by J. S. Finley
He pressed up, grazing over Clay’s pucker, and they both gasped. Clay was moving too slowly, but Thomas didn’t want to rush him. Clay’s eyes rolled up as his lips opened on a groan. Then he was in Clay’s delicious heat, and the zing of sparks flying through his body took his breath away.
He gasped in air, trying to keep his wits about him, but Clay was everything. He’d found someone who got him, someone who understood his life and what had happened in the darkest moments. He wouldn’t have to make excuses to stay away from fireworks or have to deal with explaining his dark moments when a death anniversary came up. He could say one word to Clay, and he would understand.
Clay got how every day was a precious gift. Being alive after what they’d gone through was a miracle.
Clay lowered even more, drawing Thomas from his thoughts as pleasure exploded through him. He focused on the way Clay threw his head back and gasped as he lowered. How Clay’s fingers twisted in the sheets. Clay still wasn’t moving much, but it felt so good.
Then he was all the way in with Clay seated on him. Their gazes met, and he saw tears in his lover’s eyes. He reached up and caressed Clay’s chest as he started to rock on top of him.
He could feel Clay so well like this. It was as if they really were one, connected so intimately, he could hear Clay’s heart beating and maybe even his thoughts. The love shining in Clay’s eyes showed him exactly how he felt. Then Clay lowered, his chest brushing over Thomas’. He lifted his head, and their lips met in a quick kiss, which stole his breath.
He cupped Clay’s cheeks and lifted for another kiss. “My love,” he whispered.
Clay’s face twisted, and his eyes rolled up in his head. Clay was trying to jack himself, but he wasn’t positioned right to stay on Thomas while reaching down to grab his cock.
Thomas grabbed onto Clay’s waist and lifted him off before flipping them so he was on top. Clay’s eyes widened, and his lips twisted into a smile as Thomas grabbed one knee, lifting it so he could slide in.
He watched pleasure consume Clay, and he wished he were the one bottoming. They were both on edge, both grunting and gasping as Thomas slid in deeper.
They held nothing back as they moved together, their bodies slick with sweat. He dropped his head to Clay’s shoulder and pushed in, wishing he could stay like this forever. But Clay was leaving, and this wasn’t their house, it wasn’t their home. They didn’t live here, and in the morning, he wouldn’t wake up in this bed with Clay in his arms.
Desperate for more, he cocked his hips back fast then slammed in. Clay cried out, and he lifted, making sure his man wasn’t hurt.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, more, like that,” Clay grunted.
He pulled out, watching Clay’s reaction as he pumped in again. Clay’s sweet face stared up at him, his eyes dark with lust. It was erotic as hell and the most amazing thing he’d ever felt.
He tried to hold on, tried to keep going, but the all-consuming need won and pushed him over the edge. His cum filled Clay. If anything, he’d had a taste of what heaven felt like.
Clay jerked below him, his cum spreading between them. He lifted on his elbows and stared into Clay’s eyes, wondering if his life would ever be the same. Something huge had shifted, and it wasn’t only the sex. His life was this man, and that life was walking away from him this afternoon, getting on a plane and flying home. He needed his lover by his side not in Virginia.
He slid out of Clay, and the loss was immediate. Emptiness washed over him, and even though Clay had said he would be back, it felt like he was losing a huge part of his life.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Clay asked.
“Nothing.” He shook his head, fighting the tears. “I—I need you.”
Clay nodded and glanced away as his eyes grew red. Thomas could tell leaving was tearing Clay apart like it was ripping him up. They were supposed to be together. He wished they’d figured it out earlier.
Thomas touched Clay’s chin and gently turned his head. Emotions surged when their gazes met.
“I’m yours. There won’t be any others. I’ll wait for you.” The words were painful for Thomas to say.
“And I’m yours. Thomas, you mean so much to me. I can’t survive without you.”
He was going to tell Clay he would miss him, but he didn’t need to add to his lover’s pain. It was obvious Clay didn’t want to go.
12
Clay cleaned up and showered again, before tugging on his clothes. Sadness filled him. He wanted to stay. But even with the blues bringing him down, he couldn’t voice the concern because it would only make both of them feel worse.
They loaded Thomas’ car with their bags and made one last sweep through the house, making sure it was clean and the trash was out. Thomas took the bottles of beer and liquor that were left over, placing them in the back of his truck.
Clay looked back at the house, knowing his life would never be the same after this week. Thomas moved close and wrapped his arm over Clay’s shoulder.
“This is only the beginning.”
“I know.” Clay’s lips found Thomas’, and for a moment, everything was right. He wanted to say screw work, screw returning to Virginia, and stay here, but he couldn’t ditch his responsibilities. He had to close his apartment and move out. Some of his furniture needed to be sold or donated. Then there was work. Even if he walked in and quit, he still felt compelled to tell someone about his suspicions. There was some sort of a cover-up in the death of those two guys; he just wasn’t sure what happened.
They got in Thomas’ truck and drove to the rental office, where they dropped the key, before they swung by Thomas’ house and unloaded his things. Since his flight didn’t leave until three, they were going to eat lunch there before heading out.
Clay was hit with a huge load of emotions when they entered the kitchen. Their first kiss seemed so long ago. He lifted his fingers to his lips, thinking about how they’d come together. Thomas stepped in front of him, his eyes narrowed.
“You’re thinking of our first kiss, aren’t you?”
He nodded and met Thomas’ gaze. His heart squeezed. “Yes.”
“There will be many more kisses.”
Before, he thought he could hold it together, but now, he knew he couldn’t. Thomas was his future, and it was too painful to think about leaving him. How did people do long distance relationships?
He forced his voice to stay steady. “More kisses, I like that idea.”
“You’ll call when your plane lands?” Thomas’ quiet voice twisted through him.
“I will. It’ll be late, but I’ll call.” He met Thomas’ gaze, wishing he could find a way to stay. Focusing on them, their relationship would only make it more difficult. Work was something he didn’t care about any longer. “I’m a little afraid of what will happen once I go back to work.”
Thomas pulled him into a hug, holding on for a long time. They separated, both of them gulping in breaths. He was about to cry, and he figured Thomas was in the same boat. He reached for a glass for water, and Thomas opened the refrigerator.
“Oh, my milk. That’s going to be bad. It has got to go.”
Clay grimaced. “I guess we didn’t think of the milk before we left.”
“My mind was on something else at the time.” Thomas pulled the milk, some yogurt, and a package of meat from the refrigerator and tossed them in the trash.
“What were you thinking about?”
Thomas hit him with a steady stare. “I was thinking about how I could convince you to stay with me. Obviously, I need someone to keep me from letting my meat go bad.”
Clay burst out laughing, and Thomas narrowed his gaze. Confusion swam on Thomas’ face until he rolled his eyes.
“You’ve got a dirty mind.”
“I do,” Clay agreed. “Do you have anything in the freezer we can eat?”
“Yep, leftovers from the other night.”
“Sounds good.” Clay sipped at his water as Thomas prepared the
food to go into the oven.
When Thomas turned, his eyes were full of heat. He moved close and took Clay’s water, setting it on the counter top. His lips slid over Clay’s, and they both shivered. They used the time while the food was in the oven to practice their kissing skills. Clay took the lead and ran his hands over Thomas’ body, loving on him, while his lips and tongue kept Thomas’ mouth busy. Thomas let him guide them. They were both getting turned on, their breathing heavy. When the timer for their food rang, they both groaned.
“I’m hungry, though,” Thomas said.
“Me too, but I still like kissing you.”
“Same here.”
They grabbed their food, headed out to the back patio, and sat in the shade. The breeze cooled him, though the day was hot. He enjoyed being with Thomas. Even with the heat and the humidity, he wanted to be here. His life would be meaningless without this man by his side. He only hoped he could figure out a way to make it happen.
Time was creeping past, and they had to head to the airport. There were things outside his control, which kept him from staying.
No matter how much he prayed or thought about never leaving Thomas’ side, the plane was taking off, and he had to be on it. He couldn’t shirk his responsibilities even if he wanted to.
The flight was too long for his taste, and when he transferred in Atlanta, he started texting Thomas. His plane was delayed in Atlanta because a storm hit, so he didn’t make it home until close to midnight. He sent a text to Thomas instead of calling him. Thomas had a trip in the morning and must have already fallen asleep because he didn’t respond. Clay fell into bed exhausted and was asleep fast.
The next morning, his alarm rang way too early. He was scheduled to go on shift at seven, but he’d received a text telling him to stop by IA first. Thomas had replied to his text, stating he was headed out to fish. He responded to Thomas’ text, wishing he could ignore the note to head to IA.
His stomach knotted, and his heart was in his throat when he arrived at the station. He sat in the parking lot staring at his phone. He should have contacted his Union rep. Why hadn’t he? Maybe he thought this would blow over. He’d not done anything wrong, and he thought the law was on his side.
He’d taken a week off, actually a little more than a week, and in that time, everything had changed. As he walked through the station, guys said hello when he spoke first, but there was definitely an air about the place that left him on edge.
Before he went any further, he pulled up the contact information for his union representative, Alexis Sanders, and sent a text, telling her he was headed into IA. His phone rang almost immediately.
“I just saw an email this morning—this morning!” Alexis’ voice rose, and he heard paper rustling through the line. “They tried to bury it. I should have been told the moment the accusations were leveled. Who did you piss off?”
“I don’t—Fuck, sorry about that. I pissed off someone who obviously has some power.”
Alexis snorted. “I’d say so. I’ll be there in a few minutes. You need to talk to a lawyer.”
“What about you?” Clay asked.
“I represent the Union. You need someone else.”
“Dammit. I’m sorry for my language.”
“Heck, Clay, I’d be saying worse than you are. Just give me a few minutes, and I’ll be there.”
Clay hung up and continued on to Internal Affairs, his heart hammering wildly.
“Hey, I’m Officer Simmons, I’m here to see Investigator Newman.”
“I’ll tell him you’re here,” the man at the front desk said.
He took a seat as he waited for Alexis. After a few minutes, instead of Newman coming to him, he was led to a room, which looked suspiciously like an interrogation room. He took a seat at the small table, clasping his hands together in front of himself. This wasn’t how being a cop was supposed to have turned out. He only wanted to help people, and now he was being interrogated in a room set aside to talk to people who had broken the law or done something wrong.
The door opened, and an older man with a graying beard and huge glasses stepped in. The scent of stale coffee preceded him. Clay noticed the nicotine stains on his fingers and the grease spot on his tie. This man was old school, no doubt about it. At one point, Clay had believed Internal Affairs was there to help police officers; now, he seriously doubted they wanted to help.
“Simmons, it looks like you messed up big time,” Newman said.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Clay squeezed his hands and forced himself not to fidget.
“Before you left for your…vacation”—Newman said the word like it was an epitaph—“you arrested a young man by the name of Michael Stringer. Mr. Stringer is filing charges of police brutality against you.”
He drew in a slow breath, wondering if Alexis was almost here. What could he say? He should have stayed silent. He knew the arrest had been clean but obviously saying something to Banks must have made someone angry. This was bad, worse than he’d thought when he was in Florida. They were going to try to sink him.
“My union representative will be here in a few minutes. I don’t want to talk until then.”
Newman looked up from the papers he was studying, his eyebrows raised. “Are you admitting guilt?”
“I’m not admitting anything.”
Newman laughed and shook his head as he moved to the door. “You think your rep can help you. Now that’s funny.” Sanders opened the door and stepped out.
Anger filled him, and he was about to get up to leave when the door opened and his union rep, Alexis Sanders, stepped in. She’d started working for the union about a year ago and still seemed like she had hope. She wasn’t jaded yet, and that was something he could hold onto.
“Clay, it’s good to see you.”
Newman stepped in behind her. “Investigator Newman, I understand you have an issue with one of Mr. Simmons’ arrests.”
“Actually, Ms. Sanders…” Newman drew out her name and rolled his eyes as she stepped past him.
Alexis’ expression went blank before she turned to face Newman with a killer smile. The woman was the perfect union rep because she didn’t play into their baiting, and she was smart too.
“It looks like our boy, Clay, has gotten himself into a bit of a pickle,” Newman said.
The corners of her lips lifted a little before she placed her hand on Clay’s arm and took a seat. She opened a file and pulled out a note pad from her brief case.
“Tell me, Investigator Newman, what evidence do you have?”
Newman sneered at Alexis and shoved a photo across the table. “Clay beat this man up before bringing him in.”
The photo showed the man he’d arrested before he’d taken his vacation. He remembered the arrest, and it had been clean. But in this photo, the man had bruises and cuts on his face.
Clay had stopped the guy for speeding. When he’d gone back to his car to check his license on the database, he’d found an arrest warrant. He’d called in for back up, headed back to the car, and asked Stringer to step out. Then, once Stringer was out of the car, Clay informed him about the arrest warrant. Stringer said he knew about the warrant and did as Clay asked. There weren’t any issues. He hadn’t even raised his voice. He asked politely if Stringer would turn and he had. When asked to place his hands behind his back, Stringer didn’t hesitate. Another cop arrived as Clay was putting Stringer into the back of his car. He waved the other cop off, telling him everything was okay. The photo on the table wasn’t the one taken after Clay brought Stringer in.
“That isn’t right,” Clay said.
Alexis sat back and placed a hand on Clay’s arm. “Excuse us, Detective Newman. We would like to discuss this in private.”
Newman stood and shoved his chair under the table. “Just know I’m arresting his ass and tossing him in with gen pop once I get back in here.”
Alexis looked like she was biting the inside of her cheek, holding back on saying so
mething. Clay could only guess what she wanted to say. There were words, angry bitter words he wanted to spew, but he held back too. Newman left the room with a huff and a slam of the door. Alexis gave him a short smile. “We’ll talk in depth later. This is doctored, you know that, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Clay stared at the photo, his stomach twisting. If he suspected two officers were dirty and had voiced it to one person, how deep did this go? Could Alexis actually help him? What if everyone on the force was dirty? They couldn’t be, right?
“Okay, I can deal with this, if you listen to me.”
“Right now, you’re the boss. I’ll do whatever you say.”
“Good. I’ll tell Newman to come back in. I have some things I want to say to him.” Alexis stood and moved to the door. She pulled it open and moved aside. “You can come in, Newman,” she called out.
It took Newman a few seconds to come, but when he stepped in, Clay noticed his sneer was still in place.
“Now then, why don’t you admit your guilt?”
Alexis squared her shoulders and pushed the photo toward Newman. “No, Newman. Now listen very carefully. You may think you can pull this stuff on other union reps, and maybe you got away with it before, but any tech could see that photo is doctored. My client, Officer Simmons, did not rough up anyone. He’s had a clean record from day one. He’s a good officer and a good man. We’re walking out now, and you’re not going to come after Officer Simmons with these false allegations again. I’ve also advised Officer Simmons to obtain legal counsel.” Alexis looked down at him and nodded toward the door. “Let’s go, Clay. We’re done here.”
“Just a minute. We have a witness.” Newman huffed out a breath before picking up the photo and placing it back in the folder he was holding. He stalked out and slammed the door behind him.