by L. C. Chase
And now they were here. In his house. Why? What else could they want?
Trent narrowed his eyes and squared his shoulders.
“I’m looking for Caleb Masters,” Lachlann said in his deep, authoritative Bad Cop voice. His expression guarded, blue eyes hard on Trent.
“Why?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“It damn well is my concern.” Trent took a step closer to Lachlann, crossing his arms over his chest and widening his stance, for all the good it did against the giant man-wall in front him. “You got what you wanted last night. And now you’re back from more? That’s police harassment.”
An amused light, that Trent was certain he hadn’t actually seen, flashed in Lachlann’s eyes. The big man dropped a massive hand on his shoulder, and Trent froze. Fear shot through his heated veins, instantly dowsing his rising anger, but he didn’t back down.
Oh, shit. He was next. And this time, there were two of them.
Then Lachlann gave him a gentle squeeze and said, “You’re a good friend, kid.”
What?
Lachlann’s gaze flicked up, over Trent’s shoulder. And Trent never would have believed it if he hadn’t seen it himself. That big, gruff, intimidating cop transformed right before his eyes, lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. His features softened and the goofiest smile Trent had ever seen on a man changed Lachlann from Bad Cop to Teddy Bear, making him look five years younger.
“Bear!” Cal squealed from behind him. Trent startled and turned in time to see his best friend race across the living room, a towel wrapped around his hips, skin still wet from the shower, and launch himself at the officer.
Lachlann wrapped Cal up in his arms while Cal wrapped his legs around Lachlann’s waist and began kissing every inch of the man’s face. His towel slipped, mooning everyone in the room. Lachlann covered Cal’s exposed ass with both hands, easily holding him up.
“Hey, baby,” Lachlann, said between kisses and laughs, “How was your party?”
“Best. Birthday. Ever!”
Bear? Birthday party? Trent couldn’t quite comprehend what was going on. Bad Cop was… “Bear?” he asked. “Bad Cop is Bear?”
“Oh my god, Bear!” Cal said, “That was so. Much. Fun!”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Trent yelled. “Fun?”
Thompson reached out and placed a hand on Trent’s arm. “Hey, its okay. It was Cal’s birthday fantasy.”
Trent shook him off and immediately regretted it. He wanted those hands on his body. All over. But they all played him. Even Thompson. “And no one saw fit to tell me? What the fuck, Caleb? I thought we were in serious trouble.”
Three smiles fell from happy faces, but Trent would not feel guilty about that.
Cal slid down Bear’s body to the floor, and Bear caught the towel, wrapping it back around Cal’s waist, while Cal kept his arms around the man’s broad torso. He rested his head against Bear’s chest and turned toward Trent. “I’m so sorry, sweetie.” Cal sounded genuinely, and rarely, apologetic. “I didn’t expect you back in town until today. When you showed up early, I really wanted to party with you, but I also really wanted my fantasy birthday gift, and if I told you, told anyone, it would have lost that forbidden edge. You know what I mean? It had to be as real as possible.”
“I get that, but—”
“Have you ever had a fantasy?” Thompson interrupted. “One you wanted to play out?”
You mean, besides dragging you to my bedroom and licking your whole body? Starting with that tattoo? Right now?
“What if you had the opportunity to do it? What would you do to fulfill it? To live your fantasy?”
Don’t fucking tempt me, Officer About-to-be-Ravaged…
“Come on, Skippy. It was all in good fun and no one got hurt.” Trent glared at him and Thompson quickly continued, running a soothing hand down Trent’s arm. “I wanted to tell you so badly. I felt horrible seeing you so upset and having to leave you like that. I wouldn’t have, but I promised Artie and Cal, and I’d only just met you.”
When Trent didn’t respond, Thompson reached out and lifted Trent’s chin with one finger until their eyes met, “Can you forgive us?”
Oh dammit! So not fair. Those dark, mesmerizing eyes bore into him, and Trent knew he could forgive the man of anything. He nodded. “Fine.”
Thompson smiled. “Name’s Jared, by the way.”
“Jared,” Trent repeated, liking the way it sounded rolling off his tongue.
“Go put some clothes on so we can get out of here, baby,” Lachlann, or Bear rather, said to Cal. He released Cal from his bear hug and playfully smacked his ass. “We have some unfinished celebrating to do,” he called out as Cal ran off to dress—frigging giggling again.
“Real sorry about last night,” Bear said to Trent, nothing but sincere kindness in those blue eyes now. “But I’d do anything for him. You get that, don’t you?”
Trent nodded. Yeah, he got it. Cal had an uncanny way of wrapping everyone he met around his little finger. Trent included. He squeaked when Bear pulled him into a hug.
Bear released him and smiled. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Cal never shuts up about you.”
“Ready, baby,” Cal sing-songed as he returned wearing a pair of Trent’s shorts and a T-shirt. “Hope you don’t mind, I borrowed some clothes, Itchy.”
Trent shrugged, not really expecting anything different. “No worries, Scratchy.”
Cal planted a quick kiss on Trent’s cheek, and whispered in his ear, “Thanks for being a good sport.” Then he leaned into his big boyfriend, who wrapped a meaty arm around his slender shoulders, and the two disappeared through the doorway with a nod goodbye, leaving Trent alone with Jared. A wave of shyness washed over him and he was suddenly at a loss as to what to do or say. He shifted on his feet, still looking at the empty doorway.
“Well, shall we?” Jared asked, breaking the silence.
“Shall we what?”
“I promised you breakfast to make up for last night. Remember?”
“Yeah, you did.” Trent exhaled a cleansing breath and smiled. He had nothing to be nervous about with Jared. Other than trying to control Junior. And his impulse to throw the man down and use him as a plate.
“I like that,” Jared said.
“What?”
“Your smile. It lights up the whole room.”
Trent blushed, and then turned away to gather up his wallet and keys. As he locked the door and followed Jared out to his car, he thought that while Cal may have had the best party ever, it felt like he was the one who’d been given a present… a gorgeous, dimpled, tattooed man-present, now sitting next to him in a leather bucket seat. He couldn’t wait to unwrap it.
And just maybe, for his birthday…
~ THE END ~
About L.C. Chase
Artist by day, author by night, L.C. Chase is a hopeless romantic and adventure seeker. The first time she left home, she traveled 1200 miles to California - to be a rock star - with two hundred dollars in her pocket. A four-year walkabout took her on a coast-to-coast back roads tour of the USA, across both of New Zealand's islands by bicycle, and a short road trip in NSW, Australia.
When not writing about beautiful men falling love, L.C. can be found reading, drawing, horseback riding, or running the trails with her goofy Australian Shepherd, who, if he were human, would be a stand up comedian.
Please visit www.lcchase.com for more information on new releases, works in progress, and contact details.
About Xara X. Xanakas
In high school, Xara X. Xanakas shunned typing class assignments in favor of writing cliffhangers that would drive her friends nuts. She’s been toying with writing ever since. More than twenty years later, she has finally found her inspiration. A wide cast of characters, including a menagerie of shapeshifters, keeps pressuring her to write their stories, telling her about themselves at some of the most inopportune times.
Her fine arts
degree has been absolutely no help in the IT job she uses to pay the bills. She lives in Texas with her biggest fan and two cats.
Please visit www. xaraxanakas.com for more information on new releases, works in progress, and contact details.