His sense of relief was so strong and immediate it made him light-headed. Free didn’t hate him. Hart got ready to climb in the bed, but Free stopped him, “Hey. Stop right there.”

  Hart halted with one hand and knee on the mattress.

  Free’s voice was soft, “Lose the robe.”

  Hart warmed inside. He let the material fall from his shoulders to the floor. Free’s dark eyes ate him up as he crawled up the bed toward him. Hart took the cool compress and gently laid it against Free’s reddened cheek as he settled beside him. He could feel the worry-frown in the center of his forehead but he couldn’t remove it. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over Free’s collarbone while he tended to his jaw.

  “I’m so sorry you were hit, Len.”

  “I know. I’m sorry you were hit, too.”

  Hart held Free safely in his arms until they fell asleep.

  Free

  Free woke at dawn, like always. No matter how late he went to bed, he always stirred at daybreak. It took him a second to realize where he was and the current position he was in. The television was off. They’d never looked at it last night. They’d only managed a small conversation before they’d both drifted off to sleep. Free remembered resting his head on Hart’s shoulder, but how he got down so far until his face was in Hart’s underarm, he had no clue. Had he naturally gravitated there in his sleep? Free inhaled. Ahhh.

  Most of Hart’s face was buried beneath the thick covers. His arm was bent and tucked under his pillow, making the perfect indentation for Free’s face. And, oh did he smell good—like soap and alpha male. Free didn’t dare move, he loved this position. Hart’s other arm was thrown over Free’s waist, holding him close. Somehow, he’d wedged his thigh between Hart’s and now it felt like it was trapped between two tree trunks. Free grinned and inhaled again as inconspicuously as he could. Ahhh, so good.

  “Are you really smelling my armpit?” Hart rumbled, his voice as raw and dirty as porn, “Most people opt for the smell of bacon or Folgers first thing in the morning.”

  Free chuckled and buried his head deeper, out of mild embarrassment, but mostly greed. So he’s a damn comedian in the morning? Well, he knew how to cut the games. Free rotated his hips, making sure to brush his sunrise wood over Hart’s thigh muscle. He remembered Hart having some hesitation about offending Free with his erections, but he wanted to nip that in bud right now.

  Hart fell silent, Free could only hear his shallow breaths. Damn, he wished he had removed his sweats before he got into the bed last night, but he’d wanted to be able to give Hart what he needed…and last night…he needed a friend, not an orgasm.

  This morning, however, was another story. Hart moved toward him and Free bit his lip at the first feel of Hart’s fat bulge nudging his abs. His mouth watered. Hart’s strong arms came around his waist then he was being hefted on top of him. Holy shit. He felt high up. He smiled down at Hart, just able to make out the satisfied expression on his face in the scarce light of dawn. Hart’s eyes fell closed, his back arched slightly and his fist clenched around the material of Free’s pants.

  “You asked me what I wanted last night,” Hart whispered as low as his voice allowed. His beard deliciously scratched against Free’s cheek, making his cock leak already.

  “Yes. You want to tell me now?” Free kissed Hart’s throat, then nuzzled under the bushy length, nibbling on his chin.

  Hart’s hips rose off the bed. “Fuuuuck. Don’t do that,” Hart groaned, squeezing the life out of him. Free relished it.

  “I’m gonna do it all the fucking time because I know what it does to you.” Free ground his pelvis down. “It does the same to me.”

  “Damnit, Len,” Hart hissed when Free pulled his beard and dove for his mouth.

  They kissed passionately. Free kissed him until he felt no further indecision, until Hart understood that everything about him turned him on and he wanted him desperately. After ten extra seconds of needing to take a much-needed breath, Free pulled away from Hart’s lips, only to be yanked back to him. He vibrated to see Hart’s dominant side flare up. And he was about to bring out more of it. Because that particular part of Hart was expressly for him.

  “Tell me now what you want.”

  “I want you on top of me.” Hart’s breathing became more ragged. “I like this position.”

  Free could just about guess why Hart desired such a simple act. Kitchen Witch must’ve hated it. Her entire stick-up-the-ass demeanor screamed missionary-style only. Which was a shame, because Hart had a body made for riding. Free laid his forehead on Hart’s cheek, sealing their bodies together from head to toe, then settling his weight on him. “How’s this?”

  Hart rubbed Free’s back in long, smooth strokes, from his neck to the swell of his ass, then stopping. He wanted Hart’s hands to go farther. He fused their lips together and lazily tasted Hart’s mouth as he moaned his satisfaction. “You can touch me. It’s okay.” He didn’t want to move Hart faster than he was ready, but according to his calculations, this was twenty-five years overdue.

  Hart buried his face in Free’s throat and slowly eased his hands down his spine toward his ass. He paused at the waistband of his sweats right before shaky fingers inched underneath.

  “Yes. I need you to touch me, Ivan.” The more aroused Free became, the more honest he was. He felt he didn’t have to hold back his own wants, and that Hart would understand how starved for touch and affection he was as well.

  “Okay,” Hart mumbled, going lower.

  The hairs on Hart’s forearms tickled the skin on his ass. Free squirmed, spreading his legs wider, pushing his hips higher in invitation. Hart’s groan was followed by his first double-handed squeeze.

  He reached beneath Free’s cheeks, and cupped him, pressing him tighter to him. Then it was Free’s turn to arch and moan. “Damn, Len, have I not been touching you like you need?”

  “Mmmm.” Free writhed shamelessly. Hart was asking him something, but he wasn’t thinking about an answer. “S’good.”

  “I want to give you want you need too, baby.” Hart kissed him behind his ear, still speaking to him with that morning rumble. Free’s cock pulsed and he flexed his hips for more pressure, “You’re so hard.”

  “Yeah. I wanna come,” Free keened. On you. He was hard. Just as solid as he’d been last night, and he’d made his orgasm wait—wait until the right time. Now was it. He couldn’t wait anymore. “But first I…”

  Hart eased one hand from inside his pants and let the other roam over Free’s chest. “You can tell me.”

  “I wanna taste you first.” Free hadn’t had to ask this in a while, and it sounded slutty as hell leaving his lips, but he didn’t care. He was breathing so hard, panting, with beads of perspiration forming on his brow. He was so close. “Just one taste, please.”

  “Oh my god.” Hart’s dick was like concrete stabbing his stomach. He definitely liked the sound of the suggestion, “I haven’t um…”

  “Shhh. I know.” There was no uncomfortable explanation needed. Free knew it’d probably been forever since Hart had had a blowjob, like maybe twenty years forever. Oh, he wanted to make this spectacular for him, but Free was so wound up himself. He was already slithering down Hart’s chest, licking and nipping at particularly hairy places as he went. He glanced up and saw that Hart’s sharp blue eyes were focused on him, watching his every move and each flick of his tongue. He wanted to give Hart one helluva show, because he’d earned it. Free dipped his tongue into Hart’s belly button, eliciting a low hum.

  “This is going to be over so damn fast,” Hart mumbled, slinging one arm over his head.

  Free glanced up. “Don’t you dare hold back.”

  “I don’t think I can if I tried.”

  Good. Free kicked the rest of the covers to the foot of the bed, then—just to draw out the delicious agony—he slowly pulled Hart’s thin sweats and briefs down his legs and onto the floor. He settled between Hart’s fuzzy thighs and spread them enough to give himself plenty of room. For a moment, all he could do was stare. Ivan Hart lay before him in all his naked glory as slivers of light shone through the gaps in the drapes and hit his sexy body in all the right places.

  Still surveying the wonderland before him, he zeroed in on Hart’s fat cock protruding from a dense, dark auburn bush. Holy fuck. Free panted noisily. Breathe. His primary goal was to get to those low-hanging balls. He wanted balls in his mouth. I’m a fiend.

  “You okay?” Hart rose slightly on one elbow, looking concerned. “You don’t have to.”

  Free dropped his head to Hart’s belly and took a couple of deep breaths. “I told you already. Don’t doubt me. You’ve got me so bloody worked-up by just looking at you, that I’m about to fucking come right now.” Free squeezed the base of his dick, groaning with his face covered.

  Hart rubbed the side of his cheek. Free enjoyed the tender touch for a second, then turned his face and took his first swipe with his tongue up Hart’s ruddy shaft.

  “Grrrrrr. Oh god, Len.”

  Free sat up at the sound of Hart’s sexy growl, going for that fat head. Going for the thick bead of moisture building at the tip. He made sure to start with the flat of his tongue so he didn’t miss a drop. Bold, exciting, potent flavors exploded on his tongue while his dick screamed for attention.

  Free dropped his ass out of the air and pressed his swollen dick into the mattress, needing the compression. The relief was instant and he fought to keep his eyes open, but the pleasure was so intense. Free opened his mouth and sucked the head, only going down a couple of inches, his mouth stretched deliciously wide. He wished he wasn’t so rusty and could take it all. But, Hart’s cock was proportionate with his body, so deep throating was going to take a while to build up to.

  “I…I can’t hold it, baby. Your mouth feels so damn good.” Hart’s hand had moved to the back of Free’s neck and was shakily kneading him there, while his legs moved restlessly on either side of him. It was a sign that Hart was close and trying to hold it off.

  They both were.

  “You don’t have to hold it.” Free came off Hart’s dick with a lewd slurp and gripped him with one hand. His fingertips just touched his thumb around the wide base, his fist buried in bush. His ass clenched in rapt anticipation.

  It’d been too damn long.

  Hart stared in fascination at Free’s fingers around his girth. Free jacked him slowly. Root to tip. Eyes on him. Hart’s knee shot up then fell to the side, the other leg going straight and tense. He loved how hard Hart was fighting to edge his climax and enjoy it for as long as he could.

  Free went for Hart’s balls. Laving and loving at the heavy orbs like an aching slut, thrusting his pelvis as sparks shot down his spine. Hart grunted, then groaned so low and deep Free felt it on his tongue. His dick throbbed and his eyes started to roll. He was coming.

  Hart’s hips rose off the bed and Free slammed him back down to the mattress, exhibiting his own display of control. He wasn’t letting Hart buck him off. Not before he had his taste.

  “Unnngh! Grrrr.” Hart’s growl sent Free spinning. He sucked Hart’s sac into his mouth and swallowed around it, pulling, groaning and vibrating his balls as Hart battled through his powerful orgasm. And damn was it forceful. Hart’s shaft pulsed in his palm as jets of hot cum shot from his slit and hit in the center of his chest. More ran over his fist. Hart emphasized each pulse with a fierce grunt that made Free shoot his load instantly, startling him. He yelled with his mouth still full of balls, his shouts of ecstasy muffled. He spilled so long he began to fear for Hart’s mattress. He finally surrendered Hart’s nuts and dropped his head on the inside of his thigh, out of breath and wonderfully spent.

  “Goddamn.” Hart breathed heavily, still lightly touching Free’s cheek. “I can’t believe…”

  Free smiled against Hart’s groin, enjoying the soothing rubs. Free noticed that no matter how excited Hart got, no matter how amazing it felt, he was still mindful of how hard he was squeezing. As if being careful to always only touch him in the best way.

  “Come up here. I wanna kiss you some more.”

  Free licked his lips and crawled up Hart’s body, ignoring the sticky mess between them. Hart turned them to their sides, handling and maneuvering Free as if he weighed nothing. Before he was even settled on the bed, Hart slanted his mouth over Free’s and kissed him thoroughly, reaching as deep with his tongue as he could. Free moaned around the slick appendage and threw one leg over Hart’s hip, his cock shuddering back to life.

  He could lay there all day, all week, just like this.

  Hart palmed his chin, then placed a few kisses along his jaw, growing braver and more confident. “Never knew I’d like kissing so much,” Hart confessed softly.

  Free’s heart ached. He leaned in and kissed Hart’s slack mouth, one hand deep in his beard. Hart moaned and squeezed Free harder, closing his eyes and tilting his chin forward. Free stroked him there like Hart desired. How could she have denied him this? Damn that woman.

  “Mmmm. Good morning.” Hart brushed their noses together, aiming for Free’s other cheek. “I’ve never woken up like that before in my life.”

  Free ran his hand over Hart’s broad shoulder. “It’s a very good morning, yes. And, I’m glad you liked it.” I wish I could wake you like that every morning.

  “I did. A lot. I can’t.” Hart chuckled lightly. “Like is really putting it mildly. But, I’m not sure I can find a more appropriate word. I’m just not that intellectual.”

  They laid there touching and holding each other, neither of them in a rush to clean the mess they’d made as the morning hours moved in and the brightly lit room told them their fun time was almost over. “What time do you have to go in?”

  “God told me to take the morning off.” Free smiled.

  “Oh he did?” Hart grumbled. “Cash’s head is so big because he meddles too much.”

  “I don’t mind him meddling if he’s going to allow us to do this more often.” Free hoped Hart was taking the hint he was throwing out there.

  “So um. Does that mean you want to do this again…soon?”

  He liked how Hart added on the soon. Soon couldn’t come fast enough. He wanted to jump up and get through the day so he could get back to soon. “Yes. Very.” Free nodded.

  Hart

  He turned toward his desk in his home office, trying to concentrate on the notes he’d made for the afternoon’s meeting while he waited for Free to finish in the bathroom. Just the thought of a man in his bedroom cleaning up from their lovemaking had his stomach fluttering with butterflies. Was it insane that he wanted to beg Free not to go, for fear that he may not come back? Even though he’d already expressed an interest in wanting to do more again, soon.

  Hart undid the second button of his dress shirt, still quite uncomfortable in the fitted garment. It was only ten in the morning and he’d already pushed up the sleeves of his dark navy blazer. Carlos had emailed him his revised schedule this morning. Now his calendar was full with back-to-back meetings with his commander and the chief. As a small press conference was a possibility, he’d dressed to be camera-ready. He picked up his remote control and muted the television that was airing the gunman suicide on every local news station. So far no one was blaming the police…only Hart blaming himself.

  “Hey,” Free said from inside his door.

  Hart spun in his chair, facing the sound of that sexy voice. Free looked handsome in dark denim jeans and a plain, white, short-sleeved T-shirt beneath his blue plaid sweater vest. It was nice in a trendy, hip way. Especially the way Free had his dark brown hair styled with a little gel—it made him appear even younger. Damn, had he seriously just had him in his bed? Free’s eyes were full of heat as he gazed back at him.

  “You’re wearing a suit.” Free stepped farther inside, his voice husky. “I’ve never seen you in a suit.”

  “I have meetings today,” Hart grumbled. “I hate wearing this, trust me.”

  Free smiled wolfishly. “Well, you shouldn’t hate it. You’ve got the shoulders for a suit.”

  Hart flushed. “Thanks.”

  Free didn’t come to him like he wanted him to, instead he went to the wall with the book shelves and surveyed more pictures of him throughout his many years on the force. On the credenza was a photo of him and his brothers on horseback on their family’s farm. Free picked up the frame.

  “Are you the oldest?”

  “No. Mike is the oldest, then me.” Hart stood, inconspicuously adjusting himself in his slacks. “The youngest is Joe.”

  “He looks like a fun guy.” Free smiled.

  “He is. He was here a few months ago with his girlfriend, visiting on my birthday. He asked me what I wanted for a gift. I told him I could use another desk chair for my home office because my last one was on its way out. And that little shithead brought me that.” Hart pointed at his chair. It was an exceptionally large, high-back executive chair with a black frame. That wasn’t the problem. It was the fact that the seat and back was made out of plush, royal blue velvet. He hated it and he loved it.

  “That’s the nicest chair I’ve ever seen.” Free laughed, rubbing his hands over the button-tufted backing.

  “Yeah, if you’re a mafia boss.” Hart rolled his eyes.

  They were quiet for a moment while Free walked around. Hart wanted to kiss him again, but wasn’t sure how to ask, or if he should just go up and take it, or if he was being too needy. Free sure seemed in a lot of need earlier.

  Free checked his watch. “You ready to go?”

  “Sure. You wanna grab a late breakfast?” Hart tucked his wallet into his inside breast pocket, clipped his cell and badge on his hip, then removed his service weapon from his safe and secured it into his shoulder holster. When he hooked his shades on his shirt, he saw Free was staring.

  It took a second for him to come to, then he blinked and asked, “What?”

 

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