by Alexa Land
“Yeah, I know. Refer to earlier ‘I’m in big trouble’ statement.” I drained my cup of spiked coffee.
Jess looked defeated as she slumped in her chair. And she murmured, “You couldn’t have just let me fix you up with Fernando’s cameraman’s ugly brother.”
Chapter Four
After brunch I really needed to clear my head, so I went home and changed into my wetsuit and crammed my board awkwardly into the loaner car with about a third of it sticking out the passenger window. The waves were crap at Ocean Beach but halfway decent at Fort Point, and I spent hours on the water until I was completely exhausted.
As I tucked my board under my arm and finally returned to shore, I glanced up to where my car was parked. And my heart leapt. A sleek, black Maserati was parked beside the Hyundai, giving it an inferiority complex. And sitting on the hood of the sports car was the most beautiful man in the known universe.
I jogged to Dmitri, who grabbed me in his arms and kissed me in front of God and everyone right there in the parking lot. And then he let go of me and said, “Wow, look at you. You’re so fucking beautiful.”
I laughed at that. “So you like me dripping wet and exhausted?”
“I do like you dripping wet, and also in that skin-tight wetsuit. Damn.”
I kissed him again, then said, “Sorry, I got your clothes all soggy.” His fitted black t-shirt and black jeans were fairly water-logged after hugging me.
“Totally worth it. And I guess that means you’ll have to get me out of them as soon as possible.” We both smiled at that suggestion.
“So, stalker-boy, how did you find me?” I asked as he followed me around to the side of my car. I set the board down and grabbed a towel from the passenger seat.
“You’d mentioned this spot Friday night. So I took a drive down here and immediately spotted the Green Machine.”
“How long have you been watching?”
“A couple hours.”
I raised an eyebrow as I scrubbed my wet hair with the towel. “That long? You must have gotten bored.”
“Are you kidding? It was amazing, watching you move like that, with such astonishing grace and power. The phrase poetry in motion doesn’t even begin to describe it. I could spend the rest of my life watching you surf.”
“Maybe you should try it some time. Then you could do more than just watch.”
“Uh, no. I don’t even know how to swim.”
I stopped toweling off and raised an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”
“I never learned,” Dmitri said. “I’m actually terrified of water, especially the ocean.”
“I don’t believe you. I don’t believe you’re afraid of anything.”
He grinned ruefully and told me, “Which just goes to show that you don’t know me very well yet.” And then he changed the subject by asking, “So, are you hungry?”
“Famished.”
“Can I make you dinner?”
“I thought you had to work today,” I said as I again awkwardly stuffed the surfboard into my loaner car.
“I did. I’m done. The club can survive without me for the rest of the afternoon. And evening. And night.” He smiled brightly.
I flashed him a big smile, too. “Well gee, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were insinuating that you wanted to spend the night with me. Again.” We’d already spent both Friday and Saturday nights curled up happily in his big, comfortable bed.
“I might possibly be insinuating that,” he told me.
“And I might be persuaded to take you up on that offer.”
“Oh? And what will I have to do to persuade you?”
I stepped close to him and whispered, “When you get me home, fuck me until I can’t remember my own name.”
Dmitri’s eyes slid shut and he shivered with pleasure. “Don’t tempt me, Jamie,” he replied, his voice low.
“It’s time. I want you in me,” I whispered, running my hand over his flat stomach.
He grabbed my hand and kissed it. And then he said, “Soon. Ok? But not tonight. We’re not quite there yet.”
“How do you figure?”
His blue eyes locked with mine. “Just trust me on this. Please?”
“Is it because you don’t want to top me? Because I can go either way.”
“I can, too. I’d prefer to bottom with you, but I’ll happily fuck you when the time is right, if that’s what you want.”
“Oh God, Dmitri.” A thrill of desire cascaded though me.
“Just a little more time, baby. Ok?” He looked at me pleadingly, and finally I relented.
“Fine. I’ll try to hold off on throwing myself at you tonight. But it’s not going to be easy.”
He leaned in and kissed me lightly, and then said, “Come on, let’s go home so I can bathe you and feed you.” He held out his car keys to me. “Want to drive? I’ll follow in your car.”
“As if I’d want to get sand and seawater all over the interior of your car,” I told him. “I’ll follow you in the Hyundai. See you in a few minutes.”
He kissed me again and got behind the wheel of the Maserati, and pulled out of the parking lot. I watched him for a long minute, the dark sports car turning lots of heads as he climbed the hill heading into the Embarcadero. I supposed our public display of affection had turned some heads as well, but I really didn’t give a shit.
Then again, what if someone I knew saw me making out with Dmitri Teplov? What if word got back to my family, or the department?
I hated that it bothered me.
I’d come out just four months ago, because I was sick of living a lie, and because I realized I was being a hypocrite. I’d been so angry at Charlie for denying his love for me, for not admitting to his family and everyone else that he was gay and that he wanted to be with me.
And then I’d realized that by not coming out, I was basically doing the same thing. Our families had thought Charlie and I were best friends, nothing more. In all that time together, we’d always kept our relationship secret. To this day, Charlie’s family still didn’t know the truth.
And now here I was again, hiding a relationship from my family, but for very different reasons. It wasn’t because I was dating a guy, it was because I was dating an alleged criminal. But the deception didn’t feel much different.
Could I tell my family about Dmitri? Should I?
It wasn’t as though I was ashamed of him. Far from it. And I didn’t believe he was guilty of the things I’d heard him accused of. How could he be? Dmitri Teplov was good. I knew this in my heart. Everyone had to be wrong about him. And maybe I could make my family see it.
Yeah, good luck with that.
I sighed as I reached behind me and drew down the zipper of my wetsuit, then peeled it off my shoulders and torso. I wrapped the beach towel around my waist and pulled the suit off beneath it, then stuffed the wetsuit in the back seat of the Hyundai and slid behind the wheel, lost in thought.
I really didn’t know how my family or my department would react to my relationship with Dmitri. Not well, obviously, though just how bad was anyone’s guess. But I couldn’t live a lie – not again. I had to be honest with them.
And most of all, I had to be honest with Dmitri. I hadn’t told him I was a cop yet, and he deserved the truth. I was so afraid that he’d break up with me, but that was no excuse for dishonesty.
When I pulled up in his driveway the garage door was open, the Maserati in its usual spot. I parked behind the Land Rover and grabbed my board, then cut through the garage, propping the surfboard against a wall and hitting the button to shut the garage door on my way past.
Dmitri was in the kitchen. He had changed into a fresh black t-shirt and khaki shorts, and was chopping something at the counter. When I came into the room he turned to me with a big smile and said, “Dear God. Did you drive across town like that?” He was holding a big chef’s knife and used it to point out my state of undress.
I looked down at myself and saw that I was naked,
except for the towel wrapped around my waist. “Oh. Yeah. I guess I did.”
“That’s so fucking hot,” he murmured, leaning back against the counter and running his eyes up and down my body appreciatively.
“Dmitri, I need to tell you something.”
“Ok. Go ahead.”
I braced myself – for what I didn’t know – and blurted, “I’m a cop.”
He stared at me for a long moment, eyes wide. It felt like time and the universe was frozen, holding its breath. Everything hung in the balance.
In the next instant he’d tossed the knife onto the counter behind him, and crossed the room to me in several long, quick strides. He grabbed hold of me, and I didn’t resist. Whatever he was going to do, I just surrendered to it. He swung me around in a move that displayed shocking strength, and brought me to the floor where I landed on my back, but not hard, and he landed on top of me.
And then he was kissing me – kissing me! – wildly, passionately, his tongue in my mouth as he reached down and pulled the towel off my hips. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, returning his kiss with equal passion, trying to get as close to him as I possibly could.
When he freed my mouth, moving to my ear and sucking my earlobe, I managed between gasps, “This isn’t the reaction I was expecting.”
“No?” he whispered, licking my ear – which was surprisingly erotic. “What reaction were you expecting?” He thrust his hips, rubbing his cock against mine through his shorts.
“Hating me, breaking up with me – more that. Less dry-humping,” I grinned as I ran my hands down his back and cupped his ass.
“Come on,” he said, “Let’s go to the bedroom.” He jumped off me and gave me his hand, then tugged me to my feet.
As we quickly climbed the stairs, Dmitri pulling me along with my hand in his, I asked him, “Are you really not mad about this?”
“Do I seem mad?” He shot me a brilliant smile over his shoulder.
“No. But you should be. I lied to you.”
“Not so much lied as omitted.” We’d reached the bedroom now, and he pushed me onto the bed and climbed on top of me. He kissed me again and then murmured, “How do you want it for our first time? Me inside you? Or you inside me?” And then he ran a trail of kisses down my neck.
“You in me.” Then my brain caught up with the rest of me and I stammered, “Wait, what?”
He sat up and pulled his t-shirt over his head, and tossed it away from us. “You heard me,” he said before diving back down to my neck and running his tongue up to my earlobe.
“You’re going to fuck me? Why?” I asked incredulously.
“Why? Isn’t that obvious?”
“Noooo. Not obvious.”
“I want you. You want me. There: obvious.”
I rolled over so I was on top of him, straddling him as I sat up and bracing myself with my hands on his shoulders. “Please explain to me why you’re suddenly willing to have sex with me, when not an hour ago you were telling me we had to wait.”
He relaxed under me and flashed a stunning smile. “We weren’t ready before. Now we are.”
“Why? Because you now know I’m a cop? That makes zero sense.”
“Baby, I’ve always known you’re a cop,” he told me, tucking his hands under his head, still smiling.
“What? No you didn’t. Did you?” I stammered as I stared at him. He nodded, and I asked, “How did you know?”
“Your i.d. was scanned when you came into the VIP lounge. Remember? And when your name was automatically checked against my database, it came up right away that you worked for the SFPD. That sent an alert to my phone.”
“No wonder you remembered my name. But if you knew, why didn’t you say something? And why did you pursue me when I left the club that night? Why didn’t you just let me go?”
“I didn’t say anything because I wanted you to tell me yourself. I wanted to know you trusted me enough to tell me the truth. Frankly, I thought it’d take you weeks. I’m so happy that you opened up to me so quickly.” He pulled me down to him and kissed me gently. “And the reason I pursued you is because I’ve never in my life wanted anything as much as I want you.”
I kissed him again, and his lips parted beneath mine. And I murmured, “I want you too, Dmitri. God I want you.”
He pulled back and said, “Even though you know what I am? What I do?”
“I don’t believe those things about you. They can’t be true.”
And Dmitri said softly, his eyes never leaving mine, “What if they were true?”
“They’re not.” I sat up and shook my head. “You’re good, Dmitri. And nothing will convince me otherwise.”
He propped himself up and cocked his head to the side in that characteristic way of his, watching me closely. And he said, “I have no idea why you’d think that.”
“You asked me when we first met to judge you based only on our interactions, not on rumors. And that’s what I’ve done. That’s why I think – no, I know – that you’re a good person.”
A little smile curved the corner of his full lips. He picked up my hand and kissed the back of it, and then he licked it.
I laughed at that. “Does my honesty somehow make me more lickable?”
“No, the fact that you’re salty makes you more lickable,” he told me, his eyes alight with amusement.
“The fact that I’m – oh shit, I haven’t showered yet! Sorry, I must be disgusting. And I’ve probably gotten sand all over your sheets.”
“I could care less about the sand. But if you want to, you can come into the bathroom with me and I’ll clean you up.” He said that innocently enough, but the look in his eyes gave away his real intent.
I grinned broadly and swung off of him, and gave him a suggestive look over my shoulder. “I prefer getting dirty with you. But I’ll settle for getting clean, just this once.” And I turned and sauntered to the bathroom, giving him a nice, long look at my ass.
Dmitri let out a long, low moan as he fell back onto the bed. And in the next instant he launched himself up and came after me. He started the shower, which as I’d learned over the course of the weekend featured a surprising number of shower heads in seemingly random positions. The shower was so large that it would probably hold half a dozen men at a time (and just to torture myself, I thought, well, maybe it has held that many). I rolled my eyes at that misplaced jealousy and stepped under the warm water, and Dmitri stripped himself and joined me.
I wrapped my arms around him and held him for a long moment, and fought the urge to tell him I loved him. Even if my cop revelation hadn’t floored him, I was sure that would. This was supposed to be casual fun, nothing more – a ten month bachelor party before Dmitri was taken off the market. I needed to not screw that up by getting way too serious.
Dmitri washed me slowly, meticulously. He started by shampooing and rinsing my hair, then worked his way down. His hands moved sensuously over my body, caressing as much as cleaning. I’d never felt so cherished, so cared for.
When he reached my cock, he met my eyes and wrapped a soapy hand around my shaft. I gasped and shot an arm out to steady myself against the tiles. He ran his hand slowly down my length, his other soapy hand reaching underneath to ‘wash’ my balls. I actually whimpered as he massaged me thoroughly, then released me and turned me toward the running water.
My back was to him now, and he caressed my ass as I leaned forward with both hands against the wall and spread my feet apart. It occurred to me that I’d just positioned myself to be patted down, and I grinned at that role reversal.
A slick finger ran along my crack, then gently rubbed a little circle around my opening. Dmitri leaned forward so he was pressed against me and whispered in my ear, “Baby, have you ever had anything inside you before?”
“No.”
“Nothing? Not even a finger?”
I shook my head and looked over my shoulder at him, checking to see if he looked shocked or looked like he pitied me. But his expre
ssion was just kind, and he kissed my cheek before he whispered, “I’m going to take such good care of you, Jamie. We’re going to go really slowly.”
Dmitri slid his arm around my waist and ran his other hand over the soap, then went back to massaging the outside of my hole, after a while gently slipping just the tip of his finger in me. “Oh God Dmitri, yes,” I gasped, bending over farther and spreading my legs wider for him.
He fingered me gently, pushing in only an inch or two, then pausing to let me get used to it. I moaned and fought the urge to thrust backwards.