Trust in the Fast Lane, page 7
Me, too. I went slow, toe curling, lose my mind slow. My arm muscles quivered and I was getting awfully close. I paused and placed his own hand on his dick. He went with it and jacked himself as I drove into him harder. I really wanted him to get off first…
Michael’s body arched and spasmed, spurting come up his belly.
I stopped fighting and let my body have its way, pleasure tightening damn near everything as I came inside him.
Done, riding the rush, we locked eyes. He looked dazed. I eased out and tossed the condom into the trashcan near the bed. And flopped belly down next to him, one arm around his body.
We didn’t talk for a while. He petted my arm, my shoulder, my side, fingertips following no path, just wandering.
“I guess I’m gay,” he finally whispered.
“Why? Because you enjoyed it?” I was amused, because it was such a black and white conclusion.
“I…uh, it was good, mind-melting good.”
“Michael, you can own any label you want but I think maybe you need to think about it for a while. What if it wasn’t me?”
He rolled on his side. “No, I couldn’t have…”
“Because I suspect it makes a difference. And I love you no matter what.”
He gave me a totally dopey smile and kissed me.
* * * *
Dinner was pizza and beer. We watched bad action flicks and criticized all the crap the police did blatantly wrong. I convinced him to go for another run. We ran through the darkness. I followed his lead since I didn’t know the area. We paused at a stop light.
“You don’t really like running,” he commented.
“No. I do it because I need to be efficient at it. I’d rather tune out and do the elliptical for cardio.”
“Do you run when you’re home?”
“Now and then.”
The light changed and we crossed. We covered another half mile or so before turning back on the street he lived on.
“See you back at the building,” he said and took off at a sprint. I managed to keep close for the first two blocks then he widened the distance. Lord, he was poetry in motion, legs eating up the distance. I gave up and just maintained a pace for the last quarter mile, finally slowing when I got to the front of the place he lived. He was walking back and forth, cooling down. I stopped and bent over, gasping a little.
“Track team in college?” I panted.
“No, I just like to run.”
“Bastard.”
He grinned.
I plodded around in a circle for a minute or two then stretched a bit. We took the stairs back up to his condo.
Chapter 18: Chicago Detective Michael Branham
Back in bed, this time it was dark. I lay with my head on Sully’s shoulder. God, when had I become dependent? I could hear his heartbeat under my ear. His fingers played along my arm.
“Are you sore?” he asked.
“A little.”
“So was that a one-time only event?”
I thought about the physical sensations but also the emotions that went with it. “I doubt it, but I’m not sure if I could ever do it with anyone other than you. I didn’t understand what you meant about the trust thing.”
He made a low snort of amusement. “So I’m so good I spoiled you for anyone else?”
I kicked him.
“Ow. Police brutality.”
“Asshole.”
He turned to wrap me tighter in his arms, kissing me softly. “For some guys, the trust thing is very hard.”
“Yeah.”
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I care about you, Sully. I’m just not sure where I stand.”
“That’s okay.”
* * * *
I wish I could say the nightmare didn’t return. It did. I was halfway across the bed, on my hands and knees crawling…I had no idea where. The difference was that this time when Sully grabbed me, I didn’t fight him. His hands on my arms yanked me out of the nightmare enough for me to sag down onto my chest.
“Michael?”
I rested my forehead on my arm, listening to the thunder of my pulse. “I’m okay.”
“Memories?”
“Sort of. And weird crap that didn’t happen.”
He rubbed my back in silence for quite a while, more patient than I ever expected another man to be. Finally, I slipped back under the blankets and fell asleep with his arm around me.
* * * *
Captain Martinez, my boss, called me about the middle of the next morning.
“Internal affairs has cleared you. Lethal force was justified,” he said.
“Thank you. I’m glad to hear that my decision was…”Fuck, I didn’t have a word to put at the end of that sentence.
“Once you get an okay from the department psychologist, you can return to duty.”
I knew the shrink thing was standard protocol, but the thought of spilling my guts to someone other than Sully? I didn’t think I could do that right now. Not today. I wasn’t even sure tomorrow seemed likely. “Sir, I need a few days. I’ll burn my vacation time or take it unpaid, whatever you think is easiest.”
“I understand. Even though you did nothing wrong, it was a tough call. Any idea how many days you think you need?”
I wasn’t sure what to ask for. I wasn’t stupid. I did know I was too scattered to do my job right now. I’d screw something up, or get myself killed.
Sully murmured in my ear, “Tell him you need at least a week.”
“A week, sir, I need at least a week. “
“Take it as vacation. Call me in a week. Let me know what day you’ll be back. Go fishing or something.”
“I’ll call, but, sir, I don’t fish.”
“Do something relaxing,” Martinez said.
“Yes, sir.”
I thumbed off the phone, and walked toward the sliding glass door that led to the balcony. It was raining outside. I leaned against the frame looking out.
Sully came up behind me and put an arm around me, setting his chin on my shoulder. “Come home with me.”
“You live in Virginia.”
“Yeah, and you could use some space between you and Chicago.”
“Maybe.”
“Throw some stuff in a bag, get in my Jeep and we’ll road trip it back to my place.”
I watched the rain. It sounded tempting, but part of my brain was balking. I felt vulnerable, dependent on Sully for keeping me from totally coming apart at the seams. I ought to be stronger. I was a cop for God’s sake…And maybe that was the crux of the problem. If I wasn’t a cop, I never would have been in that situation. If I took the days and escaped to DC, what then? I had no answer.
Chapter 19: US Marshal Ken Sullivan
I was relieved Michael agreed to come with me. Even though he wasn’t quite in crisis mode any more, the thought of leaving him on his own was uncomfortable. He had friends and work colleagues and I was fairly certain he wouldn’t go to any of them if his mood turned dark again.
It took us close to sixteen hours to drive back to Falls Church. The drive was broken by more frequent stops than my wild almost panicked trip up. I took great delight in teasing him when I let him drive for a while.
“No rolling my Cherokee.”
“There’s no snow.”
“I don’t know. It could happen.”
“And we’re not chasing anyone.”
“You hope,” I ribbed him.
He flipped me a middle finger.
I laughed. “Maybe when we get to my house.”
* * * *
We fell into bed and did absolutely nothing except sleep until the middle of the next morning. I stumbled out of bed and fired up the coffee pot. I checked my email on my computer. There was a message from Tazewell, asking me to get in touch as soon as was feasible. Feasible, that basically translated to make your ass available ASAP. I called.
“This is Sullivan.”
“Tell me what you remember about Derek Conti.”
“Uh, witness against an organized crime ring in Richmond. Sinclair and I escorted him to Pennsylvania, somewhere below Pittsburg. I’m sorry I’ve forgotten the name of the town.”
“He’s testifying tomorrow, and he wants you and Sinclair to play bodyguard. Can you do that?”
“Yeah, I’m available. We are only talking to and from the courthouse and not over night?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’ll see you first thing in the morning then.” I hung up.
Michael shuffled out of the bedroom, hair tousled, wearing a pair of low-slung sleep pants. He looked edible. “You have to go to work.”
“Tomorrow, and probably the next day, too. Witness detail.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
I walked over to stand in front of him. “I know.” I put a hand on the side of his neck. “But I’m not past worrying yet.” I suspected the comment might make him angry.
He stared at the ceiling. “No nightmares last night.”
“Which is a step in the right direction.” The fact he didn’t snap at me reinforced my worry. He’d made a little progress, but he was still obviously not past agonizing and self-doubt.
“I’m going to call my sister. She lives in Silver Spring. If she’s available, I’ll catch the metro up to see her tomorrow.”
“Come have breakfast. We still have the rest of today.”
Chapter 20: Chicago Detective Michael Branham
The last time I had seen my sister Hailey was at Uncle Ned’s funeral. We talked on the phone every couple of weeks, and swapped email occasionally. I arranged to meet her at a deli within walking distance of a metro stop.
“Michael!” She gave me a hug.
“Hey, sis.”
“So, what brings you back to the DC area?”
“I…took some time off work.” We sat down in a booth.
“And you’re here, rather than shooting rockets off somewhere. What gives?”
“Something happened on the job.”
She gave me an analytical look. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“There was a shooting.”
Hailey looked me up and down. “You’re obviously in one piece. Are you in trouble?”
“No, I was cleared. It’s just…complicated. I really don’t want to talk about the details right now.”
“Ok.” She stirred her coffee. “Where are you staying? You could’ve come to stay with me.”
“I’m staying with a guy I know.” I floundered, trying to figure out a good way to approach my relationship with Sully.
“A colleague?”
“It started out that way.”
“Enh, so you’re friends. Is he a rocket builder?”
I smiled. “No. He’s…more than a friend.”
She gave me a puzzled look. “BFF then.”
“No…um…uh, boyfriend.” Which made me think I sounded like I was sixteen.
She raised an eyebrow. “Boyfriend? As in dating?”
“Yeah. We’re…He drove seven hundred miles to come stay with me the day after the shooting.”
“That sounds like more than dating.” Hailey reached out and touched my arm. “Are you coming out then?”
“Um, maybe. I’m not really sure. It’s not as black and white as you think,” I said.
“It’s fine. However you feel comfortable. I can’t say I saw this coming though.”
“I’m working on the whole thing.”
“What’s his name? Is he a cop? You implied he was a colleague.”
“His name is Ken Sullivan, but he goes by Sully. He’s a US Marshal. We worked an op together in Chicago, but he lives here. Falls Church specifically.”
“Pictures?”
“I don’t have any.” Christ. That made me feel like he was my dirty secret. “We’ve been playing this kind of under the table.”
Hailey tilted her head. “Do I get to meet him?”
“Eventually.”
“With you in Chicago and him here, that has to be tough.”
“I don’t have an answer for that right now. What do you think Mom and Dad’s reaction is going to be?”
“Maybe just a little bit of shock, but I think they’ll be okay with it.”
* * * *
When Sully got home, I was on the sofa, laptop open. He flopped down beside me and pulled his tie loose.
“Bad day?” I asked.
“Not especially, just tedious. Deliver the witness to court. Kill time for most of the day. Take witness back to safe house. Repeat tomorrow.”
“I told my sister about us today.”
“And did she blow a gasket?”
“No, no, she was surprised, but she’s pretty open-minded.”
“Good. Can I ask you something related?” Sully asked.
“Yes.”
“My cousin Kelsey is getting married this weekend. I got an invitation. It says plus one. Will you go with me?”
“I didn’t bring a suit with me. God, I sound like a freaking girl. I don’t have a thing to wear.” I mimed a hands in the air protest.
Sully laughed. “We’ll swing by the mall tomorrow after work and you can pick up a dress shirt. I’ll loan you a tie and it’ll be fine.”
“Since we’re talking about families, is yours going to spaz?”
“Doubtful.” Sully toed off his shoes and shrugged out of his blazer. He took off his shoulder holster and laid it on the coffee table. Scooting back into the corner of the sofa, he beckoned me toward him with a finger. “Put the computer down.”
I did. I leaned against his chest, my head on his shoulder. He folded his arms around me, breathing into my hair.
“Now for the stickier question, would you be up for an informal job interview on Monday?” Sully asked.
I sat up, and twisted around to face him. “What are you talking about?”
He held up his hands in a gesture of placation. “Chill, just hear me out. While I was dawdling at the courthouse I ended up talking to someone I know from Metro PD. He said there’s a couple of potential openings for detectives, especially for a cop who’s got some experience. I asked him if he knew who was in charge of hiring. He gave me a name. Jacob Kofa. I made a couple of phone calls and Kofa said he’d be willing to have a chat.”
“And what exactly am I supposed to do about this?”
“Anything. Nothing. Maybe just go talk to Kofa and see if you think you’d fit.”
I got up and paced across the floor, before stopping and turning to look at Sully. Here I was, hundreds of miles from home, purposely putting distance between me and Chicago. “I wish you’d asked first.”
“If you’re not interested, it’s no big deal. I can call him back and tell him I jumped the gun. It’s not an interview. HR’s not involved. It’s a casual conversation between two cops.”
I raked my fingers back through my hair. This was a hard and messy situation and I would’ve said I wasn’t the type to think with my heart…until I’d met Sully. But ever since the crazy blizzard adventure, I’d done things I’d thought I’d never do, floundered my way through emotions I’d never had before and laid myself open. It was probably a good thing there was eight feet of space between us, because otherwise I didn’t know if I could ask this. “Do you want me in DC? I mean long term.”
“Michael, I love you. I want you in my life, in my house and in my bed.” He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, hands pressed together.
The look he gave me tore at things inside me. I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I’ll go talk to Kofa.” I crossed the room and knelt down in front of him. “We’ll see what happens and take it from there.” I took both of his hands in mine and wondered if he could hear the pounding of my heart.
He squeezed my fingers and tilted his head, kissing me.
Chapter 21: US Marshal Ken Sullivan
I think I skirted a heart attack waiting for Michael to tell me he was actually going to agree to talk to Kofa. It didn’t matter that he had told his sister about his relationship with me. Relationships could come and go in a heartbeat. Possibly quitting his job in Chicago and moving to DC…that was a big deal. I suck at lying to people I care about and I had already told him flat out that I loved him. I had a suspicion it might take him a very long time to say those three words. That was fine. I could wait.
We ordered Chinese takeout for dinner. Sitting on the sofa, watching TV, Michael said, “Talking to Hailey today, she asked to see a picture of us. I realized I don’t have any.”
“We can fix that.” I set my plate on the coffee table. “Gimme your phone.” Michael put it in my hand. “Put your food down.” When he did so, I put one arm around him and stretched the other out, and snapped a head and shoulders photo of the two of us. “Kiss me.” He was hesitant, but did so. I pushed the photo button on the phone a couple more times. “Any chance I can get you to take your shirt off?” I teased.
“Not with the phone in your hand.” Michael tried to grab it out of my hand.
I stretched backward, keeping it out of his reach. We ended up wrestling. I clamped my legs around his body and arched backward, just barely keeping the phone away from him. He struggled and pushed me flat off the sofa. The phone skittered out of my hand and hit the carpet.
“Asshole,” he said and tickled me, pinning me with his body weight.
We flailed around as I made a half-hearted escape attempt. He grabbed my wrists and pulled them over my head. I still had my legs around him, but now they were at the level of his thighs. I lifted my head and licked the side of his neck. “Blow me.”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll take pictures.”
“You damn well won’t.” He tickled me again. We ended up rolling off the sofa, and hit the floor. “Ow,” he groaned.
“Sorry.”
We both giggled like idiots as I crawled off him, and sat up. “Maybe we ought to finish having dinner.”
Michael pushed me flat on the floor and pinned me. “I want you.” The low growl of his voice was a serious turn on.
Hell. Finishing dinner could damn well wait. “Lube’s in the bedroom.”
He bit me, where my neck and shoulder met, not hard enough to really hurt. It was hard enough though I got the hint this was going to be rough and fast. That was fine. Horsing around with him had set the tone. He got up and gave me a hand up as well.
