Crime Wave

by Adam Carpenter

  “My interest in Frisano is purely professional. He can help me.”

  “All while he’s helping himself. But don’t fool an old fool, I see your eyes dance when I mention him. He one of those men you like?”

  Jimmy was trapped on this one. “Shit, Ralphie, I haven’t even been on a date with him.”

  “Yet.” Ralphie offered up a knowing smile as only he could.

  Jimmy allowed silence to be his answer, but Ralphie wasn’t done. Yet.

  “Fine, do what you like. But don’t ever forget one thing. Frisano is a cop first. And a second—that what I know rarely goes far. It’s called survival.”

  Jimmy checked his iPhone. His date was eight hours away, and the clock was ticking. He was grateful when the second round arrived. Drinking down that first gulp shut Ralphie up, at least for a bit. Jimmy enjoyed the silence. Words, Ralphie’s words especially, had a tendency to sting.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Polar Vortex could have swept its Arctic chill down Manhattan’s canyons and still Jimmy McSwain would be sweating bullets. Make it a sweltering late June night, where the temperature and the humidity were battling it out for victory, and he was downright sweating. Normally he’d be dressed in cargo shorts and a T-shirt, as little as possible really, and as he walked the streets, he couldn’t help but be jealous of those scantily clad. But he couldn’t exactly show up that way to Gaslight, not tonight. Not for a first date.

  Gaslight was on 46th Street, between Ninth and Tenth Avenues, a bar with dim lighting and hot guys and drink specials throughout the week. This being Monday, it was also billed as “Musical Mondays,” complete with a stage, lyrics, and accompanying music. Many of the chorus boys of Broadway, tonight being their dark night, liked to sing a song or two. Thankfully, that program did not start until 11:00. It was just before nine o’clock when Jimmy entered, wiping the sweat from his brow as he did and thankful for the blast of air that hit him.

  He sidled up to the horseshoe shaped bar, not recognizing the bartender. It had been a few weeks since he’d been here last; guess they’d had a change of staff. Jimmy ordered a Bass Ale on tap, then took a look around the square-shaped room to see if perhaps Frisano was already here. Maybe he’d grabbed a back table. But he saw no sign of the sexy cop, and so he just took a sip of his beer. Jimmy tapped his fingers on the bar, inadvertently catching the attention of a blond guy at the far end. He smiled at Jimmy, who nodded back. Then they both looked down into their drinks. A dance had begun.

  Jimmy wiped at his brow again.

  He hated being nervous. It wasn’t his style.

  But he’d been that way all day, having spent the two hours prior to his arrival staring at the clothes he’d strewn about his bed. He always did this before a date. He was never satisfied. He had tried on several shirts, tossing them in a fit of frustration, cursing as he did so. His mother tried to offer advice, but he closed his door on her. Theatre was closed, which meant she was home more often, which meant she interfered more often. Meaghan was pushier, opening the door and trying to help as only little sisters can.

  “Let me see you in that shirt,” she said, pointing to a purple one hanging in the closet.

  “I’m not wearing purple.”

  “Then why do you have it?”

  “Because, someone bought it for me…” Jimmy closed his mouth.

  “Remy, of course. He had really great taste. He was so stylish.”

  “Meaghan, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about my ex while I get ready…”

  “Ready for what, your future ex?”

  He flipped her the finger. “You really are a brat.”

  “And you’re worse than a girl. Just pick a damn shirt. If you’re lucky, it won’t be staying on long. When I met Rocky, I don’t think he cared what I wore.”

  “Are you sure about that?” he asked, with a wink. “Maybe he got you out of your clothes because of your lack of fashion. Gay guys think that way sometimes.”

  “Jerk. I hope you’re nicer to your date than you are to me,” she said, smacking a piece of gum. She blew a bubble, and it popped across her face.

  “I hope my date is nice to me,” Jimmy said. “Real nice.”

  “So, who is this guy, anyway?”

  “Never mind,” he said.

  “Is it a blind date?”

  “No.”

  “Who asked who?”

  “He asked me.”

  “Why?”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, sis. Come on, what about this shirt?”

  It was a basic black, button-down. It was casual, but nice, and it contrasted well with his blue jeans. He tossed off his T-shirt, getting a teasing whistle from Meaghan as he did.

  “Ooh, someone’s been working out. You look good Jimmy.”

  He looked at himself, three months out from his thirtieth birthday. Good tone to go along with a slight tan, his biceps accentuated on strong, ropey arms. His stomach was flat, and his muscled chest had a generous coat of dark brown hair that trailed downwards. He tossed the shirt over his shoulders, buttoned it. Then, stared at himself once again at the mirror. Something was off.

  “T-shirt underneath?”

  “No, too stuffy.”

  “One button?”

  “Huh?”

  “Leave one button undone, or two?”

  “Maybe three. Do you think your date likes men with hairy chests? If not, just one. Don’t want to scare him away. Rocky was hairless, but I think he waxed himself. You know, guys who work out do that for better definition.”

  “Enough about Rocky, ok? I’m off-duty.”

  Jimmy left the undone buttons at two, a sexy tease rather than a full-on display. Besides, Frisano was pure Italian, and the one occasion he’d seen him in a state of undress—after the St. Patrick’s Day Parade—he’s noticed more than a sprig of hair poking out of his T-shirt. Just then he wondered what Frisano would be wearing tonight. Shit, maybe he should be dressier?

  “Maybe I should start again. Black jeans? Shit, I didn’t shave. Should I?”

  “Christ, Jimmy.”

  “Ok, I think I’m ready,” he said, giving up. The black shirt with blue jeans would do.

  “Got condoms?”

  His blue eyes widened in the mirror, staring back at her. “Geez, Meaghan, can we not talk about that?”

  “What, I always make sure I have them. You never know. Safety first.”

  “Great, sex advice from my baby sister.”

  If that wasn’t incentive enough to be satisfied with his outfit and just get the hell out of there, nothing was. Soon, he was headed down the five flights of stairs and emerging out onto Tenth Avenue, his mother’s words to have a good time ringing in his ears, not to mention his sister’s laughter. So he was glad for the thumping music inside Gaslight, it cleared his mind of his family and brought him back to reality. Which, at the moment, included that blond guy from across the bar, now standing in front of him.

  “Hey, name’s Simon.”

  “Jimmy,” he said, and the guy made to shake his hand.

  “I’m visiting. You?”

  This was like a retake of his meeting months ago with Barry that had ended with them in bed. Same approach, different result though.

  “Sorry, Simon, waiting on a date.”

  “Oh, well, good luck. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll be around.”

  Just then, the front door opened and Jimmy saw his date appear, and he had to guess from the smile he received that he wouldn’t be needing Simon’s generous offer. Jimmy mentioned that his date had arrived, and as Simon departed he gave Jimmy an appreciative nod, as though to say “nice job.” Francis X. Frisano approached the bar, and more than a few heads turned. He was an imposing figure, tall, highlighted by a pair of tight jeans and a gray V-neck. He had impressive arms and a handsome, swarthy face, all of him caught by the swirling lights from the dance floor. Jimmy went dry-mouthed.

  “Hey, Jim.”

  “Hi, uh…Frank.” />
  “Gee, and I haven’t even kissed you yet,” he said with a smile, and then leaned in to plant a fast one upon his lips. That took Jimmy by surprise, but he accepted it nonetheless. It was hot, his dark scruff enticing, tenderness wrapped in roughness. He could at last feel warmth spread throughout his body. The nervous chill replaced by natural heat.

  “You had company?” he asked.

  “Stand around at a bar by yourself, you get approached.”

  “Should I be jealous?”

  “I think he’s jealous of me now,” Jimmy said.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Frisano turned to the expectant bartender, ordered a Dewar’s and soda, “rocks.” Jimmy liked the sound of that last word as it rattled on his deep baritone.

  Soon, Jimmy and Frisano had their drinks. They cheered to finally meeting up for one.

  “Should we sit here, or grab one of those tables in the back. For more privacy?” Frisano asked.”

  Along the back wall, there were several low-to-the-floor tables, square ottomans around them. Jimmy easily agreed to Frisano’s suggestive suggestion, and the two of them made their way across the room, ignoring the looks of the envious, wishing to remain oblivious to whatever else was happening inside the bar. Once settled, the dim lighting provided them some additional cover. Jimmy felt he could relax a bit, but when he looked up at Frisano’s sexy grin, his nerves hit him all over again. Wasn’t Frisano supposed to be worried about discovery?

  “You okay, Jim?”

  “Yeah, it’s just…you look great. I’m not used to seeing you, you know, out of uniform.”

  “Night-time Frank is a lot different than the buttoned-up police captain by day.”

  “Kind of like a reverse superhero.”

  Frisano laughed. “I’ll take it. So, when do the show tunes begin?”

  “Not till eleven.”

  “Good, we’ll be gone by then.”

  Jimmy held his beer before his lips, contemplating the meaning of those words. He took a sip and hoped they meant what he wanted them to mean. He stared again at Frisano, at those lush eyes, so dark and inquiring, and at his arms, which he noticed were wired with thick hair. From his V-neck, several sprigs of dark hair struggled to escape, as though the tight fit was strangling them. So much for Meaghan’s concerns. Jimmy didn’t think his own chest would be a problem. Frisano appeared to be a natural furball.

  “Something on your mind, Jim?”

  “Uh, no, sorry. Just lost in thought.” Staring at you, thinking what you look like without those clothes. That he couldn’t say. So came up with, “Thinking about a case.”

  “I hope we’re not going down that road. When I’m out on a date, I’m no longer a cop.”

  So much for his quick save. “Sorry. Sure. So, Frank, got any siblings? Do they know? I mean, you know…”

  “Life in the Frisano family is like being in the military, don’t ask, don’t tell.”

  “They repealed that.”

  ‘Don’t tell my parents.”

  Now Jimmy laughed, and he felt the early tension leave his body. He leaned back against the back wall, and as he did so, Frisano came around to share the same side of the bench with him. It was very Parisian, and his next move was French as well, his kiss sweet, the slip of his tongue into Jimmy’s mouth enticing. Jimmy felt Frisano’s fingers toying with a button on his shirt. It sprung open, and Frisano’s hand slid inside. Jimmy kissed him back, enjoying the intimate touch, his powerful scent. Hell, he was enjoying it all. At last, their lips parted, but Frisano kept his hand inside Jimmy’s shirt.

  “I’ve wanted to do this since I met you,” he said. “Your chest is very sexy. Such a tease.”

  “Uh, thanks.”

  “You know what I’d like to do?”

  Jimmy gulped, trying to squelch the growing erection in his pants. “What’s that?”

  “I’d like to unbutton your shirt and lick your chest. I’d like to find what’s buried below.”

  It was like the rest of the world no longer existed. Jimmy could no longer feel the beat of the music over his own thrumming heart. As for other people, they faded into the woodwork, stick figures in their one-dimensional world. Jimmy felt like he could float out of the bar, dance on heavy clouds in the sky. He stared again into Frisano’s dark, inviting eyes and saw his own reflection. Like they’d become one.

  “Wow, you don’t mess around, do you?”

  Frisano allowed a quiet laugh. “Funny phrase. Because no, I don’t, and yes I do.”

  They kissed again, then as they parted they reached for their drinks. They finished them, then stared at empty glasses.

  “Do you need another, Jimmy?”

  “Hell, no.”

  “Do you know where we’re going?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  “Hopefully not to hell,” Frisano said.

  “Nah, they repealed that, too.”

  § § §

  After the short walk around the corner to Jimmy’s office on Ninth Avenue, they climbed the two flights of stairs, no words spoken between them. No need to ruin this moment with senseless, time-filling talk. They both knew what was what. As Jimmy unlocked the door and escorted Frisano inside the overheated apartment, he felt his date squeeze his ass. Jimmy nearly jumped at the bold gesture.

  After locking the door, he made his way over to the air-conditioner.

  “No, don’t,” Frisano said. “I want to feel us sweat it out.”

  He asked that no lights be turned on either. Just let the natural light flooding through the windows from a moonlit night guide them. Jimmy nodded.

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Not yet.”

  Frisano came at him, pulled Jimmy into his muscular arms, the action forceful, the impact of their bodies nearly forcing the wind out of him. He was already breathless, anticipating the rush of unleashed desires. Jimmy felt Frank’s kiss again, filled with passion, and Jimmy encircled his arms around the strong body, grinding the cop’s crotch against his. He felt thickness push against him. Frisano was as turned on as Jimmy. Their kissing continued. On Jimmy’s lips, on his ears, on his neck, where the scrape of Frisano’s thick beard sent waves of sharp pleasure across Jimmy’s body.

  “Do what you want to me, do it, Frank.”

  Frisano pulled back, smiled. “Now that’s more like it. It’s just me, Frank. No last name.”

  He led Jimmy over to the sofa, pushing him down. Jimmy watched as his body loomed over him, encasing him in its large shadow. Frisano’s fingers reached down, again playing with the buttons of Jimmy’s shirt. Jimmy just watched as his shirt was peeled away from his body, his chest exposed in the shadowy darkness. Frisano bent his head down, his mouth suckling at one nipple. Then at another.

  “Oh God,” Jimmy said, his back arching at the tickling sensation.

  Frisano kissed the nape of his neck, then pulled back up. Straddling Jimmy, he ran his hands across Jimmy’s chest, fingers dancing in his chest hair. Frisano told him again how much he had looked forward to doing this, telling him he was thrilled at just how furry he was. Jimmy replied saying he’d wondered the same thing.

  “All in good time, Jim, all in good time.”

  From there, he buried his face in Jimmy’s chest, licking it, tasting the beads of sweat as they formed. It was hot in here, Jimmy thought, and smiled at his double entendre. As much as he was enjoying Frisano’s forward attentions, he wanted to reach up and touch him too, feel him, undress him. But Frisano had pinned his arms back, telling him to relax, enjoy. It was hard for Jimmy to let go, to trust, especially with someone he barely knew, but this guy was a cop, he wanted to rise up the blue food chain. No way would he do something stupid. Just…

  “Oh,” he exclaimed.

  Frisano’s tongue had wandered down his flat stomach, going against the grain of his hair. He encircled his belly button, kissing it. Then he unsnapped Jimmy’s jeans. He stared back up at him. Their eyes locked, Jimmy’s sayin
g yes. Please, yes. He wiggled on the sofa cushions, his motions helping to slide his jeans down his legs. He saw his cock poking from inside his shorts. It wanted release, it wanted this man. Right now. And it got…Jimmy got, just what he desired.

  Frisano took him in his mouth. Heat spread through his loins.

  What was happening, he couldn’t believe. This hot, sexy man was inside his office-cum-apartment, doing all sorts of wonderful things to him. He’d released Jimmy’s arms, and so as Frisano continued his motions, Jimmy ran his hands through the man’s thick hair. He wished he could reach down further and grab at his shirt. But Frisano was intent on his actions down below. Jimmy closed his eyes, and he bit his lips, and he just let nature take its course. He wanted to hold back, but at the same time he wanted to be doing to him what was being done to him. To undo those jeans, to see what sprang forward. To peel his sweaty shirt off and reveal what he imagined was a chest darkened with black fur.

  “Oh shit, oh shit…Frank…so close.”

  Frisano dove back down, his move fueled with intensity, amped by Jimmy’s words. He took hold of Jimmy’s cock, rubbed it against the rough grain of his beard, and that’s when it exploded. Jimmy cried out in the darkness, his breath coming in shorts, stifled bursts. Frisano kept a lock on his prey, pumping it until it was drained. And when it was, he looked up and gave a wicked, satisfied smile. Jimmy gave one right back.

  Then Frisano traveled back up his body to kiss him. Jimmy tasted himself as well.

  “I’ve wanted to do that, too, since I met you,” Frisano said.

  “Sorry it took so long,” Jimmy said.

  “You mean the date, not…”

  They both laughed. Frisano then caressed the scruff on Jimmy’s cheeks.

  “It’s getting late,” Frisano said.

  Jimmy’s eyes deflated, not unlike other parts of him. “You’re leaving?”