Vision Of Love (Cold Case Detective Book 0)

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Vision Of Love (Cold Case Detective Book 0) Page 6

by Pandora Pine


  Going to see a movie right now was the last thing on his mind. He wanted to grab Carson’s hand and drag him out to the backseat of his Honda and get it on like sex-crazed teenagers.

  “A gift from Mr. Migliore.” Their waitress set a covered dish in front of Truman.

  “What’s this?” Truman shot a sly glance at Carson, who simply shrugged.

  “Why don’t you take the cover off and have a look. I bet it’s the crème brulee you had your eye on for dessert.”

  Truman did as Carson suggested. “Oh my, God, Carson!” He couldn’t believe his eyes, sitting in a box with tissue paper, next to the crème brulee, was one of the gorgeous glass angels he’d been admiring on the Christmas tree nearest to their table. “This was my favorite angel. How did you know?” Truman’s eyes had gone misty.

  “You can’t take your eyes off of your favorite things,” Carson said softly. “The macaroni and cheese bar, hot wings, me, that angel.”

  A lone tear slipped down his cheek. “I’ll treasure it always.” He looked up at the waitress. “Thank you so much.”

  Carson handed her his debit card and thanked her again.

  “I can’t believe you did all of this for me.” Truman’s eyes were glittering again.

  “I meant it earlier when I told you how lucky I was to be out with you tonight. You deserve the world on that platter, but all that would fit was that angel and our dessert.”

  “I love it, Carson.” What almost slipped out of his mouth was, “I love you, Carson,” but Truman managed to hold it back at the last possible minute.

  “What do you say we skip the movie tonight? I’m not really in the mood for popcorn.” Carson brushed a kiss over Truman’s jaw.

  “I was just thinking the same thing. Damn kernels always get stuck in my teeth anyway.” Holy God, it was like they were reading each other’s minds. Thank goodness he’d stocked up on condoms and lube when he’d gone shopping this morning.

  “You ready to go, sweetheart?” Carson held out his hand after they’d finished the last bite of dessert.

  Truman linked their fingers together. “I was born ready for you.”

  17

  Carson

  It was a relatively quiet ride back to Truman’s house. The car radio played White Christmas, by Bing Crosby, and Truman sang along with a surprisingly deep and bluesy voice. Carson wished the song had been playing on his iPod so he could have hit repeat and listened to Truman sing it all over again, this time from the beginning.

  Dinner couldn’t have gone any better. What Carson hadn’t known ahead of time was that the glass ornaments on the trees were designed to be given away to the restaurants’ patrons. All he had to do was describe the angel Truman had fallen in love with and it was his.

  If Carson lived to be one hundred. he’d never forget the look on Truman’s face when he lifted the lid off the dish and saw the sparkling glass angel. He’d never considered himself an overly thoughtful person in the past, but when it came to Truman, he found himself doing any and everything in his power to make that man happy.

  With the exception of telling the truth, the whole truth, so help him God. Carson knew the moment was coming when he had to tell Truman about the visions and what they revealed about the very near future, but he couldn’t do it. Not yet. Certainly not tonight. He pulled the car over to park in front of Truman’s Chevy. “Home, sweet home.”

  Truman leaned over and kissed him. “Spend the night with me, Carson.” It wasn’t a question.

  “God, you’re sexy when you tell me what to do,” Carson chuckled. “Just so happened I packed a just-in-case bag.”

  “What’s a just in case bag?” Truman kissed him again.

  “A bag packed with a toothbrush and clothes for tomorrow, just in case I get lucky tonight.”

  Truman snorted. “I got lucky the minute we met at the Workday Café. What an amazing coincidence, huh? The only seat left in the place was the one across from me.”

  Carson felt a stab of guilt go right through his heart. He kissed Truman hard, to hide the look in his eyes. He didn’t want Truman to be able to see the guilt shining brightly in his eyes like a lighthouse beacon. “I’m so lucky to have found you, babe.” That was the God’s honest truth. “Stay there.” He hopped out of the car and popped the trunk to grab his bag before opening the passenger door for Truman.

  Truman dug his keys out of his pocket as they walked together toward the front door. When he turned the key in the lock they could hear Sadie barking her little heart out.

  “I’m glad to hear she’s keeping your house safe for democracy.” Carson laughed. He hoped she didn’t sleep in Truman’s room with him. As cute as she was, there was nothing worse than a wet nose where it didn’t belong when you were trying to get it on.

  “Hello, Princess. Daddy and Carson are home.” Truman bent down to scratch her ears after setting his keys and the angel ornament box down on the hallway table.

  “Hi, Sadie.” Carson waved. He was unprepared a moment later when Truman shoved him back against the closed door and kissed him. While Truman ran his tongue along his lower lip, Carson grabbed his ass and pulled their bodies flush against each other.

  He heard the grating sound of metal on metal and just as quickly as the kiss started, it was over. Truman pulled his lips and the rest of him away. “Wait! Don’t go,” Carson half-whined.

  “Had to lock the door. You never know what crazies are hanging around outside.” Truman pulled the zipper down on Carson’s coat before shrugging out of his own jacket and hanging it on the coat rack next to the door. “You in the mood for a drink? Beer? Soda? Water?” Truman was halfway to the kitchen before Carson realized he was still leaning against the front door with his coat on.

  Is that what it was going to be like every time Truman kissed him? That dizzying, losing sight of where and who he was feeling? The man was a distraction, pure and simple, and that was with his clothes on. Naked, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold a thought at all.

  Shucking out of his coat, he headed toward the kitchen with Sadie trailing behind him. He could hear her nails clicking on the hardwood floor behind him. “So, what’s Sadie’s story?” He pulled out a wooden bar stool at the island watching as Truman arranged the daisies Carson had brought him.

  “My last boyfriend was a real tool. One of those perfectionist types who wouldn’t let me leave the house with him if there was a hair out of place or a fuzz ball on my sweater.” Truman went to the fridge and grabbed two bottles of water.

  Carson screwed the tops off both of them. He’d gone out with a fussy man like that before, always picking lint off his clothes or smoothing his hair. The man had bought him an iron for their one week anniversary present. Needless to say, there hadn’t been a second week anniversary.

  “Over time, that kind of nit-picking did a number on my self-confidence. After I finally found the courage to leave him, my younger sister, who is a mental health counselor, saw that I was struggling with anxiety. She suggested a dog might be good for helping me to get over that. I went to the local animal shelter and fell in love with Sadie the minute I saw her.”

  Carson looked down at the tiny dog who was staring up at him. He bent down and scooped her up. “You’re a sweet girl, aren’t you? Taking care of your Daddy like that.” He was rewarded with enthusiastic face licks.

  He could only hope Truman would be giving him the same kind of treatment a little later, only with better smelling breath. “How does a little cutie like this end up in an animal shelter?”

  Truman smiled fondly. “You know that old Bob Barker saying about having your pet spayed and neutered?”

  Carson nodded.

  “Sadie’s mother’s owner didn’t heed that warning. She played host to a gathering of Yorkshire Terrier owners of Greater Salem, and while the ladies were drinking tea and eating finger sandwiches,” Truman imitated taking a sip of tea with his pinkie high in the air, “someone’s dog was getting it on with Sadie’s mother.”
<
br />   Carson choked on his sip of water and started to cough. “Your Mommy got knocked up at a garden party. You poor little bastard.” He snuggled the dog tight.

  “At least she’s a purebred. Has her AKC papers and everything. I adopted her on the first day she was available at the shelter. There was only one of her siblings left out of five puppies and I found out the next day that he’d been adopted too.”

  “There’s one advantage to being gay at least.” Carson snickered, setting Sadie down. The little dog whined.

  “What’s that? Not being able to get knocked up at a garden party?” Truman laughed.

  Carson nodded, gripping Truman’s hips. “I know I’m just a guest in your home, but…” He inclined his head toward the ceiling.

  “I like the way you think.” Truman grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the stairs.

  Carson could hear Sadie’s trailing along behind them.

  “Stay, Princess.” Truman called over his shoulder.

  Carson couldn’t help raising his fist in victory. No wet noses where wet noses didn’t belong. Well, so long as Sadie obeyed Truman’s command.

  18

  Truman

  Truman pushed down the urge to take the steps two at a time. He’d also had to fight back his caveman instinct to throw Carson over his shoulder and carry him over his shoulder up the stairs, all the while shouting, “MINE!”

  He reached for his soon-to-be lover’s hand and tugged him down the short hallway. “Spare bedroom.” He pointed to the darkened room to the left of the staircase. “Bathroom.” Truman stopped to flip on the lights. “And this is my room. Are you sure about this?” Stopping just outside the door, he pulled Carson’s hands up to his lips and brushed kisses over his knuckles.

  “I’ve never been more sure about anything or anyone in my entire life, you handsome, handsome man.” Carson leaned up on tiptoes to kiss Truman. “Just so you know, I don’t usually do this.”

  “Do what? Flatter men to within an inch of their sanity?” Truman kissed him back. No man had ever said such sincere things like this to him before.

  Carson shook his head. “No, I don’t sleep with men I barely know. I know this is crazy, Truman, but it just feels so right with you.”

  “It isn’t crazy at all. I feel it too. Now get in here and take your pants off.” Truman flipped on the light and went for the buttons on his shirt.

  “Just my pants, boss, or everything?” Carson snorted and fisted his hands on his hips.

  Truman rolled his eyes and shouldered out of his shirt. He quickly hauled his white t-shirt over his head and stalked over to Carson who was staring at his bare chest with his mouth hanging open. “See something you like?”

  Carson sucked in a harsh breath before pressing a kiss to the smooth, bare skin over Truman’s heart. He looked up at Truman with misty eyes before kissing him again with a series of light, barely-there presses of his lips that felt more reverent than sexual. “God, you’re beautiful,” Carson whispered. He took a step back and hauled his sweater over his head.

  Truman watched while Carson slowly unbuttoned his own shirt and peeled it from his body. Carson was his type exactly. The man was shorter than him, with a light sprinkling of hair over his chest and stomach with slim hips that Carson was pushing his dark dress pants down with seeming deliberate slowness. He was wearing red briefs underneath. “Very seasonal.”

  Carson looked down as if he didn’t understand what Truman was talking about. “Oh, these old things.” He shrugged. “I was kind of hoping they’d end up in a pile on your bedroom floor.” He pushed them down to his feet and stepped out of them.

  Sucking in a rough breath Truman went for his belt. “I’m glad I could make your wish come true.” As hard as he was trying, he couldn’t seem to get his fingers to work his belt open.

  Carson chuckled. “My wish won’t have come true until this monster is fucking me into next week.” Carson stroked Truman’s bulge through his trousers, their eyes locked together. “Need a little help with your belt? Or do you want me to bring you off just like we’re a couple of horny teenagers?” Carson gave his erection a slight squeeze.

  All Truman could do was whimper.

  “There’s something about coming in your pants like a sixteen year old that’s really hot, huh?” Carson asked, his voice low and deep. While he stroked Truman with one hand, he used the other to open Truman’s belt. “Being so excited to be with someone new that you can’t hold on to that last shred of control.”

  His date had no idea how close to the truth he was. Truman’s control was hanging on by the thinnest thread. Only a few more strokes coupled with more sexy talk from Carson and he was going to blast off like a rocket.

  “You’re gonna come so many times tonight, Truman, that you’re gonna beg me to stop.” Carson undid the button and pulled down his zipper. He pushed Truman’s pants over his hips and let gravity pull them to the floor. “Nice, I like black boxer briefs.” Carson slowed down his hand over Truman’s shaft, chuckling again when his lover whimpered. “You need to come, don’t you?”

  “Jesus, Carson. Please.” He was never the kind of man to beg. Until tonight.

  “Well, since you asked so nicely.” Carson pressed a kiss to the dip in Truman’s collarbone and dropped to his knees, taking the black boxer briefs with him.

  “Oh, fuck me,” Truman moaned when Carson’s pink tongue licked out at the tip of his dick.

  Carson winked up at him. “It’s going to be you that’s going to be doing the fucking, Truman, after I swallow every drop of your creamy come.” He fondled both of Truman’s balls before taking his length into his mouth.

  “Oh, God, Carson!” Truman set his hands on Carson’s head, holding on for dear life, rather than directing him where to go. His lover knew exactly what to do and at what speed to do it. No other lover he’d ever been with had known how to do it like this, without having to be directed.

  Moaning like Truman’s cock was the best thing he ever tasted, Carson jacked his own dick along with the motion of his mouth. His eyes were locked on Truman’s as if he were unable to look away.

  Truman couldn’t look away even if he’d wanted to. There was something in Carson’s eyes that held him close. He was quickly losing the power to think or reason, but Truman thought he saw the rest of his life mapped out in those gorgeous blue orbs. “Carson, I’m…”

  He didn’t get a chance to finish his warning. Truman’s cock pulsed in Carson’s mouth. His hands tightened in his lover’s hair as he started to come. He moaned for his lover, crying out his name as his release overtook him. His eyes stayed open though, locked with Carson’s.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Carson was coming too. He could see stripes of his cooling release coating his chest.

  Pulling his now softening cock from Carson’s hot and wet mouth, Truman braced his hands on his knees. “I,” Truman snapped his mouth shut. It was way too soon to vocalize the other two words that had been about to follow close behind.

  Although, he got the distinct feeling Carson might not have thought it was too soon at all.

  19

  Carson

  Carson was lying sprawled across Truman’s naked chest. After round one, Carson had run downstairs to grab his just-in-case bag and had brushed his teeth. When he’d gone back into Truman’s room, his lover had been in bed with the lights turned out and candles lit.

  From his position on Truman’s left side, he could hear his lover’s heart beating. The beats were slow and steady now, but when he’d first laid down, they were faster and a bit irregular. If he could, Carson would keep Truman here for the next three weeks, safe and sound from that lunatic with a gun.

  “You’re so quiet. Are you okay?” Truman pressed a kiss to the top of Carson’s head.

  It felt like an icy fist was squeezing Carson’s heart. There was no way he could tell Truman what he’d just been thinking about. Instead, he nodded before looking up at his lover. “I was just thinking a
bout something.”

  “What’s that?” Truman sounded a little unsure of himself.

  Carson hated that tone in his voice. He didn’t want Truman to second guess anything about what they’d just done together or what they were about to do now. He sat up and moved to straddle his lover, his cock instantly roared back to life. “I distinctly remember you promising to fuck me into next week.”

  Truman snorted. “Uh, no. I remember you saying it was your wish for my monster cock to be fucking you into next week.”

  Carson rubbed his chin. “Did I say that?”

  “Yes! You did!” Truman laughed. “Is that your idea of a subtle hint?”

  Looking down, Carson could see Truman’s dick had also woken back up from its slumber. He slid his hand from root to tip. “No, this is my idea of a subtle hint. Is it working?”

  “I’m not sure. Do it a few more times and I’ll let you know.” Truman’s eyes darkened.

  “Tease.” Carson was content to spend the rest of the night like this with Truman. Anything to keep from seeing the vision again.

  When Truman had stripped off his white t-shirt and Carson had gotten a look at his bare chest for the first time, the vision had come back full-force. He’d seen Truman’s body jolt, seen his white dress shirt turn crimson, and he’d seen the light fade from Truman’s green eyes. Again.

  It had taken every ounce of will-power in his body not to confess everything then and there. He just wanted to tell Truman everything. Confess about the visions and beg for forgiveness.

  Somewhere between kissing his heart and sucking his dick, Carson had decided shutting up was the best plan. If he could find a way to keep Truman from going to that Christmas party, he could save Truman from the gunman’s bullet without him ever having to know how his life was supposed to end.

 

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