Couldn't Cheat Death

by A. P. Eisen

  Paul sniffed the air with appreciation. “Damn, that smells amazing. As for the conversation…I have to admit—even I was surprised, and that takes a lot.”

  “Why? She doesn’t seem the type?” Cliff stirred the shrimp and poured in some white wine. The sizzle sent up aromatic smoke, and Paul’s stomach growled again. “Easy, boy. It’s only going to be a few more minutes. Let me get the pasta out.” He filled a pot with water and set it on the stovetop to boil. “I buy this from the Italian market downtown. Takes only two minutes to cook and is miles above the rest.”

  Having no idea, Paul simply nodded and continued with his story. “She’s very cool and collected. Elegant. But I could see her getting fiery if needed.” Paul recalled the heated sparks in her eyes.

  Cliff stirred the shrimp and turned the heat to low. He opened a bag of pasta he’d taken from the refrigerator and stood over the pot, waiting for the water to boil. “Do you think she was angry enough to kill Jerry because he was sleeping with her husband? That has to be a shock, finding out your spouse is having an affair.”

  “Especially with someone of the same sex.”

  “Yeah.”

  He drank the rest of his beer while Cliff dumped the pasta in the pot and stirred, steam rising from the boiling water.

  “Rob brought up the idea that maybe she hired someone to kill Jerry, which we both agreed was more feasible.”

  Nodding, Cliff met his eyes over the fog from the pasta pot. “That definitely sounds like something to look into. The things you must find out about people during these investigations…”

  “You have no idea.” He crunched one last chip. “Can I help? I can at least set the table.”

  “Sure.” With the big wooden spoon in his hand, he pointed to the cabinet by the sink. “The plates are in there, and the forks and spoons are in the drawer next to the sink.”

  Paul found both and set two white plates on the counter top along with forks and spoons. Cliff drained the pasta and divided it between their plates, then spooned over it the shrimp in white-wine sauce.

  “Hold on one sec.”

  Hungry, Paul watched as Cliff took out a hunk of cheese from the refrigerator.

  “Fresh Parmigiano-Reggiano. Grated on top, it’s fantastic.” Cliff shaved some over Paul’s food, followed by his own.

  “Can I eat now?”

  “Tell me how it is.”

  Paul twirled the pasta around his fork and slid it into his mouth, where the flavors exploded. “Oh, my God.” He almost moaned. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

  With a bright smile, Cliff picked up his fork and started eating. It took no more than fifteen minutes for them to demolish all the food. Content and full, Paul hummed his pleasure as he leaned back.

  “Damn. That was amazing. Thank you.”

  “Not a problem. I love cooking for people who appreciate eating.”

  “You never have to worry about me, then. I love to eat.”

  “Good to know,” Cliff said softly, and Paul’s satisfaction from the delicious meal kindled into a different type of pleasure.

  “I’ll do the dishes.” He picked up their plates and walked across the kitchen to the sink. From behind, Cliff put a hand on his arm.

  “I have a dishwasher,” he whispered in his ear. “Imagine that.”

  His hands trembled a bit as he set the plates down. “Oh. That’s good.” Damn, he sounded stupid. What next? He couldn’t grab the guy and start kissing him, even though he’d wanted to from the moment Cliff picked him up in the car.

  Cliff pressed his lips to Paul’s cheek. “Let’s sit in the living room. We can watch a movie if you want.”

  He allowed himself to be led to the comfortable, inviting sofa and sat next to Cliff. “I’m not good at this, you know. I don’t date. I never have.”

  “So you’ve said, but we’re not doing anything but having a conversation. Talking is good.” Cliff kicked off his shoes and tucked his feet underneath his butt. “How many more people do you think you need to interview in Jerry’s case?”

  He appreciated Cliff turning the subject back to his work, where he felt most comfortable, and yet Paul wished he could let go and relax.

  “I’m not sure. I think we’re winding down on witnesses and suspects. Rob and I both feel like we’re missing something that’s right in front of us.”

  “I wanted to ask you what but then realized how stupid that would sound.” Cliff played with a pillow fringe. “If you knew, it wouldn’t be missing.”

  “I’ve gone over the facts in my head, and some things don’t make sense.” He huffed out a frustrated laugh. “Tomorrow we’re going to go over Jerry’s calendar and computer again. We’re still waiting for the sand analysis to see if the samples match. I’m guessing yes.”

  “Feel free to do a little work here if you want. I won’t mind.”

  Tempting as Cliff’s offer was, Paul knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. “I don’t think that’s how either of us wants to spend tonight.”

  “Oh?” Cliff shifted closer. “Tell me how you’d like to spend tonight?”

  “I’d rather show you.”

  Paul slid his arm around Cliff’s shoulder and pulled him close while his mouth moved leisurely across the softness of Cliff’s lips. At Cliff’s sigh of pleasure, Paul deepened their kiss.

  “I don’t mind this, but I do have a perfectly good bed if you’re interested,” Cliff murmured in his ear, then licked around the shell, unleashing the lust Paul had been holding together all evening.

  Panting out loud, Paul stood. Cliff took his hand, and they crossed the living room to the back of the house, where Cliff’s bedroom was located. Cliff unbuttoned his pants, and they dropped to the floor, followed by his briefs. He pulled off his socks, undid his tie, and Paul broke out of his hypnotized gaze to brush the man’s fingers aside.

  “Let me.” He flicked each button until the shirt lay open across Cliff’s chest. He pushed it off his shoulders, and after it fell to the floor, Paul pulled off Cliff’s white T-shirt. And then Cliff was standing naked and unashamed in front of him. “Damn. You’re gorgeous.”

  His cock rose between them, heavy and erect, and Paul wrapped his fingers around it, feeling it jump as he moved his hand up and down. Cliff’s breathing increased, and when Paul leaned in for a kiss, still working his hand, Cliff wrapped his arms around Paul’s shoulders. They stood together, him fully clothed and Cliff naked.

  “Do you want this?” Cliff asked, shuddering a bit as Paul continued to stroke him, the precome dripping from the tiny slit on his cockhead. “Are you sure?”

  So sure, in fact, that Paul wanted to get on his knees, something he rarely ever did. When he sank to the floor to take Cliff down his throat, inhaling his scent, he glanced up to see Cliff’s eyes closed, his mouth open and gasping for air. Cliff’s hips bucked and rolled, and he dug his hands in Paul’s hair, crying out.

  “God, please, Paul.”

  Paul flattened his tongue around the heated, wet shaft and slowly dragged his lips up and down, making sure to tease around the slick head. He repeated the movement once, twice, three times, until Cliff choked out a cry and came, the rush of hot liquid spurting against the back of Paul’s throat.

  “Oh, fuck.”

  Paul held on to Cliff’s ass and drank him down until his cock softened and Cliff begged him to stop.

  “Too much. No more.”

  He sat back on his heels. “How do you feel?”

  Red-faced and breathing heavily, Cliff sat down on the bed as if his legs could no longer support him. “I feel as good as you do, I hope.”

  His balls ached, and his dick strained hard in the confines of his jeans. Paul chuckled. “Then you must feel damn fine.” He adjusted himself, and Cliff eyed him with a hungry intensity. His body throbbed.

  Cliff held out his hand. “Come to bed?”

  Paul nodded and stripped, his cock so hard, it slapped against his belly when he was fully naked. “I’m re
ady.”

  He’d never been more ready for anything in his life.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  If he’d said out loud that he’d been waiting his whole life for this, Cliff knew it would rank off the charts on the cheesy factor, but there was no other way to describe having Paul Monroe naked in his bed. They kissed, and he sucked Paul’s tongue, trading breaths until his head spun.

  “My turn.” He pushed Paul flat on his back and drank in the sight of him. Unsure if this would be the first and only time he’d have Paul, Cliff intended to make this last. He took his time kissing every inch of Paul’s skin, from his sharply angled cheekbones to the poke of his collarbone, gently biting the flat, brown nipples, then moving slowly downward until he arrived at his cock. He mouthed the slick, wet head, and Paul moaned and writhed. Cliff couldn’t tear his gaze away from seeing this tightly wrapped man lose control underneath him. A deep-red flush suffused Paul’s body, and he trembled as he twisted the bedsheets. Cliff ran his hands over Paul’s abdomen, feeling the jump of taut muscle. He wanted to feast on his body, but he needed Paul inside him.

  “Are you ready?”

  Paul tangled their fingers together. “Are you kidding?” he rasped out.

  He snickered as he pulled out lube and condoms from his night-table drawer and set them on the bed. Paul sat up, his face a combination of longing and desire.

  “What’s wrong?” Fearful Paul had changed his mind, Cliff shifted closer.

  “Nothing, for once. Everything is right, and I’m not sure…”

  Knowing Paul wasn’t a man who comfortably showed his emotions, Cliff wanted this night to be more than a memory for Paul.

  “Well, I am.” He kissed Paul until the tenseness in his body melted away and he kissed Cliff back with all the fervor he’d dreamed about.

  Paul rolled a condom on, and Cliff lay on the bed. Cool, slick fingers teased around his rim, making him tremble. “That feels so good,” he whispered, hoping to encourage Paul.

  “It does, huh?” Growing bolder, Paul sank his index finger deep, and when Cliff groaned, he added another and began to thrust them in and out.

  “More.” He didn’t think anything except Paul deep inside him would be enough. “Everything. You.”

  Paul withdrew his fingers, pressed the head of his cock against Cliff’s hole, and pushed inside. Cliff gasped, and Paul hesitated.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” He held on to Paul’s bicep and tugged. “Don’t stop.” He folded one knee up to his shoulder and shifted down onto the mattress, allowing Paul to slide in farther. “Like that.”

  “Giving orders?” Paul pumped his hips several times, driving harder with each thrust. “That’s my job.”

  At the last flex he settled in deep, opening Cliff up to places never reached before with any lover. He felt Paul in his chest, his heart, his head.…It was terrifying and wonderful at the same time. The comeback he had at the ready died on his lips, leaving him breathless.

  They moved together, the creaking of the bedsprings mingling with their muted groans and slapping flesh. Paul consumed him, every touch of his hands and press of his lips on Cliff’s skin like licks of fire in his blood. Sweat dripped from Paul’s forehead to his own, and he dug his fingers into the heavy muscles of Paul’s shoulders.

  “Oh, God.” Paul’s hips pistoned harder, snapping against him at an increasingly punishing pace. His mouth found Cliff’s, and they fused together, teeth clashing, tongues licking, biting, devouring. Chest to chest, they heaved against each other. Cliff drew Paul in tight, clenching around the steely thickness of his shaft until Paul stiffened and came. Hot, stuttering breath hit his neck as Paul groaned and collapsed on top of him.

  “Am I alive?” Paul murmured into his neck, and Cliff smiled. “ ’Cause that was fucking out of this world.”

  “I’m happy to say we are.” Free to touch, his hands roamed over the expanse of Paul’s muscular torso, and he heard Paul’s small noises of satisfaction. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear the man was purring like a sated lion.

  “That feels good,” Paul whispered, his cock softening. “Don’t stop.” To Cliff’s decided unhappiness, he pulled out. Cliff watched as he tied off the condom and tossed it into the basket next to the bed.

  “I didn’t want to, but you moved.”

  Paul slid in next to him and shocked him by cuddling close. “Well, I’m back now.”

  Instead of snuggling in Paul’s arms, Cliff cocked his head in bemusement. “Are you real, or am I dreaming this?”

  “I was thinking the same thing myself. This…” He waved his hand. “This hasn’t ever been me.”

  While it felt good to have earned Paul’s trust, it saddened him to think Paul lived such an empty life. But this wasn’t the best time to get into a heavy discussion. They were both still finding their way.

  “I know. Which is why I’m good with taking it slow.”

  Paul’s white smile gleamed in the dimness of the bedroom. “That didn’t seem too slow to me.” He ran his hand lightly over Cliff’s back and kissed his neck. “It was pretty amazing.”

  “Yeah, it was.”

  “But you’re right in that we shouldn’t rush this…us, if only because I’m not able to give this the full attention it deserves, at least not until Jerry’s murderer is caught. But this right here?” Another tentative touch. “This I could do again.”

  “I understand. And I’m glad you didn’t start asking questions midstride.”

  Paul sat up, arms over his bent knees. “My partner once asked me if I always thought about work, even during sex, and before tonight I might’ve answered yes.”

  “Oh?” Cliff’s heart pounded.

  “Yeah.” Giving him an enigmatic smile, Paul scrambled out of bed. “Did you mention ice cream, or was that something I dreamed up?”

  Who was this man, so serious one moment and joking the next? Cliff wasn’t sure even Paul knew the answer.

  “You weren’t dreaming. I have coffee, vanilla, and chocolate.” He hopped out of bed, and they slipped on their briefs, then walked to the kitchen. “Pick your poison.”

  “What kind of a cop would I be if I didn’t choose coffee?”

  Cliff dished out the ice cream, and they sat on the sofa and watched the local news. A protest took place at one of the park’s playgrounds that afternoon, and the reporter was interviewing people.

  “They want to close the playgrounds at six p.m., and that’s not fair. Where are we supposed to take our children?”

  Cliff finished his vanilla and decided to steal some of Paul’s coffee. He swooped his spoon in, but Paul caught his wrist.

  “Not without a trade. What do I get for giving you my coffee?”

  “Anything you want.”

  Paul’s eyes darkened, and he set the bowl down on the table, but then became distracted by the television. “Look. Isn’t that Amy Parsons?”

  Cliff leaned forward to get a closer look. “Yeah. It is. And that’s Mason with her.”

  They listened to her speak.

  “We need the park to stay open at least until eight p.m. I’ve been taking my son here every night when I don’t work. And when I can’t because I have to go to work, his aide does. He needs this park to play in. He loves the slide and the swings, right, Mason?”

  The young boy stood by her side and nodded. The reporter asked, “What’s your favorite thing about the park?”

  “The sandbox. My mommy plays with me in it.”

  “That’s weird,” he said to Paul after the segment ended. “Didn’t Amy say Jerry watched Mason? Now she says she has an aide.”

  Cliff heard Paul’s sharp intake of breath. “Yeah. Yeah. I gotta make a call.” Abandoning his ice cream, Paul ran over to the kitchen island, where they’d left their phones earlier, and Cliff watched as Paul made a phone call.

  “Hello? Who is this? Wallace?” He listened for a minute. “Okay. Do me a favor? Email me Gregoria’s calendar, please. I need to c
heck something.…Yeah. Thanks.”

  He ended the call and paced the floor.

  Cliff put a hand on his arm, stopping him. “What’s going on?”

  Paul stared at him as if he’d forgotten Cliff was there. A huge smile broke over his face and he grabbed Cliff and planted a hard kiss on his lips. “You’re fucking brilliant. That’s what’s been bothering me, and as soon as you said it…well, I don’t want to say anything until I’ve had a chance to look through the notes and Jerry’s calendar.”

  A bit bewildered by what was happening, Cliff held back a smile, knowing he was seeing the real Paul in action. This was a man for whom, no matter what, work would be at the forefront of his mind. Cliff had to think hard if he wanted to be in a relationship where he might forever be if not second place, then tied for first.

  “Do you want to use my laptop? It will probably be a lot easier than looking everything up on your phone. And you can print anything you need.”

  “Thanks. That would be perfect. Appreciate it.”

  Cliff left Paul and went into the second bedroom, which he used as an office. He got his laptop and brought it back to Paul, who’d sat at the island.

  “Okay. Wallace just sent me the info. I’m going to log in to my email and pull it up. I’ll need to print it out so I don’t have to sit and stare at the screen.”

  “Good. And while you do that, I’ll put on a pot of coffee. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”

  Paul’s fingers faltered on the keyboard, and an expression of genuine regret clouded his face. “I’m really sorry. Do you want me to go home? I can call a car service.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. You’re staying here, and if you need my help, you got it.”

  Strong hands cupped his face, and again Paul kissed him hard until they both were shaking and breathless. “You’re perfect. Thank you.” Without missing a beat, Paul resumed typing and brought up his Gmail while Cliff stood where Paul had kissed him, fingers touching his lips for a moment, before shaking his head and going to the coffeemaker to fill up the carafe.