Without a Net (34 page)

“If every cop was as ‘average’ as you, the police force would be a hell of a lot more effective than it is. You don’t boast, but I admire your dedication to the law and to the job, and I loved every second we spent together, both personally and professionally.”

The knot around Ollie’s heart loosened.

“Knowing you thought I didn’t appreciate you makes me want to kick my own ass,” Travis said wryly. “I don’t have a lot of patience for fools, and clearly I was one. That has nothing to do with you or with how much I enjoyed everything we did.”

“Okay,” Ollie said slowly. Whatever Travis had come for, he still hadn’t said what he needed to. Ollie just wasn’t sure what else there was to say. If Travis wanted to have a relationship, Ollie wasn’t opposed. At least this time he knew up front that he was dating a bad-tempered boar who assumed he was responsible for every fucked-up thing that happened. It wasn’t the worst personality trait in a man.

Travis picked at something on his pants before he asked, “So, any jobs lined up?”

“Not right now.”

“Is the Greyson settlement enough for you to retire on?”

Ollie snorted. “If I liked eating cheap noodles and dressing in rags for the rest of my life, sure. It wasn’t riches, and a lot of it went into this house. Fixing it up gave me something to focus on during the past couple of months.” Ollie was proud of what he’d done around the place, and the psychiatrist had approved of Ollie’s desire to take control. He’d called it a good sign. Ollie thought it was proof that he didn’t want to be bored.

“Would you consider taking a job at the FBI?” Travis asked.

“Would I…” Ollie blew out a breath and mentally rewound that bit of conversation. “Okay, I didn’t see that coming. Why are you asking me instead of Sewell doing the asking?”

“Because I was hoping you’d want to be my partner.”

Relief flooded Ollie so strongly he was glad he could cling to the chair. Travis hadn’t thought him weak or helpless. In therapy, that was the one fear Ollie had struggled with. “You want us to be partners?” he asked carefully. It was like this was too close to his dreams for him to trust the reality of it.

“You’re a damn good cop. Even in the FBI, there aren’t a lot of agents willing to take the risks you did, or who could stay focused on the job. I take my responsibilities seriously, and I respect you as a cop who does the same. When you came to the office, I think I realized I was underestimating you. I don’t think I’m the first to miss how much strength you have under that nice exterior.”

“I’m polite in public, not nice,” Ollie said. Of anyone, Travis should know that.

“Will you interview for the position?” Travis asked.

“What about us, I mean, personally? Sexually?” Ollie had too much hope in his soul, and he wasn’t sure he should. Travis had hurt him. Badly.

Travis rubbed a hand over his face. “I can control myself. I’m not going to push things because I know I screwed that up, and I accept it. But that doesn’t change the fact that I think you’d be one hell of an FBI agent.”

Ollie stared at Travis and tried to figure out how the man had gone from trying to patch the damage to their relationship to accepting it was over. He hadn’t said it in some hopeful or manipulative tone either. There was no hint he wanted Ollie to take the guilt and self-loathing and argue with him. Nope, Travis assumed he didn’t get forgiven. Ollie had to take a second to collect his thoughts about that. “You’re an idiot,” he finally declared.

Travis’s gaze snapped up to him.

“What if I want us to have a sexual relationship? What if I trust you, not only as a partner at work, but as a partner in bed, and as a shade sub, that trust is the most important thing to me in any relationship? What then?”

“You never stop surprising me.” Travis frowned. “I screwed up. I didn’t mean to, but I did, and I hurt you more than I had any right to. I’m not sure that’s a good basis for a relationship.”

“Once more for the deaf man who can’t process simple statements. Don’t tell me how I feel,” Ollie said. “You did fuck up, but my biggest fear was that you didn’t trust me. If you need to protect me because you think I’m incapable of doing my job, then I can’t deal with you. But you’re asking me to be your partner, which suggests that’s not true.”

“Hell, no. I haven’t worked with anyone I trust as much. Two hours after that hell with Greyson in the garage, you kept your head during a firefight. Trust me, I’m not going to ever underestimate your skills as a cop.”

“And my skills in bed?” Ollie asked.

The air seemed to go out of Travis. For a time, silence reigned. “Honestly, you’re so damn good it scares me. I want to bend you over the closest piece of furniture and pound into you until you completely submit, and I’m not sure that’s the healthiest reaction.”

That sounded pretty good to Ollie. “Why not?”

“Christ. I came here to ask you to be my partner, not to fuck you raw.”

“Are there any agency rules that make those two mutually exclusive?”

“Well, no.” Travis hesitated before he added the next part. “There would be if I were your supervisor, but surprisingly enough Sewell is assigning you to another agent for the six-month supervised probation before she’s letting you partner with me. I think she assumes you’ll quit if you have to work for me instead of partnering with me. Given one or two of my earlier experiences with interns, she might even have some evidence on her side.”

“She assumes we’ll have sex,” Ollie said. Sewell didn’t strike him as an oblivious woman.

Travis ran his fingers through his hair. “Maybe. But I don’t like to let my dynamic interfere with my work.”

“Why do you think it would interfere?”

Travis exploded up off the couch. “Because I want to dominate you, and I don’t know how to turn that off when we leave the bedroom.”

“And how does us having sex change any of that?”

“Because I’ll try to dominate you at work where it’s not appropriate.”

Ollie crossed his arms. “As opposed to what you do now? Kelleher would rather spork his own eyes out than partner with you because you’re already a dominant son of a bitch, and from what I hear, you got a two-day suspension for emotionally terrorizing some probie. I’m pretty sure you dominate people you haven’t taken to bed. At least you know I appreciate the personality trait, and trust me, if you push too hard, I can push back.”

“Really?” Travis stalked forward, his body language transformed into something primitive and dangerous. Sweat broke out along Ollie’s spine, but he held his ground as Travis moved closer. He stopped when they were an inch apart, and leaned in toward Ollie’s neck. “Are you sure you can push back?” he asked in a deadly soft tone that swept across Ollie’s sweat-damp skin. “Are you that sure of yourself?”

“At work, hell, yes,” Ollie said. His voice sounded strained, but he kept the volume up. “I kept my head, and I was the one who killed Jackson.”

“Not the same thing.”

Ollie shoved at Travis’s chest and then took a step back himself. “I’m a cop. If I take this job, I’ll be a fed. I don’t take that lightly, and I sure as hell don’t fuck up my professional work because of what I like in bed. So in the bedroom, I’m more than willing to get tied down, but as your partner, I will still call you on your shit.”

The sexual energy drained from Travis’s posture in a second. “You can’t promise that.”

“And you can’t promise that you’ll keep me as a partner any longer than you kept Kelleher or Falkov.”

Travis retreated several steps. “I’m not used to partners knowing my dysfunction from day one.”

Ollie shrugged. “Tough. Besides, you know my issues too. I like being tied down more than I thought, and quite frankly, I have a kink for partners who don’t ask first. It’s a dangerous damn combination, but as long as I stick to partners I trust, I’m willing to take the risk.”

Travis gave him a weary look. “I’m not sure you should trust me.”

“Hey, I don’t trust my judgment at all, but Buck and Allemande and Milan and even Sewell all seem to think you’re a good guy. They all think you’re annoying, but they believe you’re moral.”

Travis walked toward the windows on the other side of the room. “This is dangerous.”

“Most emotions are. As a cop, I know this. Domestic disputes, parents turning into raging monsters when some asshole targets their kids online, stalking cases—they’re all some variation on emotions going very, very wrong.” Ollie was shy about using the word “love,” but he hoped Travis heard what he was saying.

“As a species, we’d be better off without strong emotions,” Travis said this to the window, his voice flat. Now that sounded more like Milan than Travis. Ollie hesitated before wading into those waters, but if he and Travis wanted a chance at a real relationship, they couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room.

“Not even Milan could manage to do that, and I think he tried.”

“Not hard enough. His obsession nearly got you killed.”

“He loves his sub. And I’m a cop. I’m supposed to put my life on the line for civilians.”

There was a
thunk
as Travis hit his head on the window glass and then let it rest there. “I could fuck this up,” he warned.

“You’re giving yourself too much credit. If we fuck this up, it’s a joint effort,” Ollie said firmly. It was time Travis stopped carrying everything himself and admitted they were in this together. For better or worse, for screaming matches that led to nasty breakups or happy, blissful years of whippings and bondage, this was something they both had to take responsibility for. Ollie willed Travis to see that, because if Travis couldn’t let him take equal responsibility, then Ollie couldn’t trust him to hold the power in the relationship.

The air was heavy with the decision, but Ollie bit his tongue and waited.

Chapter Thirty

After long minutes, Travis turned to look at Ollie. “There will be days when I go too damn far. There will be days when I emotionally destroy some fresh-faced college kid, and I can’t pull back. It’s not in my nature, and when I try—and I have tried—I end up resenting the hell out of my partners and hating myself. That’s true at work and in bed.”

“Then be yourself. I won’t always agree with you at work, but I won’t resent you for being yourself.” Ollie saw the doubt in Travis’s eyes. He moved forward. “I’m not a wallflower. Trust me to know myself better than you know me, at least at this point. And trust me to be the one to cut your knees out from under you again if you go too far.”

Travis made a weight-lifting face—one of those weird, crunched expressions that guys at the gym got when they were lifting too damn much. “If you get between me and some kid I suspect of a crime, I’ll lash out at you.”

“Verbally or physically.”

“Verbally! But that doesn’t make it better.”

“Nope, but you can trust that I have pretty good defenses of my own, and if you lash out, I’ll go toe-to-toe with you in the insults department. I think I proved that.”

That made Travis laugh. “Yeah, you did. And choosing to do it at work… I think most of the unit is ready to build you an altar and worship you for your ability to take me down a few pegs.”

“I prefer to let you do the dominating, but that doesn’t mean I won’t stand up for myself,” Ollie said.

“So, I never again get to assume you can’t handle something?”

“If I can’t, I’ll tell you, and that goes for both private and professional matters.”

“And if I think I see you struggling?” Travis sounded unsure.

Ollie sighed. “Most of my struggles in the past month have been the direct result of you and your habit of making assumptions and not listening to me.”

Travis flinched. “That’s fair. That’s brutal and slightly soul shrinking, but fair. So, let me test out this new rule. Right now, I think having sex is the world’s worst idea because this is all very raw.”

“Are you raw, or are you assuming I am?” Ollie asked.

From Travis’s chagrined expression, it was the latter.

“Personally, I think sex is a fucking great idea, and as someone who has a partner who believes I’m strong enough to make my own choices, I bet you agree.”

“I suddenly feel like I’m dating a younger and prettier Buck.”

“I’m not a marine, but I’ll take that as a compliment,” Ollie said. He didn’t mind that comparison at all, because Buck was the kind of man not worth screwing with. If that was the mental comparison Travis had to make to get over his weird overprotective streak, Ollie could deal. “So, any comments?” Ollie asked.

Travis looked at him, and then something shifted. His expression took on a little of the devil, and some of that sexual energy returned. “Go get a towel and a pillow.”

Ollie opened his mouth to ask why, but something in Travis’s expression warned him not to. Travis was waiting for proof that this wouldn’t work, that he was too much, too dominant, too aggressive. He thought he was wrong, and Ollie could see that. And wasn’t that the irony? Assholes like the one who had abused Reeves never considered that they were in the wrong, but men like Travis always questioned it. They didn’t do something horrible and apologize later to try to get their partners back. No. They pushed their partners away out of a fear they might go too far. That was the line between the two groups of Doms.

And Ollie did trust Travis. So without a word, he went and grabbed a pillow off his bed and an old towel. When he came back to the living room, Travis stood by the couch’s wide, cushioned arm. He held out his hand, and Ollie surrendered both items. Travis put the pillow on the arm of the couch and then draped the towel over it. “Bend over,” he ordered.

Ollie felt pleasure like a warm feather already teasing him. His cock hardened as he positioned himself over the arm so his butt was in the air. Travis took some time caressing Ollie’s bottom, tracing the seam of his jeans, and then slapping Ollie hard enough to make the heat gather. Ollie wanted so much more, but he also wanted Travis to take control, so he buried his face in his arms and tried to simply accept what Travis offered.

When Travis reached under to unbutton Ollie’s jeans, Ollie tried to help. Travis grabbed Ollie’s wrists and pinned them next to his head. Accepting the wordless order, Ollie tucked his hands under him and let Travis strip him of his jeans. Well, almost. Ollie had his shoes on, so Travis bunched the pants up around Ollie’s ankles and then pushed on the insides of Ollie’s thighs to get him to open his legs more.