The Intersection of Purgatory and Paradise (27 page)

“When we closed on the house. Bring it in. I’ve already got a picture hanger up in the perfect spot.”

“Really?”

“Yes!” Christopher took the picture from Doug and hurried into the foyer. On the wall to the right, well away from the doorstop, Christopher had placed a small brass hook. He set the picture carefully in place, adjusted it so it was level, and stood back.

“That’s the perfect place?” Doug asked.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Ray stopped in front of them and stared at the photo. Then he laughed. “That’s perfect!”

“How is that perfect?” Doug asked again.

“Because it’s accurate,” Ray said, smirking. “Paradise is that way,” he said, pointing toward the inside of the house. “Purgatory is out there.” He gestured out the front door.

Doug stared at the photo and grinned. “I guess you’re right.”

Ray and Elliot left at eight that night, when the two-bedroom cottage Christopher and Doug had found a few blocks from the beach was filled with half-unpacked boxes. Christopher didn’t want to waste time putting more stuff away now that they were finally alone in their new home.

He found Doug in their bedroom, pulling clothes out of an enormous wardrobe box. “Can you believe this?” he asked, nodding toward the large french doors leading to the balcony. Between the doors and four different wall-sized windows, they had an unobstructed view of the San Diego coastline. Christopher couldn’t wait to pick out chairs to put on the balcony outside.

“Might as well get used to it,” Doug said, hanging up one of Christopher’s suits.

Christopher gestured to the open sea. “I could definitely get used to this. Logically, I always knew people lived in places like this. But I never thought I’d be one of them.” He shook his head. He wasn’t even sure what he was trying to say. “I never had a home at all. I never imagined having a house where you could see the ocean. It’s….”

Doug abandoned the half-empty wardrobe box and joined him by the door to the balcony. “It’s our home now,” he said, pulling Christopher against him.

“It’s your home, Doug. You paid for it.”

“Your name’s on the deed, right next to mine.”

“I wish you hadn’t done that,” Christopher said for what felt like the hundredth time.

“The deed’s been filed. It’s too late to change it, so you need to get over it.” Doug stared at him seriously.

Christopher pressed his lips against Doug’s pulse point, then kissed and licked his way down to Doug’s shoulder blade. “Can we argue about it tomorrow?” he asked, tugging at Doug’s belt.

Doug pulled Christopher’s T-shirt up over his head and began to undo his pants. “We don’t have a bed yet,” he pointed out.

They’d rolled out sleeping bags and camping mats on the floor, but they weren’t the most comfortable things.

“We could go to a hotel,” Christopher said.

Doug stroked Christopher’s cock through the thin fabric of his boxers, making him hard in seconds. “Not a chance. It’s our first night in
our
home. We’ll just have to figure it out.”

Doug tugged Christopher’s head down and kissed him hard, driving his tongue inside Christopher’s mouth. Christopher leaned to the side so Doug could slide his tongue deeper. He fumbled Doug’s belt open and unbuttoned his pants, sliding them down.

They tumbled onto the pile of sleeping bags, Doug attacking his lips and tongue as they fell. Christopher let Doug roll on top of him, savoring the solid heat and comfortable pressure of his body. Doug drew out their kiss, lapping at his tongue and then his lips before moving over his chin and down his neck. When he reached Christopher’s collarbone, he paused long enough to yank his shirt off.

Doug wrapped his fingers around Christopher’s cock and stroked him slowly, rubbing the pad of his thumb around the tip before sliding his fingers down his shaft.

“I want you to say it,” Doug said, cupping his sac.

Christopher squirmed, grinding against Doug’s hip and thigh, trying to plaster himself against Doug. “I want you.”

“Not quite,” Doug whispered. Doug circled his entrance with a single, dry finger, teasing him.

“I love you.”

Doug grinned down at him. He reached across Christopher to the canvas travel kit where he’d tucked away a small tube of lube. He squirted a bit on his fingers and reached down again, rubbing slow, wet circles around his sphincter. Christopher pushed against Doug’s hand, dropping his legs wide. Doug kept playing with him, tugging on his sac and teasing his entrance.

“What am I supposed to say?” he asked, distracted by the way his balls rolled in Doug’s palm.

Doug paused and smirked. “
Our
bedroom. Our house. Our home. If you want to change the way you think about something, you start by changing the way you talk about it.”

“I….” Christopher tried to argue, tried to turn it into a joke, but Doug worked a finger inside him and ran his other hand up the length of Christopher’s cock again. He found Christopher’s prostate with practiced ease, stroking it over and over, gently enough to drive Christopher insane. “Seriously? You want to make a big deal about this now?” He laughed.

“I do. I’ll sign it all over to you if that’ll make it easier.”

Christopher shook his head quickly, trying to understand. “No. It’s your money. It’s yours.”

“Nope. I can’t imagine what not having a home was like for you. Not having a place where you could be safe and comfortable and just be you. Not having someone to come home to. I don’t know how it felt. And I think I get why you’re hesitant. Why get attached to someplace if you’re not sure how long you’re going to be there, right?”

Christopher groaned and pressed down against his finger. Doug kept up the maddening, gentle pressure.

“I get that it’s easier not to bother opening yourself up to that pain again. But I’ll go through whatever hell I’ve got to face to make sure you never have to feel it again. Whatever I’ve got to do to turn this into forever, I’ll do,” Doug promised. “We can make this our paradise—but it’s got to be together.”

Christopher felt a lump in his throat as he tried to find anything he could offer, anything he could say, that could compare to what Doug had done for him.

Doug stopped moving inside him. He leaned over Christopher and touched his lips to the corner of Christopher’s eye, kissing away a tear Christopher would never let himself shed.

“I love you,” Christopher whispered. “You’ve given up so much for me, done so much for me. I know I can never do anything like this… I can’t….” He nodded around the room, trying to encompass the whole house.

“After everything you put up with over this last year? Just to be with me?” Doug pulled him up for a quick kiss. “Trust me, Christopher, love will do.”

Christopher felt his heart swell. “Our house,” he said, trying the words out. Doug eased another finger inside him, rubbing his prostate harder. “Our bedroom.” Doug stroked his cock fast, slipping his fingers out and lining himself up. Christopher kept his breathing shallow and controlled, trying not to come all over Doug’s hand. He rocked into Christopher, easing inside of him inch by inch until he was fully sheathed. Christopher pressed back as hard as he could, urging Doug to fill him.

Doug hooked his hands under Christopher’s knees and pushed his legs back. He pumped his hips quickly, shifting in and out of Christopher’s body at a furious pace. Christopher closed his fists around the nylon sleeping bag to keep from sliding as Doug moved inside him. The sound of their bodies slapping together mingled with Doug’s panting breath echoing around the almost empty bedroom. Christopher didn’t need to urge him on. Doug knew exactly how he liked it, hard and so fast even his constantly spinning brain had to shut down under the surge of sensation shooting through him. Doug never let him think, never let him doubt or wonder, just pounded into him until orgasm cast him into blissful oblivion.

He came hard, his cock standing upright as he squirted over his stomach. As if Doug had been waiting for him, he drove in one last time, burying himself deep inside Christopher’s body, where he came with a shudder.

He watched in awe as Doug rode out the aftershocks, quivering as he bent forward over Christopher’s chest. “Damn, I love making you do that.”

“Hmm?”

“Making you look like you’ve just been on a long run,” Doug explained.

Christopher wrapped his arms around Doug’s shoulders and pulled him close, the sweat on their bodies sticking them together. “So much better than running,” he whispered. “When I run everything stops and makes sense, but it’s empty. When I’m with you, my head stands still and it’s….”

Doug dropped his head onto Christopher’s shoulder, his spent cock softening inside Christopher. He shifted his hips enough to move inside him, then kissed his collarbone. “Not empty?”

Christopher held him tight, trying to find the right word. “Like home. Not a house or a bedroom. It’s you. You’re my home.”

E
VEN
THOUGH
it wasn’t quite seven in the morning, he was already bouncing with the sheer excitement of being able to get back to working active cases again.

“Morning!” Sanchez called as she rushed past him to her desk. “I never thought I’d see the day when Delgado would get to work before you. Did your boyfriend keep you up all night?” she teased.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“So that’s a yes?” She giggled. “Even though he’s cute, I kind of feel sorry for you. You’re stuck with the most anal, passive-aggressive partner in the department, and you’re dating someone from Internal Affairs. Even if he keeps you up all night, I’m not sure it’d be worth it.”

“He’s not Internal Affairs yet,” Christopher insisted. “Not for another month.”

“Better get any crazy antics out of your system now, then.”

“Doug’s a lot more understanding than Delgado.”

There was a cup of coffee and a newspaper on his desk, and he paused at the sight of them. For all his dedication, Delgado never beat him into the office in the morning. He almost always came bearing coffee because he knew it helped Christopher focus, but he was probably still home in bed. Ray’s desk, aside from the usual clutter of gadget chargers and case files, looked untouched.

“Speaking of Delgado, was he here?” Christopher asked.

“I saw him when I got here about twenty minutes ago. He was wide awake and dressed to kill.”

“Huh?”

“He had on a new suit. A really nice one. I think being domesticated has been good for him, because I’ve never seen him look so good.” Sanchez seemed to hear her own words, and her eyes went wide. “Do not tell him I said that,” she snapped.

“I won’t, I won’t,” Christopher promised. He glanced at his watch again and double-checked the time. It was definitely still before seven o’clock.

He set his coffee down on the desk and carefully tested his chair. He sat down and stared at the paper cup. It was still warm, and it had his name on it. His first name. Ray never used his first name. He pried off the lid and swished the creamy coffee around. It smelled like chocolate, and it looked harmless.

He unfolded the newspaper beside it, noting the crumpled corners and the streaks of black and reddish brown along the edges. “The
Miami Herald
?” He read the unfamiliar logo out loud. He scanned the front page, focusing on a prominent article halfway down that began with the headline “Man Found Dead in Fort Lauderdale.” Miami police, the article said, were investigating the death of forty-year-old Leon Morales, who was shot and killed in his townhouse. Police had no suspects, but drugs and drug paraphernalia were found at the scene.

“Oh crap,” he whispered.

Christopher flicked up the corner of the paper to check the date. The article was only five days old. He leaned back in his chair, staring between the article and the coffee cup. Beneath his name, the words “Welcome Home” were scribbled in black marker.

A Casual Weekend Thing

Least Likely Partnership: Book One

By A.J. Thomas

Doug Heavy Runner left the life of an openly gay Miami police officer and returned to his home on the Salish-Kootenai Indian Reservation when his mother got sick. In the two years since she passed, he’s carved out an empty life as a small-town deputy, relying on out-of-town one-night stands to keep him sane. Then he meets Detective Christopher Hayes, and they share a wild night so incredible Doug breaks his own rule and allows a one-night stand to grow into a weekend of amazing sex.