I'll Be Your Last (MM)

Excerpt

STORY EXCERPT

“Your partner…”

Mack sat back down with a thump. His eyes shifted from side to side, searching for a way out. “You don’t know—” But he must know something, or he couldn’t have brought it up. Just give the kid what he wants and get out of here. Panicked, he responded in a rusty, harsh voice, “Okay, here it is. I’m saying it just once and never again. Do you understand?” Narrowing his gaze, he tried to bore a hole through Woody in a mixture of agony for his former partner and himself and lewd desires about the kid, acts he had no business wanting.

“We were ambushed.” Mack felt his face freeze into the most cold-blooded, do-not-ask expression he could muster. He didn’t want to talk about this, but if it got Woody off his back, he’d give him an abbreviated version of that day. The kid’s waiting gaze frightened him. He never opened himself up to anything this personal. Why he was willing to do it now, with this guy, he wasn’t sure. Oh. Yeah. To shut him up.

Woody’s eyes softened, just a little. It wasn’t pity. The kid was young but still a cop. He would understand.

Mack tightened his jaw and, through clenched teeth, began. “Serving a warrant. I motioned my partner, Mitch—” His voice caught on the name. “I pointed to the rear of the house, thinking it would be safer.” Then his gaze was lost in the past, directed at the bottle of beer gripped tightly in his fist.

“Fuck it,” he snarled. “All it boils down to is that he stood right in front of the back door and took a round that nicked his spinal cord.”

“Nothing he could blame you for,” was Woody’s calm reply.

“But he did.” Mack made the mistake of glancing at Woody. Those dark eyes, sparkling in the dim lights of the bar, offering—offering what? Whatever it was, he didn’t want it. He’d been stupid enough to think he could work with another young guy, and look what had happened. “It was my responsibility to train him. My decision got him shot. Don’t look at me with pity.”

“I’m not,” Woody denied. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Mitch didn’t see it that way.”

“He doesn’t any longer.”

“How do you know so much about this, kid?” Mack snapped. “You been checking up on me?” His heart hurt. His stomach roiled with the familiar guilt. He couldn’t meet Woody’s eyes and turned his gaze toward the bar, at all the hazy dim reflections in the mirror behind the display bottles.

“I asked Fred.”

“I don’t like your going behind my back.”

“I had to ask someone why you seemed so hostile toward me. Fred gave me a very sketchy story. He said IAD cleared you, and that your partner doesn’t blame you any longer. He never should have in the first place.”

“I should have watched out better for him.” Mack’s voice dropped to a tormented whisper.

“Mack, this job is dangerous. Every day is a risk. We have the public to feel responsible for.”

“Don’t give me any lectures. You wanted to know what happened, and now you do. So just drop it.” Mack couldn’t meet Woody’s eyes.

“Okay, but don’t mistrust me because of what happened with someone else. I can take care of myself. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Yeah.”

“Mack, I can take care of myself,” Woody repeated. “I’m not a rookie like your partner.”

The next thing Mack knew was the heaviness of Woody’s hand around his wrist, the one still holding the bottle. He looked down. Jesus, the kid has big hands. The jukebox had been on since he’d walked into the bar, and the song playing at that moment was “Need You Now.” Lady Antebellum really knew how to grab a guy by the guts and shake him. He couldn’t move, couldn’t remove his hand from Woody’s, couldn’t get any spit in his mouth to say one more word. At that moment, he wanted things he shouldn’t.

He froze. Shit. His hand. On me. What the hell is he doing? Thoughts pinged madly around in his brain. His wrist, his forearm tingled, his face heated, sweat formed on his upper lip.

An unbearably painful desire forced him to look up. An electric charge flashed between them. There was an instinctive recognition of like sexualities. The possibility of hot, luscious sex, of lying replete with limbs entwined. All this in the seconds of silence.

God knew he was weary of hiding. He’d been doing it so long that sometimes he didn’t know who he was anymore. What if he just turned his hand over and met Woody’s, palm to palm? What if he allowed himself to accept what was being offered?

ADULT EXCERPT

With quick, sure fingers, Mack slid Woody’s jacket and shirt down his arms and dropped them with a plonk onto the floor. They stood there, staring—almost glaring—into each other’s eyes, bare chests bumping and heaving for air. Mack’s blue gaze darkened with increasing arousal. Woody dropped to his knees to the place of real importance. His mouth was at belt buckle height, but there was no belt. Just a snap and zipper, the hiss of it lowering agonizingly loud over their heavy breathing and Woody’s wolfish growls.

Woody unclipped Mack’s gun and holster, and his, too, while he was at it, laying both on the coffee table. Then, he palmed Mack’s hips, pushing his jeans down. Commando. Oh, the pure, intoxicating rapture of that. Then a glorious erection jutted right in his face. “God, Mack.” He groaned at the beautiful, thick, pulsing cock begging for attention. He couldn’t resist flicking out his tongue and licking the rounded head with its leaking drop of seminal fluid, the musky perfume of sex filling his head.

“Suck me,” Mack ordered gruffly, flexing his hips. “Suck my cock, kid.”

Woody jerked back, almost knocking Mack over. He stood, fists clenched at his sides, and lashed out in fury, “I’m no kid, and you know it. Call me that once more, and your dick can just stay dry.”

“I’m tired of standing. Where’s your bedroom?”

He glared daggers at Mack, his breathing roughening in his struggle to keep from belting the guy. This was bad. The feral expression on Mack’s face did nothing short of turn him on even more than he already was. This was going to be so good, so fucking raunchy.

Woody would prove he was no Goddamned kid. His nostrils flared in excitement, and he wasted no time in shoving a stumbling Mack toward his bedroom. They’d need to be there eventually for round two. Might as well get there now.

He shoved Mack onto the bed, yanking his shoes, socks, and finally jeans off, tossing them all on the floor. At Mack’s carnal, and surprisingly vulnerable, cobalt gaze, he froze at the sight of the beautiful naked body, the broad chest, narrow hips, flat belly, and muscular thighs stretched out on the white sheets. Roughly, he lifted and spread Mack’s knees, crawled between them, and stopped. His heart seized at the intimacy of seeing the balls and pucker on display, the asshole he’d dreamed of taking. He liked being fucked, and he liked doing the fucking. And this was one man he really wanted to fuck.

Narrowing his gaze, he taunted, “Does a kid do this?” Leaning down, he licked the thick head of Mack’s cock, rolled his tongue around, getting him all wet, probing the slit, nipping at it, scraping his teeth over the sensitive flesh.

Mack groaned, and his penis swelled longer and harder, apparently responding to the rough treatment.

With a lavish lick at the salty drop slithering from the hole, Woody glanced up and, lifting an eyebrow, challenged, “Huh? Am I still a kid to you?”

Mack grunted, and with an evil smirk, he thrust his erection toward Woody’s lips. “Suck me off and swallow it, kid. You do that, and I’ll call you a man.”

“You son of a bitch!” Woody used Mack’s hard thighs as leverage to push himself to his feet and back away. “You’re just here for a blow job? I don’t need to suck you off to prove I’m a man.” He’d never been this furious before in his life. “I’m not playing games with you. Get the hell out of here.”

With all this testosterone and adrenaline working, he should have realized Mack just wanted a physical outlet. It would mean nothing to Mack. Woody would mean nothing.

* * * *

Mack realized instantly he’d gone too far. “This isn’t a game.” He grabbed Woody’s arm and yanked him down on the bed beside him, gripping his jaw—oh yeah, his beard was soft—and slinging a thigh over his legs.

Woody’s long lashes rested on his cheeks. Then his eyes opened, his gaze intrigued and eager. Woody didn’t want to stop this any more than Mack did.

Their kisses had been much more addictive than he’d imagined possible. Woody’s lips held firm against his, the short hairs of his beard tickling. Mack licked, roughly working his way inside his mouth. Then Woody was his. Pressing his hairy chest on Woody’s hard one, the warm, sleek skin a comfort all its own, he took his mouth, scraped his teeth with the flat of his tongue, teasing the tip across the roof, suckling Woody’s tongue.

It’d been a long time since he’d felt this out of control. Breaking the kiss, he pushed up. “Where’s your stuff?” He was frantic to fuck the kid. “I want inside your ass.”

Woody’s expression was dazed. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Drawer.” He pointed in the direction of the nightstand.

“You can’t be fucked with your jeans on.” Mack gripped Woody’s snap, lowered the zipper, and shoved the pants down long legs, leaving him in gray boxer briefs stretched snugly around lightly furred, muscular thighs. Muscular just like his. His heart stuttered with desperate need. Woody’s body was everything he wanted in another man.

The tight knit of the boxers barely hid Woody’s sizeable cock, erect and ready to bust out of the soft material. Mack yanked the shorts off and wrapped his fingers around Woody’s shaft, caressing his cock from base to tip. His eyes closed in the pleasure of controlling the hard heat, his mouth watering for a taste.

He had no intention of depriving either of them of that pleasure, and lowered his mouth to slide over the head. Nothing in the world was as delicious as another man’s red, shiny cockhead, glistening wet with spit and pre-cum. He licked it like an ice cream cone, sticking to the tip, tonguing and nipping the slit the same as Woody had done to him. Mack needed the rough handling of his dick. He’d find out if Woody did, too.

With a shout, Woody jerked his hips off the bed, thrusting his cock fully into Mack’s mouth.

His nose nestled in Woody’s pubic hair. Oh, yeah! Man scent made him hungry for more.