselor, “but you blew it when it came down to getting the charges to stick.”
One of the men tried to step into Jake’s face. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Ross pulled him back and took his place. “If you cops would do your job right, we could do ours when we go to court.”
“Is that right?” Jake stepped closer. They were almost chest to chest.
“Yes, that’s right,” Ross continued. “Ever heard of procedure? Like when the suspect asks for a lawyer, you get him his lawyer.”
“I was trying to get a confession,” he pushed through clenched teeth.
Ross’s eyes seemed to grow darker, and yet still appeared calm, something that was always a challenge for Jake. “And you got it,” he said with heavy sarcasm. “But look how far it took you. He’s back on the streets.”
Jake raised a fist about to smash it into this arrogant prick’s mouth, and from the look of it, Ross seemed more than ready to take him on. Before they could clash physically, two men came between them and pushed them back. Jake discovered Sam standing in front of him with his hands on his chest.
“Calm down, Jake,” Sam said. Jake shook his hands off and retreated. He glared at Ross as he allowed his friends to lead him to the exit. Jake did an about face and headed to the bar. He slapped a few bills on the counter and ordered another beer. Sam walked up and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry. I think—”
“Not, now,” Jake growled. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He waited for his friend to get the message that he wanted to be left alone, and at last Sam sighed in defeat. He nodded.
“Okay, Jake. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He joined the other cops in their section of the bar, and Jake continued to down his beer. The other guys knew him well enough that when he was in this kind of mood, they should steer clear. He took his job seriously, and he didn’t need that idiot pissing all over his hard work.
When he’d consumed six beers, he figured it was time to go, and he paid his tab before stumbling for the door.
“Need a ride, Jake?” the bartender called. He didn’t answer but waved a hand and headed out the door, the jingling bell above making him want to put a bullet in it.
The cool night air cleared his head some, and he paused on the sidewalk glancing up and down the street. Even though he felt he could handle it, he didn’t make a habit of drinking and driving. That night he had considered asking Sam for a ride home, but that might have given him ideas. Figuring he was in for a good long walk, Jake stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked south on Curzon Street.
Wind and drizzle from a coming storm began to buffet him, and he rethought his decision not to get a ride. Any of those guys back there would have been glad to do it. The problem was he didn’t want to go home. Since he’d broken off things with Sam, he hadn’t been seeing anyone, and it felt damn lonely. Aside from that he was sick of jerking himself off.
The biggest issue of course was that it wasn’t easy finding a man, not in this city. Guys on the force were just as tight-lipped about their sexuality as those in the military. If he wanted to find his life a living hell, then he’d come out. And being a part of that whole uncovering of the small Al-Qaeda cell last year didn’t help matters either. Along with a few others, he was commended by the mayor, even appeared on the news. He couldn’t just walk into a gay bar or come on to any attractive man he saw.
Frustration made him pause at the corner and turn to look back over his shoulder. Maybe he shouldn’t have broken things off with Sam. At least they knew neither was going to rat the other out. But Jake had ended it because Sam’s feelings were getting warmer, and he knew he would never fall for the guy like that. Hell, maybe he would never fall in love.
A pair of dark eyes popped into his head, and he grunted. Okay, fine, I think he’s good-looking. So what? I hate his guts.
While he was still arguing with himself about his attraction to Ross, a horn sounded to his right, and he glanced over to spot a newer model BMW. Jake recognized it, and his frown deepened. What did he want?
The car stopped in front of him and the tinted window on the passenger side rolled down. Jake gritted his teeth and peered inside. Ross’s handsome face held a smirk. “Need a ride?”
Fuck you, was on the tip of Jake’s tongue, but he held it back. The fact was, the temperature had dropped several degrees since he’d been standing there, and the light drizzle had picked up. He had a long way to go to get home, and if he’d been fully sober when he left the bar, he never would have attempted the walk.
“Fine, thanks,” he said grudgingly, and
climbed into the vehicle. The minute he did and shut the door, Ross’s subtle cologne and general male scent assaulted his nose. Jake had to shift his position a little to hide his sudden hard-on. He was glad for the dark interior of the car.
“So if I’m not mistaken, you live in DistrictHeights, correct?” Ross said as he pulled away from the curb.
Jake grunted. “Everyone can’t afford to live on the ritzy side of town like you.”
Ross’s lips tightened, but he said no more. Out of the corner of his eye, Jake watched his hands on the steering wheel. They were big and strong. Thick veins popped out on the backs, and he wondered what those hands would feel like wrapped around his cock. For that matter, he bet Ross’s lips would feel good down there too.
Damn it, Jake, get your mind off of that. This is your enemy. He wasn’t really. For the most part the police and the DA’s office worked together to bring down crime, but he and Ross had never seen eye-to-eye on any of the city’s problems. Their interactions, just like tonight at the bar, had always been more argument than discussion. He couldn’t help how this pompous ass set his temper off.
And I can’t help how bad I want to get in his pants. Fuck!
“I was thinking about what you said earlier,” Ross commented.
Jake put his hand to the bridge of his nose and pinched. “Don’t. I’m not in the mood to get into another argument with you.”
“We don’t have to argue.”
“No, we don’t as long as I agree with you, right? I know you have a lot of people in your pocket,” Jake snapped. “I had to work hard to get where I am.”
“What are you accusing me of?” Ross’s dark eyes left the road and the red light ahead, and he focused on Jake. A flash of anger appeared in their depths, but just like always, that was the only indication of his feeling. His handsome face remained peaceful, and it pissed Jake off.
Jake sneered. “Just look at you. You get by on your looks. Everybody’s bending over backward to please the young, brilliant DA. Have you ever sweated for shit in your life? I handed you Melman Jones, and you fucked it up.”
While Jake ranted, Ross had taken off at the green light, but at Jake’s last words, the car swerved, and Ross slammed on breaks. He threw the car in park and grabbed a fistful of Jake’s jacket, taking him by surprise.
“Look, Detective Jake Matthews, if you don’t feel good about yourself, that’s your own problem. Not mine. I don’t have to be less just because you don’t feel worthy. Got it?”
Jake’s temper flared all the more. For the first time, he’d set the ordered DA off, and he welcomed it. When he grabbed the man’s wrists though, he expected to free himself of the hold with a small tug. Ross’s strength shocked him.
“Get your hands off me,” he commanded.
Ross didn’t budge. They struggled, each trying to get the upper hand. Ross pushed him back against the door, but Jake doubled his efforts and shoved forward. Neither of them wore seatbelts which wasn’t safe, but Jake was used to not wearing one. Most of the cops who needed to bound from their vehicles at the drop of a hat didn’t. Ross had no such excuse.
They continued to scuffle back and forth, Jake trying to both break Ross’s hold while getting a strong one of his own. First he thumped against the door, and then he sent Ross against his. Several times, the DA got the better of him, and in the last instance, they were nose to nose. Once more, Jake was overwhelmed with Ross’s scent, which teased his senses until his cock was rock solid, and his head grew cloudy with desire.
They glared into each other’s eyes, but Jake’s was more about how it irritated him to want this guy. He had to get space between them before Ross felt how excited he was. “It wouldn’t be the first time a DA was on the take.”
The reaction he expected wasn’t the one he got. Ross’s eyes narrowed, and his hold tightened. Jake thought he was preparing to punch him, and he readied himself to take it since he didn’t think he could get a hand up to block in time. What took him off guard was when instead of hitting him, Ross covered Jake’s mouth with his. Jake reacted on instinct. He parted his lips and kissed back. Their tongues met at the tip and licked at each other. Before Jake knew what he was doing, he leaned in closer and moaned as he tasted the lips he’d been fantasizing about for a long time.
Alarm bells went off in his head, and he jerked his mouth away and turned his head. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The fact that he panted between each word was a dead giveaway to his feelings, and he tried to rein it in.
Ross stared at him a moment and then let him go. He dropped into his seat and pulled the car back onto the road. “I was doing what you’ve wanted to do for a while.”
“Like hell I have! What you do in your private life doesn’t concern me. What does is when you throw yourself on me and—”
“Push my tongue into your mouth and moan?” Ross finished.
Jake clamped his mouth shut. He’d been the one to do that, push his tongue into Ross’s mouth, and he’d moaned. He was an idiot, and now what would this do to his reputation? How would the guys down at the precinct view him? That’s what he got for lusting over the wrong man. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Ross’s hand rested on his thigh, and Jake froze. Okay, the kiss could have been…well, he didn’t know what the kiss could have meant on the counselor’s side of things, but touching his thigh like this… His cock shifted in his pants, but he knew it wasn’t visible on the dark street they passed along.
“I’ve seen you watching me,” Ross said. At Jake’s protest, he chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ve picked up on it only because I’ve been watching you. Maybe a lot longer than you’ve been looking my way. You had something going with Sam Melroy, didn’t you? Okay, you don’t have to answer that. We’ve been at each other’s throats for years. I always felt that underneath it all, there was something there. Something we could check out if we dared. That’s why I came back for you tonight.”
A feather could have blown Jake away he was at such a loss for words. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This couldn’t be true. Maybe Ross was getting back at him for disrespecting him in front of his lawyer friends. If he’d figured it out about Sam, maybe others had, and they were out to make him look like a fool.
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing at, Turner, but…”
Ross ran his thumb over Jake’s cock and stroked it to the point that Jake felt like he was going to come in his pants. “I pride myself on not being wrong once I make an assessment about a person. I’m not wrong about you. You can call it arrogance and thinking I’m better, but you want me. It’s clear in how hard your dick is right now. Tell me again that I’m lying, and I won’t take you home to my bed.”
Jake swore for the millionth time. No man would touch another man’s cock just to get back at him for being gay. The fact was he’d been so busy worrying about Ross seeing his hard-on, he hadn’t checked the DA’s pants. They’d stopped at another light, and this time, illumination from a streetlight shined in the car. A blind man couldn’t miss the tent on the front of Ross’s slacks, and Jake found his mouth watering to find out what he looked like naked.
“Okay,” Jake conceded. “Your place.”
Ross nodded and swung a one-eighty to speed across town to his house. Jake had been right about the man living among the upper crust in their society. Not that Jake didn’t make okay money. He’d invested well over the years and saved a lot since he had no family to care for. He was an only child, and his parents lived off of his dad’s pension plus his own investments. Jake considered himself comfortable middle class.
When they drew up to the gated community, he got a good feel for how the other half lived. Before Ross became the DA, he’d had a successful law practice. The mini-mansion sized houses in this development showed he’d done well for himself. Jake had never believed he was on the take. He’d just wanted to piss Ross off. He was a good judge of a man’s integrity, and Ross was good people. The gay part was a whole other
thing. He’d never have guessed.
Ross pressed a button overhead, and the garage door opened. They slid in easily in the midst of the most organized space Jake had ever laid eyes on. He considered his small shed out back of his property. That was a study in chaos. The fact that Ross liked everything in its place didn’t surprise him.
“Would you like a drink?” Ross offered once they were in his living room. He looked at Jake and frowned. “Scratch that. You’ve probably had enough.”
Jake stuffed his hands in his pockets. He was having a hard time letting go of the animosity he’d been hiding behind for years dealing with this guy. All that time, somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d told himself he couldn’t have him. Not that he’d ever seen Ross flaunting women around, but he’d figured that had to do with him valuing his reputation. Jake knew in his line of work, he had to be above reproach or find himself out of a job.
“Are we really doing this?” Jake asked.
Ross had poured himself a finger of scotch and downed it in one swallow. He set the glass aside and walked toward Jake. Out of habit, Jake spread his legs and took a firm stance. The amusement in the other man’s gaze annoyed him, but as soon as Ross laid strong fingers at his hips, he forgot the anger. Desire took its place.
“If you really want to fight me,” Ross murmured against his lips, “you can do it in bed.”
The noise of their hungry kisses permeated the air. Jake’s cock strained in his pants. He caught his breath when Ross began stroking it and then lowered the zipper. They both looked down to watch as Ross opened the sides of his slacks and reached inside his boxers. Jake couldn’t help hoping Ross would be impressed with his size, and by the low moan, he figured he was.
Ross kissed him once more and stepped back. “Come on. Let’s take a shower first.”
Jake followed him up the stairs, their steps muffled in the thick carpet. The bedroom lay beyond double French doors, and all the furniture was of the heavy kind probably worth more than he could spend on one room. But his eyes didn’t linger on the décor once Ross slipped his shirt off facing away from him. A tattoo of a bird with its wings opened was inked just behind his right shoulder. The skin was smooth and tanned, toned all the way down to the curve of his ass as he slipped out of his pants and underwear.