by Webster, K
Dante
This was not the plan. The plan was to ignore Jax’s text. To find some twink to warm my bed for the night. Instead, my dumb ass replied to him, agreed to meet up with him, and then damn near dropped to my knees to give him head in a packed club.
I’m losing it.
But, at the same time, I feel like I’m finding it.
With Jax in my car with me, his pine and masculine cologne scent filling my car, all is right in my world. Soon, I’ll have him in my bed, too.
It’ll always be my bed and not my life with Jaxson Bell. I’d seen it written all over his face earlier at the club. When he realized Cato caught us, his face turned pale white and his eyes frantically searched the dance floor as though people were waiting nearby to catch him being gay.
I should have walked away right then.
It would have been the smart thing to do.
Rather than leaving him, I invited him home. I can’t undo my choice now, nor do I want to. I’m desperate to strip him down and make love. I’ve missed him so fucking much.
The drive to the B&B is completely silent. Neither of us utters a word. Sexual tension and unspoken words are the only energy buzzing between us. By the time I shut off my vehicle, I’m eager to exit the car and breathe in the cold, invigorating air.
“Shelly’s out and Callan’s probably in his room,” I say to him, anticipating his fear of being caught without him having to say it.
“Okay,” he mutters.
He follows me inside and I shut the door. We take off our coats, hanging them on the rack. His hand finds mine, linking our fingers together. The warmth of his touch soothes my battered heart. My chest aches, but I ignore it as I lead him to my bedroom. I’ve barely shut the door before he’s on me, ripping on my shirt, sending buttons flying. I greedily tug at his Henley, needing to see every sculpted muscle on his perfect body his shirt has been teasing at all evening.
“Off,” I rasp against his lips as I pull up his shirt.
He allows me to peel it off him before he’s back to ridding me of my dress shirt. I fumble at his jeans with one hand as I shake out of my shirt on the other arm. His lips find my neck, sucking and nibbling. Groaning, I run my fingers through his gelled hair. He undoes my slacks and the moment his large hand slides beneath my boxers to grip my dick, I fucking whimper.
“I missed you so goddamn much,” he murmurs. “So goddamn much.”
“Take your pants off,” I bark out. “I need you inside me.”
He growls, yanking my pants and boxers down my thighs. While I shed the rest of my clothes, he kicks off his boots and strips down to his socks. I smirk at the sight of his hot, glorious self standing in nothing but a pair of black socks.
His lips kick up in amusement. “What?”
“You’re going to fuck me in your socks, Sheriff?”
“My feet are cold as fuck, big city man. Hell yeah, I’m going to fuck you in my socks.”
Warmth fills my entire being. The guys I’ve been with in the past have all been pretty boys, obsessed with their appearance and style. Jaxson is a hot, small town dork, but I’ve never known anyone so fucking sexy in all my life.
As though he can read my mind, he grabs the back of my neck, hauling me to him for a searing kiss. The kiss is frantic and urgent, as we attempt to make up for lost time. He breaks away only long enough to grab the lube and a condom from the bedside drawer.
“On the bed,” he commands. “I want to kiss you while I fuck you.”
“There’s the boring missionary sheriff I know and love.”
I freeze at my choice of words. His eyes flash, clearly catching me and reading more into them than I meant them.
I don’t love him.
I don’t love him.
I don’t.
Escaping his penetrating stare, I climb onto the bed and flop onto my back, spreading my thighs to make room for him. My dick bounces against my stomach, dripping with pre-cum. He prowls after me, tossing the condom beside me. Kneeling between my parted legs, he pours a generous amount of lube on his fingers before sliding them along my crease and seeking out my hole.
“I missed this,” he rumbles, gently pushing against the tight flesh. “Being inside you.” His finger pushes all the way in, causing me to burn in a delicious way. “I love being inside your ass. I love when you’re inside mine. I love…” His dark eyes bore into me.
Closing my eyes, I escape his stare. He gets my attention, though, when he presses another finger inside me, stretching me to accommodate the intrusion. His fingers dive and twist as he readies me to take his dick.
“I need you,” I rasp out. “No more teasing. Just fuck me, Jax.”
His fingers slide out. He quickly tears open a condom, rolling it on over his dick, and then the thick crown of his cock pushes into me. My eyes fly open as he inches forward. All of his chest, shoulders, and bicep muscles bulge as he holds himself above me.
“Your ass was made to take my dick,” he rasps out, brown eyes liquid fire. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
You’d think we’d been parted for years not days, but it sure as hell feels like it.
I dig my heels into his ass, drawing him closer. His lips find mine for an intoxicating kiss. He keeps his thrusts into me hard, but each time he pulls out, he does it in a slow, reverent way. His hand that’s still slick from lube wraps around my dick, teasing and taunting with each languid stroke.
“You kill me,” I groan, my fingers biting into his hard biceps.
“Don’t die on me, Dante,” he croons. “I’m just getting started with you.”
I hate the way his words make me feel. Fucking hopeful. Like he might suddenly get over his fear of what others think and claim me as his. That we could be a real couple—more solid than what my ex and I could have ever had.
Our time for talking is over. The kiss we share is soul-consuming. He drives into me harder and harder, his moans growing louder with each passing moment. I come without warning, hot cum spilling over my abs. It set him off as well because within two thrusts, he’s chasing after me. He falls against my chest, both of us panting heavily.
“Dante?”
The way he says my name is filled with such sadness and desperation, my heart cracks down the middle, allowing every imperfect part of him to flood inside and drown me.
“Yeah, baby?”
He sighs happily, his lips brushing along the column of my neck. “Please give me another chance.”
“This was supposed to be just sex,” I remind him, hating how the words sound on my tongue. “It was fine when we were just fucking, but everything’s getting messy now.”
“We won’t have to live in secret much longer.” His dick slides out of me, making me wince, and he sits up, dark eyes probing me. “I promise. Just…just give me some time to work it all out. Please.”
I close my eyes, breaking his stare. “I’ll run you back to your Tahoe.”
Silence.
“Yeah, sure, okay,” he finally croaks out, defeat in his tone. “As long as this is just goodbye for now, we can figure out the rest later.”
“Goodbye for now.”
I throw both of us that bone, because despite the warning bells going off in my head, all I can think about is having Jaxson Bell sooner rather than later.
“Dante’s depressed,” Callan tattles over a mouthful of bacon.
I shoot him the bird. “Thanks, you little shit.”
“Depressed?” Shelly pokes her head out of the kitchen. “What? Why? Tell us what’s wrong.”
Callan laughs. “And Shelly’s in love.”
“Callan!” she shrieks, dropping a fresh plate of pancakes on the table. “I am not. It’s called a date, dummy.”
“Do you bring your contractor into your bed after all your dates?” Callan asks, his brow lifted in amusement.
Her face turns bright red and she shoots me a helpless look.
“You’re sleeping with Hans?” I bark out a laugh. “I thought you
hated that guy.”
“There’s a fine line between love and hate,” she grumbles, jerkily forking several pancakes onto her plate. “He crossed over it when I wasn’t looking.”
“You two really ought to keep it down,” Callan gripes. “No one wants to hear their sister get fucked.”
Callan and I both grimace while Shelly burns brighter with embarrassment.
“My sex life isn’t up for discussion,” she clips out, pointing her fork at me. “Back to your depression. What’s wrong?”
I groan, choosing to stuff more eggs into my mouth so I don’t have to answer her. They’re both staring at me expectantly as I swallow down my food.
“My dating life is a mess, but I’ll sort it out eventually,” I throw out. “What about you, little brother? You’re awfully happy lately, which really contradicts your emo vibe.”
He flings a pancake at me. It lands perfectly in the middle of my plate. Smirking at him, I start buttering it, waiting for him to spill.
“I really like a guy at school. He’s hot, but he’s not into me like that.” He shrugs, breaking eye contact.
This sounds familiar.
It better not be Zak.
One Kincaid messing around with a Bell is enough. Two is a recipe for disaster.
“Zak?” Shelly asks.
Callan laughs. “No. I mean, I like Zak. As a friend. We’re just not compatible in that way.”
“And you know this because…” Shelly encourages.
“Because we fucked around and it was just okay. I mean, we both got off, but there weren’t any sparks or anything.”
I choke on my bite of pancake and Shelly groans.
“What?” Callan asks, his eyes lit up with mischief. “You two asked for details.”
“Not explicit ones,” Shelly throws back.
“Explicit would be if I told you how I sucked his d—”
“La-la-la!” Shelly squeals. “I can’t hear you.”
Callan cracks up laughing. “Zak was just curious, you know? I thought he should practice with someone he knows and trusts. You know, in case he really isn’t gay. I wanted to save him the embarrassment later.”
“Such a hero,” I deadpan.
“Don’t tell Jax,” Callan barks out, growing serious. “I shouldn’t have told you two.”
Shelly winks at me and smiles at Callan. “The Kincaids are great at secret keeping. We won’t tell as long as you promise to keep the sordid details to yourself.”
“I can only make that promise if Hans doesn’t make that dumb coming sound ever again.” Callan shudders. “Promise, Shelly Belly.”
She smirks. “I don’t think it’s a dumb sound. It’s actually kind of hot.”
“I’ve officially lost my appetite,” I tease. “You two are the worst.”
They’re also the best.
It’s moments like these with my siblings that I’m proud of how far we’ve come and all we’ve endured as a family.
I’m going to need them to get through my uncertain future, that’s for damn sure.
Jaxson
I stare down at my phone, wondering how to fix me and Dante. When we’re together, all is right in the world. I know he feels it too, but the moment we leave the bedroom and reality smacks us in the face, we’re reminded all is not right. Especially in my world.
I have to make it better.
Grow some damn balls.
Be a man and claim mine.
The bells chime as someone walks into the station. I set my phone down to take a sip of my coffee, definitely needing it after the night I had with Dante. As soon as my eyes connect with familiar brown eyes, all hope is snuffed in an instant.
“Dad,” I grunt out, sitting straighter in my chair, a habit I developed over the years whenever he would enter the room.
His expression is stony as he walks my way, snow from his boots tracking in a mess. “Morning, Son.”
“You want some coffee?” I offer. “Brie stepped out to go to a fender bender on Blue Shark Boulevard, but I can make a cup almost as good as she does.”
He waves me off, not bothering to settle into the chair across from my desk. His eyes skim over the surface of it, slightly flaring at the open files. Between Dante’s case, the Rainbow Vigilante, and all my Chamber shit, my plate is fuller than usual.
“A little organization wouldn’t hurt,” he says, eyeing the scattered files. “Should I send your mother over here to help?”
I grimace at the thought of Mom going through all my shit. “No, thanks, I’ve got it. What can I do for you, Dad?”
He crosses his arms over his chest, his brow furling as he looks down his nose at me. I’m reminded of being a teenager. It’s the same stern look he had when me and my brothers were in trouble.
“Did you hear the BFB Daily Herald got broken into? Someone tampered with the printing press.”
I gape at him. “No shit? Why hasn’t Paul been in to file a report?”
Dad scoffs. “You’re really asking me that question. After all this.”
“After all what?” I demand, not liking his tone.
“You,” Dad growls. “Making an embarrassment of me.”
Heat lashes up my neck and warms my cheeks. Does he know about me and Dante? Did someone see us kissing at Blur and tattle?
“I, uh, can explain—”
“You’re the goddamn sheriff, Jaxson. That means you have to do actual police work.”
I blink at him in confusion, taking a minute to catch up to what he’s saying. He doesn’t know about Dante, which is great, but I don’t like the direction he’s headed either.
“What the hell do you think I’m doing?” I bite out, finally finding my voice. “I’ve been working on both the Rainbow Vigilante and the BFB Stalker cases tirelessly.”
Dad scoffs, shaking his head. “I knew you weren’t capable of handling this job if any real crime happened upon our city.”
My entire body tenses at his words. Dad was always known for being hard on us boys, but he’s never usually downright cruel. Today, though, the animosity is rolling off him in hot, angry waves.
“I went to the academy in Portland just like you did, Dad. Top of my class if you’ll remember. I’ve been at this job for years. Don’t come into my station insulting my abilities.” I seethe, my chest rising and falling with each breath I take.
“You’re distracted,” he throws back, his lip curled up in disgust. “Befriending that city slicker who brings trouble on himself and babysitting your tyrant of a brother. I swear, your mother and I did all we could to make sure you all turned out right, but every damn one of you are a disappointment.”
I rise from my chair, glowering at him. “Mr. Kincaid brings trouble on himself? Maybe I should sit you down and interrogate you. Do you harbor ill feelings toward Mr. Kincaid?”
Brown eyes flare in shock. “Me? Don’t be insulting. I’m not your BFB Stalker. And it’s a stupid name to begin with. It’s probably just some kid pulling some pranks, not someone stalking the faggot.”
The breath is knocked out of my lungs as if my father punched me right in the chest. My eyes widen in horror and my entire body trembles.
“Why do you hate the gays in this town?” I demand, trying and failing to reel in my disgust toward my father. “What the fuck did they ever do to you?”
“Watch your tone with me, Son,” Dad snarls. “I’ll tell you what they did to me. They keep popping up in this town like a Whac-A-Mole game at the arcade. As fast as I try to run them off, they keep sticking their heads out. It’s a bad image for Brigs Ferry Bay. Longtimers are moving out left and right just to escape them.”
Unbelievable.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to throw at him that I’m gay, and there’s a good possibility Zak is too, but I’ll be damned if I give him any ammunition right now when he’s on his warpath.
“Jax,” Cato sings as he clomps down the stairs. “I may have another cat for you. This one is only missing a few tufts of hair, bu
t it’ll grow—” He stops when he sees us clearly in a heated conversation, plastering on a fake smile. “Oh, hi, Mayor Bell.”
“Whack,” Dad growls, not acknowledging Cato and pinning me with a dark stare.
An explosion of intense hatred explodes out of me. “Get out!” I roar, pointing at the door. “Get out of my station, or so help me, I will cuff your ass to the goddamn chair while I file a hate crime report on you!”
Dad’s face turns purple at my outburst. He turns on his heel, storming past Cato, clipping him on the shoulder on his way out. Cato shrinks away from him, his eyes wide with confusion mixed with fear. I stalk over to Cato, pulling him to me for a hug. The urge to comfort the both of us is strong.
As soon as he’s gone, Cato relaxes in my hold.
“Did you tell him about you and Dante?” he asks, tilting his head up to look at me.
“It wasn’t the right time to admit I’m gay.” I let loose a heavy sigh. “Not sure it’ll ever be.”
“Then what was his problem? I’ve never seen your father so pissed before.”
“Apparently, I’m the worst sheriff and son ever to exist.”
“That guy is so damn clueless,” Cato grumbles. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry you had to hear him in peak asshole mode.”
My phone rings from my desk. I let go of Cato to walk over and answer it.
“Sheriff Bell speaking,” I state, unnerved at the fact it’s the school calling.
“Jaxson,” Brandon greets. “You have a minute to come by my office?”
“Zak in trouble again? Callan?”
“No. It’s another student. Got caught with drugs.”
“I’ll be right there.”
As if I don’t have enough shit on my plate, now I’m dealing with drugs. Brigs Ferry Bay has always kept its nose clean. Drugs aren’t a problem. Ever. So, this, just like everything else, another log of frustration thrown into the building fire.
For the past year, I considered hiring another police officer. I’m usually bogged down with paperwork and the occasional car accident, whereas Brie gets stuck with manning all the phone calls that come in. But I’m beginning to feel as though our two-person police unit is stretched thin. Having someone on patrol more frequently, especially overnight, might do wonders in keeping the crime down.