by K. C. Burn
Without much gentleness or finesse, he devoured Drew’s mouth like a starving man. Cupping Drew’s firm ass, he pressed their cocks together, moaning into Drew’s mouth at the pressure. The fear of losing Drew had morphed into a desire so fierce Cliff felt as though he hadn’t come in months. Years, even.
Panting, Drew pulled back, pupils dilated, lips open, wet, and inviting. “Wait, wait,” he said breathlessly.
“I can’t wait.” Cliff pulled Drew’s T-shirt off, then fumbled with his fly. Drew’s hips jerked as though trying to coax Cliff’s hands lower.
“But…don’t you need to sleep? You must be tired.”
The adrenaline from imagining their breakup had effectively amped him up. No doubt he’d sleep like the dead after he came, but now? He needed to have Drew again. Reassure himself like a barbarian that he hadn’t lost his man.
“Not too tired to fuck you through the mattress.” Cliff yanked down Drew’s jeans and briefs in one quick swoop, revealing his ruddy erection, precum already slicking the tip. Only then did Cliff notice he was still wearing his uniform, and his gorgeous boyfriend’s skin appeared extra pale in contrast to the dark green. “Bedroom. Now.” He spun Drew around and gave him a slap on the ass, the slight sting on his palm making his cock throb in his uniform pants.
Drew sprinted, and Cliff sped after him.
“Hands and knees.”
Obeying with alacrity, Drew revealed a pinkish spot on the buttock Cliff had slapped, and Cliff shuddered as lust swamped him. Drew twisted his head so he could see Cliff over his shoulder, and Cliff grinned before unzipping his fly and pulling out his eager cock.
“You…” Drew blinked. “What about your uniform?”
“I can’t wait. I need you.” Cliff wasn’t quite that far gone, but he remembered how hot Drew had been, blowing him while he was in uniform.
Drew whimpered and couldn’t take his eyes off Cliff. “Hurry, goddammit. You’re making me crazy.”
God. There was something so utterly decadent about Drew being completely naked while only Cliff’s cock was exposed, hard and wanting.
As if he were competing in an Olympic sport, Cliff had himself gloved and slicked in record time, before prepping Drew.
He’d be forever thankful Drew was his.
“Fuck me, North.” Drew’s demand came out as a needy whine, and Cliff didn’t have the willpower to resist. Drew naked and calling him North turned him on something fierce.
He slid inside Drew’s welcoming body as they simultaneously groaned. There wasn’t even a chance he could tease Drew, because he was too fucking close to blowing.
“You are the sexiest guy on the planet.”
Drew’s response was a frustrated growl that morphed into a moan as Cliff’s fingers dug into his flanks. There was no buildup; Cliff’s hips just started at a frantic pace, Drew’s plaintive sounds only spurring him on.
Embarrassingly fast, his balls pulled tight against his body. He wanted to hold on long enough for Drew to come, but he didn’t think he could.
“Oh God, I’m going to come,” Cliff groaned out.
The words must have triggered Drew, because just as Cliff’s orgasm sparked, Drew’s ass clamped down on Cliff’s jerking cock. Throat aching from the force of his shout, he slumped over Drew’s back, lips tasting the salty, clean sweat of his man.
When he could breathe again, and they’d cleaned up a bit, Cliff lay on the bed facing Drew in what was quickly becoming his favorite position. He was truly at home, and he was looking forward to building a life with Drew.
In the whirlwind craziness of arresting the mayor, Cliff realized he’d forgotten something. “Hey, how did you know about the paths to the preservation areas?”
In a flash, the pale skin of Drew’s face and chest flushed pink. It was so similar to the sex flush Drew got when he was aroused that Cliff’s dick tried to rouse in response, but judging from Drew’s abashed expression, the source was embarrassing.
“Um.”
“C’mon. After all we’ve been through, you should be able to tell me anything.”
Drew bit his lip, which only encouraged Cliff’s unruly dick.
“I… You… It was because of you that I figured out I was gay, and I may have sneaked onto your property a time or two, hoping to get a glimpse of you.”
Cliff couldn’t keep a few sputters of laughter from escaping. “And did you get a glimpse of anything good?”
“No, dammit.” Drew sounded so aggrieved, which was even funnier since Cliff was right in front of him, stark naked and almost ready to fuck him into a stupor.
“Good thing I locked you down early.”
Drew finally met Cliff’s gaze. “What do you mean? Aren’t you…weirded out?”
Cliff shrugged. “Maybe if I knew you back then. But seriously, if it hadn’t been for that, maybe I would have come back here and found you in a relationship.”
Cheeks darkening, Drew scowled. “I wasn’t exactly waiting for you.”
Brushing his thumb over Drew’s adorable pout, Cliff smiled. “I’m not saying you were. Did I tell you about the first time I saw you?”
Confused, Drew shook his head.
“In the Publix parking lot, before my first shift. You were buying peanut butter and bread, and I wanted nothing more than to find out if you were gay and available. If you hadn’t been, my life would be…so empty.”
Just like that, Drew’s embarrassment faded, and his sweet smile was one Cliff wanted to see every day for the rest of his life. But it was too soon to talk about that kind of permanence, so he concentrated on bringing back Drew’s sexy flush, but this time for all the right reasons.
Epilogue
One year later
Cliff relaxed on the new plush couch and watched reruns of Face Off on the flat-screen television he’d finally gotten out of storage. He’d spent enough time in Los Angeles to have a real appreciation of the behind-the-scenes work that went into movie- and filmmaking, even if he sometimes thought that actors like Brett were entitled assholes who ruined the magic. Still, Face Off, with its reality style of elaborate movie-makeup monster creation, had absolutely nothing to do with police work. It hadn’t taken him long on the force to start assessing every cop show he’d previously enjoyed, which destroyed a lot of the charm. He knew other cops who could turn it off enough to not care, but Cliff couldn’t.
As if the mere thought of Brett conjured him up—which, after a year of living back in Sandy Bottom Bay, maybe didn’t surprise or offend Cliff as much as it would have before—a commercial came on for Brett’s upcoming movie.
Drew appeared beside him, and Cliff grabbed his arm, pulling him onto his lap. It was a position they’d found they both liked even though Drew was taller, and Drew fell into it with the ease of long practice.
“Is this Brett’s movie?”
Again, like mere mention of his name was enough, Brett’s face flashed up on the screen.
“Yeah.” Cliff sighed. It looked good, dammit. After the catastrophe last year, Brett had managed to come out of it all covered in rainbows and glitter. Kristi, in a rare fit of compassion, had convinced both Brett and the studio to let the matter go without litigation and had even offered to give him and Drew a bunch of free stuff if they came out to Los Angeles for a visit.
“We going to go see it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Not until after Haunt Fest, though. You’re too busy, and if we wait, we’ll find out if it’s going to bomb.” Cliff had his fingers crossed, but he suspected Brett had finally found what he’d been looking for.
Cliff took a good look at Drew. For now, his skin had a healthy pink tinge and no shadows under his eyes. But Haunt Fest didn’t start for another day, and he hoped it wasn’t as stressful and exhausting for Drew as it had been last year. At least the construction for the add-ons—this living room and a small office—had finished on time. Drew might have exploded if he’d had to deal with Haunt Fest and unfinished construction at the same time.
>
Oddly enough, the mayor’s fears of an economic downturn had been completely unfounded. Despite the lack of lawsuit, Brett had torpedoed his show, bringing Sandy Bottom Bay a notoriety no one had wanted. But converse to expectation, paranormal tourism had exploded in the region. Hell, Cliff was no longer the newbie on the force and hadn’t been for some time, after the chief had to hire another five officers.
Drew’s business had also exploded. It had somehow slipped out that Drew’s readings might have some truth behind them. Cliff had no proof, but he blamed Brett’s loose lips. Or the twins. Who had been taken under his mother’s wing, much to his dismay, although he’d been able to concede that maybe they weren’t entirely evil, just misguided. Aside from a huge increase in tourist traffic to Malachi the Mystic, Drew’s mail-order business had also boomed, and Cliff couldn’t be more proud of his boyfriend. He’d even been able to hire Kyle on as a part-time business manager, which allowed Kyle to teach dance classes in the evening, as he preferred.
The visions hadn’t stopped after the arrest of the mayor, but Drew had only had a handful since, and no more murders. They both hoped one day the visions would cease entirely.
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
Drew frowned. “Malachi isn’t on duty for another hour.”
Cliff stroked a hand along Drew’s spine, making him shiver. “You could start with eyeliner.” His tone was low, coaxing. Drew didn’t put on his Malachi makeup until after he was dressed, but there was something about his pale skin, fiery red hair, and that thick black eyeliner that made Cliff lose his mind.
The wicked smile that stretched Drew’s lips told Cliff that he knew exactly what Cliff was asking for. Haunt Fest meant exhaustion for Drew and overtime for Cliff. This might be the last time they could play until the festival was over.
Drew hopped off Cliff and bent to take his mouth in a scorching kiss before sliding his lips to Cliff’s ear. “I love you, North. Give me five minutes. Then come and get me.”
“I love you too.”
Just like that, instant hard-on. Their attraction had only grown as they’d fallen deeper in love. After Haunt Fest was over, Cliff had secret plans to take Drew on a trip. Sandy Bottom Bay could do without their resident psychic tarot reader for two weeks.
Neither of them had seen the leaves change color in the fall, and Boston sounded as though it would be glorious. If they happened to get married while they were there? Well, then, Cliff’s life would be more than perfect.
Loose Id Titles by K.C. Burn
Trompe L’oeil
North on Drummond
* * * *
The MIA CASE FILES Series
Wolfsbane
Blood Relations
Craving
K.C. Burn
KC Burn has been writing for as long as she can remember and is a sucker for happy endings (of all kinds). After moving from Toronto to Florida for her husband to take a dream job, she discovered a love of gay romance and fulfilled a dream of her own—getting published. After a few years of editing web content by day, and neglecting her supportive, understanding hubby and needy cat at night to write stories about men loving men, she was uprooted yet again and now resides in California. Writing is always fun and rewarding, but writing about her guys is the most fun she’s had in a long time, and she hopes you’ll enjoy them as much as she does.
Find out more about this talented author at http://www.kcburn.com.