“Listen. We got off to a bad start. I understand you have questions. I don’t rightly know what you’re talking about right now, but if you put away the gun, I’m sure we can talk. Just…don’t do anything dumb.”
I had been prepared for a lot of yelling, and the shift in his tone caught me off guard. Holy shit, what if he really had no idea what I was talking about? What if this wasn’t the right Hudson? Whatever. No time for doubts.
“Nora Grant? Remember her? Hm?” I said, shaking the gun at him once again. “Do you remember her, you stupid comemierda? You fucking killed her, didn’t you? Tell me you fucking killed her!” I roared at him.
“Mister, I don’t know any Nora Grant, really. I’m sorry.” He almost seemed on the verge of tears.
I was so fucking angry that I’d lost complete track of my surroundings. I didn’t hear the new set of footsteps in the house or anyone come into the kitchen until I heard a too-familiar voice behind me.
“Nico!” Landon Case barked at my back. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Suarez? Put the gun down.”
I was so startled to hear Landon that I almost dropped the gun in shock, but I kept it firmly pointing at Hudson while I tried to look at Landon out of the corner of my eye.
“Go the fuck away, Case. Go away. This is not any of your business. Just go away.”
“Like fuck I’m going away. Put the gun down and back off. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Case said, sounding like an over-exaggerated impression of a drill sergeant.
“I’m doing the right thing for my uncle! And for Nora! And for Nina’s parents, too. I’m getting the answers I need out of this piece of shit!” I shouted.
I was watching Case more intently now. He seemed to keep moving forward, with his arms up, showing that he didn’t have a weapon besides the one he now slipped back into its holster. I darted my eyes between Case and Hudson, Hudson then back to Case. As I looked one last time over at Case, I noticed that his eyes weren’t on me. They seemed to be looking beside me at where Hudson must have been before Case said, calmly, but seriously, more seriously than I’d ever heard anyone say anything.
“Nico. Down,” he ordered.
I guess in retrospect I could have taken it as though Landon was picking here and now to dom me and to make me listen. I could have taken it as though Landon was preparing to arrest me and not Hudson. But I didn’t. In the depth of my gut, I felt the importance of that command and, a microsecond later, I was on my knees on the linoleum with the gun above my head.
Because I looked down as I knelt, I didn’t see the rest of what happened, but I heard and saw a blur of motion. A shot rang out through the house. I looked up hurriedly to see Landon’s gun out and Landon standing square-stanced behind it. One glance to the side told me everything I needed to know. A third gun was laying on the floor from where Hudson had dropped it, a kitchen drawer opened. Hudson himself was white with fear as a bullet hole smoked about four inches away from his head and into a kitchen cabinet.
“Kick me the gun, Hudson. Come on,” Landon demanded, which sent Hudson’s gun sliding across the tile. Landon sort of rocked on his heels before bringing a hand up to activate his shoulder radio. He barked the address and mentioned a warrant that he’d obtained, demanding back-up now.
With the shot ringing in my ears, the rest was a blur.
I vaguely remembered Landon climbing on top of Hudson to make the arrest. I remembered being in handcuffs myself, first on the floor and then in the back of Landon’s cruiser. I remembered Landon babbling from the front seat as we drove back to Worthington, maybe to prison, maybe not, who knew.
“What the fuck were you thinking, Nico? You could have been killed! If I hadn’t been there, you would have been killed. I got you that warrant. We’re going to get justice for your uncle, Nico, but you’re fucking lucky I don’t kill you myself.”
I don’t know what sort of magic Landon pulled, but three phone calls later, he turned around from the road I recognized as leading to downtown, and then, a few minutes later I realized slowly that we were in Landon’s neighborhood. He pulled the cruiser to a stop and walked around to lead me out, my hands still in cuffs as he led me to his porch.
“Look. Landon, fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking. All right? Just get these off, and I’ll go home, okay?” I asked while doing my best to wave the cuffs from behind my back.
He laughed darkly, his hand went to tilt my jaw up and forced me to look at him square in the eye. My pulse was racing. Oh. It was like this, huh? Well, at least I’d get one last goodbye.
“Is that what you think? From now on, I’m not letting you out of my sight. Get the fuck inside.”
From now on? Fuck, that made it seem like Landon was hinting to something that was more than just a one-off.
Once we were inside, he locked the door firmly behind him before he turned his attention back on me. I winced as my arms were released from the cuffs.
“Strip,” Landon said, brooking no argument. I opened my mouth to say something, but Landon’s eyes pierced mine, and I was taking off my clothes before I had time to think.
I stripped off everything until I was naked before him and made a step forward before he pulled back.
“On your knees,” he ordered. I winced again at my knees hitting the carpet.
“Crawl,” he commanded. “My bedroom’s in the back.”
Fuck. It was almost embarrassing how quickly I was getting hard at this. Almost. I made my way back to where he directed, only the steady thunk of his boots against the wood of the hallway letting me know he was still behind me.
When I got to the bedroom, I wasn’t sure what to do, so I went up to my knees to kneel by the bed, remembering only just to keep my eyes down as Landon made his way inside.
Again, I expected him to come directly to me or at least take his clothes off, but he did neither. Instead, he busied himself around the room. I tried to focus my energy into slipping into the right space, the space where I’d let Landon do everything, anything.
Eventually, the thunking grew closer and his hand went into my hair to tilt my head back. His cock was out, but other than that and his hat, he was still completely in uniform, the dark wool trousers hugging his thighs, nipping in at his waist. My mouth watered, but I knew better by now than to do anything until Landon said.
Finally, after what seemed like a century, he spoke again.
“Open.”
The thick head of his cock rubbed against my lips, coating them in his precum, and as soon as I opened my mouth, he thrust inside, not even trying to hold back. I relaxed, letting him fuck my face as he sighed and grunted.
I felt blissful, barely even aware of my own raging, hard cock. Eventually though, he pulled back, and it was only then that I felt the cool, wet drool around my chin.
“Fuck, you look wrecked, Nico.” From anyone else, there should have been a sound of concern, but I heard the arousal in Landon’s tone.
I looked up through my eyelashes as he studied me.
“Fuck, get up.”
I got up just as Landon sat down, back against the headboard of his bed. His cock was shiny with my saliva, and an angry red-purple now.
“There’s lube in the drawer. Bring it to me.”
I found it, and when I came back to bring it to him, he hauled me up in bed to straddle him, my cock now just mere centimeters away from his. I wanted to close that distance, to rub myself raw and come all over him, but that wasn’t the game. That wasn’t what he’d said.
His wet finger shocked me at my entrance as he pressed inside me in one go. I cried out, and Landon paused just long enough to see whether it was pain or pleasure that had made me moan. Seeing what I’m sure was my blissful, fucked-out expression, he huffed and hooked his finger to assault my prostate. Lighting shot through me, jerked my body around, and I threw my head back as I clawed at the thick muscles of his shoulders.
“Jesus, papi, fuck… oh, god Landon fucking wreck me, yes…”
My world dissolved into bliss as Landon chuckled darkly and teased my gland with his finger. “Fuck, look at you, baby,” he murmured. “Opening up so easy for me. Like you were made for it. Made to fucking take me. You like that? Like being my fucking finger puppet, hm? Who owns this fucking hole, baby?”
I didn’t have to think. “You do, sir. I fucking—”
He cut me off with another crook of his finger and I bucked against his finger while he made me dance for him. That one little fucking button gave him so much control and I was drunk on it; never wanted it to end.
But when he was satisfied that I was ready—and, I was; I craved to have more inside me—he pulled his hand away and sat back to lean again against the headboard. The sudden shock of emptiness ached, and left me momentarily stunned as I feigned hurt and pawed at his hand for more.
Landon only grinned and nodded toward his cock. “What are you waiting for, sweetheart? Get on. You’re doing the work today.”
I didn’t need telling twice. I squeezed lube onto the tip of his cock and watched, fascinated and hungry as the clear stuff trickled down the thick length of him. Before it ran off his heavy nuts and onto the bed, I scooped his cock up in one hand and stroked to slick all of it up. Landon gave me an approving growl, and ran a hand over my hair and down my spine to my ass, and gave it a short, stinging smack.
“I love your hands, baby,” he said, “but I’m gonna need you to sit on this. Now.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. Landon never did, his every word just felt like a command I couldn’t ignore. I straddled him, lined up his cock and sank down against the thick head. My hole was ready, hungry, and I barely had to try to relax to get him in.
My head fell back as I took him down to the root, tightening around the thickest part at his base. For several seconds I couldn’t breathe; I floated on a wave of relief as he finally made me whole. That’s how it felt, now—like when he wasn’t inside me I was empty, lacking some vital part. When he filled me, I had it back. I was complete. I let my breath out in a shaky moan.
“Good boy,” Landon crooned, one face cupping my cheek. I pressed my face into it, kissed his palm, and let him slip a finger passed my lips. While I nursed it, he chuckled. “You love having that cock inside, don’t you?”
I nodded, whining an affirmative as I wriggled my hips just to feel him moving in me.
He growled low and thrust up, but just a little; just enough to let me know he was there and that he liked it. “Being inside you feels like coming home, baby.”
My chest swelled and I smiled as I took his finger from my mouth. “Really?”
He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “Really,” he breathed. “I love you, Nico. Now, fucking ride that cock and earn your come, sweet boy.”
I planted my hands on the headboard and fucked myself up and down over his cock until my thighs were screaming, focusing on nothing other than his thick cock pressing inside me against my prostate. On being full, and how badly I wanted to feel him explode inside me and fill me up.
“Fuck, that’s it,” Landon sighed. “Ride me, baby. Fuck, so fucking good for me, Nico. Come on, look at me.”
My eyes found his again. There wasn’t anger there, just lust and need and possession, and something else I wasn’t sure I had the words for. Fascination?
“Come with me, Nico,” he said, his voice strained. His cock swelled inside me, grew harder, flaring as he got close. “Fucking come with me, boy. Nico… Christ you know how to make that cock feel good… I’m fucking close. Come, Nico. Fucking come god damnit!”
As if my body could not more deny him than stop breathing, I did. The first scalding shot of his seed filled me as he smacked my ass and thrust up, and like he’d hit a button my prostate shuddered, swelled, and gave up to him. While Landon emptied himself inside me, my cock jumped, dribbled, and began to leak in short spurts as wave after wave of unstoppable, sweet agony filled my limbs with honey and fire. I clenched around him, and whatever sound I made was lost in the rush of the kind of orgasm that earned the name little death in the first place.
It seemed to go on forever. Fuck, it always did with Landon when he fucked the last of his cum out of him and into me, hammering my prostate while it spasmed so that every goddamn thrust seemed like it sent me over again, until we slowed, and collapsed against one another, and our bodies moved on automatic; waves on the ocean, up and down… in and out… every thrust just a lap of water against the shore. Inevitable, unstoppable, utterly peaceful. Landon’s hands traveled up and down my back as we rocked like that for long minutes.
Finally, he patted the bed next to him and I slid off his still-hard cock and laid down at his side. He kissed me and rolled me over to spoon around me. I gasped as he pressed against my hole again, filled me back up and slotted against me so that we could lay like this. His cock flexed twice, and I squeezed back.
This was the purest, simplest kind of joy.
“What happens next?” I asked as I tangled my fingers in his and pulled his arm around my stomach.
He chuckled softly. “Well, I figure we can clear out probably a few drawers for you in here, maybe some closet space. Not like you’ll need very many clothes, anyway? Right? Clearly, you can’t be trusted to be left on your own, so it looks like I’ll have to look after you. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect,” I mumbled.
“Yeah,” he breathed. “It does.”
And that’s how we fell asleep. Locked together, slick with sweat—and fucking madly in love.
Epilogue
“Alright, madam DA, do you have a proposed trial date?”
“The week of the fourteenth?”
“Very well,” Judge Thompson said, nodding his head. “Mr. Hudson, your trial is scheduled for the week of August 14th. Should you have any questions regarding that date or in anticipation of your trial, I suggest you contact your court-appointed counsel. Anything else from either defense counsel or the district attorney’s office?”
“No, Your Honor,” said two voices.
It felt like it shouldn’t be this simple. All that work. All of this came down to a date on a judge’s trial calendar. Another, in only three weeks’ time would set another date, the date of Oliver Suarez’s post-conviction hearing. He’d have to stay in jail until Gadwell could be heard on her motion, but it was progress. All of this was. It wouldn’t be swift—justice rarely was—but it at least wasn’t standing still.
My dress uniform was stiff, and I was looking forward to finally being able to change out of it after court was dismissed. Zane Starr and I had both been subpoenaed to testify at Hudson’s arraignment, and for the first time in days, I felt like I could exhale. Finally, there was a path for Oliver.
I looked out into the crowded courtroom from my spot near the jury box next to the other officers. Far in the back on the left side, I saw what I’m looking for. Nico wasn’t saying anything, wasn’t moving at all, just sitting there watching me. He was trying, trying and failing, to keep his face neutral, but partially because of his lack of a poker face and partially because of just how well I knew that face, I could read all the emotions passing through. Hope, anger, anticipation, and, as his eyes connected with mine, well, lots of other things, too. I nodded at him briefly and waited impatiently for court to finally be in recess so I could slip away with him to see his uncle.
Outside the courtroom, his demeanor changed. I watched him as we crossed over the plaza from the courthouse to the jail. I nodded to the guards there as we entered, and soon they’d gotten us back to the phone booths. Oliver Suarez was already waiting for us.
I stood back, letting Nico take the lead and fill his uncle in on all the ins and outs of the case and what was happening with Hudson.
“You’re working with your attorney, que no?” he asked Oliver.
“Si, mijo. Calma. The hard work is done for us, you’ve just gotta sit back and let the lawyers do the
ir jobs.” He wasn’t wrong. I hung back for a while longer to give them time to themselves, but I knew there was no way to avoid the inevitable. It wasn’t in my character much, anyway. I came back to Nico’s side, and waited for a break in their rapid-fire Spanish.
Eventually, both heads turned to study me, and I gestured for Nico to hand me the phone.
“Mr. Suarez,” I started.
“Please, Oliver is fine. Besides it’s not exactly like we haven’t met before.” Okay, I could definitely see where Nico got his mouth from.
“Oliver,” I started again. “Look, I’m sor—”
“Landon,” he said, “I get it, okay? I’m not saying there wasn’t a lot of bullshit I had to go through in this, but honestly, I’ve spent the last three years being mad. You were doing your job, you made a mistake, and I’m grateful to both of you for trying to make this right. We don’t always get things right in this life, but I know you risked a lot, did a lot, to fix this. So, thank you.” He looked between me and Nico as he spoke. “Thank you both.”
I nodded. Oliver didn’t strike me as a person who wanted to talk something to death. I went to hand the phone back, but before I could, Oliver spoke again.
“And, Landon?”
“Yes?” I asked.
“You understand what could happen if you hurt him, right?”
It wasn’t quite a threat. The vagueness was probably more because of the recorded phone calls and less because of any unwillingness on Oliver’s part to make himself crystal clear. I nodded again, understanding exactly what he was saying without saying. I spared a glance at Nico who was rolling his eyes and hiding his face as he realized exactly what sort of conversation we were having.
“Yeah, I think I do.”
“Good,” Oliver said with a menacing smile, all teeth. “Then we’re good. For now.”
* * *
We were on our way home, and Nico hadn’t said a word since leaving Oliver back at the jail. I reached over and laid my hand on his thigh to get his attention.
Worth A Shot: Worth It: Book 5 Page 13