by Max Walker
“So what do you think?” I asked. “Are we going to find out who did this? Who killed Jesse?”
“Do you want the truth or the truth-adjacent?”
“Truth.”
Rocky cracked his neck, and a sequence of pops filled the air. “I don’t know. I was able to check out the crime scene, and although there was a lot of blood, it appeared to have all been Jesse’s. The lab needs to send us back the results, but I don’t have my hopes up. I also collected a few strands of hair that appeared to be someone else’s, but a few shed hairs in his bedroom don’t exactly prove someone’s a killer.”
“Hell, they could even be Hazel’s hair.”
“Exactly. But DNA isn’t our only option. There were some things that stood out to me. Jesse most likely knew the killer because there wasn’t a sign of forced entry. The murder weapon was a kitchen knife, Hazel’s kitchen knife if we’re being precise. So it might have been something sudden. A spur-of-the-moment decision, since they didn’t bring the murder weapon with them.”
My stomach felt like it had been replaced by a bucket of ice. I hadn’t known that.
“Shit,” I said, after realizing I’d been holding my breath. “Hazel’s knife?”
“Yeah, it doesn’t make things look any better. But, there’s a catch: the knife’s missing. If we find it, we could find the key.”
“And if we don’t?”
Rocky tilted his head, lifted his hand from the water and splashed. “Then we keep looking for another key. I’ve been a detective for seven years now. I’ve learned that every locked door can be opened one way or another. I’ve still got to dig into Jesse’s past, figure out if there are any motives at play or not. I have interviews lined up and a couple of stakeouts already planned.”
“Already?” I didn’t bother hiding the surprise. “This all happened last night.” And then, when it hit me like a two-ton boulder: “Holy shit, last night. It feels like this happened ten years ago.”
“I didn’t sleep last night,” Rocky said. “I spent it doing some preliminary digging. By the time the sun came up, I already had a list of people I want to look more into.”
“Whoa.”
So maybe this wasn’t as hopeless as it seemed?
“Which leads me to this.” Rocky turned his entire body to me. “Can I ask you a few questions?”
“What the… oh, you asshole.” It only took me a couple of seconds to realize Rocky was pulling my leg.
Unfortunately, though, he wasn’t pulling it up over his shoulder.
I splashed him. He returned the favor, sending water straight at my face. I closed my eyes and gasped at the exact wrong moment, swallowing some down the wrong pipe. The coughing fit was immediate.
“Oh shit, sorry, sorry.” Rocky drifted over to my side and put his hand on my back. “You okay?”
I nodded, my eyes watery and my entire body aware that Rocky was now touching me. In my chest, my heart bounced like a drunken Tigger. His hand, large and smooth, felt almost like a burning brand leaving a permanent mark between my shoulder blades. The warmth was nearly overwhelming, as much as the actual touch was.
I wanted to push away, to swim to the other end of the pool, to grab onto the stairs and pull myself out altogether. I didn’t need to be here. This may have all just been a stupid, horny mistake. I hadn’t come here to take a dip in Rocky Hudson’s pool; I had come because a deeply buried part of me had been crying out for exactly this. For a breaking of the walls between us. For a touch, for something more.
And here I was, short-circuiting because his hand was on my back.
And now it was on my shoulder. Wait, why was his hand on my shoulder? And why was I turning toward him? And why the hell couldn’t I see straight—was I about to pass out?
Oh God, he’s looking at my lips. He’s about to kiss me, isn’t he? McSteamy the asshole detective is about to kiss me.
And then another thought careened into the forefront.
I’m actually about to have my first kiss holy fuck.
14
Rocky Hudson
There was a magnetic pull as strong as the ones on either pole. It was the only way I could describe the constant tug I felt toward Sam. An invisible rope tying us together, one I’d never felt before. And I’d felt plenty of rope before.
This was different than anything I’d experienced in years.
I knew I had to act on it. I would hate myself if I didn’t. Blame it on the sleep deprivation, or the out-of-control hormones, but all I could think about was getting my lips on Sam’s. When I touched his back was when the dam had broken. Snapped completely in half. He didn’t say much, so I grabbed his shoulder, gently turning him, my arm now wrapping around his neck. He looked up at me with those permanently sultry brown eyes, long lashes batting up and down with every blink.
“Rocky…”
He said my name like he was bent at an altar in prayer. It flooded my veins with flammable passion.
I didn’t even think about the next words to come out of my mouth: “Can I?”
Never. Not once had I ever asked someone if I could kiss them. When I was hooking up with someone, it was because we had connected through an app and were fully aware of what we signed up for.
But, with Sam, like I said, things were different. So different.
He nodded and I could hear the little nervous breath of air he let out. It was a lit match, my bloodstream turning into liquid fire.
I didn’t waste another second. I pushed in, water lapping up my chest as I leaned forward.
Our lips touched and an entire chorus of angels self-combusted somewhere. It was soft at first. Exploratory. Sam felt a little stiff, and not the stiffness I was looking for. His hands stayed under the water by his sides, and his lips were sealed shut.
And yet, still, I felt the tingling sensation down in my balls, a sensation that only comes from a good kiss. I reached for him, grabbing his hips and pulling him against me. I wanted his tongue against mine. I wanted to know the way he tasted.
I teased him with my tongue, probing at his lips. He obeyed my unspoken command and opened for me. I slipped my tongue into his mouth, finding his, tasting him. I felt myself getting lost, like I had just been pulled into a rip current and didn’t stand a chance of making it out alive. His tongue slid against mine, finally filling my mouth, telling me how much he wanted me. Our teeth clacked a couple of times, but I couldn’t give any less of a fuck. All I cared about was Sam’s body pushing harder onto mine, his tongue probing deeper. It felt like he was gaining more and more confidence with every steamy second that passed.
And then I felt it. His cock jerked against me, batting my thigh, telling me just how badly he wanted this.
I moved my hand off his hip, down to his ass, staying above the boxers. I pushed him harder against me, wanting to feel every inch of him. He gave me a moan as our hard dicks pushed together. It drove me wild. I slipped my hand down under the band of his boxers, feeling his soft skin against my hand. I squeezed, earning another moan from him.
We broke for air. Sam’s lips were wet, glistening under the sun. They curled into a smile. One I had to kiss right off.
“Wow, I can’t believe this is happening right now,” Sam said.
“I can.” I kissed him again, holding him against me, my hand still under his boxers. This time, it was Sam who parted my lips with his tongue. I explored him while he did the same with me. The heat inside me grew to uncontrollable levels. There was an overriding need that blurred my vision and obscured my thoughts.
It was a need to get him upstairs. Onto my bed. Underneath me.
I started to grind on his cock with mine, wishing there wasn’t a barrier of wet fabric between us. Water started to rise in waves around us as our movements grew, our passion spreading.
This was new for me. I rarely kissed, and I never kissed for this long. It had always felt too intimate for my liking. I enjoyed distance. It protected me, kept me sane. But everything was so different w
ith Sam. All caution was thrown to the wind. Distance was no longer my friend but my mortal enemy. I wanted nothing more than to keep kissing Sam, learning the ins and outs of his body, exploring him in every fucking way I could.
I reached my other hand between us and grabbed him through his boxers. Sam broke from the kiss, his eyes going wide, another moan escaping his lips as I squeezed. He felt big and thick in my hand, my fingers just closing around his width. I licked my lips, smirking as I stroked slowly, relishing the heat.
And then something surprising happened.
Sam pulled away. He pushed back, swimming a couple of feet away from me. His eyebrows dipped down, like an apologetic puppy dog.
“I… you’re…”
“Did I do something wrong?”
His eyes popped. “What? No, absolutely not. You did nothing wrong. It’s just me, I’m just—”
“Just not into me? That’s fine. I get it.”
Sam shook his head and said, “I’m so into you it’s almost illegal. That’s not it. It’s just, well, I’m a virgin, okay?” The admission manifested two bright rosy pink circles on both his cheeks. The red flushed, spreading from his cheeks until his entire face had changed hue. My cock throbbed, straining against my briefs.
“Oh.” I was surprised. “Listen, I get it. We’ve all been there.”
And then I did something else I rarely ever do.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to pressure you or anything. I just got carried away with the moment.”
“No, don’t apologize. Are you kidding me? I should probably be thanking you right now, if anything. I just… going any further right now…”
“Brakes have been engaged.”
Sam looked at me then, a glitter in his eyes. “Well, I mean, maybe we don’t have to press the brakes down all the way.” Sam drifted back to me. “Can we keep kissing?”
If Sam had finished his question by asking “for the rest of time,” my answer would have been the same.
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
“Okay, good, because I think I could use the practice.”
I cocked my head. “Wait, was I your first kiss, too?”
The blush returned to his face, giving me the answer to my question.
“How’d I do?” he asked bashfully. Overhead, a flock of quaker parrots flew over us, chirping excitedly, their green bodies flashing by like tiny comets.
“On a scale from one to ten?”
“One to five. Let’s not give me too much room to fail and hate myself.”
I laughed at that, as if Sam could ever fail at anything. “I’d give it a full five. Hundred. Off the charts.”
“Really?” Sam asked, his thick brows rising. “I thought for sure I was giving you puffer-fish realness with that kiss.”
More laughter, coming as freely as the water spilling over the rocks next to me. “It just left me wanting more.”
“Okay, good.” This time, he moved as if to initiate the kiss but stopped inches away from me. “I can’t believe I hated you when I first met you.”
“Hate is a strong word,” I said, my eyes dropping to his lips.
“You’re right, you’re right. I mean I strongly disliked you. Mostly for accusing me, but also because I wanted to do this to you.” He went up on his tiptoes, rising slightly out of the water, and he kissed me, this one even better than the last. “And I thought I’d never get the chance to,” Sam said, completing his thought as the kiss broke.
“Well, I’m glad you’ve come around.” I offered a cocky smirk. Sam took the bait, kissing me again, as if he wanted to kiss the cockiness right off me.
We kissed for what felt like hours, floating around in the pool, our bodies pressing and our erections twitching for attention. I respected Sam’s wishes and didn’t make any moves below the belt, simply enjoying the way our tongues danced together like synchronized swimmers, and the way our lips fits together perfectly.
When the kissing spree finally ended, my body instantly cried out for me. As we got out of the pool and toweled off, I considered asking if he would want to stay for drinks.
But I couldn’t. If I had gotten a glass of wine in me, I would have as equally wanted him on me.
And Sam wasn’t like any of the other guys I’d been with. The ones who would take me up on that offer in a heartbeat and then ask for more when the time came.
See, with those guys, it was easy. I’d bring them up to my room, bind their wrists and ankles to the table, and I’d have my entire fucking way with them. That was how I was used to it, how I expected it.
Not with Sam. As badly as I wanted to make him writhe and moan under my control, I knew I’d need to take small steps with him.
“Thanks for letting me take a dip in your pool,” Sam said, drying his hair with the white towel. I wiped off the water from my chest, the relaxing scent of eucalyptus drifting up from the towel. “And for… well, yeah. Thanks. For everything.”
Sam’s cheeks blushed as red as they did when I’d kissed him for the first time.
First time. His first kiss. I was his first kiss.
“I’m glad you came,” I said. “You’re welcome in my pool whenever you want.”
“Be careful, you might just find me out here every day from now on.”
I gave him a slanted smile and said, “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
“Uh-huh.” Sam glanced at his watch. He was fully dressed again, hiding that lithe body of his. I had tried memorizing the way his chest dipped, and the way his nipples perked, and how the tuft of dark hair that grew down from his belly button met a patch of more hair before it disappeared under his very loose boxers.
I tried memorizing the shape of him, which had been traced like an outline against the gray boxers when he had climbed out of the pool, his underwear clinging to him like a wet suit.
“Here,” I said, walking over with him to the glass table underneath the covered patio. I grabbed my phone. “Let’s trade numbers.”
“Right, yeah. Good idea.” Sam fumbled with getting his phone. “I can text you if I think of anything dealing with Jesse.”
“Definitely.” I looked at him, my head still tilted down to my phone. “Or text me for whatever, if you want.”
We exchanged numbers. I led him back through my home, deciding that I didn’t need to put my clothes back on right away, walking in just my black Armani briefs. I don’t think Sam minded. Especially since I had caught him checking me out in a couple of different reflections we passed as he walked slightly behind me.
“So, you’ve got any other plans for tonight?” Sam asked, in a way that suggested he might want to spend more time with me. If I didn’t have an important interview scheduled an hour from now, I very well may have asked him to stay.
“I’ve got someone I want to sit down and talk with. A friend of Jesse’s who answered a Facebook message I sent him. She said she might have some information for me.”
Sam’s eyebrows jumped up. “Oh shoot. Okay. Damn, already?”
“I don’t like wasting time.”
His eyebrows dropped back down. He must have picked up on my tone, because his lips curled up into a smile.
“All right, well… thanks. Again. For everything.” We stopped at my front door. The sun was setting outside, sending a ray of sunlight dashing in through the floor-to-ceiling window, lighting up the captivating brown eyes that held an entire world of stories I wanted to read.
I couldn’t help it. I had to kiss him. This time I didn’t ask. And he didn’t seem to mind, his body already melting into mine as if we’d been doing this for years, knowing exactly how we fit together like a lock and key.
The kiss broke as my cock grew stiff, ready to slip free from the leg of my briefs. He must have felt it. His gaze looked hungry, but there was also apprehension there. I certainly wasn’t going to push anything. Not with Sam.
“Bye, Rocky.” He licked his lips, as if savoring my taste.
He left me st
anding there, in only my black briefs, a growing bulge between my legs throbbing to be taken care of.
“Thanks for meeting with me,” I said.
I was currently sitting in a crusty twenty-four seven diner, the mustard-yellow table stained with various substances that told me no one cleaned up the front of the diner, so I could only imagine the nightmares that were being brought to life in the kitchen. Across from me was a woman with a short-cut head of light brown hair and a worried look in her eyes. She was one of the ones frequently pictured with Jesse. I’d had a chance to chat with Hazel, and she told me that Kristen and Julie were girlfriends who seemed to be way more level-headed than Jesse ever was.
“Jesse was a good friend of mine. I want to help.”
“And how’d you meet Jesse?”
“We worked together. We were barbacks down at Blizzards. I got promoted to a bartender after a few months, but Jesse never really moved up. One day, a couple months ago, he came in and just quit. We still stayed friends, obviously.”
“How long have you been friends?”
“Like, five years now.”
A waitress came by to take our orders. Kristen ordered herself an entire meal, but I stuck with the water. “Do you know why he left Blizzards?”
She nodded. “His parents came into some money. Promised to support him if he got his act together.”
“Do you know how much money?”
“A lot.” She gave a “whoo” through her crooked teeth. “Life-changing money.”
“Did he tell a lot of people about this money?”
“Pfft, he’d talk about it every chance he could get. He’d blab on about him being a multimillionaire, and how he’d buy everyone new cars and shit. I never saw a dime of it. I don’t think he did either.”
Money. A universal motive for murder.