For the Bite of It (15 page)

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Authors: Viki Lyn,Vina Grey

BOOK: For the Bite of It
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Vincent handed him the receipt and their fingers grazed, shooting an electric current along John’s arm and into his heart. He kept his gaze down as he pocketed the receipt.

When he finally looked up, Vincent held him with those hypnotic eyes.

John couldn’t help himself. All of his anger and frustration melted into a puddle of need. He’d deal with the secrets…later.

He took Vincent’s face between his hands and kissed his forehead. He pulled back and smiled at the round eyes taking him in. “Do you have any new cupcakes for me to try?”

Vincent shook his head, his mouth half opened. It was a really cute expression on such a handsome face.

John brushed Vincent’s hair back from his neck. “What’s this? It’s beautiful.” He hadn’t noticed the intricate tattoo. He traced his finger along the elegant lines of the intertwining symbols, sexy on the wonderful olive skin.

Vincent shivered. “A youthful folly.”

John didn’t believe him but he let it go. He had more important matters on his mind. With the entire length of his body, John pushed Vincent backward until he hit the edge of the table, the bowl holding the icing rattling from the impact.

“John?”

He placed a finger to those sexy lips. “Shut up.”

This wasn’t why he’d come here but Vincent pinned against him changed his plans.

John ran his hand down Vincent’s stubble-rough cheek, and cupped his palm behind his nape. He licked Vincent’s upper lip then kissed that full mouth. He found once he’d been kissed by a man, he loved it. Or maybe he loved kissing
this
man.

Their tongues meshed, played and danced. Vincent tasted of chocolate and coffee. John could do this all day. Wanted to do it all day.

When did he get so greedy for this guy?

He kissed him again, slipping his tongue back in. Vincent made grunting sounds, and it spurred John on. Their kiss turned dark and seriously hot. Vincent pushed his erection up against John’s hard cock.

“Don’t be in such a hurry.” John smiled.

“No?” Vincent twisted around and scooped some icing from the bowl. He turned to John and crooked the finger coated with a gob of chocolate. The sweet aroma teased John’s already heightened senses.

“Open wide.”

John sucked the icing between his lips, the sugary taste exploding in his mouth. His tongue lapped at Vincent’s finger like Vincent’s tongue had played with his dick the other night. He fumbled for the tie of that ridiculous apron and let it slide to the ground. Unzipping Vincent’s pants, he shoved them down along with Vincent’s briefs. Stepping back, he took in the thick hard cock rising upward against a nest of dark curls. He fished his wallet out from his back pocket, before he had second thoughts, and removed a condom. He shouldn’t do this but damn if he could make himself stop. It was as if someone else had entered his body. He wanted to pleasure the man who had taken him to heaven and then some.

He kneeled in front of Vincent as his hands glided down the sinewy thighs. “Surprised?”

Vincent laughed. “Pleasantly so.”

John tore open the foil and removed the rubber. “You want to?”

“Oh no,
amante
, this is all your show.”

John slid it on, wishing he could suck the cock unsheathed, but maybe, if they…no, he wouldn’t go there. Not now. Now he wanted to suspend this moment in time.

He licked the length of Vincent’s cock, swirling his tongue around his head.

Vincent groaned, his knees shaking, hands gripping John’s shoulders. “I never took you for a tease.”

He smiled at Vincent. “You don’t know the half of it.”

John nuzzled his face into the wiry curls and breathed in that wonderful male scent. He kissed the tip of Vincent’s cock. It reached for his mouth, as if begging to be sucked. He’d never sucked off a man, but a desire to please Vincent overtook his fear of not performing up to par.

John sucked in the length. The hot rubber taste was weird but pleasant. As he took in Vincent’s cock, he cupped the heavy balls and gave a gentle squeeze.

Vincent arched his back, and gasped. “
Amante,
you’re going to kill me.”

The endearment sent a shiver down John’s spine. He tightened his lips around the shaft then began to lick the sides. Fingernails clutched into his shoulders, the slight pain pleasurable.

John took Vincent all the way in. He grabbed his hair as he pumped into John’s mouth, his hips thrusting back and forth, his breaths ragged.

John pressed his tongue on the underside of Vincent’s shaft knowing how good it felt when done to him. Then he took in the entire length again, smiling as Vincent dug his hands deeper into his skin, urging him on.

John went balls deep, the short hairs brushing against his chin. Vincent bucked into his mouth. He sucked hard and relentless. Vincent gripped hard. Heat surrounded them, the aroma of cupcakes forever associated with great sex.

“I can’t hold off…
oh dio
,” Vincent’s hoarse voice rasped over John.

Vincent came, his hands trembling, clutching John as if he were a lifeline.

John held Vincent’s legs steady. Only when Vincent’s gasps turned to purrs did he let the cock slip from his mouth.

Vincent’s eyes were full of an emotion John didn’t want to think about.

John carefully rolled off the condom and set the soggy rubber on the cement floor. He opened his arms as Vincent slid down into them.

Vincent rested his forehead on John’s shoulder. “That was incredible. You’re incredible.”

John stroked the soft curls and wondered about the tightness in his chest.

They stayed on the floor, holding each other. He closed his eyes as Vincent rubbed small circles on his back, strangely satisfied though he hadn’t come himself. He’d never pleasured a man without getting something in return. And this…this hugging was also nice.

Vincent was the first to pull away. “The cupcakes?”

“Oh shit. Julie will kill me if I’m late.”

Reluctantly John rose to leave. He bent down and kissed Vincent before tucking in his shirt. At the glimpse of Vincent pulling up his briefs and pants, a deep ache spread in his balls. He pulled at his crotch, and then remembered why he’d come in the first place.

Sex between them was great but it didn’t change the fact he had his doubts about the man.

Careful to modulate his voice, he kept it casual. “By the way, how did you know I was thinking of taking a sailing vacation? I didn’t tell anyone.”

Vincent’s eyes darted away, and the reaction torpedoed John’s heart. Vincent finally looked at him, but his tight smile revealed all John needed to know.

“You must have mentioned it when we had dinner.”

“No, I’m sure I didn’t.”

Vincent pitched the condom in the trashcan. “Are you accusing me of lying?”

“I never mentioned sailing over dinner.”

“You drank almost a bottle of wine.”

“I would remember if I told you. No matter how soused.”

Vincent’s eyes flashed. John scowled in return. Every one of his instincts went on red alert. Vincent was flat out lying. Jesus. That hurt, more than he’d ever imagined.

It felt like a slap in the face.

Vincent started cleaning the counter. He’d be damned if he let Vincent ignore him. John grabbed the rag and flung it across the room. “Look at me, you goddamn liar. How did you get into my locked drawer? Something’s not right about you.”

Vincent clutched his apron, his eyes pained, all desire wiped out. “You still don’t trust me.”

“Trust? For God’s sakes, I tried. You don’t know how much I gave to you just now.” Going from a blissful state to utter disappointment left John reeling in anger. “Fuck it. Don’t tell me. Keep your goddamn secrets but don’t expect anything from me.”

He hurried to his jeep needing to get the hell out of the bakery. Driving on auto-pilot, he sped all the way to Julie’s house. He was done. Done with ever thinking about having a relationship with a man. Done with Vincent, the lying bastard.

Because it didn’t get past John that Vincent never denied lying to him. Not once.

*

Vince dragged a weary hand over his stubbly jaw. He hadn’t shaved in two days. Too much of his time had been spent heaping recriminations onto his head for being idiot enough to fall for a repressed cop. Anyone with half a brain would have seen this ten-car pile-up coming from a mile away.

John wanted the impossible. He wanted to delve into his past. He wanted to unlock the door to all Vince’s secrets. He wanted information, information he wasn’t allowed to share with any human.

The goddamned
Jurisdictio
with their god complex had tied his hand. If he told John about his history and the
J
found out, John would be in danger. And there wasn’t a fucking thing Vince could do about it. Ace cop or not, John would die.

The incipient headache that had been tapping behind his eyes turned into relentless pounding, a combination of stress and not feeding. Somehow, he hadn’t wanted to do something so intimate with Angelo anymore, almost like it would be a betrayal of John.

Dio,
was he fucked up or what? He’d never be able to suck John’s blood.

His eyes skittered over the kitchen as if the baking trays could give him answers. That’s when he spotted the box of cupcakes.

Damn, damn, damn.

He couldn’t let those kids down. He shuffled through the copy of receipts and called Julie’s number.

“Hello?”

“Julie? This is Vince from the bakery. I talked to John and he’s tied up with something. So I’ll drop the cupcakes off in about twenty minutes.”

“That brother of mine! Are you sure? I can send my husband over to pick them up.”

Hurt still wrestled with regret in Vince’s mind. The need to lash out at John, even in a petty way crept over him. “No problem. I’ll bring them over.”

Let’s see how Mr. Big-shot Detective handled it when he showed up at the party.

Chapter Twelve

John smelled the BBQ as he strode into Julie’s backyard. Before he could make it through the kitchen, his sister appeared out of nowhere and dragged him into the pantry. She raised her brows and smiled. He skidded to a halt. Did it show?

He brought his hand to his nose and sniffed, and his stomach turned. Vincent’s smell was all over him. Their angry words echoed in his ears. Every time he tried to reconcile what had happened at the bakery it got all confused in his head. No way could he have a relationship with a man. Two bullheaded males trying to make it work was an insane idea. And when did he go from fucking to having a relationship? Bottom line, Vincent had blatantly lied to him. He wasn’t stupid. He knew the signs.

Julie’s voice rang out. “Where are the cupcakes?”

Oh fuck!

Julie shifted her weight but remained blocking his escape route. “Well…”

“Ah, Jule, I had paperwork to finish. I stopped by first to let you know I’m going to be late with the cupcakes. Going there now.”

Julie laughed and held up her cell phone. “Vince already called. He said he talked with you and agreed to drop them by. You’re off the hook.” She stepped aside to let him through, her eyes twinkling. “Why the lie, brother of mine?”

What the fuck? She had called him Vince, as if they were old friends.

Just then, Coco skidded to a halt beside him and began circling his ankles barking wildly. Thank God. He was saved from answering his sister’s question.

He scooped the fur ball into his arms and laughed as it licked his face, edging out the room. It was best to ignore his sister when she got like this.

As soon as he strode into the yard, he was ambushed by Allie. He traded the terrier for his niece, picking her up, all blue frills and lace, and she squealed as he tossed her gently in the air and caught her in his arms.

“How’s my favorite princess?”

“Where tuptakes?” she demanded.

“You women are all alike.” He kissed her nose and set her on the grass, straightening her tiara. She giggled and ran back to where the boys were playing a game of rough and tumble tag.

As he made his way to his parents seated on wicker chairs under the shade of the carob tree, he snagged a carrot off the relish tray. Julie’s house had a good-sized backyard. A waterfall poured into a large kidney shaped pool. A long table piled high with chips, relish trays, salsa, and punch, while the tablecloth bordered in baseballs and footballs kept the sports motif alive. Julie’s husband stood behind the BBQ flipping hot dogs and burgers. He raised his spatula in greeting. A quiet man, but John appreciated his calm manner amongst the whirlwind of Julie and the kids. Before he sat, he kissed his mom on the cheek and shook his dad’s hand.

“Hello, son. Read in the paper you closed the case.”

He smiled at his dad. Relatives always commented how he was a spitting image of his father. He didn’t think too much about his looks, but his dad had aged well, kept in shape, so he didn’t mind the comparison.

“It was an easy one this time. It’s usually the spouse,” he winked at his mom and tried to make himself comfortable on one of the folding chairs.

His mom chuckled as she leaned toward his dad, brushing back a lock of hair obscuring her eyes. “If I was to murder your dad, believe me, it’d be a blunt object.” She leaned toward him and lowered her voice. “I thought you might bring your Italian girlfriend?”

“Jesus, Mom, we just met. I’m not ready for her to meet the family quite yet.” Oh God, how true that was, yet Vincent would be walking in any moment, and he couldn’t stop the fluttering in his stomach.

John talked with his parents about the kids and Mark and caught up on family gossip. John tried not to think about Vincent coming by. Maybe he would be smart enough to drop off the box and then leave. Yeah, right, like he cared about propriety.

He glanced around for Julie but she must have disappeared in the house.

As he turned his head, he caught a glimpse of a shadow in the doorway. Vincent stood there, dark and brooding, holding a large pink box. John’s chest suddenly tightened. God, even with the fury burning a hole in his gut, he still thought the man beautiful.

John’s mom placed her hand on her husband’s thigh. “Oh, that must be Vincent. Julie said he was going to deliver the cupcakes. He’s such a handsome man.”

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