Nothing Special V, page 3
part #5 of Nothing Special Series
He ran his hands across his forehead, wiping the sweat that’d accumulated there. Tech closed his eyes and did his breathing exercises to calm himself. Ro’s screams for his team were still ringing in his ears. All of their voices were in his head. He could recognize each one of them without them having to identify themselves. He kept his earpiece in at all times, even when he slept or showered, never removed it. It was as much a part of him as his right arm. The men only put theirs in if needed. He was the only one that could hear them, so he was the one who had to communicate their needs. Sure, he could put the live feed on the radio in the office or their cars, but it would be absolute chaos if all of them were able to talk through their devices at once. He’d designed the system himself and so far, it’d been foolproof. His job wasn’t always this stressful; it wasn’t always a massive shootout with very little assistance. God was adamant about securing complete intel and a solid plan before moving in. Safety always his primary concern. But on this one, Artist really fucked them over by pulling a rope-a-dope. And Tech wasn’t the least bit sorry that asshole was dead now.
“Tech, are you back there?”
He sat up higher at the sound of his sergeant’s raspy voice and made himself look like he was busy tinkering with some of his gadgets instead of getting his shit together.
“Shawn?”
“Yeah, I’m back here, Syn.” Tech straightened his posture, furrowing his brow like he was reading something on the monitor.
He heard the man’s light footsteps getting closer. He should’ve known someone would come looking for him when they didn’t see him at his enormous desk full of monitors and contraptions. Tech looked around at the huge room that held the team’s specialty weapons, firearms, Michaels’ sniper rifles, their armor, surveillance equipment, and a ton of other stuff, all managed by him. His system was flawless and the men were constantly praising him for his ingenuity.
“You alright in here, buddy?” Syn asked, his voice always a comfort.
“Yeah. I’m good,” Tech replied, picking up his 15-inch tablet, the weight of it surprisingly comforting as well – like God’s Desert Eagles were against his side.
“You did great tonight. You stayed cool under the pressure and you dispatched assistance quickly. You saved our lives.” Syn looked him in the eyes, making Tech shy away from that penetrating glare.
“No. You guys save yourselves. I’m just behind the desk, safe in the office, like always.” Tech bit his bottom lip. He knew his job was important, he truly did. But the team were the ones that did the really hard stuff. The cut above Syn’s eye proving it. Tech winced at the dark red cut. “Let me see that. It might need stitches.”
“Tech.”
“I’ll call Vasquez to come take a look,” Tech kept going. Vasquez was a paramedic before he became a police officer. He worked the third shift and didn’t mind offering his assistance whenever needed. Tech raised his tablet up, about to shoot Vasquez a message. His fear of almost losing Syn tonight still heavy on his heart.
A rough hand clasped over his before he could tap on the screen. Syn gently removed it from his hands and set it down on one of the wide shelves in the room. Next thing he knew, Syn pulled him into his hard chest, securing him tightly. It only took him a few seconds to raise his own arms up and clasp them around Syn’s back. His body was all rippling, hard muscles that he could feel under the man’s thin APD t-shirt. He smelled clean, manly, and Syn felt safe, no longer in danger. Tech buried his face in Syn’s neck and sighed his relief against him. It was amazing; Syn always knew exactly what everyone needed.
“You’re an integral member of this team, and you know this by now, so stop fishing.” Syn smirked in that sexy way of his.
Tech pushed his black-framed glasses up a little higher, a slight smile curving his lips. The guys did always include him. He never said he felt like an outcast, just not as important. They could always find another technology specialist.
“Come on. God and Day are back in the office.”
Tech finished checking in Ruxs’ submachine guns and walked back out of the equipment room, closing the door – which was only accessible by a code – behind him. He walked slowly back to his work station, his eyes locked on Day and Green as they held each other in a tight embrace. Tech could only imagine what it was like to save another man’s life, unfortunately, he’d never know.
“Alright everyone, listen up,” God said, his voice rough and commanding. His sharp green eyes scanned the room, making sure he made contact with each and every one of them. When he finally began to speak, it was in that frightening low timbre that always made goosebumps pop up on Tech’s arms. “Tonight was one of the most difficult fights we’ve faced in a very long time. But we persevered, like always. Because we are the goddamn best. A message went out tonight fellas, to those motherfuckers we hunt every day. We are not to be fucked with. I don’t care who comes up next because to be the baddest you gotta be capable of beating the baddest. No matter who they send, no matter how many they send… they will go down, just like those bastards did tonight. I’m damn lucky to have each one of you. We were a unit, moving as one. Even apart, we are deadly, but when combined – we are fuckin’ unstoppable, and that’s what those thugs saw tonight. We’re going to get some negative feedback in the press – but we’ll ignore that shit like we always do because they know damn well they’ll have peace of mind knowing that we control these motherfuckin’ streets! They’ll sleep better knowing that we rule the night. We rid Atlanta of a deadly poison by taking down Artist, and they know it. So ignore it all. They stick a camera in your face, shove it down their throat. It’s us risking our lives out here to keep them safe.” God turned and looked at Day, his voice wavering for only a second before he continued strong, “Go home, rest up this weekend. Make love to your man. I’ll see you back in here on Monday to do what we fuckin’ do.”
Tech loved God’s speeches. They always made everyone feel like they were twenty feet tall, including him. Because when he’d been speaking, those fierce emerald eyes had locked on him as well. The lieutenants stood there talking with Syn while the rest of them packed up. They probably had a shit ton of paperwork and meetings scheduled now, not to mention going to check on Ro. Tech was going to go by Ro’s house on his way out of town tomorrow. He packed his laptop and tablet in his messenger bag, shut down all his systems and left with Ruxs and Green, both of them giving him dap and a shoulder bump before they turned into the parking lot, heading towards Green’s new Camaro.
Day
Although he’d taken a shower at the station to clear away all the grime and dust from the shootout, he’d come home and poured an unbelievable amount of Epsom salt into his Jacuzzi tub and climbed in to hopefully soothe the aches that were starting to make themselves known now that the adrenaline had worn off. They’d stopped by to see Ro, needing to see for themselves that he was fine. Johnson was right there at his bedside, his hand clasped in his partner’s, his head resting on Ro’s thigh. They only stayed a few minutes since Ro was in and out on pain medicine. After kissing his forehead, they promised to go by his place tomorrow. That’s what family did.
Dawn was fast approaching and Day was almost falling asleep in the bathtub when he felt God caress his cheek. “Come on. Time to get some rest.”
Day watched God walk back into the bedroom; that huge lion’s head tattooed on his back ordering him to follow. Day dried off and closed the heavy drapes in their bedroom and climbed onto their king-sized bed. God was on him before Day had a chance to climb on top of him.
“You feel okay, Leo?” God said against Day’s ear, already licking his way across his jaw to his neck.
Day sighed, pushing his hips higher in answer, his cock already aching with need – it obviously not too affected by his fatigue. He needed God’s touch. Needed him to make him feel alive after coming so close to death. He had to let go of the current discord in their relationship, if only for one night, and let his man’s touch heal him.
“Wrap your legs around me,” God told him, and Day moaned just from the way God spoke to him. Sounded in his ear. Like a force to reckoned with. He had no reservations about surrendering his body to whatever God was going to do. He trusted him completely.
He started at his head, placing the softest kisses on his bruised temple before he licked his way down the length of his body, not daring to skip his feet. God massaged the arches there with strong pressure before gently kissing his heels. God cared for his body as though worshipping a king. Treasured every part him, leaving nothing untouched, ensuring every piece of him experienced exhilaration. Igniting every nerve. He jolted those dormant sensations back to life like a surgeon would a coder after yelling “clear!”
Sometimes their sex was fast, hard, God taking him forcefully up against their bedroom wall when he wanted to remind Day of his power and strength. But tonight God was doing exactly what he’d told their men to do. Go home… make love to your man. Show your partners exactly what they mean to you. It was easy to forget sometimes, to take each day for granted. Tonight was an almost catastrophic reminder of how fast something precious could be yanked away from you.
Day tangled his hands in God’s dirty-blond hair. Rubbing his scalp while he feasted on him. Dragging his hands lazily through those soft waves that stopped just past his shoulders. This was the longest he’d ever worn it; because Day had asked him to let it grow. He arched his back and sighed into the dawn as God took him deep into his warm mouth, fitting all he had inside. He didn’t know which of them was louder, it was combined, continuous grunts of arousal.
“I want you to come down my throat, Leo.”
Day knew it wouldn’t take him long to do exactly that. They’d been arguing, disagreeing, which was what made this night so monumental. Day spread his legs wide, thrashing while saliva slid down his balls and into his seam. God was fingering him, sucking him, licking him all at the same time, and Day’s orgasm hit with the momentum of the Titanic. He came like it was long overdue.
God slurped obscenely until Day was dry. Until he had nothing left and God finally rose up his body, his mouth wet and shiny, his brow damp from putting in the work. Day’s head swam with euphoria while God slathered his thick cock with lube. Day was still riding high when his legs were pulled up, his knees at his cheeks, his ankles on God’s broad shoulders. His lover leaned down and kissed him hard, shared his essence with him, and it almost drove him insane. They kissed with a forgotten passion – and at the same time – God brought his hips down and didn’t stop until their pelvises kissed and his cock was buried deep. One continuous drive, until their balls touched and Day’s mouth dropped open in a silent shout.
He shivered; his eyes rolling in his head as God gave him shallow pumps first, keeping them connected in every way they knew how. “You’ll never be without me, Cash.” Day tightened and clenched around God, swallowing the yells that erupted from his slick mouth.
“I want you to say that the entire time I make love to you right now, Leo.”
“Never, Cash.”
“Say it our entire lives.” God pulled out and glided back in.
“Never be without me.” He grunted after God hit a spot so deep inside him Day thought he’d pass out from the feeling. God pressed all that bulk and muscle down on him, making him sink deeper into the plush mattress. Their chests were sweaty, gliding together, the friction and emotion so overwhelming Day forgot what he was ordered to do, and God had no qualms reminding him. The full length of that cock slid out and paused like God was using a remote control. One of his legs was knocked off God’s shoulder and pushed out to the side. God aimed in another direction, going deeper than before, and a rumbled growl tore through him that vibrated Day’s chest. “Say it, Leo.”
“Ohh. Never… never… never,” Day moaned with each languid drive inside of him. God took his time, took his pleasure, loving him well into the morning.
Steele
Damn, why couldn’t people just leave him the hell alone? Steele had arrived back in Atlanta only three weeks ago and his uncle had already sent for him. He wasn’t the least bit concerned about making a difference anymore. All he’d done was fight for the good, the innocent, fight for his country, and look what it got him. Look at all it took from him. Half of his battalion killed behind enemy lines. Then his partner shot and killed because his backup was a goddamn homophobic sonofabitch. But Steele’s last straw was when his own department covered it up. He was turning in his shield and there was nothing his uncle could do about it.
Steele took another shot of Jack, not caring that it was only one o’clock in the afternoon. He’d heard that day drinking was the new trend, anyway. Everyone’s doing it. He grinned at himself, kind of liking his new sense of freedom. He pulled on his tan rustic leather jacket and bent over to tie his black shit-kickers but stopped when his head protested. Shit. He groaned and stood back up, automatically looking around for his badge before realizing he didn’t need it anymore. Ever again. Fuck Oakland.
His phone buzzed in the pocket of his ratty jeans, but he ignored it again. He knew who it was and he knew he was late, but he was too fucked up to get on his bike. He might not care about his own miserable existence right now, but he wasn’t going to kill anyone else.
Because you care. You’ll always care; it’s who you are, Steele.
Steele growled at the sound of his best friend’s voice in his head and pulled the half-empty bottle of whiskey back out of the cabinet, this time not bothering with a shot glass. He tipped it back and gulped a couple times, wincing at the harsh burn. He’d do it until he couldn’t hear that voice anymore. Until he could get some peace, maybe even some sleep.
You won’t find peace unless you’re fighting for what’s right.
Gulp. Gulp.
He stepped outside the broken screen door of his single-wide trailer and lit the last half of his Swisher Sweet Little cigar. The air was brisk and comfortable this time of year, reminding him that he’d always liked Atlanta in the fall. It was boots and leather coats weather, perfect for riding his bike. He needed to ride, wanted to feel the vibration against his balls, feel the freedom that came with it. But he’d have to sober up enough, first.
He looked around the rundown trailer park, kicking a couple beer cans to the side as he stood on the rickety porch surveying the filth around him. He was never a man of expensive taste or much class. Give him a decent television with good reception and a roof and he was satisfied. He didn’t need a walk-in closet, overpriced furniture, or a fancy kitchen with stainless steel appliances; shit, he couldn’t cook anyway, hence the garbage bags full of takeout containers and pizza boxes. He worked out enough to combat the negative effects of his diet.
“What up, cop?” a man who lived a few trailers down threw at him on his way by. It wasn’t a friendly greeting or one that warranted a response. He wasn’t a social neighbor and most that came across his path never had the desire to see him again. Which suited him just fine.
Steele pulled a deep inhale off his cigar, blowing half of the sweet-smelling smoke out of his nose. His phone buzzed again and he let his cigar hang out the side of his mouth while he pulled his jacket open to get it. He read the short text, frowning at the audacity of his one and only relative.
A car will be there in two minutes… get in it.
Damn. He figured he might as well get this over with. His uncle would be disappointed in his decision to leave law enforcement, but if there’s one thing Steele never did, it was let anyone tell him how to live his life.
He listened to the depressing sounds of the place he currently called home, the crying babies, the fighting spouses, the god-awful heavy metal music that his neighbor blasted no matter what time of day or night it was, but still he felt no desire to be anywhere else. Ackerman was gone, his best friend, the man who he’d wanted more than anything to become his lover, was gone.
He stood there with one hand braced on the rusted overhang while he watched a shiny, black Lincoln Town Car navigate around the deep potholes of the one street that curved through his neighborhood. One way in and one way out. As the car got closer, Steele heard the door across the street bang against the side of the metal trailer, and a toddler that looked too old to still be in diapers hurried out into the yard, heading toward the street.
Steele’s heart lurched and without thought, his body sprang into action. He ran across the dirt that made up his yard and grabbed the little boy before he could run out in front of the Lincoln, the fender clipping the heel of his boot. He was just able to regain his footing and not drop the kid.
The boy was at least three or four. His hair was a tangled mess of sandy brown curls and he wore nothing except his Pull-Up, which was barely hanging on since it was weighed down with urine. He had bright brown eyes and he looked at Steele like he was Superman, not the slightest bit concerned that he was in the arms of a stranger. The benefits of being young and oblivious.
Steele placed the kid back inside the front door and locked it from the inside, not bothering to notify the parents. This wasn’t the first time the little one had run outside; Steele would most likely see him back out again when he came home later.
Steele climbed in the front seat of the Lincoln.
“No smoking in here.”
“Fine, I’ll stay here.” Steele went for the handle.
“No wait,” the driver hurriedly said.
“Mm hmm. Drive,” Steele grunted and pulled another long drag on his cigar. He didn’t care when the teen in a grown-up outfit put the window all the way down, he simply reclined and enjoyed the cool breeze in his hair.
