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Schnickelfritz in Love

Page 3

by Deirdre O'Dare


  Moving fast now, with less caution, he raced back into the building, up the stairs and down the corridor. When he caught a whiff of disturbed air, the scent of sweat and something else, he didn’t slow down. No one was here now he was sure, but someone had been, just moments before. Not Jake; someone else. It wasn’t Jake’s scent.

  He saw the dark blur on the floor in the doorway before he reached it, a man-shape, a big man. Oh, God, be all right. Please be all right. The thought surprised him only in its intensity. This investigation was his job. If the other man had been hurt or killed, he wasn’t sure he could live with himself. Jake was not trained in the crazy survival tricks of a vice detective. He was too honest and open, too trusting and even naive.

  Boz dropped into a crouch, reaching to touch Jake’s shoulder. From there his hand slid to the other man’s neck, feeling for a pulse. It was there, strong and steady. Okay, he’s not dead or dying, at least not yet.

  Jake groaned and stirred. The big man shook his head like a poll-axed steer as he pushed himself up to a sitting position.

  “Sonuvabitch! Whoever hit me packed a mean wallop. Snuck up behind me too. I’d heard something and was trying to get a quick look through the door. I saw someone, standing there in front of the window. The next thing I knew, bam, felt like a sledgehammer bashed me from behind. Now the bastards got away. Shit.”

  “Are you okay?” Boz had to ask, even if it was an inane question. “Give yourself a minute before you try to get up. A concussion is nothing to mess with. Where did they hit you?”

  Jake raised a hand and ran it gingerly down the back of his head. “Here, just at the base of the skull, I think. That’s the tender spot anyway. At the time it felt like a steel plate had hit the whole back of my head, like a truck had hit me.”

  “Well, we know someone was here. I’ll call my backup and get a fingerprint kit out here. We’ll dust the room and see if we can pick up anything. And you can check to see if anything’s missing. I figure we’re safe to use a light now. They’re gone, and they know we’re after them.”

  Jake growled an incoherent mumble of rage that finally shaped into words. “Fuckin’ lousy bastards. I shoulda had eyes in the back of my head. Whoever got me didn’t make a sound. I was listening, paying attention, or I thought I was. I guess I was too focused on the guy in the room, though.”

  Boz chuckled, relieved it hadn’t been any worse. “Good thing you have a Swede’s hard head.”

  He started to rise at the same instant Jake began to struggle to his feet. Somehow, they wound up grabbing at one another in an effort to find their balance. What happened next was completely unplanned, unexpected, and unbelievable. They ended up wrapped in each other’s arms, bodies straining together, as their mouths melded in a heated and urgent kiss.

  Danger is the master aphrodisiac. Shit, I was not going to let this happen. Well, it’s too late now. God, but it feels so good, so right, so necessary…

  They broke apart only when they heard the sounds of Boz’s backup and the other cops’ booted feet and muffled voices. Even though the bunch was speaking quietly enough, they still sounded very loud in the echoing depths of the unfinished building. The advance warning gave Boz and Jake enough time to turn away from each other, tame burgeoning erections, and calm pounding hearts and gasping breath. Yet the words hung between them as if spoken, This isn’t finished yet. The awareness triggered both dread and anticipation in Boz.

  On the heels of that thought came another. Oh, man, I’m glad they didn’t sneak up on us. Boz neither flaunted nor hid his sexual preferences. Still he was pretty sure only a few of his fellow officers knew. A few more might suspect, though most of them would probably be shocked or dismayed if they found out, especially in such a way. He’d made it a rule to keep business and pleasure totally separate, in boxes as far apart as they could be. To a degree, it was the only way to survive in the cruel world of the undercover vice cop.

  By the time the others reached the room, Boz had himself totally under control again. He explained the situation as tersely as possible and then directed the fingerprinting effort. He could not let the opportunity slip away, even if it would likely give them little in the way of sound leads. They went over the room carefully for prints and any other clues. The crew picked up a few things that might or might not be evidence.

  Finally, there was no more to do. Boz glanced at Jake. He’d stayed patiently out of the way while the crime scene team worked, answered a few questions, and now looked weary yet still quizzical when Boz met his gaze.

  Boz answered the unspoken query. “Yeah, we’re done here. Not much more we can do tonight anyway, what’s left of it.”

  Jake shook his head. “I’ve got the mother of all headaches coming on, and it’s only three hours before time to come to work. I just wish I could’ve got my hands on one of those guys.”

  “We’ll catch them. They’ll probably be more cautious now, knowing we’re onto them. I doubt they’ll quit, though—too much easy money to tempt them. Since it’s Sunday, no work today, is there?” He looked at Jake a bit more keenly, concerned by this small memory slip. “Say, you look a little rough. Shouldn’t you get checked for a concussion?”

  Jake clearly started to deny it, then hesitated. “No hospitals,” he muttered. “I don’t do horsepistols. I’m okay.”

  “I don’t think so. Either I take you to the Urgent Care up on Telshore or you come home with me so I can keep an eye on you. Concussions are nothing to fool with, and I suspect you have one.”

  For a moment, he was sure the big man was going to protest or even refuse, but then his shoulders sagged a bit. “Okay, I’ll let ya babysit me for the rest of the night.”

  Chapter 4

  While he waited for Boz to bring his car down to the entrance of the complex, Jake realized how tired he felt and how his head pounded with every heartbeat. Damn. That blasted bum really gave me a thump. Tomorrow—or make that today—is Sunday. I’d forgotten. I don’t forget things like that. Maybe Boz was right and I do have a concussion. He found it hard to hold onto a thought long enough to finish it. That didn’t seem like a good sign either.

  Just then, Boz pulled up at the curb. Jake managed to get into the car—a fully restored vintage Mustang. He was almost too weary and hurt to appreciate the car. He couldn’t find the words to tell Boz what a great set of wheels he had.

  When they got to Boz’s home, Athena met them at the door. She gave both men a reproachful look after she sniffed Jake over and realized Snick was not with him. She sat down with a small whine.

  Boz stooped to pet her. “I’m sorry, baby girl. Snick is home. Maybe we can go get him later. Right now we gotta make do with his pop.”

  Paused in the entry, Jake waited for Boz to show him where to go. He leaned a shoulder against the wall. He wished he dared sit on the small antique bench, which looked too fragile to support him. Though it might be modern, the thing looked centuries old. What he could see of the house was neat to a fault and attractively decorated in a Spanish colonial and native southwest manner. Trust Boz to have good taste.

  As Boz rose from attending to his dog, he gestured toward an arched opening to the right. “Second door on the left is the guest room. First one’s the john. There’s aspirin in the cabinet over the sink. You’d better take a couple for your head. If you need anything else, just holler. I have a couple of calls to make and need to get some notes down while things are fresh in my mind. I’ll be checking on you every hour or so, though.”

  Jake couldn’t even summon the will to protest. Actually, Boz’s approach made sense. He managed to find the bathroom, take a leak, gulp down two aspirins, and then stagger a few more steps and fall across the bed, just kicking off his shoes. He stayed dressed, and he was asleep almost before he settled onto the mattress.

  It didn’t seem like five minutes had passed before he awoke with a jolt. Boz shook him by the shoulder, a trace of alarm in his voice as he repeated Jake’s name several times.


  “Come on, man. Wake up. Don’t be going into a coma on me here.”

  Finally, Jake pried his eyes open and summoned the capacity to reply. “Errghhmmfff. I’m awright.”

  Boz shone a flashlight into his face. “Well, your eyes respond to the light. I’m gonna bed down across the hall, but I’m a light sleeper. Expect another wake-up call or two before daylight. You ought to get out of those clothes. Can’t be comfortable sleeping that way.”

  After Boz left, Jake sat up. Although it was difficult and clumsy, he managed to unfasten his jeans and slither out of them. He dropped them to the floor and then dragged his T-shirt off. After that, he crawled under the dark plaid spread and found a pillow to slip under his head before darkness closed in again.

  Although he vaguely sensed when Boz came in the next couple of times to check on him, he barely awoke enough to respond in a fuzzy way. By the fourth time, the sun was up, and he was awake. On impulse, he decided to play possum and see what would happen. A quirky plan began to take shape in his mind. That kiss still hung heavy in his awareness, a bit of unfinished business that demanded some answers.

  He heard Boz’s soft steps, muffled by the throw rugs that padded the bedroom floor. He heard Boz say his name softly and then more loudly. He kept his eyes shut and did not stir.

  “Damn it, man, what’s wrong? Wake up.” Boz’s voice held more than a trace of concern.

  Then Boz reached down and caught Jake’s shoulder, shaking him, although not hard.

  Quick as lightning, Jake reached up and caught the other man with both hands, gripping his upper arms tightly. Caught off balance, Boz sprawled down on top of Jake, emitting a gasp, and then a woof as he scored a solid hit on Jake’s chest.

  “What the…”

  Jake’s mouth muffled Boz’s startled exclamation. The detective recovered from his surprise quickly and returned Jake’s kiss with equal ardor and enthusiasm.

  Boz wore only a short terry robe, loosely belted at his waist. Jake made fast work of the tie and soon had the robe open. His questing hands roved over Boz’s sleek, muscular torso, tracing every line and angle, familiarizing himself with the smaller, leaner man’s frame. Boz lost little time in returning that attention. His nimble hands charted the territory of Jake’s chest, combing through the thick mat of dark hair. He found the flat tan nipples nestled in the curls and tweaked them into hard points.

  They rolled together on the bed, bodies straining for contact on as much of their surfaces as possible. Jake had been half-hard before he pulled Boz down on top of him. It took only seconds before he had a real boner. The way it felt, Boz was in the same state.

  Reaching down between their twisting bodies, Jake wrapped his hand around Boz’s cock. It pulsed and twitched in his grasp, while Boz sucked in a hard breath and let it out in a hiss. “Sweet mother…”

  “Tell me what you want, what you need.” Jake’s voice came out in a hoarse, muted tone, rife with urgency and hunger.

  “You, us, everything,” Boz ground out. “Damn it, I wasn’t going to let this happen. It’s too fuckin’ late to back out now, though. I want to taste you, feel you ramming into my ass, and then take my turn getting your best. I want you to suck and fuck my brains out right after I do all that to you.”

  Then he stopped for a moment, reared back on extended arms, and looked down at Jake with a sudden concern. “How’s your head? Are you sure you’re up to this?”

  Jake laughed. “Hey, I started it didn’t I? If I didn’t think I was able, I’d have had more sense than that. The only head that needs attention now is the one you’re about to take hold of.”

  “All right. You’re going to pay for scaring me shitless last night when you didn’t show up at the time we’d set. Until I found you—then it was as bad or worse when I did. Oh, hell, I was afraid I’d have to take that shittin’ little dog of yours to raise.”

  Jake hesitated a minute. “Fuck. Snick. I need to go home and let him out.”

  Boz chuckled. “Been there and done that, right after the second time I checked on you this morning. Swiped your keys out of your pants to get in. He and Athena are out in the backyard right now having themselves a two-dog riot. He’s fine. Thank the gods they’re both fixed. They’d make some crazy puppies.”

  “Man, I think I love you! How many buds would make the time to take care of my dog? Quit fooling around then and make good on your big words.”

  For the next twenty minutes or so, there was nothing in Jake’s awareness except the smooth strokes of Boz’s hand and then the wet, clinging heat of the other man’s mouth on his prick. Boz knew how to make it last…and last. Jake thought he was going to die if he didn’t come, but also that he’d surely die when he did.

  His tension would spiral up to the brink. Then, each time, Boz would ease off, change his rhythm or squeeze the head of Jake’s cock at just the right instant to stop the climax. After a few seconds of total agony, he’d start in again. It was wonderful and terrible. It was, without a doubt, the most maddening, excruciating, and intense blowjob Jake had ever survived. It felt like a miracle, almost a nightmare, but a miracle too, all rolled into one.

  At last he did come, in an explosive ejaculation that felt as if he was coming apart from the inside out. After the last shuddering spurt, he lay limp, for the moment too spent to move.

  In his position between Jake’s sprawled legs, Biz rocked back on his heels. “Don’t get too comfortable just yet,” he warned. “I’m not through, and neither are you.”

  Jake recovered a lot faster than he’d thought he could. Part of that was due to Boz’s skillful teasing and maybe part to his own surprising hunger. Yeah, I do want more. The thought came as soon as Boz flopped down beside him on the bed and took his face in both hands, looking steadily into his eyes for the space of several heartbeats.

  For those moments, Boz’s eyes were nothing close to opaque. Dark, yes, but lit from someplace deep inside with a tangle of fierce emotions. Desire was there, along with a trace of stark fear, the shadow of past pain, and the spark of current joy.

  Jake realized he felt most of the same things. Can this work? Will it last? Is there even any use in hoping for something beyond this day and hour?

  He couldn’t answer any of those questions, at least not right now. Maybe it didn’t matter. He had this hour and this day so, by God, he’d use the hell out of them. He grabbed Boz and crushed the two of them together. Within moments he was hard again, his cock thrusting into the space between Boz’s thighs, bumping, tangling and fencing with Boz’s equally eager prick.

  “Roll over,” Jake demanded. “Get your knees under you and that great ass up where I can get to it.”

  Boz complied. “There’s lube and condoms in the nightstand.” His words were muffled with his face half-buried in the tangle of bedding. Jake found the tube, nearly new, and slathered most of a generous squeeze onto his prick, stroking the rest down the crack of Boz’s ass. He poked one finger and then two into the tight waiting hole. Boz clenched on them, made a sound half between a whimper and a moan.

  “Don’t worry, I’m ready. Fuck me.”

  Jake did. He’d intended to take it slow and easy this first time. He found he couldn’t. As soon as his initial thrust took him past the outer ring of muscle, he was lost, humping away as urgently as he ever had, driving, seeking, and claiming. Even if he came too soon, it was good—better than good—outstanding to fantastic. How he could do it twice so quickly he wasn’t sure. Oh, man, though, what a ride. Even though he knew the next time he’d take longer to get up again, that was okay. It was Boz’s turn now anyway, and Jake hoped he could give as good as he’d received.

  * * * *

  Boz collapsed onto the bed. His trembling legs refused to hold him up any longer. He felt Jake pull free with a momentary pang of loss when the connection ended. That wasn’t good—this was supposed to be about defusing the heat between them, having a good time. Nothing more or deeper or—God forbid—emotional. But it was. Shit. It rea
lly was.

  He lay still a long moment before he felt Jake’s urgent hands grasp him by his hips to flip him onto his back. The big man managed the task effortlessly. Those sculpted muscles were for real, the result of hard work and an active life, not the overdeveloped for show physique of a body builder.

  Boz worked to stay fit because some of his days were very physical. Many were not, though, so most days he ran five miles, and the rest he tried to spend an hour or two at the gym. He couldn’t afford to have his body let him down at a critical point. Now that was paying off in another way.

  Jake’s powerful, work-roughened hands roved over Boz’s body, shaping him like molten clay. Every touch woke nerve endings and sent flickers of electric heat and hunger dancing through his system. His cock stood stiff, quivering with urgency, but Jake took his time shifting to that spot.

  Finally, finally. When Boz felt a big hand close around his shaft, he had to fight the urge to come at that very instant. Jake, however, wasn’t going to let it happen too fast. Although he might lack some of Boz’s finesse, he seemed to have learned a trick or two. Boz found he could be teased as well as he could tease. There were long moments of blissful agony before Jake finally settled at his side and bent forward to slide his lips over the head of Boz’s cock.

  Oh, man. Oh, my gods, now I know what awesome feels like.

  Once Jake started sucking, Boz knew it would be over fast. For the duration, time had no meaning. It might have been seconds or hours. When his hips bucked off the bed, Jake held him down. Heat, wetness, pressure, and tension ratcheted to a shimmering tautness.

  When the dam finally broke, he exploded into Jake’s mouth so hard he feared the other man might choke. Jake didn’t; he didn’t pull back or spit or gag or flinch either. He didn’t lift his head until the final spurt subsided.

  “It ain’t over till it’s over, you know,” Jake reminded him. “I’ll give you about five to get it together, get it up, and put me where you want me.”

 

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