by Mary Calmes
"Jory."
I looked up as Trip came to stand over me. "Hey, man."
"Where'd ya go?"
"I'm gonna jet," I smiled slowly. "I'll see ya later."
"But I thought we were gonna hang out."
"So did I, but it's cool."
"No," he said, squatting down beside me, hand on my back. "I want to—"
"J!"
I looked to the street and there was Sam getting out of his tank, which he had parked beside the curb. I really needed to ask him why he felt the need to drive the monster car. He didn't need to compensate for anything.
"Who's that?" Trip asked me as Sam came around the front of the SUV and strode toward us.
And I had the strangest moment of clarity, watching him close in on me. "That's Sam."
"Jory."
My eyes flicked back to Trip's.
"Who's Sam?"
"Hey."
We both looked up at Detective Kage as he held his hand out to me.
"That was fast." I smiled at him, liking the way the corduroys hugged his long, muscular legs, the enormous belt buckle, and the steel-toed boots that were all beat to hell. A white T-shirt peeked out from under a flannel work shirt and the fleece-lined denim jacket finished off his outfit. "What'd you do, work construction today, Detective?"
His smile came slowly, warming his eyes, firing them as he stared down at me. "I did a lot of walking around today. I didn't wanna freeze my ass off."
"Canvassing the neighborhood," I offered as I took his hand and he hauled me to my feet.
"That's right," he said gently, his hand on my shoulder. "I forgot you watch TV so you know what's going on."
I nodded, agreeing with him that I was a big dork, as Trip stood up next to me. "Sam, this is my friend, Trip Ward, Trip, this is Sam Kage."
They didn't shake, they just nodded at each other as Sam's hand went to the back of my neck and he drew me closer to him.
"Let's get some food in you."
"Okay," I agreed, offering Trip my hand. "I'll see ya, man."
"Wait, no—Jory, I thought we were gonna—"
"You're leavin' me hangin' here." I smiled wide.
Instead of taking my hand he stepped into my arms and hugged me tight, his hands sliding over my back. "We should've gone somewhere just the two of us."
"Yeah, we should've." I squeezed back because he felt good in my arms. I needed to be held, I craved it.
"We gotta go," Sam said, and I felt his hand tangle in my hair, pull gently but insistently.
I let Trip go and Sam grabbed the lapel of my suit jacket.
"Take care," I said.
"Jory, lemme take you out tomorrow. I'll pick you up at work and we'll have dinner and then we can—"
"He'll be busy," Sam said gruffly, yanking me forward so hard I almost fell. "Get in the car before I put you in the car."
"Oh yeah?" I teased him, shrugging off his hand, walking backwards. "Ya think you can do that?"
He grunted and moved faster than I would have thought he could. I had wrongly assumed that a man his size wasn't capable of speed, but he had a hold of my arm again before I even realized what he was doing. "Lemme show you where the car is."
I smiled, looking down at my feet. "I can walk."
"You're barely vertical. How many drinks did you have?"
"I dunno."
"Why were you drinking anyway?"
"I was sitting by myself and I got bored."
"Why were you sitting alone?" he asked as he opened the door for me, holding it open.
I climbed up and he slammed the door behind me. I glanced back over to the club entrance and Trip was still standing there, watching me. I waved and he returned the gesture.
"You were supposed to be on a date with that guy?" Sam asked when he opened the door and slid into the driver's seat.
"I think so." I turned and looked at him. "Isn't that what dinner usually implies?"
He reached out and put a hand on my cheek. "You look confused, baby."
"Well, he invited me to dinner but not alone. What is that?"
"I used to invite friends if I wanted the other person to think it wasn't really a date."
I shrugged, brushing his hand away. "Then I guess it wasn't really a date."
"I guess not," he agreed, starting the car.
"But last night when he invited me he said—"
"You spent Thanksgiving with him?"
"With him and his family, yeah." I was more than tipsy or I wouldn't have just started chatting with him like we were girlfriends or something. "They're really nice but he came off all player and everything and so I said I wouldn't go out with him but then he apologized for thinking he was getting laid and—"
"What made him think he was gettin' laid?"
"Did you see him? He's gorgeous—I'm sure he gets laid all the time."
He just nodded.
I smiled in spite of myself. "I might be drunker than I thought."
"You're kidding."
"Even drunk, I know sarcasm when I hear it."
"Just shut the fuck up."
"You know if you're gonna be all—"
"What, J? What are you gonna do? I can do whatever the hell I want with you starting now, and there ain't shit you can do about it. So you know what... screw the food. I'm taking you home with me."
"Wait—no, I've gotta work tomorrow. I—"
"Tomorrow's Saturday. You don't hafta work."
"Yes, I do. I've gotta deliver something for my boss. I've gotta be there at like—"
"You're coming with me."
"I can't. Don't—"
"Don't what? Don't just do whatever I want since you always do whatever the hell you want?"
"No, I—"
"You don't always get to have things your way, so sit there and shut up."
I vowed it would be a cold day in hell before I ever spoke to him again. Arms crossed, staring out my window, I didn't even look at him. When he suddenly pulled off down a street I didn't know, I turned and looked at him.
He was gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white. "I fuckin' hate this."
"What?" It was an early thaw for hell.
He turned and looked at me. "This. You and me, I fuckin'
hate it."
"Then let me out and I'll get—"
"No," he roared and in the small area it was even louder. It resonated through my whole body.
"I don't—"
"This is eatin' me up."
I watched him swallow hard, saw how ragged his eyes were, how wrung out he looked.
"Jory...."
I was good at changing the subject when people were drowning in too much emotion. I needed to help him not push himself under. "That night you saw me out, did you really think I looked like a hustler?" I teased him, smiling lazily. We had passed each other, me walking out with three of my female co-workers, him walking in with his friends, a beautiful blonde on his arm. He had delivered the scorching remark that I looked like I was a rent boy.
"No." His voice sounded hoarse, crackly.
"Did I look good?"
"Yes."
"Do I look good now?"
In answer he was on me, his mouth sealing over mine, his tongue pushing for entrance that I instantly allowed. As soon as my lips parted, his tongue swept inside, and he gathered me close, crushing me against him, kissing me so hard, so long, reacquainting himself with every part of my mouth.
When I pulled back to look up into his face, he bit my bottom lip to keep me close. I smiled and he ended up kissing my nose, my eyes, still holding me in his arms so tight.
"Did you sleep with the blonde?" I asked him, holding my breath.
His voice was low and husky, filled with gravel. "No, Jory. I don't sleep with anyone but you."
"Then why say those things you said, why say you wanted to get married and—"
"'Cause you were being so fuckin' smug," he barked at me, letting me go suddenly, pushing me back in
to my seat. "After we left my folks' place that day, you started talking like of course I'm gonna do this or that, talkin' like you fuckin' own me, like I belong to you... and for you it's so easy, you just fall in love and—"
"Who says I'm in love?" I argued.
His scowl was black. "Oh fuck you. I know you've got it bad so don't even try and sit there and pretend you don't.
How fast you ran—what you did—calling Dom instead of me—all that shit is about you creating drama because your feelings got hurt. Well, fuck you, J. You don't just run off if I do some stupid shit. You call me on it and tell me I'm an idiot and tell me where to go. That's what you do. All that shit I said that Sunday—you think I meant any of that?"
I just stared at him.
His laugh was more a bark. "Fuck, you did. That's funny. I would've thought you knew me better."
"Why say it if you didn't mean it?" I repeated my earlier question.
"Because I was mad!" he roared at me, his hand on the back of my head to pull me close, staring into my eyes. "You can be gay and have your life and be whatever, but me, if I have you there's stuff I gotta let go."
"Then maybe you shouldn't let it go," I said honestly, staring deep into his beautiful eyes. "I mean, you resenting me down the road does not sound like a good time."
He cupped my face in his hands, drawing me close to kiss me breathless; kissing me so long I could hear my heart pounding in my ears from lack of oxygen.
I tore my mouth free and his hands went to my ass as he drew me across the seat, over the emergency brake into his lap, his lips on my throat, biting, licking, sucking, and kissing whatever skin he could reach. I trembled hard under his hands. He felt so good and I had never thought in a million years he would be the one holding me again.
"I have no choice anymore," he confessed, his nose running up the side of my neck as his lips trailed over my skin. "Need you. Can't sleep without you and it's only you.
There's no woman I want... no other guy... just you. I am completely addicted to you."
He was? "You are?"
"Yeah." He sounded so miserable. "Shit."
I smiled at him. "You don't sound very happy about it."
"'Cause it would be a helluva lot easier if I didn't feel like this."
I looked into his eyes.
"But see I'm crazy about you makin' tea whenever there's a problem and your smell on my sheets and having you next to me in the middle of the night... I mean, I got used to all that so fuckin' fast."
He was a mess and I loved it.
"You put me through it when you left, and I've been so...
pissed... at you and then that night I saw you out and you look like you're okay you're fine without me, and—and I just wanted to take you home and... then the other night. What if you were hurt or killed or... what the fuck am I supposed to do? And that asshole tonight, he thinks he's got a shot with you... everybody thinks they've got a shot because I'm not around and... it's not gonna fuckin' happen! I will not allow it to happen. I want you with me all the time—can't have anyone else touching you or... you belong to me. You get that, right? You're mine. I think I'm gonna mark you—put my name on you so everybody knows that you're—"
It was too much, so I cut him off, shifting in his lap so my ass was pressing against his groin, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him with every drop of love and hate and everything in between that I had. I was ravenous for him, and the way I kissed him brought moans and whimpers up out of him. It made me smile—big, strong man just shaking with need for his lover. It was staggering to be that wanted, to drown in the heat of the kiss, of the embrace.
"Swear on my life, Sam, swear you're gonna tell everyone about me."
"Shit," he almost groaned and I could tell he was in agony.
"I fuckin' hate you."
"Swear."
"I swear," he almost yelled. "But you hafta take my word that I will. You need to trust me." He was exasperated, sick of fighting with me. It took so much energy.
"I do."
"I really fuckin' hate you," he growled at me, his hands sliding up and down my thighs as I shifted around in his lap, shoving my groin against his abdomen.
"I know." I smiled into his smoky blue eyes, reaching down between us, my hand slipping over the front of his jeans, rubbing gently but firmly.
"Jesus God," he blurted out, his head falling back against the seat. "Jory, I swear, baby, I did not get in bed with anybody else. Please-please-please let me get in bed with—"
"Yes, Sam." I cut him off. "Let's go to my place."
He lifted me up and dumped me back in my seat, and I laughed at how fast he drove, the squealing tires, the engine revving loud. I told him to put the light on the top of the car and he shot me a scathing look that just made me laugh that much harder.
At my door he hovered over me, his lips on the side of my neck and I had trouble with the lock. He took the keys and got the door opened and then locked behind us. Lifted into his arms, I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me to my bedroom. Clothes were torn off and left where they fell, both of us getting in bed at the same time. I scrambled back against the headboard and he came down on top of me, his mouth on me, swallowing me down his throat. I arched up against him and heard him fumbling in my nightstand. When slick fingers slid inside me, I yelled his name.
"I might hurt you," he confessed, lifting his lips from me.
"Try," I breathed out.
The noise in the back of his throat before he lifted my hips and buried himself in me, deep and hard, was raw and throaty. And the thrust would have hurt but his hand was back to stroke my shaft and keep my arousal at fever pitch.
To be filled and held at the same time was heaven.
"I missed you."
I had missed him more. My eyes were all over him, watching the cording muscles as he moved above me and then the way he caught his breath as I pushed against him, rolling him over on his back. His hands gripped my thighs as I rose above him, reaching up to pull me down, gather me close, he was so gentle as he caressed my skin.
"Promise me you won't go anywhere," he said, my face in his hands as he stared into my eyes, the throb of pleasure sliding through him as I seated myself deeper.
"I promise." I smiled slowly.
"Don't leave me. I'll hurt you if you try and leave me."
I smiled down into his eyes. "Yeah? You'll hurt me?"
"Jory," his voice cracked. "Please, baby, I—"
But my mouth on his cut him off as I kissed the worry right out of him. When I pulled back his eyes were clouded, his lips swollen. He looked utterly ravaged.
"You know that woman was right."
I squinted at him. "What are we talking about?"
"That woman that time, the one who came with my neighbor... you could be a model if you wanted. You are so beautiful."
I laughed at him, trying to kiss him.
"You are. Your mouth and your skin and your sweet ass."
"I don't think she was talking about my ass," I chuckled, loving our mindless pillow talk.
He ignored me. "I love how your eyes get when we're doing this—Jesus, J, it's so fuckin' hot."
I flicked my tongue over his lips before sucking his bottom lip inside my mouth. I felt his body shudder beneath mine and I shifted, lowering myself over him, taking all of him inside me.
"God, you feel so good." His voice was raw, husky, his pupils dilated as he stared up at me. "This shit is gonna kill me."
And I smiled as I made love to the man I loved. I was an idiot and a drama queen, he was right. He was as crazy about me as I was about him, and how I had missed that I had no idea.
"Please come back to my place, J."
"No." I grinned lazily, clenching my muscles so he gasped.
"I like it here."
His voice was filled with sand when he could finally speak.
"Then can I stay here with you?"
"I'll think about it."
He had me fl
at on my back a second later, my legs still around his waist. "I wanna sleep here with you, all right? Can I do that, please?"
"Yes," I said quickly as he pushed down into me. "Stay."
"I'm the only one you ever let sleep with you, huh, J?"
"Yes."
"'Cause you trust me."
"Yes."
"Remember that all right?"
"Yes, dear."
The way he was looking at me made my heart hurt. My tears came from joy and when he wiped them away and kissed my eyes, I told him he could stay forever if he wanted.
"I want to," he said, his face buried on my shoulder.
I couldn't hold him tight enough.
Chapter Three
My phone woke me at five in the morning, and my boss, Dane Harcourt, was on the other end, reminding me I had to deliver the envelope with the charity information to the hospital before nine. I was groggy but I told him I was all over it. He grunted like maybe he wasn't sure I was coherent enough, and I asked him why he couldn't take it over himself.
He said that would be a neat trick considering he was in Cape Cod. It was another romantic getaway, and I made him promise to try and retain a name this time. He snorted out a laugh before he hung up. I lay there a minute, listening to the silence of the apartment, and realized that I was alone. I got up and went room to room just to make sure before I called Sam. He was on site at a crime scene somewhere and his voice sounded funny when he answered.
"What's wrong?" I asked gently.
No answer.
"I woke up and you were gone."
"You looked so sweet layin' there, all warm and... like a kitten."
"A kitten," I said after a minute.
Sam chuckled and I smiled because I'd caused that.
"I'm really glad you called." He sighed deeply. "You sound so good."
"I sound sleepy."
"Exactly. I wish I was there—in bed with you. I'm freezing out here."
"Are you okay?"
"No," was all he said.
"What can I do?"
"I dunno, kitten—what can you do?"
"Okay, enough with the kitten crap," I warned him, smiling into the phone. "Just tell me. Please, Sam. Say something—anything."
He cleared his throat. "Okay—you can pack a bag and go to my place and wait for me. Can you do that?"