by Webster, K
I have to get to him.
The fire is at Dante’s address.
A drive that normally takes five to ten minutes feels like hours. When I finally pass the Wolffish Luxury Condos site on First Street and have eyes on the B&B, my stomach does a somersault.
The gazebo.
I’m thanking my lucky stars that it’s not the B&B on flames, but the brand-new gazebo behind it. The firemen are already at the scene, blasting the flames with water. Pulling into the drive, I put my vehicle in park and rush out, searching for Dante.
He’s standing in the yard, huddled with Shelly and Callan, both of whom are teary-eyed. Dante’s jaw is clenched and worry gleams in his eyes. I walk right up to the three of them, flinging my arms around them.
“Are you guys okay?”
They all mumble out that they are and I reluctantly pull myself away. Dante’s eyes are ringed in dark circles from lack of sleep.
“What happened?” I ask, forcing myself into sheriff mode rather than worried boyfriend.
He’s not your boyfriend, Jax.
“I woke up when my phone app was chiming, indicating activity on the cameras,” Dante grumbles. “When I opened the app, the gazebo was on fire. I immediately called the fire department.”
“Good,” I tell him, clasping his shoulder and squeezing. “I’ll need to take a look at that footage in a bit. Let me see what the fire captain has to say. If there’s evidence, I’ll need to bag it.”
Dante gives me a nod, his eyes flickering with appreciation. I don’t want to feel appreciated, though. Gazebos don’t randomly catch fire in the middle of winter. Someone started this fire. I knew the silence from the vandal was too good to be true. The perp didn’t just move on. No, the person doing this just escalated their crimes. We can add arson to vandalism and hate crimes.
I round the B&B and walk over to the charred and smoking gazebo. Owen James, the captain of the fire department, frowns at me as I approach.
“Bad news?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
He nods, letting loose a frustrated sigh. “Arson.”
“You’re sure?”
He motions a gloved hand at a melted plastic gas canister. “Someone did this on purpose. Question is, why?”
“This isn’t the first attack on this property,” I reveal, scowling at the ruined gazebo. “I think we have a homophobic prick trying to make a point.”
“I didn’t think we had evil in Brigs Ferry Bay,” Owen gripes. “Guess I was wrong.”
I spend the next half hour processing the scene. Brie eventually shows up to take the evidence to the station while I continue the investigation. I’ll need to interview all three Kincaids and any staff members on site. Then I’ll need to look at the video footage.
Shelly and Callan were both sleeping, so there wasn’t much they knew. I had more questions for Dante, though, knowing he went home only a few hours before the fire was started, so he might have more information.
“Let’s go to your office where we can speak privately,” I tell him, gesturing down the hall.
Once he closes the door, I push him against it, crushing him in a hug. He clings to me, his body tense and breathing hard. I kiss the side of his neck and whisper promises that we’ll find this motherfucker. Finally, I break away slightly so I can look into his tired eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I croak out. “I’m sorry this shit keeps happening to you.”
I press my lips to his and kiss him gently in a way that I hope comforts him after such a stressful morning. The kiss is short and I pull away long before I’m ready because we really do need to find out what he knows.
“What time did you leave my place last night?” I stroke his messy hair from his eyes, settling my hands at the nape of his neck.
“Around two.”
“Did you run into anyone along the way?”
His eyes cut away from mine as though he’s afraid to say.
“Dante,” I urge. “If you saw someone, tell me.”
“No one,” he grunts out. “I drove home and didn’t encounter any other cars along the way. When I got here, I didn’t see anyone lurking or anything. Went straight inside and to bed.”
Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.
“Okay,” I say, pecking his lips. “Let’s look at the footage to see what we can find.”
We break apart and he walks over to his desk. I drag a chair around to his side as he pulls up the software. He skims through the movement detector and finds where it started before hitting play.
“There,” I say as a hooded figure creeps along the dark edge of the screen.
A man—it has to be a man based on the size and gait—walks over to the gazebo, a plastic gas can in hand. He empties the contents of the container before tossing it into the middle. Then, he turns his back to the sea where the wind is blowing from, facing the camera to light a match. For a split second, part of his face lights up, and then when he tosses the match, the screen whites out because of the bright blaze. He runs off without looking back.
“See if we catch him from any other cameras. Once you’re done, come back to the gazebo and see if you can freeze the image where part of his face shows.” I squeeze Dante’s knee. “I’m going to have them print the picture in the paper along with an award for anyone with information leading to the arrest of this asshole.”
None of the other cameras yield anything, so all I have to go on is the picture of the flash of his face. Dante emails me the still frame, which is unfortunately shadowed and blurry, and I forward it over to Paul at the paper so he’ll print it in the next issue. Anything is better than nothing.
Finally, I’m finished with my work. It’s a good thing too because my man needs taking care of. He’s seconds from breaking apart.
Bloodshot eyes. Pale face. Dark, sunken bags under his eyes.
“Come on,” I rumble. “Let’s get you back to bed. You’re about to pass out, man.”
His hazel eyes meet mine and the crack I’d seen before seems to split him apart before me. Tears pool in his eyes and then one races down his cheek.
“This is all my fault,” he whispers. “I moved us here. I did this. I brought this on my family.”
I won’t let him take this shit on his shoulders.
None of this is his fault.
“Don’t do that,” I growl. “I won’t let you.”
He doesn’t fight me when I stand and take his hand in mine. We exit his office. My first instinct is to pull away and hide, but then I’m reminded of what he just went through and how much he’s hurting. I’m not that selfish as to do that to him. Not now.
And of course my biggest fear happens.
Shelly rounds the corner, her eyes growing wide as saucers. I give her a grim smile before walking him into his room and closing the door. Dante lets me undress him down to his boxers. I help him back into bed and am about to leave him to rest when he grabs my wrist.
“Jax…can you stay for a little while?”
I give him a nod. “For a little while. Let me text Brie.”
Once I let her know I’ll be out of commission for a bit and to handle any police business, I strip down to my underwear and crawl into bed with Dante. His bed is bigger than mine. Softer. And smells just like him. I love it immediately and long to spend nights here too.
Dante launches himself at me, wrapping his strong body around mine and clinging. I stroke his arm and kiss his hair, hoping to calm all his fears and worries.
“Tell me something about you,” Dante murmurs. “That not many people know.”
“Hmm,” I ponder. “Pretty much everyone here knows everything about me.”
“Not everything.”
We’re silent as I let that sink in. He’s right. I do have some secrets, him being one of them.
“I like camping,” I admit with a smile, “but I’m afraid of wolves.”
Dante chuckles. “Everyone’s afraid of wolves.”
“Accurate, but there’s an added lay
er of fear with me. I’ve encountered three while camping. I don’t like the way they look at me.”
“Like they want to eat you?”
“No,” I grumble. “Worse.”
“What’s worse than that?”
“It’s like they can see inside my soul. It’s freaky as fuck.” I shudder, just thinking about the last wolf I stumbled upon. “There’s all sorts of old stories that say Eskimos from up north migrated here. They were cursed and banished to have to continue out their lives as wolves.”
“Someone watches too much Netflix.”
“Perhaps,” I agree. “But tell my head that when I look at one of those creepy fuckers.”
We both laugh.
“What about you?”
Dante drags his fingertip in lazy circles on my abdomen. “In high school, I hated this guy so much because he was a total asshole. Super competitive at school and obsessed with punctuality. I decided to fuck with him a bit.” He groans. “It was supposed to be a harmless prank. Trap him in the locker room after lacrosse practice so he’d be late for wherever it was he always ran off to.”
“Teenagers are such dicks,” I say, shaking my head.
“What I didn’t know was his father was a psycho drunk. If he was ever late, he’d beat his ass into oblivion.”
“Oh, Jesus.”
“As soon as he started losing his shit in the locker room, I ran in to let him know I was sorry, but I didn’t remember to put a stopper in the door.”
“You locked yourself in with the guy? Dumbass.”
“He was pissed. Threw a punch at me once he realized it was a prank. Threw another one when he realized I’d locked the both of us in there.”
“How long were you trapped there?”
“All weekend.”
“All weekend?!”
“Luckily, there was a vending machine in there and between us, we had enough money to live off snacks until Monday morning.”
“Your parents weren’t worried?” I ask.
“Back then, I was always running around. My dad was busy running his company. Mom had Shelly and Callan to look after. I wasn’t missed.”
“And the other guy?”
“His dad went out looking for him, wasted beyond belief, and ran into three cars. When he got out, he tried to beat up the guy in one of the cars saying he started it. Police nabbed him and sent his ass to prison.”
“Did the guy hate you after that?”
“Nah,” Dante says with a smile in his voice. “By then, I wore him down and made him my friend. He’d just turned eighteen. Didn’t have anywhere else to go. My dad let him stay with us after that. And when it came time for college, a ‘mystery donor’ paid for his tuition at the same college I was attending.”
“Your dad?”
“Yeah.”
“Your dad seemed like a cool guy to take him in like that.”
“Dad loved Adrian like a son. Even let him intern at his company after college. Adrian did everything he could to please my father, but Dad knew he wasn’t interested in the work he did. There were other passions that Adrian kept hidden in his efforts to please.”
“Did he encourage Adrian to chase those dreams?”
Dante laughs. “Adrian would have denied having dreams at all. Dad fired him.”
“What? That’s cruel.”
“He also got him a job at a city magazine working for one of the most brilliant men in New York.”
“Was Adrian mad?”
“No, Adrian loved it. I’d never seen him smile before. Ever. My best friend is serious all the time. But, while working for that magazine, he was truly happy. Everett, the man who ran the magazine company, appreciated Adrian so much that when he retired, he sold the company to Adrian for a ridiculously low price.”
“And now?”
“He was happy for a long time, but…”
“But?”
“I think once Adrian realizes he can go after what he truly wants, he’ll be happy. He’s been so disciplined in doing what it takes to please those above him, he never pleases himself.”
“All this because you locked him in the locker room. That was a dick move, by the way,” I tease, chuckling.
“That dick move gave me a friend who got me through the hardest times of my life. When Mom died. When Toby broke off the wedding and dumped me. Then when Dad died and I became guardian of Callan.”
“Sounds like a good friend. You miss him. I can tell.”
“Yeah,” Dante says. “I do.”
“Maybe you should call him,” I ponder aloud. “Another life crisis and all.”
He squeezes my middle and his lips find my neck. “Nah, I have you now. And at least you suck dick.”
I smack his arm and we both laugh, but my chest does puff out a little.
I’m the person helping him through a hard time.
Me.
I mean something to Dante Kincaid, which means I cannot fuck this up between us. I’ll need to figure my shit out so I can find a way to keep him.
Dante
The gazebo fire nearly did me in. I was losing my shit, barely holding it together for my family, when my knight in not-so-shiny armor showed up with a fierce need to protect. It wasn’t until we were alone that I was able to fall apart.
Guilt weighs heavily on my shoulders, making them physically ache. Brigs Ferry Bay was supposed to be our new beginning. We were supposed to make a new, wholesome, healthy life here. It was where we were supposed to settle.
Instead, I feel more unsettled than I have my entire life.
We’re being targeted by a homophobic psycho. The townspeople aren’t welcoming to the new business owners. And Jax is everything I crave and need but will never fully have.
“Look at me,” Jax rumbles, his brown eyes darting back and forth as he tries to search my mind through my eyes like they’re windows to my soul. “Everything is going to be okay.”
His reassurance has me melting. I reach up and stroke a strand of his hair from his brow. It’s messy from being out in the wind as he worked the crime scene. The scent of smoke should make my stomach recoil, but instead, it makes me want to inhale him.
“Right now, it feels that way.”
His smile is sweet and heartwarming. “Let me take care of you.”
I know he means right now, but my heart hears them as forever.
Warm lips meet mine, chasing away any doubt-filled thoughts. All I know now is Jax’s pine and smoke scent. His reverent yet rough touch. The small groans of desire he spills into my mouth as we kiss.
I could get lost in him.
Hell, I already have.
This past month has been a whirlwind—all wrapped up on Jax.
With nothing but our underwear between us, I can feel every groove and vein on his thick cock. Pre-cum dots the fabric of my boxers. I shamelessly lift my hips, eager for the friction his body creates with mine.
“Greedy,” he says with a grin against my lips. “Let me take care of you, boy.”
“You can’t steal my lines.” I nip at his bottom lip. “Come up with your own.”
“Fine, big city man, show me your dick because I forgot what it looks like.”
He pulls away to grab the waistband of my boxers, tugging them down my thighs. My heavy erection bounces out, slapping against my stomach. His stare is ravenous as he drinks in my naked state.
“Now that these are gone,” he says, chucking my boxers across the room and making me laugh, “I can taste you.”
All humor is gone as he nuzzles his nose in my trimmed pubic hair. There’s something primal and feral about the way he inhales me as though he’s memorizing my scent. He runs his hot, open mouth over my balls, sucking one into his mouth, making me moan. After sucking on it with just enough pressure to nearly have me coming, he pops off and grins at me.
“I like feasting on you in your own bed.” His dark eyes flash in a predatory way that has my heart rate spiking. “Your smell is stronger here. I love it.”
With strong, commanding hands, he grips my thighs and urges them apart, exposing all the sensitive parts of myself to him. His breath is teasing as he blows the air against my asshole.
“I’ll never be satisfied with anyone else,” Jax murmurs, leaning in to run his tongue from my hole to my balls and then to the base of my throbbing dick. “Everything with you feels like so much more than I ever thought I could have.”
His words are causing my heart to war with my baser feelings. I want to grab each possessive, caring thing he says and hold them deep inside me, but my body is on fire with the need for him to devour me and fuck me.
“Jax,” I plead. “You’re teasing me.”
A wolfish grin splits his face. “I like seeing you vulnerable.”
He nips at the inside of my thigh before running his tongue back to my hole. I groan as he circles it around and around again, driving me insane with the fluttery pleasure it delivers. He gets it nice and wet with his tongue before exploring deeper with just the tip of it. A hiss escapes me at the fantastic sensation of it.
Jax may be less experienced in the sex department with men, but fuck does he catch on quick. Each time he does this to me, I don’t think he can get any better. I’m proved wrong each time because he maddens me past the point of sanity with just his tongue.
I reach down to grab my dick, eager for more, but he grips my wrist, jerking it away. Dark brown eyes bore into mine and I read his command loud and clear, even with his tongue inside my ass. Don’t touch.
I’m a panting, needy mess by the time he grants me a reprieve, pulling his tongue out. He sucks on two of his fingers, heat burning in his stare, before easing one and then both into me. My body, now very much used to him, stretches to accommodate each digit. Curling his fingers, he seeks out my prostate gland, making me jolt the instant he makes contact. A knowing grin teases his full lips. His other hand finally pays my dick some attention, lazily stroking it much like he does my prostate.
“You love toying with me,” I rasp out.
“I absolutely love it.”
My eyes snap closed when his lips wrap around the crown of my cock. His tongue is fucking magical as it teases and caresses each sensitive nerve ending. I’m unable to keep my fingers from his hair as I urge him to quicken his pace.