Slow Burn (MM) (17 page)

He dug his fingers into the muscle of Brody’s thighs, getting high on the taste of the freshly washed skin. He strained farther, sliding the tip of his tongue back and grazing the puckered opening. The response was instantaneous. Brody’s groan lowered an entire octave and his hands that had been threading through Zack’s hair dropped to the back of Zack’s neck, pinning him there.

Damn. Like he’d leave?

But if he was going to properly show Brody exactly how good it could be, he needed better access. Zack sat back on his knees, giving Brody’s cock one more good-bye suck before patting him on the thighs.

“Okay. Up. Turn around.”

Brody nodded, got up, and turned to lean against the shower wall, hands braced above the seat, basically presenting his ass to Zack like it was the world’s best gift. And in Zack’s opinion, it was.

He’d fantasized long enough about this ass, and now it felt like he had the VIP access pass to the best place on earth. He kneaded the cheeks, and with each rub, he slowly parted them, revealing Brody with each circle.

Zack leaned up and pressed a sucking kiss to the top of the crack. Brody shifted on his feet but remained otherwise still. Zack sucked lower, pressing his tongue between the cheeks, dragging down a fraction before pulling back. The next time Zack sucked at Brody’s skin, he parted the cheeks and gently ran the tip of his tongue over the opening.

“Fuck,
Zack
.” The voice was low and strained. Brody’s legs wobbled, hands attempting to find purchase on the cool tiles.

Zack returned his tongue and pressed against Brody’s opening, feeling it twitch. He gave it a few little licks before settling in and stroking his tongue over Brody’s hole, circling it, giving little presses to feel it loosen, relax under his tongue.

That was when the occasional curse from Brody changed to full-out groans. Deep, low, and desperate. Brody pushed back with his hands, pressing his ass closer to Zack’s face. Each pass had Brody shifting on his feet, as if debating between remaining upright or getting closer to Zack’s mouth.

“Touch yourself,” Zack whispered against his skin. Brody shifted to lean on one hand, jerking himself off like he’d forgotten he could.

The noises Brody made before were quiet in comparison to the groans he made with every firmer press of Zack’s tongue. When Zack felt it give enough that he could push the tip farther inside, Brody shuddered against him. Stuttering in jerking off and almost losing rhythm.

“Fuck, Zack.” His moans were a plea. The sweetest pleas Zack had ever heard. “I’m… I’m gonna—”

Zack raised his hand, bringing a finger to breach Brody, the tip sliding in next to his tongue. Sliding out and gathering spit, and slowly pushing in. A little bit more with each lick, until Zack could curl down and—

“Oh. Fuuuuuuuck.” Brody jolted as Zack hit what he was after. “Oh fuck, Zack. Zack. Just… Do that again.”

Zack smiled against his skin and slowly pressed again, this time licking around the rim, around his finger, as he continued to stroke inside.

Brody came with a shudder and a long moan. Body jerking with each pull, curled in on himself as he splashed hot and wet against the tiles. When the trembling stopped and Brody’s legs almost gave way, Zack moved to turn Brody so he could rest against the seat again.

He looked thoroughly debauched, like Zack had fucked him six ways from Sunday. A very,
very
good look and enough to help Zack come. Zack stood up, running his face through the shower, wiping at his mouth and bending to take Brody’s. He did his best to straddle Brody’s lap and grabbed at his straining cock, pulling hard and quick. He wasn’t going to last long, not with the vision of what they’d just done still burning bright in his mind.

Zack groaned against Brody’s mouth, which seemed to pull Brody out of his postorgasm haze. Strong hands flew to Zack’s neck to pull his mouth closer and harder against him, the other batting Zack’s hand away to jerk him off. Quick and brutal and with Brody clinging to his mouth, murmuring encouragements to come. Zack let go and pulsed over Brody’s hand, breathing hard into his mouth.

After a few beats, while they attempted to regain their breath, Zack chuckled into Brody’s hair.

“Good God, I’m ordering myself two pizzas now. Carbs be damned.”

Brody’s response was to wrap his arms over Zack’s hips and hold him tight. “Mmmm. Two. Each.”

Chapter Thirteen

Brody breathed in the humid, salty, marsh stink of downtown Charleston’s air as he and Lamont stepped out onto the sidewalk after lunch. “I’m just glad to be outside the office.”

“Making you crazy?”

“Bat shit.”

“It’s good to be out with you, man. Walking the streets. It’s like old times.”

Brody smirked. “Old times? I haven’t been gone that long.”

Lamont scrubbed a hand over his head. “A lot can happen in a couple of months.”

Hell yeah, it could. His mind drifted back to the other day. Hanging out with Zack and then in the shower. How it felt, what it made him feel
and
think. Damn. To think a couple of months ago he hadn’t even known Zack. Now…

He shook it off. It wasn’t the time or place to think about Zack. “So what’s new with the case, ’Mont? What do we know?”

“Not a lot more.” Lamont strolled along beside him as they headed down King Street through what used to be a bad area, but thanks to its proximity to the university, it’d been revitalized—which was code for small, overpriced studio apartments for the young, wealthy, and childless, and lots of trendy eateries.

“The media is having a field day with it at this point, as I’m sure you’ve seen. Two murders right downtown in one summer and Captain looks like he’s going to pop a vein any day now. The Strangler is escalating, and people are starting to freak out. The shooting the other night down off Meeting?”

“Yeah.”

“A grad student packing a handgun. Some guy runs up to tell her she left her headlights on, and she pops him.”

Brody shook his head.

“Luckily she wasn’t a good shot. Got his arm, but he’ll live.”

“Unlike Amber.”

Lamont slowed his steps and looked around. “Let’s hang a left here and keep walking. I need the exercise. Felicia’s on my ass about losing weight.”

Brody chuckled and followed his partner. Lamont was a massive guy, but he wasn’t what you’d call fat. Felicia just preferred the Lamont from his college football days.

“You could start running with me,” Brody offered without thinking. And what? Run with him and his gay lover? Sure, Lamont would be jumping at that opportunity.

“What, like that half-marathon bullshit? Hell, no. Unless there’s a grizzly bear or a zombie on my ass, I’m not running farther than a few blocks and only then if I’m chasing a perp. Here, let’s go this way.”

“So the latest girl, Amber.” Brody got back on topic and away from his hasty invite. “She have a boyfriend? We looking at him?” He added a snort.

“Nah. No boyfriend. And why do you do that to yourself? You memorize all their names so they can haunt you? You gotta stop that.”

“I can’t,” Brody confessed. It was a damn big confession coming from him, but this was Lamont. It was okay. “You know I can’t. Not with this case.”

Lamont nodded. “Yeah. I know. Anyway… Captain is off of that boyfriend angle for now. I just don’t get it. Why didn’t any of them fight their attacker? This last vic —sorry, Amber—was on the girls’ track team. She looked strong, fast. I know we said they must know the assailant, but that doesn’t fit. How sneaky a motherfucker do you have to be to move in so fast they don’t even fight?”

“Very,” Brody answered as they hung a right.

When they reached the intersection of Calhoun Street, he knew where they were going, but he didn’t say a word.

“What about Griggs, what’s he think?” he asked instead.

“Not a damn thing that makes sense. I ditch him for lunch, and he doesn’t even clue in to that. It’s like he doesn’t know I don’t like his ass.” Lamont shook his head. “How he made detective, much less in Homicide, I’ll never know.”

Brody snorted a laugh. “Yeah, you do. He’s the chief’s nephew by marriage.”

“The hell you say!”

“You didn’t know?”

“No. Sonuva… Well, that explains everything.”

“Don’t it? Keep looking; keep asking. You know somebody saw something. They had to.”

“Yeah, a bunch of overprivileged, drunk college kids like last time. They’re proving about as likely to come forward as someone in the projects. Swear I just want to shake the shit out of them every time they start talking.”

“Try it. I’ve seen you use more questionable methods.”

Lamont’s booming laugh filled the street. “Yeah, on pimps and dealers maybe. Can’t you see me shoving some Richie Rich kid nose first against the wall, barking at him to start talking? Mommy and Daddy would be in front of the captain so fast it’d cause a hurricane.”

Brody chuckled too, because it was true.

They got closer to the block where the last victim was found, and Brody looked over at Lamont, waiting for it.

“I guess you know where I’m bringing you,” Lamont said, slowing as they neared the courtyard of the rental home. Yellow tape still draped the wrought iron fence.

“I knew as soon as we left Meeting Street.”

“Look, I want you to check the scene with me, but…there’s…there’s a caveat. I’ve paced around here, and now I need your eyes. Griggs ain’t got shit on you. We’re a good team because we see things differently. I want the job done, and I do my best work with you.”

“As do I.”

Lamont tilted his head to the side. “I can’t believe you finally acknowledged that shit. You feeling okay?” He reached out like he was going to feel Brody’s forehead for a fever.

“Get the fuck out of here and get to the point. There’s a caveat. What is it?”

His partner widened his stance, put one hand on his hip; the other he used to scrub across his shaved head. This was not a good sign.

“I didn’t want to say anything, but…”

“Lamont,” Brody growled. “But what?”

“Captain said he doesn’t want you anywhere near this case right now.”

“
What?”

“He said we’re going to catch the asshole, but he wants fresh eyes on it. Specifically
not yours
.”

“What the hell?”

“I don’t even know. Probably political bullshit, but he wants no chance of any attorney being able to say a cop who was off duty was messing in it.”

“I’m not off duty.”

“Light duty, whatever. They don’t care. You’re not officially on the case anymore, so you can’t officially say shit. I’m not even supposed to be telling you this, but like I’m not going to? They can kiss my black ass. You’re welcome to look around; hell, go through my files till you can’t get enough. I
want
you to, but keep it quiet, and if you find something, it’s got to go through me. Not only does Captain Hill not want to hear it from anyone but me and Griggs, but if he finds out I’m giving you guided tours, it’s my ass in a sling too.”

Brody leaned back against a brick building probably as old as the union, and crossed his arms. “Fucking-A.”

“Pretty much.”

He looked up and down the sidewalk, empty of any tourists and very few cars, and all he could see was a college girl, walking home alone on a Thursday night, with no idea it’d be her last. A girl who should’ve been safe. A girl who maybe
would’ve
been safe if he’d been on the case the last two months.

Guilt gnawed at the edge of his mind. This was his case. It would always be his case. From when he was a rookie so new he squeaked, right up until now. These girls were his responsibility.

“Captain does realize I’m back next week, right?” he asked. “I take my PT testing in a few days. What the fuck?”

Lamont shrugged. “I’m just telling you what he said, not saying I agree with him.”

“Fuck them, then.” He shoved off the building. He wasn’t going to not work this case because Captain Hill was playing favorites. “I’ll tell you what I see, what I think.”

Lamont just stared at him. “And you’ll go hands-off on what you find, right? You can’t be officially active in this case anyway. You were never here with me.”

Brody stared at his partner. If it was what he had to say to keep Lamont in the clear, he’d live with it. “Sure. I won’t do a damn thing but tell you and then sit on my hands. Besides, I
might
have come by here of my own free will while on light duty.”

Lamont grinned his perfect, bright, you’re-so-full-of-shit smile.

Brody shrugged, the best he could do to reassure Lamont he’d play politics. “I don’t want us finding another girl next month, so yeah, I’ll play by the rules and be a good boy.”

His partner laughed and reached for the yellow tape to lift it up. “And hell will surely freeze over. C’mon. Let’s look around.”

* * * *

Brody slid farther down in the booth, the worn leather squeaking enough that one of the bar patrons turned to look. He fought the urge to flip the guy off.

But it wasn’t that poor throwback hippy’s fault he’d had a shit day.

Investigating another dead girl, and the game had definitely changed. The Strangler never struck this close together. Two within three months. There could be another next month if they didn’t find the fucker,
and
the higher-ups didn’t want him involved.

Fuck that.

The Strangler. It’d been his focus all day and, as always, never failed to leave him frayed at the edges. It had to be someone the girls knew or someone damn stealthy and strong. It didn’t point to a reckless youth or young man looking to get his rocks off by exposing women to look like they’d been raped. That sort of motivation didn’t lend itself to patience and stealth. So perhaps it was a guy they all knew who was strong enough to subdue them immediately. To the point none of the victims even had DNA under their nails from trying to claw at the attacker.

“Shit,” Brody growled, rubbing at his tired eyes before downing the rest of his whiskey. He held up his finger so the waitress would bring him another. Self-medicating. It was better than popping pills, and he didn’t drink often. Which was more than most cops could say.