An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Private Dicks

ISBN 9781419921674
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Private Dicks Copyright © 2009 Katie Allen

Edited by Kelli Collins
Cover art by Syneca

Electronic book Publication April 2009

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PRIVATE DICKS

Katie Allen

Trademarks Acknowledgments

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following

wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Broncos: PDB Sports, Ltd.
Dumpster: Dempster Brothers, Inc.
Glock: Glock, Inc.
Hannah Montana: Disney Enterprises, Inc.
IHOP: IHOP IC, LLC
MagLite: Mag Instrument, Inc.
Pink Panther: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios, Inc.
Raiders: The Oakland Raiders AD, Football, Inc.
Smith and Wesson Sigma: Smith and Wesson Corp.
Waffle House: WH Capital, LLC

Chapter One

Maybe it was time to find another partner. Even as Isaac Rhodes thought it, he knew he would

never do it—not unless Nate Washington dumped him.

“C’mon, Rhodie,” Wash hissed from the darkened doorway. With a resigned sigh, Rhodes

followed him, staying close behind as they climbed the narrow stairway that smelled like pot and
urine.

On the third floor, they flanked the door of apartment 304 and Rhodes drew his gun. Wash

did his usual incomprehensible hand signals and Rhodes rolled his eyes. He didn’t know why his
partner did that—it wasn’t as if this was their first time. Pivoting to face the door, Rhodes opened
it with a single kick and then they were inside, moving fast.

When they burst into the bedroom, Terry Glade had barely made it out of bed. His girlfriend

started screaming, a piercing, air-raid siren of a shriek, and clutched the sheet to her drooping
breasts.

Wash tackled Terry, easily flipping the smaller man over onto his stomach and digging a knee

into his back. Rhodes stayed back to cover the room. They didn’t need someone popping out of
the bathroom with a semiautomatic.

“Where’re you going, Ter?” Wash asked, sounding almost jovial. “Could you tell your girl-

friend to shut it?”

“Tanya, knock it off,” Terry yelled at the woman, who shut her mouth in mid-scream, imme-

diately swapping fear for anger.

“Who are you to tell me to shut up, asshole?” she demanded indignantly. “Out of jail for not

even a day and guys with guns are breaking down my door. What’d you do now?”

“Nothing!” Terry insisted. “I swear!”
“Uh-huh,” Tanya said skeptically, managing to cross her arms over her chest while keeping

the sheet in place.

“Can I talk to Terry now, sweetie?” Wash asked with a charming smile.
Tanya shrugged, although Rhodes could see the spark of interest light in her eyes and she

reached up with one hand to smooth her hair. “Whatever,” she told him, giving another shrug that
allowed the sheet to slip a little farther down her breasts to reveal a faded rose tattoo.

“Thank you,” Wash said with a wink, turning back to the man he had pinned and grabbing a

handful of his lank hair. “So how’s life on the outside treating you, Ter?”

“It was good,” Terry complained into the stained carpet.
“That’s nice,” Wash said sweetly. “Got any plans?”
After a short pause, the naked man muttered, “No.”
“Now, I just don’t believe you, Terry,” Wash told him and yanked the other man’s head up by

his hair. “See my partner over there?”

Rhodes knew his part well. He gave his best menacing scowl and raised his gun a notch.
Terry blanched.

“He hasn’t killed anyone yet today and it’s making him a little testy,” Wash explained, his

voice patient. “Why don’t we try this again? Planning to go anywhere later? Maybe to see your
ex-wife?”

Terry swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his thin throat. “Bitch owes me money,” he

muttered.

With a long-suffering sigh, Wash slammed Terry’s head against the floor. “I have a much bet-

ter idea, Ter. How about you skip the visit to your ex and leave town instead? That way, you’re
much less likely to run into my partner and his Glock, which makes it much more likely that you’ll
stay alive.” He pulled Terry’s head from the floor and, on cue, Rhodes narrowed his eyes and
bared his teeth.

Terry whimpered as blood trickled from his nose, running over his receding chin and dripping

onto the floor, adding bright red dots to the motley stains already covering the carpet.

“Look,” Wash told him, pulling out an envelope and waving it in front of Terry’s terrified

face. “We even got you a bus ticket to sunny California. Just think—tan women, no more winters,
maybe you’ll even land a movie role. Isn’t that better than being dead, Ter?”

The other man nodded and Wash released his hair, although he paused to dig his knee into

Terry’s back. “You even look in the direction of your ex’s house, Ter, and that’ll be it for you.
Understand?”

“Yeah,” he wheezed.
“Good. We’ll just be outside, watching, just to make sure you don’t get lost on your way to

the bus station. Better hurry—your ride leaves in an hour.” Wash stood up and sent Tanya a final
smile and wink. “Bye, sweetie.”

She gave him a wave that turned into a nonchalant hair flip halfway through. The two men

left the way they came in, carefully checking each room as they retreated. Once outside in the al-
ley, Rhodes holstered his gun.

“You’ve really got that whole murderous psycho look down, Rhodie,” Wash told him, clap-

ping him on the shoulder. “Nice job.”

“Thanks,” Rhodes said dryly. “Most of it’s genetics. I just add the frown.”
“Well it’s pure genius—works every time.” He opened the passenger side door of Rhodes’

car. “Want to grab a drink after we escort this piece of shit to the bus station?”

Rhodes gave an affirmative shrug, his stomach lurching with excitement even as he cursed

himself. By now, he should have learned that he was setting himself up for disappointment. He
just couldn’t help it.

With a sigh, Rhodes dropped into the driver’s seat and pulled the door closed. Glancing over

at Wash, he was struck by the way the streetlight outlined the sharp angles of his cheekbones, con-
trasting so dramatically with the full, amused curve of his lips.

Shit, Rhodes thought, dragging his gaze off the gorgeous man next to him and shifting in his

seat to hide his burgeoning erection.

He really needed to find a new partner.

Wash lifted his beer. “Here’s to Terry’s relocation to California.”

With a tip of his own bottle, Rhodes amended the toast. “Here’s to getting paid.”
“Amen to that,” Wash agreed fervently, taking a drink. “I like this kind of job—the client

never has to see her loser ex-husband again, no one is shot and we get our money. Everyone is
happy.”

“Yeah,” Rhodes echoed. “Everyone’s happy.”
Wash looked at him curiously. “What’s up?”
“What?”
Shrugging, Wash took another drink. “You didn’t sound very enthusiastic about that whole

‘happy’ thing. Lately, you’ve just seemed a little…off.”

“Off?” Rhodes scowled. “You make me sound like spoiled milk or something.”
Waving a dismissive hand, Wash said, “You know what I mean. So what’s the matter, man?

You need to get laid or something?”

A corner of Rhodes’ mouth kicked up at that. It was just close enough to the truth to be darkly

amusing. “I’m fine.” He tried to change the subject. “So, we going to take that shooting case or do
you think it’s a bad idea to get involved with Gonzales’ shit?”

Wash shook his head. “Don’t try to put me off by talking about Gonzo. I’m on a mission to

find you a piece of ass.”

“Please don’t.”
Wash ignored him, glancing around the bar. It was their favorite spot, a shabby almost-dive

patronized mostly by cops. “How ’bout her?” he asked, pointing.

“No.”
“You didn’t even look.”
Gritting his teeth, Rhodes traced circles on the table with his beer bottle, leaving wet trails of

condensation. “Leave it.”

“Come on, buddy—she’s kind of cute. After another beer, she’ll go up to pretty cute.” Wash

grinned at him, showing the dents in his cheeks that were too masculine to be called dimples. “You
just need some hot, sweaty sex to make everything all right.”

Rhodes sucked in a breath. Despite the context, those words coming from Wash’s mouth

made his cock swell. “Seriously, man—drop it,” he rasped.

“Just trying to help you out here, Rhodie,” Wash protested, his hands spread innocently.

“C’mon, this place is packed. There has to be one you’d take home.”

“Fine.” Rhodes was tired, sick of all the bullshit, all the half-truths and evasions over the past

year that had been building up since he’d started working with Wash—started wanting Wash. He
ran an eye around the crowded room and gave a jerk of his head toward the bar. “There.”

“Which one?” Wash asked eagerly, craning his neck to see where his partner had indicated.

“The blond in the silver, shiny thing?”

“No.”
“Good, ’cause I’m pretty sure she’s a pro. Thought you were losing those cop observation

skills for a second.” He frowned. “What’s a hooker doing here? Think she doesn’t know she’s
surrounded by cops?” After pondering that for a moment, Wash shook his head and glanced back

into the crowd. “Whatever. Back to the mission at hand. Did you mean that little brown-haired
one then?” Looking back at Rhodes, he added doubtfully, “She looks kind of…mature, don’t you
think?”

“Not her. The bartender.”
Wash’s head whipped around to stare at the burly man behind the counter. “But…” He turned

back to face Rhodes, his expression baffled, as if he didn’t know whether to laugh or not. “I don’t
know if you noticed, buddy, but that’s a guy.”

Forcing himself to hold Wash’s gaze, he answered, “I noticed.”
Wash glanced at the bar again, as if to make sure that a woman didn’t pop out from behind

the male bartender. “Is this your way of telling me to back off?” he asked, turning back to Rhodes.
“You can just tell me to go fuck myself, you know.” An up-curve at the corners of Wash’s mouth
seemed ready for the punch line, for Rhodes to yell, “Got you!” and hit him on the shoulder, at
which point they could both have a good laugh.

He didn’t do that. Instead, Rhodes shook his head, holding the other man’s eyes even as he

took a drink of his beer.

The trace of a smile fell away. “Quit messing with me, Rhodie.”
“I’m not.”
Then there was silence, the awful silence that made Rhodes’ stomach hurt.
“Seriously?”
Rhodes couldn’t force out the words, so he just stared at Wash.
“Whoa, you mean it.” Wash leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest—as

if to ward off any gayness missiles tossed his way. Even though he felt like he was going to puke,
Rhodes still wanted to laugh.

“You’re gay,” Wash stated.
Rhodes nodded, a short jerk of his head, dropping his gaze to his beer.
“As in, you-like-men gay.”
Still eyeing his beer, Rhodes gave an affirmative shrug.
“As in, you-like-to-fuck-men gay.”
“Yes!” Rhodes bit out, jerking his head up in irritation at Wash’s incredulous tone. Rhodes

didn’t want to have to see this, didn’t want to watch his friend’s friendly, humorous expression
turn to disgust. Why had he done it? He didn’t have to come out to Wash—obviously, his partner
had been oblivious to Rhodes’ preferences.

Working for Wash was his livelihood, the way he’d survived—mentally and finan-

cially—after leaving the force. What could he do now, private security? Rhodes winced. This had
been a great job for over a year—why did he have to go and fuck it up like that? Now he’d lose
everything—his job, Wash, any reason for living…

“And you’re only telling me this now?” It was Wash’s turn to sound pissed off.
Rhodes blinked. That wasn’t exactly the response he’d been expecting. “Well, it’s not usually

what I lead off with when shaking someone’s hand.”

Leaning in, his eyes snapping bright green with anger, Wash retorted, “We didn’t just meet.

We’ve been working together for a fucking year, spending just about every waking second togeth-
er, and you just come out with this now? I told you about Rosewood, you fucker!”

“Yeah, well, having spent a couple years in juvie isn’t going to get you beat up in the men’s

room, is it? It’s not going to get ‘fag’ spray-painted on your locker. It’s not going to make your
partner ask to be reassigned ’cause he’s worried about being in a patrol car with a queer!”

Wash didn’t look any less angry. “Is that what you think? That I’m going to dump you as my

partner now that I know?”

God, he really was going to throw up. Forcing himself to hold Wash’s eyes, he quietly asked,

“Are you?”

Kicking back his chair, Wash stood, glaring down at Rhodes. “Is that what you think of me?”

he demanded. Without waiting for an answer, he turned to leave, turning back just long enough to
spit, “Go fuck yourself, Rhodes.”

Sleeping wasn’t an option.
Sleep was elusive even on good nights, nights when he hadn’t just outed himself to his partner

and probably lost his job, so it certainly wasn’t happening tonight. His apartment felt airless,
closed-in. Rhodes couldn’t breathe.

Throwing on some running shoes, he jogged down the steps of his building to the street. Al-

though it was the wee hours of the morning, when everyone should have been tucked away in
their homes, the city was still awake. Occasional cars drifted by, a couple argued as they walked
unsteadily, probably leaving a party or one of the after-hours joints, and a rail-thin man dug for
aluminum cans in the Dumpster protruding from the alley.

Rhodes tried to tune it out as he ran, forcing himself to ignore the bickering couple. Even

though it had been more than a year, habit urged him to assess the situation, intervene if necessary,
defuse the tension building between the two people before it escalated to violence. Despite his
best attempt at not paying attention to them, Rhodes knew in his gut that the woman was about
ten seconds away from hauling off and smacking her companion.

Clenching his jaw, he ran faster, rounding the corner and sprinting down the next block until

the arguing couple’s voices faded into the noise of the city. He ran toward downtown, struggling
to find calmness in the rhythm of his breathing, in the slap of his shoes against the pavement, but it
wasn’t happening. His brain wouldn’t quiet down, wouldn’t blank with the usual endorphin high.

He stopped when he reached the river, walking small circles as he debated whether to turn

onto the river road or head back home. Brushing a sleeve against the sweat trickling down his
temple, Rhodes stared across the river. What he really wanted to do was keep running but experi-
ence reminded him that when he ran himself out, when his legs were marshmallow-weak and the
world spun dizzily around him, he’d still have to figure out a way to get home. Over the past year,
Wash had picked him up a few times after one of his unplanned extended runs but Rhodes doubted
that his partner would relish coming out to get him after the previous evening’s conversation. At
the very least, it would be an awkward ride home.

Blue and red flashing lights several blocks downriver caught his attention and distracted him

from his internal debate. They drew him, even as he cursed himself for jogging toward the scene.

Something big had happened. Rhodes counted six squad cars, a couple ambulances and a fire
truck. He also noticed Amelia Gomez’s blue sedan and moved in until he stood next to the tape
marking off the scene.

Most of the action seemed to be focused on a warehouse that had been remodeled into upscale

lofts. Rhodes spotted Detective Gomez talking with one of the uniformed cops. Although his brain
was urging him to back away and continue his run, Rhodes couldn’t move. He stood in place until
Gomez glanced up and spotted him. After a few more words to the uniformed officer, she strode
over.

“Been listening to the scanner again, Rhodes?” she asked.
Scowling, he gave a short shake of his head. “Running by and saw the lights. What’s up?”
“Murder-suicide,” she told him grimly. “Callum and I were called in because the vic is my

missing girl.”

“Rough,” he sympathized and she gave a tight nod.
“Thanks. Really not the way I wanted this case to go.” She stared at the loft building. Rhodes

followed her gaze and stiffened. Gomez’s partner was headed their way.

“Rhodes,” Callum greeted him with false congeniality. “Where’s your boyfriend? Thought

the two of you were joined at the hip?”

“Knock it off, Cal,” Gomez sighed.
Normally Rhodes ignored Callum’s bullshit, but not this time. He was tired and wound tight

and Cal had just managed to flick the rawest of raw spots.

“He’s at your place…fucking your wife,” Rhodes growled, taking a small amount of satisfac-

tion from the other man’s shocked expression. Callum’s face darkened and he lunged, sending a
surge of anticipation through Rhodes. He crouched, ready to slam a fist into Callum’s smug-ass
face—gleefully looking forward to it, actually—but Gomez swiftly positioned herself between
them, ruining any chance for a cathartic brawl.

“Knock this shit off,” she hissed. “Two people are dead, we have a case to wrap up and you,”

she turned toward Rhodes, “shouldn’t even be here. Go home.”

After a final glare at Callum, Rhodes turned to leave, adrenaline still shooting through his

system. He definitely wouldn’t be able to sleep now.

His legs were heavy by the time he climbed the stairs to his building but his brain still hadn’t

settled down. Heading down the hallway toward his apartment door, he ground the heels of his
hands against his gritty eyes. His arms dropped back to his sides and he blinked—then jerked to a
halt.

Wash was leaning against the wall by his door.
Forcing his legs to start moving again, Rhodes walked toward his partner. Words were impos-

sible, so he just ignored the other man and shoved his key into the deadbolt.

“You do know it’s three in the morning, right?” Wash asked. “A time no one should be awake,

much less out running? I’ve been waiting here forever.”

“Don’t remember asking you to come over,” Rhodes muttered, flushing a little at his surly

tone. He shouldered the door open and walked into his apartment. Not waiting for an invitation,
Wash followed him.

“Yeah, well…thought I should check on you,” Wash told him. “You okay?”
Rhodes shrugged, toeing off his shoes. “I’m fine,” he said irritably. “Just tired.”
Wandering farther into the living room, Wash shoved his hands into his pockets. He seemed

to be trying very hard not to meet Rhodes’ eyes. “Sorry I acted like such an asshole earlier.”

“It’s fine,” Rhodes gritted. He started to pull off his sweat-soaked t-shirt and hesitated for

a brief second before yanking it over his head. If Wash was uncomfortable with his bare chest,
tough.

“I don’t care that you’re gay,” Wash continued as if Rhodes hadn’t spoken. “I was just pissed

you hadn’t told me. Thought we were tight, man.”

Hands on his hips, Rhodes stared at the floor, vaguely noticing that one of his socks had a

hole in the toe. “That was the first time I’d ever told anyone,” he told the hole. Forcing himself to
meet Wash’s gaze, he demanded, “That tight enough for you?”

“Bullshit,” Wash retorted. “You told me earlier tonight that you’d been getting harassed on

the job. At least some of your cop buddies had to know.”

“I didn’t tell them.” His legs wobbled a little and Rhodes let himself drop to sit on the edge

of the couch. He was sweaty and disgusting but really didn’t care about that right now.

“Who did?” Wash lowered himself into a chair next to the couch.
Rubbing a rough hand over his head, Rhodes sighed, wishing he had never started the conver-

sation. “A couple of guys from Vice. There was a bust at Starlight. They saw me there. Couldn’t
wait to tell everyone.”

“Shit.” Wash sat back, apparently digesting the information. “You go to gay clubs?”
Rhodes scowled. “Where am I supposed to go? A titty bar?”
“Right. Sorry. I’m just trying to picture you all clubbed out and fabulous.”
Relenting, Rhodes shook his head, propping his elbows on his knees and staring at his toe

protruding from the hole again. “I don’t go much.” Just when he was driven to it, so lonely and
horny and desperate that he had no choice.

“Fuckers,” Wash spat.
Rhodes glanced up, confused.
“Those guys had no right to out you. Assholes! Was this the real reason you got booted from

the cop shop?”

“The real reason?” Rhodes repeated. “Probably. The official report says otherwise though.”
“Whatever the official report said is bullshit.” Wash looked indignant. “I’ve worked with you

long enough—I know that you were a good cop.”

A little warmed by his defense, Rhodes just shrugged awkwardly.
“You tell your family?”
“No.” Rhodes shook his head. “I was sixteen when Dad got shot—hadn’t even admitted it to

myself yet. Don’t talk to my mother much. Hardly know the half-brothers.”

Wash was quiet for a few moments. “Well, now I feel like shit!” he finally burst out.
“Why?”
“I’m the first one you’ve ever come out to—that’s a big fucking deal. So what do I do? Make

it all about me and my hurt feelings. I’m an asshole. Sorry, Rhodie.” Pushing himself up from his
chair, Wash moved toward Rhodes, who looked at him, alarmed.

“We have to hug or something now?” Rhodes asked.
Wash laughed. “You don’t have to sound so horrified. Think of it as an opportunity to cop a

feel.”

“You are an asshole,” Rhodes grunted, fighting a smile.
“Told you,” his partner said mildly. “Now get to bed and get a few hours of sleep at least.

You’ll need it tomorrow. If we’re going to avoid opening the can of worms that is Gonzo, it’s go-
ing to be catch-the-bail-jumper day in order to earn our supper.”

“Shit,” Rhodes groaned, although he felt lighter and a few of the knotted twists in his stomach

had been smoothed out. Sleep still didn’t seem likely. Possible, though. Maybe possible.

He didn’t sleep. The whole thing—coming out to Wash and the way his partner had shown

up at his apartment earlier—broke something open inside Rhodes, allowing relief and anticipation
and even elation to trickle through him, making his head and his cock buzz.

He felt…free. Rhodes had ripped away the disguise and revealed what he really was, and his

friend hadn’t kicked him in the teeth. Okay, so maybe Wash had kicked him in the teeth initially,
but he’d apologized later and seemed perfectly fine with the gay part of it.

Thinking about Wash—leaning against the hallway wall, concerned and waiting for him to re-

turn, coming in for the hug, his back-to-normal grin, that infinitely sexy smile—Rhodes groaned.
It was a different kind of restlessness that made him toss the sheet back this time.

As he fumbled in his nightstand drawer for lube, his favorite daydream about Wash started

its familiar loop in his head. Slicking his hand down his erection, Rhodes settled back against the
headboard.

“They’re sleeping.” Wash sighed, slumping against the seat. “Nothing’s going to happen here

tonight.”

“We can’t leave,” Rhodes told him. “If this guy decides to take off, we’ll never find him.”
“Shit.” Another deep sigh. “I’m bored.”
Rhodes just grunted, staring through the car windshield at the dark windows of the apartment

they were watching.

Shifting in his seat, Wash turned toward his partner. “I know something we can do to keep

ourselves…entertained.”

The seductive note in his voice brought Rhodes’ head around. “What?” he asked suspiciously.
Wash just grinned and leaned toward him, cupping a hand around the bulge at Rhodes’

crotch.

“Fuck!” Rhodes hissed, jerking against Wash’s grip.

“That’s just what I was thinking,” purred Wash, his fingers busy popping open the button of

Rhodes’ jeans. The buzz of his zipper was loud in the quiet darkness. The only other sound Rhodes
could hear was his own panting breaths as Wash slipped a hand beneath the waistband of Rhodes’
underwear and grasped his cock.

“What are you doing?” Rhodes gasped. His hips lifted toward his partner’s grip and Wash

took advantage of the movement to tug Rhodes’ jeans and briefs down his thighs.

“You can’t tell?” With a wicked glance through his lashes, Wash lowered his head and kissed

the tip of Rhodes’ cock.

“Jesus Christ!”
Wash lifted his head and grinned. “Not quite, but thanks.”
Grabbing the other man’s head with both hands, Rhodes shoved Wash back down toward his

straining erection. “Funny. Now suck me.”

Rhodes groaned as a puff of air blew against his leaking cock. Wash, the fucker, was laughing.

The tip of his partner’s tongue traced a teasing spiral around the head of Rhodes’ erection, smal-
ler and smaller circles until Wash lapped at his slit. Rhodes thrust his hips up, frantic to bury his
cock into Wash’s tormenting mouth.

“Please,” he begged, not even recognizing the rough voice as his own. “Please, suck me!”
“Sure,” Wash agreed. “You just had to ask.”
Rhodes’ snarl morphed into a groan as Wash swallowed his erection, working each inch into

his mouth until the entire length of his cock was surrounded by wet, suctioning heat.

“Fuck!” he moaned as Wash tightened his lips and pulled back until he could run his tongue

beneath the head. Everything felt so slick and incredible and agonizingly slow—Rhodes couldn’t
stand it another second. Grasping two fistfuls of Wash’s hair, he took over, fucking his partner’s
mouth, faster and faster until Rhodes’ balls drew up tightly and he exploded, his whole world col-
lapsing around him in a shivering earthquake of almost unbearable pleasure.

Wash swallowed his cum, making hungry, eager sounds that buzzed through Rhodes’ cock

and drew burst after burst of ecstasy from deep within him, liquefying his spine until everything
inside him had emptied into Wash’s throat.

Rhodes came hard, spurting into his own hand, but the pleasure was over quickly, leaving him

sticky and feeling lonely and slightly guilty, as if he had used the image of Wash without permis-
sion. Swinging his legs out of bed, he shoved himself to his feet and headed to the bathroom to
wash up, more awake than ever.

Chapter Two

Rhodes was pissed off. He had gotten just two hours of restless dozing in before the alarm

buzzed in his ear. The freeway traffic was lighter than usual, although the morning commuters, for
no reason that Rhodes could see, poked along at a good eight miles below the speed limit. Boxed

in behind a wall of SUVs, he snatched up his travel cup to take a drink and managed to dump a
searing wave of coffee onto his lap.

“Shit!” He hissed in pain, tugging at the wet fabric across his crotch and almost missing his

exit. Dodging over three lanes, he squeezed between two cars, swearing under his breath. Rhodes
was almost looking forward to tracking down bail jumpers. He was in the mood to break a few
heads.

Once he was off the freeway, the traffic disappeared. He weaved through the maze of one-

way streets to his and Wash’s office. Parking in the tiny lot, he eyed the utilitarian building. It
was in what was considered to be a transitional part of town, with developers slowly clearing the
neighborhood of its crumbling buildings with broken windows and unauthorized tenants in the
name of urban renewal. Their building was scheduled to be demolished to make way for the new
trend—upscale lofts with retail on the bottom floor.

“Like this neighborhood needs another damn coffee shop,” Rhodes muttered. He had to ad-

mit, though, that the only thing he’d miss about this ugly building was the cheap rent. It meant
they’d have to move. Moving sucked.

Climbing the front steps, Rhodes scowled. Someone was huddled against the cinderblock

wall next to the main door.

“Hey, guy.” Rhodes walked over to the stranger. “You can’t set up camp here. You’ll scare

away the customers.” He almost grinned at his own words. Their clients weren’t the type to be
frightened off by a small homeless guy.

The man looked up and Rhodes sighed soundlessly. Homeless kid then, he thought, eyeing

the baby-faced youth staring up at him with huge eyes.

“C’mon, kid,” Rhodes told him, more gently this time. “Let’s go.”
“You Nate Washington?” the boy asked, pushing to his feet and swaying a little. His jeans

hung on his hipbones and his collar was separating from the rest of his dingy t-shirt.

Rhodes shook his head. “His partner, Isaac Rhodes. You looking for Wash?”
The kid nodded. “Gonzo said you guys could help me.”
As Rhodes looked down at the half-fearful, half-hopeful face, he sighed, pulled out his phone

and sent a short text to Wash. The kid watched as Rhodes pocketed his cell.

“What’s your name?” Rhodes asked gruffly.
The kid hesitated, as if deciding whether or not to lie. “Carlos.”
“Okay, Carlos, let’s go.” Rhodes was halfway down the stairs when he realized the kid wasn’t

following. He cocked a questioning eyebrow.

“You won’t help me then?” Carlos asked, his voice shaking behind his scowl.
Rhodes frowned right back. “What’re you talking about? We’re just going to get some break-

fast while we wait for Wash. No reason for you to tell the same story twice.”

After a few seconds, the kid gave a wary nod and followed Rhodes down the steps. With a

grunt of approval, Rhodes led the way to the neighboring IHOP.

They were quickly settled in a booth and handed menus. Rhodes saw the nervous flicker of

the boy’s eyes.

“Order whatever you want,” he told Carlos, looking down at his own menu. “It’s on me.”

“I can’t—” the kid started to protest but Rhodes cut him off.
“We take all our potential clients out,” Rhodes lied, meeting Carlos’ gaze evenly. “Usually

somewhere a little fancier but hey, you caught us by surprise.”

After watching Rhodes for a few seconds, Carlos nodded and perused his menu so intently

that Rhodes had to smother a grin. The kid was hungry.

“Rhodie!”
At Wash’s greeting, Rhodes did smile before catching himself and turning it into a scowl.

“Wash. Took you long enough.”

Ignoring Rhodes’ surly response, Wash slid into the booth next to his partner. His leg brushed

Rhodes’ sprawled knee and a shiver chased its way down his spine to his cock.

“Hello.” Wash cocked his head as he eyed the kid across the table. “And who might you be?”
“C-Carlos,” the boy stammered, flushing.
“Nate Washington. Good to meet you, young Carlos,” Wash greeted as he extended a hand

over the table. The kid flinched slightly before recovering his nerve enough to shake Wash’s hand.

As he sat back, Wash’s knee brushed Rhodes’ leg again. Rhodes went still. Was Wash doing

it on purpose? Was he actually…flirting?

Giving his head a hard shake, Rhodes dismissed the thought. It was just his sex-starved brain

misreading a casual, unintentional touch. He frowned at his menu, irritated at his silly disappoint-
ment.

The waitress arrived to take their order. Carlos asked for a half-order of chocolate chip pan-

cakes, which Rhodes turned into a full order—adding orange juice, sausage, bacon, fruit and toast
to the kid’s order.

“How do you like your eggs?” he barked.
Carlos blinked. “S-scrambled?”
“And scrambled eggs,” Rhodes repeated to the waitress before ordering for himself.
Wash grinned, looking back and forth between Rhodes and Carlos. “Such a sweet mother

hen,” he cooed, trying to pat Rhodes on the head. Rhodes swatted his hand away.

“Your turn,” he growled, frowning.
“Sorry.” Wash smiled at the waitress, who immediately melted into her orthopedic shoes.
“No problem,” she cooed, smiling back. “What would you like?”
Wash ordered and the waitress left reluctantly. Carlos began to slide out of the booth.
“’Scuse me,” he muttered.
“Where are you going?” Rhodes asked.
Carlos flushed. “Bathroom.”
After eyeing him for a few seconds, Rhodes gave a short nod.
“I came to you guys, remember?” the kid reminded him. “I’m not running off.” He grinned.

“Least not before I eat.”

“Whatever.” Rhodes waved him off. Rolling his eyes, Carlos slid out of the booth and headed

toward the restrooms.

Wash eyed his partner, smirking.
“What?” Rhodes finally grumbled, playing with the containers of syrup so he didn’t have to

meet Wash’s eyes.

A full-on grin spread over Wash’s face as he admitted, “I have so many jokes, I don’t even

know which one to use. So why’s wee Carlos eating pancakes with us at IHOP?”

Rhodes shrugged irritably. “Don’t know yet. We were waiting for your slow ass to arrive. He

was waiting at the front door of our building, asking for you.”

“Me?” Wash’s eyes rounded in surprise. “Am I supposed to know this kid?”
“Gonzales recommended you.” Rhodes pressed back a grin.
Sighing, Wash rolled his eyes. “Great. Gonzo is giving me referrals now. Think he’ll want a

cut?”

Rhodes snorted. “A cut of what? Did you see this kid? Even Gonzo knows how much a cut

of zero is.”

“So whatcha thinking?” Wash asked. “This our good deed for the year?”
With a shrug, Rhodes suggested, “Why don’t we see what he wants first. Could be against

our,” the corner of his mouth twitched, “professional ethics.”

Wash laughed. “Good one, Rhodie. You just want to hear this kid out so you get to eat pan-

cakes instead of chasing bail jumpers.”

“Sure,” Rhodes admitted easily. “Don’t you?”
Giving an affirmative shrug, Wash settled back against the seat, his shoulder brushing his

partner’s. “Well duh.”

Carlos returned to the table and the waitress followed soon after, unloading her enormous tray

onto their table. As he ate, Rhodes pretended not to watch the kid shove entire pancakes into his
mouth. He didn’t think Carlos even chewed.

When the boy had slowed down a little, Rhodes swallowed a bite of bacon and broke the si-

lence. “So what’s the story?”

“My little brother’s missing,” Carlos said, staring at his plate while tracing patterns in the syr-

up with his fork. “For three days now. Someone took him.”

“You call the cops?” Wash asked.
“Of course,” the kid said. “They see brown skin and think gang or runaway or whatever, but

I know Miguel. He’d never take off—especially without telling me.”

Rhodes eyed the kid thoughtfully. “Who do you live with?”
“Our mother. She thinks we should wait for the cops to find him but that’ll never hap-

pen—they’re not even looking.”

“What about your dad? Think he could’ve grabbed Miguel?” Wash suggested.
Carlos went still. “No. He’s dead,” he finally said flatly.
With a tiny wince, Rhodes absorbed that information. He knew how that felt. “Grandparents?

Uncles? Aunts? Anyone else who might want to take your brother?”

Shaking his head, Carlos said, “No one. Just me and Mamá. I mean, I love him and all ’cause

he’s my brother, but he’s kind of a doof. Who else’d want a dorky fourteen-year-old kid?”

Rhodes avoided his partner’s gaze. No reason for Carlos to hear the nastier possibilities yet.

“Okay,” he grunted, pulling out a notebook. “What’s your last name?”

“Herrero.”
“He’s fourteen?”
Carlos nodded. “Yeah, but he’s little. Most of the seventh graders even are bigger than him.”
“You have a picture?” Wash asked.
Pulling a wallet-sized photo from a back jeans pocket, Carlos smoothed it out carefully before

handing it over. “It’s last year’s school picture,” he explained. “His hair’s kinda different now.”

“Longer? Shorter?” Rhodes leaned toward Wash to look at the picture. A miniature Carlos

smiled shyly up at him. Stomach sinking, he caught Wash’s gaze. His partner’s face tightened and
he gave a tiny nod.

“Um, longer. And not off to the side like that.” Carlos looked back and forth between the two

men.

Trying to shake off the feeling of dread, Rhodes ordered, “Tell us what happened.”
“I pick him up from the center—”
“Center?” Rhodes interrupted.
“The youth center—he goes there after school. I work ’til five at Ed’s Market, then pick

Miguel up and walk him home.”

“He’s old enough to walk himself home, isn’t he?” Wash wondered.
With an awkward shrug, Carlos said, “I told you—he’s little. He’s one of those kids always

getting picked on, you know? This way, he’s somewhere safe ’til I can get him home.”

With a nod, Wash asked, “And your mom?”
“She works two jobs, so she gets home around eleven. I make sure Miguel gets dinner and

then does his homework.”

“What happened the day he went missing?” Rhodes questioned.
Carlos swallowed hard, pulling on his fingers. When he saw Rhodes looking at his hands, he

dropped them to his lap. “I was a few minutes late to meet him on Monday. Some kid threw up
by the checkout, so Dan—he’s my boss—asked me to clean it up before I left. When I got to the
center, Miguel wasn’t there. Mrs. Wera said Miguel had gone out to meet me at the normal time,
so I figured he’d just got tired of waiting and started walking home. I went home and, the whole
way, I was so mad at Miguel.” Carlos’ voice broke and, head bowed, he stared at his plate. “Then
I got to the apartment and he wasn’t there.”

Reaching across the table, Wash placed his hand on the boy’s bent head but Carlos shook him

off. Scrubbing his hands over his eyes, he continued, “I searched everywhere, went to all his fa-
vorite places, checked with all the kids I could think of, but no one saw him after he left the center.
When it started getting dark, I called my mom at work and then the cops.”

“Have you noticed anyone hanging around school or the center? Anyone following the two

of you when you walked home?” Rhodes asked but Carlos shook his head. “Anyone pay a lot of
attention to Miguel?”

“What d’you mean?” the kid asked.

“A classmate, teacher, someone at the center—did Miguel talk about anyone a lot?” Rhodes

clarified.

“Not really,” Carlos told him. “He hangs out with Goyo and Spencer sometimes. His home-

room and math teacher is Ms. Johnson at George Washington—he likes her okay. Doesn’t really
talk much about his other teachers.”

“Last names for Goyo and Spencer?”
“Reyes and Donaldson.”
With a nod, Rhodes scribbled them down. “You got a number where we can reach you?”
Carlos recited the number but warned him, “I’m not home much—just at night. You can stop

by Ed’s Market after school to talk to me. My boss’d be cool with that. He’s worried about Miguel
too.”

“Where do you live?” Rhodes opened the notebook again and jotted down the address as Car-

los rattled it off. “When’s your mom home? We’ll need to talk with her.”

With a wary look, the kid asked, “Why d’you need to talk to her?”
Rhodes held his gaze evenly. “She might tell us something you’ve missed.”
After a moment, Carlos shrugged. “Fine. Tomorrow she’ll be home after one or so. She can’t

tell you much though—it’ll be a waste of time.”

“We’ll just waste our time then,” Rhodes told him, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
“So…this mean you’re gonna find Miguel?” the kid asked.
“We’ll try. He’s been gone for…what’d you say? Three days?” Wash cocked his head. “By

the way, shouldn’t you be in school?”

Carlos brushed that off. “Before you take the case, how much…” Flushing, he twisted his

head away.

“We’re required to take a certain number of cases pro bono—that means for free,” Rhodes

lied. “To keep our license.” He ignored Wash’s raised eyebrow.

“I can pay,” Carlos protested. “It just might take me a while.”
“Forget it, kid,” Wash told him, obviously fighting a grin. “You don’t want us to lose our li-

cense, do you?”

Eyeing the two men, Carlos said slowly, “No, but—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Rhodes said, cutting him off. “Now get your ass to school. Need a

ride?”

“Nah. I can walk, it’s not too far.”
Standing up, Rhodes extended his hand. Carlos stared at it for a second before shaking it and

then Wash’s.

“We’ll let you know when we find something, okay?” Wash said and Carlos nodded.
“Thanks.” The boy scooted out of the booth and stood awkwardly, staring at the floor. “The

cops think he ran away—you guys don’t, do you?”

“No,” Rhodes told him honestly. Unfortunately, Carlos’ brother most likely hadn’t run away.
Carlos’ head came up. “Thanks. Let me know as soon as you find him, ’kay?”

“Of course,” Wash promised and Rhodes nodded in agreement.
They watched the skinny kid leave.
“Shit,” muttered Rhodes.
Wash stared at the picture in his hand. “Total pedophile bait,” he sighed, his face serious and

tired for a few moments before his expression lightened. “Tell me—what license do we need pro
bono work for again?”

With a growl, Rhodes cuffed his partner on the back of the head. “Shut the fuck up.”

They didn’t get much done on Miguel’s case that morning. Once they got back to the office, a

steady trickle of clients kept them busy until almost one. It meant paying work that didn’t involve
bail jumpers, which was a good thing, Rhodes reminded himself, especially considering the “pro
bono” case they’d be spending the majority of their time on for a while.

Despite this fact, the skinny woman sitting across his desk was still annoying the hell out of

him.

“No,” he said for the fifteenth time.
“Why not?” she whined. “I told you I can pay.”
Forcing his jaw to relax enough so he could answer her, he said with exaggerated patience,

“We’re not jumping your ex’s new girlfriend.”

“But the bitch moved in with him! We just broke up three weeks ago!”
Rhodes’ eyes flicked to the door of his tiny office, desperate for Wash to pop in and free him

from this interminable discussion. For once, his partner didn’t burst in with some crisis or another.
He sighed. “I don’t care. We don’t beat people up for no reason—even if you offer to pay.”

“No reason?” The woman’s voice sharpened to an outraged high squeak and Rhodes winced.

His lack of sleep had given him a headache and this person was not helping. “The whoring slut is
screwing my Tony!”

He eyed the woman. “Why aren’t you pissed at Tony then?” he asked, not even trying to hide

his exasperation anymore.

She stared at him as if he were an idiot. “I love Tony.”
“Whatever.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “You’re wasting your time here. We don’t

do beat-downs.”

The woman didn’t budge from her chair. “Is there anyone you could recommend then?”
Rhodes almost laughed at that. “No—no recommendation. My advice is to give up on Tony

and find a different guy. Leave this new girlfriend alone or you’ll find yourself doing some jail
time.”

She scowled. “But—”
“No.” His phone beeped and Rhodes pulled it out of his pocket with utter relief.
“Huh,” he grunted, reading the text message. “Excuse me, please,” he told the woman across

from him, who reluctantly stood up. He ushered her out of his office and almost shoved her out of
the reception area. Wash’s office door was open, so Rhodes stuck his head in.

Wash glanced away from his computer screen. “What’s up?”

“Gomez wants to meet us at Crawley’s in,” he checked his watch, “half an hour.”
“Better get moving then,” Wash said, pushing back his chair. He stood, stretching his arms

above his head.

Rhodes stared, fascinated by the ripple of muscles beneath Wash’s shirt. “What?” he grunted,

realizing that Wash was grinning at him.

“Wakey, wakey,” Wash teased. “That lack of sleep is catching up with you, Rhodie.”
Flushing, Rhodes wondered if Wash would think it was so funny if he knew what had kept

his partner from sleeping once he was in bed last night. “Hurry up,” he growled, stomping toward
the main door to hide his red face.

“You look like shit,” Gomez greeted Rhodes as he led the way toward her booth. She was

tucked into one corner and Rhodes swung into the other side.

“Thanks,” he told her. “Looking pretty rough yourself. You get any sleep last night?”
Wash slid in next to Rhodes. “This whole coffee-time-with-a-cop thing still feels weird to

me.” Wash gave a pretend shudder and then grinned. “How’s it hanging, Melie?”

“Shitty,” she answered. “And your partner is a cop, you moron.”
“Ex-cop,” Rhodes corrected.
Gomez scowled. “That was bullshit. That shooting was totally justified.”
“Not according to the official report,” Rhodes said. “Apparently, I had a ‘history of emotional

instability that affected my judgment on multiple occasions’.”

“Bullshit,” Gomez growled again. “You just pissed off the wrong people. You sucked at kiss-

ing ass—you still do.”

“Bullshit or not, the result’s the same.” As the waitress poured his coffee, Rhodes kept his

eyes on the flow and swirl of the dark liquid. He nodded his thanks as she pulled the pot away to
fill Wash’s cup.

“Besides,” Wash chimed in, “I got a kickass partner out of that very bullshit. The PD’s stu-

pidity was my gain.” Toasting Rhodes with his cup, he took a sip.

Amelia glared at him. “Fuck, Washington, don’t you ever think about anyone except your-

self?”

“Fuck, Gomez,” Wash mimicked. “Are you always such a bitch?”
Rhodes tuned them out, leaning back against the booth, concentrating on the bitter taste of

each swallow of coffee. Despite the caffeine, his eyelids drooped.

“Rhodes!” Gomez barked.
He raised a sleepy eyebrow at her.
“How is it that you were about to take Cal’s head off last night after one bitchy comment but

you spend every day with this guy and haven’t killed him yet?” she demanded.

At the mention of Callum, Rhodes frowned. “Your partner’s an asshole.”
Gomez’s eyebrows shot up. “And yours isn’t?”
“Sure,” Rhodes admitted absently, staring at his coffee. “But Wash is my asshole.”

As Wash choked and sputtered with laughter, Rhodes felt his face warm and shook his head.

“You know what I mean,” he muttered, glancing at Gomez, who looked as if she didn’t know
whether to be amused or pissed.

“Enough about our respective assholes,” Rhodes grumbled. “Why’d you drag us down here,

Gomez?”

With a final glare at Wash, who smirked back, Amelia explained, “It’s about my kidnapping

case.”

“Thought that was a homicide case now,” Rhodes commented mildly.
She shrugged. It was her turn to stare at her coffee. “Yeah, that’s the problem. They’re pulling

me off. Everyone figures she was secretly seeing the guy and tried to break it off, so he went
nuts—shot her, then killed himself.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Wash said. “You don’t think that’s how it went down?”
Frowning at her coffee, she explained, “It just doesn’t feel right, you know?” Gomez looked

up at the two men. “This girl, Mia, she kept a diary. Fifteen years old, had a crush on a boy at
school but was too shy to even say a word to the kid. Her science fair project was second at
State—she still had it set up in her room. She played basketball and was the coach’s assistant at
the Thirty-Sixth Street youth center. This wasn’t a wild girl.”

“The smart ones get caught up with the wrong guys too,” Wash reminded her but Gomez

shook her head.

“How’d she even meet this guy? He—this Troy Sanderson—was a forty-six-year-old invest-

ment banker from Ohio, for fuck’s sake! Mia lived in a two-bedroom apartment with her grand-
mother and two sisters thirteen miles away from the loft where this guy was staying. How’d he
find her?”

“You’re thinking he was watching her? Waited for his opportunity then snatched the girl?”

Rhodes asked.

“I don’t know,” she sighed. Gomez put down her coffee cup and dragged both hands through

her hair. “I’ve been looking for this girl for over a week and no one saw anyone hanging around
her house or school or the youth center. You’d think the investment banker would’ve stuck out in
that neighborhood.”

“Youth center?” Rhodes repeated, belatedly making the connection. His lack of sleep was

really putting him off his game. “Where’s the grandma’s apartment?”

“Thirty-second and Stout.”
“Six blocks from Carlos.” Wash said, glancing at him sharply. “You think there’s a connec-

tion?”

Looking back and forth between the two men, Gomez asked, “Connection?”
Rhodes took a sip of his cooling coffee to give his brain time to process the possibility. “We’re

looking into another disappearance—a fourteen-year-old boy,” he finally explained to Gomez.
“His…family hired us. Cops think he’s a runner but the brother doesn’t agree. Same deal as your
girl—good kid, smart, no real reason to take off.”

With a skeptical grunt, Gomez sat back in the booth. “You think my guy grabbed them both?

Where’s your kid then?”

Before she even finished speaking, Wash was shaking his head. “A boy and a girl? Most of

these kiddie-raping freaks have a preference.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty implausible but…” Rhodes twitched his shoulders, not liking the situation.

“Two kids, a year apart in age, go to the same youth center, snatched from the same neighbor-
hood—your girl go to G.W.?” When Gomez nodded, Rhodes added, “Same school. This seem like
a pretty fucking big coincidence to you two?”

“This whole thing is messed up,” Wash stated. “What was this guy from—what’d you say?

Ohio?—doing here anyway?”

Gomez shrugged. “Talked to the guy who owns the loft where it went down. Said Sanderson

was a friend of a friend, was in town for business and needed a place to stay. This loft unit hadn’t
sold yet, so the owner let Sanderson use it. The building owner is some developer, converted a
bunch of old warehouses into lofts, a dance club, stuff like that.”

Pulling his small notebook from his pocket, Rhodes asked, “What’s this developer’s name?”
“Barry Ness.”
His head coming up at her tone, Rhodes looked at the detective. “You didn’t like him.”
She shrugged, shook her head and then shrugged again.
Wash laughed. “Maybe, no, maybe?”
After shooting a glower his way, Gomez turned to Rhodes and told him, “Didn’t like him but

I’m not sure why. Probably he’s just a rich asshole and it has nothing to do with the case.”

“Good to know though,” Rhodes said thoughtfully.
“Not to ask a stupid question—” Wash began.
“When has that ever stopped you?” Gomez smirked at him.
Ignoring her interruption, he continued, “But why did you want to meet with us?”
“I didn’t.” When both men looked at her curiously, she clarified, “I wanted to meet with

Rhodes.”

“Whatever.” Wash rolled his eyes. “Why did you want to meet with Rhodes then?”
Shifting a little awkwardly, she admitted, “It’s pretty clear cut. Everything indicates that

Sanderson shot the girl and then himself. Since the official investigation is pretty much closed, I
was hoping you could continue it more…unofficially.”

“Why, Melie!” Wash gasped, his eyes wide with pretend horror. “Are you actually going

against orders?”

“No,” she snapped, before dropping her eyes for a guilty second. “I wasn’t actually ordered

not to ask you guys to look into things.”

Wash snorted. “Sounds like semantics to me.”
“Fuck you, Washington.”
“You wish.” It was his turn to smirk at Gomez.
“Enough.” Both Wash’s and Amelia’s heads turned at Rhodes’ command. “Bring us copies of

the files on your girl and Miguel Herrero and we’ll see what we can do.”

“I’ll send them over. Thank you.” Gomez directed her words at Rhodes, shooting Wash an

annoyed sideways glance.

Rhodes shrugged and started to slide out of the booth but Wash was in the way. He gave

Wash’s shoulder a light shove to get him moving. “Don’t thank us ’til we find something.”

With Rhodes driving, they made it to George Washington High School in time for the final

bell. Instead of trying to talk their way through security, they haunted the teachers’ parking lot and
waited for their interviewee to come to them.

The teachers began trickling out forty-five minutes later. Wash approached a woman heading

for her minivan.

“Ms. Johnson?” he guessed.
“No,” she told him, pointing to another teacher digging through her bag as she wove her way

through the cars. “Over there. In the blue dress.”

Rhodes fell back as Wash approached the woman. Two big guys hurrying toward her could

be a little intimidating. He followed Wash more slowly, meeting up with the pair as Wash was
introducing them both.

Ms. Johnson eyed the two of them suspiciously. “Who exactly are you?” she asked. Rhodes

could tell by looking at her that he’d wasted his time trying to appear less threatening. This woman
was scared of nothing.

“We’re private investigators. The Herrero family hired us to look into the disappearance of

Miguel Herrero.” Wash offered his business card as he flashed his best grin but Ms. Johnson’s ex-
pression didn’t relax. Rhodes wanted to laugh as his partner’s smile dimmed a little. Wash wasn’t
used to people being immune to his pretty-boy charm.

“There’s not much I can help you with,” she said. “As I told the police, he was in my

homeroom class first thing in the morning on Monday and in my algebra class seventh period.
Everything seemed normal.”

Wash nodded. “Any reports of strangers hanging around? Anyone unusual try to talk to

Miguel?”

“You’d have to check with Chuck Austin about that—he’s the principal. He gets the security

reports.”

“What about Miguel’s friends? Who did he hang around with?”
Her mouth tightened. “I can’t give you any students’ names,” she told Wash sharply. After a

few seconds, she sighed and admitted, “Although there really aren’t any to give. Miguel is shy,
very quiet. As far as I could tell, he kept to himself. Now please excuse me—I need to go.”

As she moved to go around Wash, he shifted his weight and blocked her way. “Just one more

question—do you think Miguel ran away?”

“No.” Her answer was definite. “He’s a good student, smart. I never had any discipline prob-

lems with Miguel. And as timid as that boy is, I can’t see him taking off on his own.”

“Thank you,” Wash gave her another smile as he stepped out of her way. “I appreciate you

taking the time to talk to us.”

With a short nod, she took a step toward her car and then turned. “I hope you find him,” she

said, sadness touching her face for a moment. “These kids come and go so frequently, I can’t let
myself get attached. Miguel though…he seems like a really sweet boy.”

“We’ll do our best,” Wash promised. After holding his gaze for a few seconds, Ms. Johnson

gave another nod before turning and striding purposefully toward her car.

The youth center was only two blocks away, so Rhodes and Wash walked over. Businesses

shared the crowded street with apartment buildings and a few slightly sagging houses. Almost
everyone had their front doors propped open, letting in the spring breeze. Rhodes eyed the kids
drawing with sidewalk chalk, the woman walking her Lab, the elderly couple rocking in their
porch swing.

“No way that investment banker stalked those kids,” Rhodes stated. “Even if he stayed in his

car, someone would’ve noticed him.”

“Yeah.” Wash nodded, looking around. “They’re noticing us and we blend a little better than

that guy would have.”

Glancing over at his partner, Rhodes took in the worn jeans and faded t-shirt Wash was wear-

ing. His hair was ink black, just long enough to be scruffy, and his skin was a few shades dark-
er than tan, showing off the bright green of his eyes. Wash’s mom had been a dishwater-blonde
with faded blue eyes. She had never been sure who his father was. When Wash was eight, she
had dragged him onto a trashy daytime talk show three times for three different surprise paternity
tests. All had been negative, to the three potential fathers’ relief. Wash’s too—he’d said that each
one of the men had been a bigger asshole than the last.

Rhodes was wearing a similar uniform of t-shirt and jeans, although he wasn’t nearly as pretty

as his partner. While Wash had the sleek, elegant lines of a leopard, Rhodes was more of a lum-
bering bear, with rough features and a shaved skull. When he let it grow out, his hair was dark
brown, as were his eyes. He was as ordinary and dull as Wash was…glittery.

Realizing a little late that Wash had said something, Rhodes ran a self-conscious hand over

his smooth skull. “What?”

“You really need to get some sleep.” Wash shook his head, although he was smiling. “Never

mind, it wasn’t important—we’re here.”

Passing through a chain-link gate, they walked into the front door of the youth center. A large

semicircular desk was staffed by a heavy-set woman with the suspicious glare of a guard dog.

“Can I help you?” the woman asked.
“I hope so.” Wash smiled and Rhodes had to stop his eyes from rolling as he watched his part-

ner’s dimples work their magic, making the woman’s scowl disappear. “Miguel Herrero’s family
hired us to look into his disappearance.”

The woman’s smile fell away, to be replaced by sorrow. “It’s such a terrible thing. He’s such

a sweet boy. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“That’s what we keep hearing,” Wash told her, nodding. “Were you here on Monday when he

went missing?”

“I’m not responsible for watching the kids,” she said, defensiveness coloring her voice.
“Of course not,” Wash soothed. “We were just wondering if anything out of the ordinary

happened. Maybe you saw someone hanging around?”

Although she appeared mollified, the woman shook her head. “The police asked me that too.

It was just a regular day until Carlos came in, saying his brother wasn’t there, even though I saw
Miguel go outside to wait for him.”

“When did Miguel leave?” Rhodes asked.
Darting a quick look at him, the woman said, “It was just after five, like every night. Carlos

is so good about taking care of Miguel. Such a responsible boy. He’s almost never late.”

“And when did Carlos come in, saying that Miguel wasn’t there?” Rhodes had pulled out his

notebook and was jotting down her answers.

“About fifteen minutes later or so. I know it wasn’t five-thirty yet, because that’s when I leave

work.” She nodded a few times.

“Who did he hang out with while he was here?” Wash asked, propping an elbow on the desk.
The woman shook her head. “You’d need to ask one of the activities coordinators. I usually

just see them coming and going.”

Checking his earlier notes, Rhodes said, “Carlos mentioned that a Mrs. Wera was here that

night. Is she around?”

“That’s me.”
“Right. Well thank you, Mrs. Wera.” Wash smiled at her again. “You’ve been very helpful.”
As they turned to leave, a photo to the right of the door caught Rhodes’ eye. “Who is this?”

he asked, stepping up for a closer view. The black and white picture featured a light-haired man in
his early forties, even-featured and looking like a thousand other corporate suits. Surrounding the
photo were dozens of pictures and cards with the words “thank you” printed in childish writing.

“Oh that’s our angel!” Mrs. Wera told him, her voice full of affection. “He’s the reason the

center is even here.”

Rhodes glanced over his shoulder at her and raised an eyebrow. “I noticed that you seem to

have very nice facilities here.”

“That’s all thanks to him. What he didn’t donate himself, he got by hosting fundraiser after

fundraiser. Even after doing all that, he still comes in and volunteers every now and then too.”

Wash moved next to Rhodes in order to see the picture. “He sounds like a positive saint,”

Wash commented.

“That he is. Mr. Ness saved the center.”
The two men glanced at each other.
“Barry Ness?” Rhodes asked slowly.
“That’s him!” Mrs. Wera beamed at him. “Do you know him?”
“Not yet,” he answered with another look toward Wash. “But I’m thinking it’s time we met.”

Chapter Three

Although the next day was Saturday, both Rhodes and Wash spent the morning at the office,

going through the police files and running the names of everyone mentioned in the police reports.
After three hours, when the computer screen began to blur, Rhodes decided he needed a walk and
coffee. Wash tagged along to the café a block and a half away.

“So we’ll go see Mrs. Herrero at one,” Rhodes said as they moved through the dawdling shop-

pers crowding the sidewalk. “Then we should try to figure out how to talk with that developer and
patron of youth centers, Ness. I’ve a feeling that Gomez’s instincts are dead-on in this case.”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty big coincidence how he keeps popping up all over this case. Ness owns

some club—think he’ll be there tonight? If he’s as slick as Melie promised, it might be better to
come at him sideways.” Wash rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a creased slip of pa-
per, a corner torn off a larger sheet. “The club’s called Stand and Deliver,” he read, glancing up at
Rhodes. “Never heard of it. Must be a new place.”

Pressing back a smile, Rhodes shook his head. “It’s been there awhile.”
“You’ve been to it?”
“No,” Rhodes said. “Too trendy for me.”
“Why haven’t I heard of it? I go to more clubs than you do.” Wash sounded so peeved that

Rhodes’ grin broke through.

“You’re not as cool as you think, man,” Rhodes told him. “Sad.”
“Fuck off,” Wash said, bumping him with his shoulder. His face lit up with realization. “It’s a

gay club, isn’t it? That’s why I haven’t been there!”

Rhodes shrugged affirmatively. “Think I should check it out tonight?”
“We’ll both go.” At Rhodes startled glance, Wash grinned. “You might need backup. C’mon,

it’ll be fun—like a date.”

He roared with laughter when Rhodes threatened him with a fist. Although Rhodes knew it

was stupid, excitement tickled his stomach at the thought of going to the club with Wash.

Knock it off, he commanded his belly, ruthlessly quashing the butterflies. Eyeing Wash up and

down, he forced skepticism into his voice. “What’re you going to wear?” He was amused despite
himself as Wash jerked to a stop, his head whipping around.

“What? You think I’m going to embarrass you?”
Rhodes just shrugged again and kept walking, tightening his mouth to keep his lips from

twitching.

“I’ll have you know, motherfucker, that I’m going to look fine tonight.”
Without turning around or slowing, Rhodes held up his hand in a small, condescending, ut-

terly disbelieving wave.

“I’ll look so hot the guys will be all over me!” Wash shouted at his back. The heads of the

lunchtime crowd of pedestrians spun around to stare.

Rhodes snorted, fighting laughter as he heard Wash’s footsteps hurrying to catch up.
“Yeah. Probably shouldn’t have yelled that quite so loudly,” Wash mused, falling into step

with Rhodes, who shrugged.

“Might get you a date.”

“Don’t need one,” Wash said mildly, tossing an arm over Rhodes’ shoulders. “I already have

a date for tonight.”

Rhodes shrugged off the arm with feigned irritation but the butterflies were back at it, stronger

than ever. He sighed.

“Aren’t you ready yet?” Rhodes grumped.
“Quit bitching,” Wash ordered from his bedroom.
Wandering around the living room, too restless to sit, Rhodes bit back a smile. “Too bad you

don’t have stairs. Kind of ruins your grand entrance.”

“Fuck off.”
Rhodes gave a snort of laughter and made another lap of the living room. He picked up an

electronics magazine from the coffee table and flipped through it without seeing a single word or
picture. He gave an exasperated grunt and tossed it back down.

As Carlos had predicted, their meeting with Mrs. Herrero that afternoon hadn’t gotten them

any new information. The woman was a wreck, almost hysterical with worry but not able to take
any time off from either of her two jobs for fear of being fired. With an anxious Carlos looking on,
Rhodes had told her they were working for the police, which hadn’t really been a lie, although it
wasn’t the exact truth either. She had accepted his story at face value and answered all their ques-
tions. She’d repeated the same thing they’d been hearing over and over—Miguel was a good kid,
he wouldn’t have run away.

“Let’s go then, Rhodie,” Wash said from behind him.
“About damn time…” Rhodes’ grumble trailed off as he turned and got his first look at his

partner.

His expression must have been telling, because Wash grinned. “That good, huh? Told you I’d

look hot tonight.”

Mouth too dry to swallow, Rhodes tried clearing his throat instead. “Whatever,” he rasped,

trying for nonchalance but not able to rip his eyes away from the man standing in front of him.
Wash’s smile slipped away and the two men stared at each other for a long moment until Rhodes
jerked his head to the side, breaking eye contact.

“Are you finally ready?” he growled, trying to take deep, slow breaths without being obvious

about it.

“Sure.” Wash’s cocky tone had slipped. “Are you…?”
“Fine! I’m fine.” And he would be. He just couldn’t look at how the black fabric of the shirt

stretched across Wash’s chest, highlighting each rounded groove and lift of muscle, or at the way
his hair, arranged to look so artfully mussed, fell over his forehead, a few strands tangling with the
long sweep of his eyelashes. Rhodes knew he definitely couldn’t look at anything below the waist
if he wanted to survive the evening with his sanity intact.

When Wash stayed silent, Rhodes blew out a hard breath and forced himself to meet his part-

ner’s gaze. “Okay, fine. You were right. You look hot.”

Wash’s grin snapped back. “Told ya. Would you even describe me as looking ‘fine’?”
“That’s enough—let’s go,” Rhodes groaned, heading toward the door.

Wash trailed after him. “You’re not too bad yourself.”
“Whatever.”
“No, seriously, man. You’ve got a great body—ripped. Nice tight ass.”
Rhodes flushed, resisting the urge to cover his butt with his hands. “Okay. Time to fuck off

now.”

“Wait,” Wash told him, grabbing Rhodes’ wrist and pulling him around to face him. “All kid-

ding aside, you’re a catch. Don’t let any guy tell you otherwise.”

Meeting Wash’s gaze, seeing the sincerity in his partner’s eyes, Rhodes couldn’t say a word.

He just nodded.

Wash laughed. “Let’s go turn some heads.”
“What’s so funny?” Rhodes asked, feeling his own smile tugging at his lips. Wash’s humor

was infectious.

“I’m going cock-hunting with you. It’s just so crazy. After all the times…” Wash’s glance fell

away as he trailed off.

“After all the times what?” Rhodes asked, his curiosity spiking as a flush darkened his part-

ner’s face.

Waving a hand, Wash dismissed the comment, still not meeting Rhodes’ eyes. “Nothing.” He

headed for the door. “Get a move on. We need to find some male tail!”

Rhodes snorted. “Watch out. You know the saying—once you go gay…”
“What?” Wash asked when Rhodes trailed off.
Shrugging, Rhodes admitted, “Couldn’t think of a rhyme.”
“With ‘gay’? C’mon, Rhodie, that’s an easy one. Um…how about ‘that’s how you’ll stay’?

Or ‘you won’t want any other way’ or…”

“‘With guys you’ll always play’?” Rhodes offered.
“Yes!” Wash almost bounced in his excitement. “Or ‘you’ll be forever fey’!”
Rhodes laughed. He couldn’t help it. Hooking an arm around Wash’s neck, he pulled his part-

ner in for a headlock hug.

Having Wash as his date was handy. They had barely joined the throng waiting to get into

the club when the bouncer jerked his head at them. Rhodes resisted pointing at his own chest in a
“Who? Me?” gesture and grabbed a distracted Wash, hauling him up to the front of the line.

“I’ve never seen so much leather,” Wash muttered.
Rhodes smirked at him. “Just wait ’til we get inside.”
“It gets worse?”
“Better, Wash,” Rhodes corrected as the bouncer unclipped the rope to let them through. “The

word is ‘better’.” He nodded and slipped a twenty to the burly man allowing them access. The
bouncer gave Wash a no-nonsense pat-down but his hands lingered while frisking Rhodes.

Interesting, Rhodes thought, holding the big blond’s gaze for a few seconds too long. This

could be potentially useful. If handled correctly, the bouncer might be willing to spill all kinds of
information about his boss.

A yank on his arm pulled Rhodes a few stumbling steps toward the door of the club.
“The hell?” He glared at Wash, who was glowering right back.
“Sorry, did I interrupt a moment?”
Rhodes yanked his partner in until his lips almost touched Wash’s ear. “No, dipshit,” he

hissed, “an opportunity. Employee? Information?” Pulling back, he saw Wash’s expression shift
from annoyance to comprehension and finally to embarrassment.

“Sorry,” Wash muttered, looking away as color touched the high edges of his cheekbones.
Glancing over his shoulder, Rhodes saw the bouncer staring at them, his eyes hot.
“No harm done,” Rhodes murmured in Wash’s ear, allowing himself a consoling stroke of his

palm against his partner’s shoulder blade. “By the look of it, he appreciated the show.” At Wash’s
confused glance, Rhodes clarified, “Me getting you…back in line.” It was his turn to blush as
Wash’s grin returned.

“Think I should get down on my knees?” Wash suggested wickedly. “Beg for your forgive-

ness?”

Holy fuck! Heat spread under Rhodes’ skin like a fever. “Maybe when we leave,” he tossed

back, amazed that he could speak at all. Inside, he was a gibbering idiot. Hauling open the door,
he almost shoved Wash into the club.

The music hit them so loud that Rhodes felt the bass line preempting his heart’s rhythm. Scan-

ning the writhing mass of partiers, the clichéd cage dancers hanging above the crowd and the
flickering lights tangling with the artificial fog, Rhodes felt the usual mix of insecurity and anti-
cipation, tempered by a surreal feeling. He glanced at the man next to him. He never thought he’d
be in a place like this with Wash. Daydreamed about it, maybe, but never believed it could actually
happen. He poked Wash to see if he was just a figment of his horny imagination.

“Ow!”
Rhodes saw his partner’s lips move but couldn’t hear anything. Wash felt real enough. He

jumped when Wash poked him back—hard.

“Bitch!” Rhodes rubbed his arm. Wash must have read his lips too, because he grinned.
As Rhodes looked around the club again, planning the best route for reconnaissance, Wash

nudged him—gently this time—and started making his incomprehensible hand signals. Rolling
his eyes, Rhodes just grabbed one of Wash’s wildly waving hands and hauled the man after him
into the crowd.

The surreal feeling hit Rhodes again as Wash’s rough palm rubbed against his own but he

pushed it to the back of his mind. It was time to work. Tugging Wash behind him, he cut through
the crowd, heading toward the raised bar curving into one corner of the club. One empty barstool
remained and he nudged Wash onto it before turning to catch the bartender’s eye and ordering a
couple of beers.

Wash was saying something.
“What?” Rhodes leaned in, tipping his head close to Wash’s face so he could hear.
“Guess I’m the bottom then,” Wash repeated.
Pressing back a grin, Rhodes moved his mouth close to his partner’s ear. “You bet your sweet

ass you are.”

Wash pulled back a little to look at Rhodes. “You’re…feisty tonight,” he yelled over the mu-

sic.

That brought Rhodes up short. He was acting oddly, almost giddy even, and he knew

why—he was pretending that this date with Wash was real.

“Hey!” Wash yelled, tugging Rhodes’ head down again so he could talk more quietly and still

be heard. “Don’t get all stiff on me now. I didn’t mean that in a bad way. It’s kind of…I mean,
well…”

Cocking an eyebrow, Rhodes looked at Wash curiously. Wash was never tongue-tied—and

was he actually blushing? Looking closer, Rhodes definitely saw a red flush darkening Wash’s
brown skin.

Fuck! Rhodes thought, blinking in amazement. Wash is embarrassed!
“Don’t look at me like that,” Wash laughed, swatting at his partner’s shoulder and jerking on

Rhodes’ collar to bring his ear to his mouth again. “This is fun, okay? Pretending to be your boy-
friend is really, I don’t know—exciting.” On the last word, Wash leaned in so his mouth brushed
Rhodes’ ear.

His heart thumping, Rhodes froze, trying to process his partner’s words and the brief caress.

Had it been accidental or not? Was Wash actually flirting with him or just getting into character
for the charade they were acting out tonight?

Either way, Rhodes knew he might not get another chance like this. The bartender slid their

beers toward them and Rhodes handed him a couple bills without looking away from Wash. Cup-
ping the back of his partner’s head, he tipped Wash’s face closer, switching their positions so his
lips could brush Wash’s ear.

“Let’s dance,” Rhodes rumbled, making sure that the breath of his words blew against the

sensitive inner shell of Wash’s ear. “Dance floor is central—a good place to check out the club.”
When Wash shivered beneath the touch, Rhodes forced back a triumphant grin.

Acting or not, his supposedly straight partner felt something—and Rhodes was going to take

crazy advantage of that fact.

Grabbing Wash’s hand again, Rhodes pulled him off the stool and headed for the dance floor.

As he weaved his way through the throng, he caught several interested looks and felt another
thrill shoot through him. Everyone was checking out Wash, his date, the guy going home with
Rhodes—

The thought brought him up short. Just because Wash was throwing himself into his role as a

gay guy didn’t mean anything would actually happen. Mentally shrugging as he pulled his partner
onto the packed dance floor, Rhodes figured he’d better make the most of this fake date. It was
probably the only one he’d get.

Turning toward Wash, Rhodes caught him by the hips, pulling his partner hard against him.

Even with the layers of clothes blocking the skin contact, Rhodes sucked in a breath as their groins
connected.

Wash’s eyes widened—then his lids lowered to half-mast.
A techno mix was playing. Normally Rhodes hated techno but he had to admit that it was

good music to grind to—and he did love to dance. As his hips rocked to the beat and his hands
slid around to cup Wash’s tight ass, Rhodes decided he especially loved dancing with Wash.

Leaning in, Wash yelled over the music, “Little grabby, aren’t you?” Despite his words, Wash

didn’t pull away. Instead, he matched the movement of Rhodes’ hips.

That, and the start of a smile on Wash’s face, gave Rhodes the courage to growl, “Thought

we agreed you’re my bitch tonight.” He squeezed Wash’s cheeks and laughed when his partner
jumped.

“Your bitch?” Wash yelped.
Rhodes just grinned at him. To his surprise, Wash shrugged with a long-suffering expression.
“Fine,” he gave in, catching Rhodes around the nape and tugging so their sweaty foreheads

rested against each other. “The things I do to make you happy.”

Their mouths were so close. Rhodes stared at the upward curve of Wash’s full lips and shifted,

desperate to feel his partner’s mouth against his…

Before their lips could meet, Wash’s eyes caught on something over Rhodes’ shoulder.
“Check it out,” Wash told him, giving the barest nod in the direction of his gaze. “There’s our

guy.”

Shit. Work. With a resigned sigh, Rhodes turned them both in a half-circle so he could see

who Wash had been looking at. It was Ness standing at the edge of the dance floor, although he
looked completely different from the photo on the wall at the youth center. Tonight, Ness was all
clubbed out, hair slicked back with enough product to supply a sorority house for a year, white
shirt unbuttoned to his navel and tight leather pants. Rhodes winced.

“That,” he told Wash, “should not be in leather. That is an affront to leather.”
Wash grinned. “Ness isn’t someone you’d pick up then?”
“Fuck no!” Staring at Wash with an utterly offended expression, Rhodes almost stopped dan-

cing at the horror of the idea. “How could you even think that?”

Laughing now, Wash nudged him back into motion. “Just shitting you, I promise. Although

it’d be handy. You wouldn’t even need lube. Just run a hand through his hair and you’re good to
go.”

“Jesus, Wash!” The image was positively nauseating. “That’s so fucking wrong.”
Wash was almost crying, he was laughing so hard. “C’mon,” he choked out. “Let’s ease our

way over.”

Still moving to the music, they worked their way across the dance floor to the side edged with

ropes cordoning off the entrance to the V.I.P. section. Ness was standing just behind the velvet
barrier, eyeing the crowd.

“Okay, Rhodie, now get his attention,” Wash ordered, just loud enough for Rhodes to hear.
“Me?” Rhodes yelped. “You get him to look.”
“You’re the one who goes to gay clubs—just do whatever you do to pick someone up when

you need to get laid.” Wash flipped his hand in a “go on” gesture.

Scowling, Rhodes argued, “What—sit at the bar drinking beer ’til someone approaches me?”
“Really?” Wash raised an eyebrow. “Anyone? Thought you were more discriminating than

that.”

“Depends.”

“On what?”
“How horny I am,” Rhodes admitted, smiling grudgingly at Wash’s bark of laughter.
“Fine,” Wash capitulated. “Let’s both just put on a show.” With that, he started to

dance—really dance. Rhodes blinked and then joined in, trying to top each of his partner’s moves
with a down-and-dirty gyration of his own. There was one twisting thrust that Wash did with his
hips, though, that Rhodes didn’t even try to imitate. He just stared and drooled.

When Rhodes snapped out of his lust-ridden daze, Wash had turned away from him. Yanking

his partner’s hips against his without thought, Rhodes ground his hardening cock against the tight
ass in front of him, sucking in a breath at the impact.

Wash tipped his head down and Rhodes took advantage of his exposed neck, licking the sweat

streaking his partner’s skin.

“Fuck!” Wash hissed at the contact.
Rhodes knew he should pull his mouth away but he couldn’t—Wash tasted too good. His

groan vibrated against his own lips when Wash tilted his head slightly, offering access to the sens-
itive skin behind his ear.

His heart beating out of his chest, Rhodes sucked at Wash’s earlobe then tugged on it with his

teeth. Gritting out another curse, Wash reached behind to grab his hip, pulling Rhodes’ erection
more tightly against his ass.

Panting now, Rhodes nibbled his way down the neck in front of him until he was blocked by

Wash’s collar. Growling in frustration, Rhodes closed his teeth around the vibrating tendon at the
side of Wash’s neck in retaliation for the other man not being naked.

“Excuse me.”
The voice was loud enough to bring Rhodes’ head up. He blinked, slowly returning to reality,

and saw the bouncer who had been guarding the V.I.P. area now standing in front of them. The
man pointed toward Ness, who was beckoning them over.

“Score,” Wash muttered, following the bouncer toward the velvet ropes. “Nice work.”
Rhodes just grunted. He didn’t care about Ness or their case or anything right now—anything

except for dragging Wash off to some semi-private corner and fucking his brains out.

The bouncer unhooked the rope to allow Wash through. As Rhodes followed close behind,

the burly man stopped him with a hand on the chest.

“Just him,” the bouncer said, nodding toward Wash.
Rhodes glared at the man holding him back, pressing against the restraining hand. They were

eye-to-eye, almost equally broad across the shoulders, and the bouncer began to look a little
nervous.

“It’s okay,” Wash spoke up, nodding when Rhodes looked over. Reluctantly, Rhodes stepped

back as Ness ushered Wash into the V.I.P. area, barely managing to hold back when Ness’ hand
brushed down his partner’s back and landed on his ass.

Forcing his fists to unclench, Rhodes moved back another step as the bouncer watched him

warily. When his partner disappeared behind the closing door, every instinct told him to rush in
after him, drag him out of Ness’ greasy grip and get the hell out of that club. Instead, he skirted

the dance floor and found an empty stool at the bar. Staring at the V.I.P. entrance that had just
swallowed Wash, Rhodes ordered a shot.

“Where’s your sweet baby boy?” a growly voice asked.
Rhodes turned his head to see the blond bouncer from the front who had let them bypass the

line. In answer, he jerked his head toward the roped-off door.

The bouncer laughed. “Mr. Ness got his claws into him? Good luck getting him back.” He

leaned against the bar, his hip pressed against Rhodes’ knee.

Twisting his shoulders in an irritated shrug, Rhodes grumbled, “Who’s watching the door?”
“I’m on break—I don’t give a fuck.” The bouncer smirked at him. “But thanks for your con-

cern.”

With another shrug, Rhodes focused on the V.I.P. entrance again.
“Hey, it’s his loss,” the other man said, nudging between Rhodes’ knees. “If he wants to give

up a big, strong, macho guy like you for Ness…”

Rhodes forced his attention back to the bouncer. Wash was a big boy and could take care of

himself. This was Rhodes’ opportunity to get some information. “What’s your name?” he barked.
Even in the poor light, Rhodes could see how the bouncer’s eyes dilated at the commanding tone.
This was going to be almost too easy.

“Trevor.”
“You’re right, Trevor,” Rhodes growled. “Fuck him. How long d’you still have on your

break?” He stood up, crowding Trevor back against the bar.

Ducking his head, Trevor’s voice shook a little as he answered. “N-not long. To do much, I

mean. If that’s what you meant…?”

The bouncer peeked up, all his earlier bravado gone, his blue eyes bright with excitement and

nerves. Rhodes felt an immediate pang of guilt but he smothered it quickly. He wasn’t going to do
anything bad to Trevor. He’d just see what the bouncer knew. If Rhodes needed to make out with
him a little to get that information…well, that was a sacrifice he was willing to make for his job.

Besides, Ness was probably halfway down Wash’s throat by now.
The thought made him growl and press his hips against the bulge of Trevor’s erection. Lean-

ing in close, Rhodes could feel the bouncer’s quick puffs of breath against his throat.

“‘Not long’ is better than nothing, right?” Rhodes murmured in the other man’s ear. Trevor

nodded jerkily. Backing up a few steps, Rhodes gestured for Trevor to lead the way but the boun-
cer just followed, stopping when Rhodes stopped.

“Let’s go,” Rhodes ordered, giving the other man a sharp smack on one ass cheek. Trevor

jumped, his startled expression so hungry that Rhodes’ stomach clenched in an unexpected surge
of lust. Catching Rhodes’ hand, Trevor pulled him around the end of the bar and through a door.
Once the door swung shut behind them, they were alone in a dimly lit hallway. With the music
muffled, their breathing sounded loud.

Catching Trevor by both arms, Rhodes shoved him up against the wall and kicked his feet

wide.

“Spread ’em,” he growled.
Trevor gasped. “You a cop?” he asked, sounding more eager than worried.

“Used to be,” Rhodes told him, using only one hand to pin both of Trevor’s wrists against the

wall above his head. “Why? That turn you on?”

“Yeah,” Trevor admitted, dropping his gaze shyly. “Kinda does.”
“Yeah?” Rhodes found the bulge of Trevor’s cock with his free hand and squeezed. “How

’bout when a cop does this?”

“Holy fuck!” Trevor choked out, twisting his hips into Rhodes’ grip.
Dropping his head toward the other man’s mouth, Rhodes hesitated. “I shouldn’t be worried

about my…friend, should I?”

“What?” Trevor sounded confused, his eyes fixed on Rhodes’ lips.
“Your boss—is he some sick fuck who’ll hurt my friend?”
Trevor’s eyes shot to the side and he bit his bottom lip. “If I say maybe, are you going to

stop?”

Jerking back a few inches, Rhodes stared at the bouncer. “Do I need to pull him out now?”
Trevor shook his head vehemently. “Ness won’t do anything in there with people around. Just

don’t let your friend go home with him.”

Rhodes released the hard cock pressing against his palm so that he could run a gentle thumb

down Trevor’s cheek. “Have some personal experience with that?” he asked quietly.

Although he shook his head again, Trevor wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Naw. I’m not his type.

I’ve just heard things.”

Touching his lips to the corner of Trevor’s mouth, Rhodes felt more than heard the other

man’s sigh.

“Good,” Rhodes murmured between light kisses along Trevor’s jaw. “I wouldn’t want you to

be hurt.” With that, he found Trevor’s mouth.

Taking his time, Rhodes explored the contours of the other man’s lips, the smooth, hard sur-

face of his teeth, the slick, strong tongue, enjoying the kiss despite the fact that Trevor didn’t taste
quite as good as Wash. The thought brought a flash of irritation and Rhodes kissed the bouncer
harder, trying to banish the memory of how Wash’s skin had felt beneath his mouth.

Trevor was trembling under the kiss, adding to Rhodes’ guilt. Here was a gorgeous, sweet,

gay man, shaking from his touch, and Rhodes had to pine for his all-too-straight partner.

With a frustrated groan, Rhodes pulled back, releasing the other man’s wrists. Obviously con-

fused by the withdrawal, Trevor stared at him with lust-dazed eyes as his arms fell back to his
sides.

“When’s your break over?” Rhodes asked, trying to cover the real reason he’d stopped. The

all-too-stupid reason named Wash. When the words penetrated, the bouncer glanced at his watch.

“Shit!” Trevor yelped. “Gotta go!”
Rhodes stepped back to let him by but the bouncer hesitated and turned.
“Can I…maybe call you or something?” he mumbled, his eyes dropping to the floor between

them.

Cupping the other man’s jaw, Rhodes leaned in for a quick, hard kiss. As his lips left Trevor’s,

he slipped a business card into the bouncer’s pants pocket, using the opportunity for a final brush
of his finger against Trevor’s fabric-guarded cock.

“I’d like that,” Rhodes told him, pulling away reluctantly. Trevor was no Wash but he was

definitely cute, especially those eyes, so blue and so shy after the veneer of cockiness was stripped
away.

Trevor grinned. “Good. Okay then. I’ll call you.” He continued to stand unmoving.
“Go on—back to work,” Rhodes barked in his best drill sergeant imitation.
“Yes sir!” Trevor cast a final hungry look over his shoulder as he slipped back into the club.
After a minute, Rhodes followed him. Planting himself on the same stool he had vacated, he

settled in to watch the V.I.P. door.

Chapter Four

It was a good hour later before Wash emerged. Ness was draped possessively over him, ob-

viously trying to tug Wash back into the V.I.P. area. Smiling, Wash slipped out of his grip, calling
something back over his shoulder to Ness before moving toward the exit.

Rhodes stayed on his bar stool, his gaze on Ness, half-expecting the man to chase after Wash.

Instead, face hardening, Ness watched him disappear into the crowd. When Wash was lost in the
mass of people, Ness turned to the bouncer and said a few words close to his ear. The bouncer
nodded and opened the door for Ness to reenter the V.I.P. section.

Slipping off his seat, Rhodes dug out a few bills for the bartender and made his way to the

main door. As he let himself out, the relative quiet of the street was a relief. Turning from his post,
Trevor saw him and grinned before quickly erasing his smile, replacing it with the aloof cool that
was probably more bouncer-appropriate. Walking past Trevor on his way to the street, Rhodes al-
lowed his hand to brush across the other man’s ass. When he glanced back, Trevor was watching
him, his eyes narrow and hot.

“You want to wait around ’til your new friend gets off, go ahead.”
Rhodes jumped at the sound of Wash’s voice. His partner was leaning against a newspaper

dispenser, scowling.

“You okay?” Rhodes asked, moving closer, his gaze on the other man’s disgruntled face.
“Fine,” Wash bit off. “Let’s go.” He walked a few steps ahead of Rhodes toward where the

car was parked, a block from the club.

“We can grab a cab if you’ve been drinking,” Rhodes told the stiff back in front of him. “I’ve

had a few shots, so I’m not good to drive.”

Wash gave a short shake of his head. “I wish I’d been drinking,” he muttered. At the car, he

held his hand out for the keys. Instead of tossing them to him, Rhodes walked up and handed the
car keys to Wash while catching his partner by the shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Rhodes asked, giving Wash a little shake.
“Nothing. Let’s go.” Jerking out of the other man’s grip, Wash turned to yank open the

driver’s door. “And just because we put on that little skit in there doesn’t mean you can feel me
up whenever you’d like.”

Rhodes took an unsteady step backward, feeling like he’d just been punched in the throat.

“Fuck you,” he finally managed to choke out. Blindly turning away from the car, he started walk-
ing. He wasn’t sure where he was going—just away.

“Shit,” Wash muttered. Rhodes heard footsteps hurrying behind him and then Wash grabbed

his arm. Rhodes stopped but didn’t look at his partner.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Wash told him, giving his arm a squeeze before releasing him. Rhodes still

didn’t move, couldn’t look. “C’mon, Rhodie, it’s been a really fucked-up night. Can’t we just go
home?”

Blowing out a hard breath, Rhodes braced himself before turning to face Wash. “Fucked up

how? Did that asshole do something to you?”

Wash shook his head. “No. Let’s go—we can’t talk here.”
Rhodes relented and they both walked stiffly back to the car. Silence hung heavily around

them for the first few minutes of their drive.

“I’m really sorry, Rhodie,” Wash said again. “I didn’t mean it. I was just venting.”
“Whatever.” Rhodes stared through the windshield at the artificially lit night. “Doesn’t matter.

What’d you find out?”

“That Ness is a sick fuck.”
Something in Wash’s voice made Rhodes look over. His partner’s fingers had tightened

around the steering wheel until they glowed white.

“What’d he do?” Rhodes growled. He knew he shouldn’t have let Wash go into that V.I.P.

section alone. Fuck.

“To me—nothing. Well,” Wash corrected himself, “grabbed my ass a lot and kept feeding me

drinks that I poured into the mini-fountain when his back was turned. Major waste of good vodka,
but this is not a guy I trust to bring me drinks.” He shuddered. “Ness is a slimy one—and I’m not
just talking about his hair.”

“Tell me,” Rhodes ordered.
“I…um,” Wash glanced over, his face uncertain, “sort of implied you liked little boys.”
Rhodes choked. “You said what?”
“Just to see what his reaction would be,” Wash explained quickly, making patting motions in

the air as if trying to soothe Rhodes. “He was asking about you.”

“If he’s so fascinated, he should’ve invited me into V.I.P.,” Rhodes grumbled. “He looked a

hell of a lot more interested in you.”

“Well yeah.” A hint of Wash’s usual grin was returning. “Who wouldn’t be?”
Rhodes lifted a fist to pop his partner on the shoulder but reconsidered and lowered his hand.
Wash sighed. “Seriously, Rhodie, I didn’t mean what I said before. When we were dancing

and…messing around, it was fun, you know? And, well…pretty hot too. But after hanging out

with Ness for a couple hours, I just feel so dirty. All I wanted to do was get out of there and take a
shower, see if I could get my skin to stop crawling, and I see you flirting with the cute bouncer…”

After regarding Wash’s profile for a few seconds, Rhodes commented, “Yeah, he is cute, isn’t

he?”

“Fucker.” Wash reached over to punch Rhodes’ shoulder and laughed. “I’m cuter.”
“Eh.” Holding a hand up and twisting it from side to side in a “so-so” gesture, Rhodes bit

back a smile as Wash punched his arm again. “Okay, fine, you’re cuter. Now what’d Ness say?”

“He noticed you were pretty protective,” Wash explained, “so he assumed you were my boy-

friend. I told him that we hooked up once in a while but that you were really into younger guys,
as in much younger guys.”

Rhodes winced. “Nice.”
With a shrug, Wash apologized. “Sorry. It was all I could think of on short notice. He got all

interested at that—his eyes lit up and he started asking questions. When he asked what you did,
I said ‘business’ and then started wiggling around like I was nervous, so of course he asked what
kind, and I was babbly enough and vague enough that he’s pretty sure you’re a drug kingpin or a
smuggler or some kind of badass.”

“That’ll work,” Rhodes told him, nodding thoughtfully.
“That’s what I thought. Ness wants to talk to you.” Wash pulled into a parking space on the

street across from Rhodes’ building. “I’m so fucking tired—can I just crash here?”

“Of course,” Rhodes said easily as he slid out of his seat, although his heart beat faster. They

crossed the street to the main entrance in silence. Rhodes let them both in and they climbed the
stairs to his apartment.

“I know we have nothing on him,” Wash said as he flopped onto the couch, “but I just know

Ness did something to those kids. He’s mixed up in this somehow.”

“Okay. So this is good. We have a suspect—or at least a person of interest. Tomorrow we’ll

dig up everything we can on Ness, see if Gomez has anything else she can contribute and then I’ll
set up the meet.” Rhodes moved into the open kitchen. “You want a drink?”

“Christ, yeah,” Wash breathed, leaning his head against the sofa back. “I’ve been dying for

something all night. I just knew if it came from that slimy fuckhead, it’d be roofied.”

“One non-roofied whiskey, coming right up.” As he poured the drinks, Rhodes tossed over

his shoulder, “So why do you think Ness wants to meet with me? Is he going to sell me a kid or
buy you from me?”

Snorting a laugh, Wash retorted, “I’m thinking he wants me for free. Cheap bastard. My

money’s on him selling you a kid. Probably a fourteen-year-old Latino boy named Miguel.”

“Jesus,” Rhodes muttered, walking over to the couch. He nudged Wash, who opened one eye

and accepted the drink. “How does that work? These are teenagers, not babies. How’s he keeping
these kids quiet and obedient?”

Wash shrugged. “Drugs? Threats? Shame? Soundproofed rooms and locked doors? The

banker found with Mia was from Ohio—he was probably going to bring her back there before he
decided to shoot her instead.”

“Yeah, what was that all about?” wondered Rhodes, taking a drink, enjoying the burn as the

alcohol tracked down his throat.

Wash shrugged, closing his eyes. “Who knows what went on in that sick fuck’s mind? There’s

got to be a lot of guilt involved in messing up a kid that badly.”

Glancing at the man next to him, Rhodes finished off his drink and pushed to his feet.

“C’mon, you’re almost asleep. You can crash here but I have to warn you, this is the most uncom-
fortable couch I’ve ever tried to sleep on.”

Opening one eye, Wash asked, “So what’s choice number two?”
Although he tried to keep his face expressionless, Rhodes felt heat creep up his neck and into

his cheeks. “My bed’s a king, if you don’t mind sharing.”

Wash’s other eye opened. “Does ‘sharing’ a bed mean we’re having sex?”
“You can, if you want,” Rhodes tossed over his shoulder as he headed to the bathroom. “Just

don’t wake me up.”

Wash’s startled bark of laughter followed him down the hall.

This had been a bad idea. Despite his exhaustion and the drinks at the bar and the final whis-

key of the night, Rhodes lay wide awake, his cock as hard as a rock. He didn’t have any paja-
mas—normally he slept naked—so he had left his boxer briefs on before crawling into bed.

He lay on his side, hugging the edge, not wanting to accidentally touch Wash but, at the same

time, wanting to touch him so badly he ached with it. Wash was sprawled on his back wearing
only his underwear, taking up his entire half of the bed as well as part of Rhodes’.

Rhodes snorted quietly. He was beginning to feel like a Victorian virgin, clutching the edge

of the mattress as if it were his virtue. Rolling carefully onto his back and then to his right side,
facing Wash, Rhodes stretched out his legs and tried to ignore his throbbing erection.

“Can I tell you something?” Wash asked.
Rhodes jumped. He’d thought the other man was asleep. “Sure,” he croaked, flushing in the

darkness at the rough sound of his own voice.

“I’m…um, I’m not exactly…” Wash trailed off.
After a long silence, Rhodes prodded, “What?”
“I’m not exactly straight,” he said, the words leaving his mouth in a rush.
“What?!” Rhodes’ body contracted as Wash’s words sank in and he sat up, staring down at the

dim outline of Wash’s body. Twisting around, he jerked the chain on the bedside lamp, flooding
the room with light.

“Ow!” Wash covered his eyes. “Fuck, man!”
“Quit whining and talk,” Rhodes snarled, not in the mood for offering any sympathy. “Tell

me why the fuck you put me through all that the other night, making me think you were disgusted,
that you hated me, when you’re fucking gay too!”

Sitting up, Wash stared at him in horror. “I was never disgusted. I told you that it bothered me

that you kept it secret, that’s all. Thought you didn’t trust me. I got it when you said you’d never
come out before.”

“So why didn’t you say anything then? Maybe something like, ‘Hey Rhodie, so you’re gay.

What a coincidence—I am too!’ Do you know how many fucking nights I’ve lain in bed, wide
awake, thinking about—” Rhodes clamped his lips shut before he spilled too much.

“I don’t think I’m totally gay,” Wash hurried to explain, shifting on the mattress as he stared

down at the comforter. “More bi, I guess. I mean, I’ve had girlfriends. I’m attracted to women but
sometimes…men turn me on too.” He shot Rhodes a quick glance. “Maybe it’s just that I’m really
slutty.”

Rhodes sighed, a little calmer, although anger and hurt still rolled beneath his skin. “You

didn’t answer. Why didn’t you say anything?”

With a shrug, Wash said, “At the high school I went to, hitting on some guy in the locker

room was a good way to get your balls sliced off. I kept my eyes off the other guys’ asses, dated
girls and hooked up a few times with random guys who were just as eager to keep it secret as
I was. Never had a boyfriend or anything. I mean, I’ve never even fucked the same guy twice.
Guess keeping it a secret got to be a habit. When you came out to me, I was just so shocked. I kept
expecting you to laugh and admit it was a joke.”

“Yeah,” Rhodes snorted. “Real funny joke.”
“I just couldn’t believe it was real,” Wash admitted. “After all the times I’d thought about

you…”

Rhodes studied Wash’s averted profile for a few moments. “You thought about me?”
Color darkening his cheeks, Wash flicked a quick glance at Rhodes, his mouth quirking.

“Maybe. You ever think about me?”

Cupping Wash’s jaw in his palm, Rhodes tilted his partner’s face until he could meet his eyes.

“Just all the fucking time,” Rhodes growled, leaning in as his hand slid behind Wash’s neck. “At
the office, in the car on a stakeout, shopping for groceries…” He bore Wash back until they were
both lying on the bed, his body stretched over Wash’s, their faces just inches apart. “But mostly in
bed, jerking off.”

The small sound from Wash was muffled as Rhodes’ lips met his. The kiss was hesitant,

unsure for only a second before Rhodes crushed their mouths together. His tongue delved into
Wash’s mouth, frantically claiming him as his own. Rhodes closed his eyes, stunned and aroused
and terrified that this moment wasn’t real, that this was one of a thousand dreams about his partner,
destined to dissolve as soon as he opened his eyes.

Despite Rhodes’ fears, Wash felt real beneath him. Real and hard, his hands clutching him

back tightly, his fingers digging into the muscles of Rhodes’ back. Ending the kiss, Rhodes pulled
back and forced himself to open his eyes. To his relief, Wash was really there, staring at him from
just a few inches away, his eyes hungry and hot. A rush of pure happiness flooded Rhodes as he
lowered his mouth once more.

Kissing Wash was incredible. Rhodes nipped at him, lightly biting those lips that drove him

crazy every time he looked at his partner. When Wash’s hands moved to Rhodes’ head and tried
to yank him down into a harder kiss, Rhodes shifted down so he could lick and suck Wash’s neck.

“That’s good too,” Wash moaned, his fingers flexing on Rhodes’ skull.
Christ, Wash tasted good, sweet and salty. Rhodes wondered how he’d managed to get off the

dance floor without throwing Wash down and fucking him. He pressed his lips to the dip above

Wash’s collarbone, feeling the rise and fall of his panting breaths before working his way back up
his neck.

Rhodes sucked at his earlobe, teasing it with his teeth and brushed his lips across the sensitive

skin beneath, loving every eager sound that Wash made as he tilted his head to allow Rhodes better
access.

“I’ve never kissed a guy before,” Wash rasped. “Guess I’ve been missing out.”
It took a second for the admission to register. Once it did, Rhodes pulled away, closed his

eyes and bit back a curse. “What are you saying?” he managed to ask somewhat calmly, opening
his eyes.

“What?” Wash blinked at him, looking honestly confused. “I’m saying that you’re the first

guy I’ve kissed.”

With a groan, Rhodes rolled off Wash onto his back, covering his face with his arm. His brain

struggled to function. “You just said you’d hooked up with other guys.”

“I have,” Wash explained, “but we didn’t kiss or anything. It was just down-and-dirty, get-

the-job-done kind of sex.”

Lowering his arm, Rhodes saw that Wash had turned onto his side to face him. “What exactly

have you done?”

With a devilish grin, Wash purred, “You want me to talk dirty to you?”
“I don’t mean…well, yeah, I do, but I didn’t mean that.” Rhodes shook his head, trying to

bring his mind back from the tempting place Wash’s words had led it. “I need to know what I’m
dealing with here so I don’t hurt you. You been fucked before?”

Scooting closer, Wash ran his fingers across Rhodes’ chest, tangling in the hair and tugging.
“Wash.” Rhodes flattened his partner’s distracting hand against his chest.
“Yeah, a couple times,” Wash finally answered. His hand trapped, he leaned in to close his

mouth around one of Rhodes’ nipples.

“Jesus Christ!” Rhodes almost flew off the bed.
Raising his head, Wash gave him a smile way too smug for Rhodes’ taste. With a growl,

Rhodes rolled him back over to their original position with Wash underneath him.

“I liked fucking better, though.”
After a second, Rhodes realized that Wash was still answering his question. “‘Liked’?” he re-

peated with a cocked eyebrow. “Past tense?”

Wash’s eyes flickered away before coming back to Rhodes. “The whole thing with that boun-

cer…you know, getting me back in line?”

Pretty sure he knew what was coming, Rhodes’ cock surged. “Yeah?” he barely managed to

grunt.

“And then in the club, when you were dragging me around, calling me your bitch…”
Wash was going to kill him with this. Rhodes barely kept his eyes from rolling back in his

head. Unable to say anything, he just nodded a silent command to continue.

“For some reason, you bossing me around made me hard as a rock.”

Just the words almost made Rhodes come. Gritting his teeth, he rested his forehead on Wash’s

shoulder for an endless moment, concentrating on breathing. When he could manage talking
again, he raised his head.

“Okay then,” Rhodes growled. “You’re going to get fucked.”
“’Bout time.” Wash barely got the words out before Rhodes was kissing him again. This time,

it was as if a barrier had been removed, as if the dam had swept away and the river flowed uncon-
tained. This was going to happen—a year’s worth of fantasies were about to come true.

With a growl, Rhodes twisted both hands in Wash’s silky hair, pulling his head back, exposing

his vulnerable throat. Rhodes kissed his neck, licked, sucked and nipped as the vibrations from
Wash’s moans moved through his throat to Rhodes’ lips. Working his mouth back up, Rhodes bit
at his partner’s lips, drawing hungry, pleading sounds from Wash. The rougher Rhodes got, the
more frantic Wash sounded.

Pulling back with a small, savage smile, Rhodes rasped, “Like it rough, do you?”
His eyes huge and hungry, Wash could only nod, his teeth catching the edge of his swollen

bottom lip. Rhodes liked that look, liked that he’d caused that look. Sliding lower on Wash’s body,
he caught one of the other man’s nipples between his lips.

It was Wash’s turn to grab Rhodes’ head. Sucking the small nub, Rhodes closed his teeth in

just the threat of a bite. Wash cried out, arching his back, and Rhodes released him, soothing the
abused flesh with a stroke of his tongue before tracing a damp line to Wash’s other nipple.

He sucked and licked at it, feeling Wash quivering beneath him in anticipation of the pinch of

his teeth. Rhodes smiled against Wash’s chest and kept his mouth gentle, lips and tongue teasing.

“Do it,” Wash hissed, pulling Rhodes’ head closer. “Fucking do it!”
The plea in his voice made Rhodes take pity on him and he nipped at the straining point of his

nipple. Wash’s hips lurched up and he ground his erection against Rhodes’ stomach, only the thin
layer of his boxers separating skin from skin. The feel of Wash’s cotton-wrapped cock reminded
Rhodes that there were even better things to come.

Running his lips over the ridges of Wash’s abdomen, Rhodes paused to dip his tongue into the

depression of his bellybutton, loving the way his stomach muscles jerked in response. He knelt
between Wash’s knees and hooked his fingers into the waistband of his partner’s underwear. Wash
raised his hips and Rhodes stripped the fabric down until it tangled around his thighs.

Wash was beautiful. His cock was perfect, long and straight, the tip weeping with need.

Wash’s brown skin, slick with sweat, shone dark gold against the white comforter. Wash’s chest
heaved in an effort to breathe, the muscles working just under the surface.

Unable to resist touching any longer, Rhodes mentally promised himself that he’d look his

fill at Wash afterward. For now, he had to feel him.

He wrapped his hand around Wash’s cock, watching his face. The look of unbearable ecstasy

on his partner was as arousing as the feel of rigid, hot flesh beneath his fingers. Rhodes closed his
eyes, not able to look and keep his control intact. The darkness just magnified the feel of Wash’s
erection, the way it throbbed and burned against his fingers.

“Rhodie.” Wash’s rasp brought Rhodes’ eyes open. “If you don’t fuck me in the next five

seconds, I swear I’m going to kill you.”

If he thought he could hold off, Rhodes would have tortured Wash some more. As it was

though, five seconds sounded about right. He released Wash and slid off the bed. Wash made a
protesting sound.

“Just getting us both naked,” Rhodes reassured him in a breathless growl, stripping off Wash’s

boxer briefs before yanking down his own. As he stepped out of the fabric tangled around his
ankles, Rhodes jerked open the drawer in his bed stand. The lube was easy to grab but the con-
doms had worked their way to the back of the drawer after Rhodes’ long dry spell, so he had to
dig for those. The panicked thought that he was out crossed his mind, that this wasn’t going to
happen after all, but then his fingers closed around a packet.

With enormous relief, he tore it open with his teeth and rolled the condom on. As he squeezed

lube into his hand, Rhodes noticed that Wash was watching with hungry eyes. Widening his
stance, Rhodes closed his fist around the end of his shaft and spread the lube to the base with slow,
slippery fingers. His show was rewarded by a needy moan from Wash.

“Turn over,” Rhodes ordered, his voice rough. Wash obeyed, shifting to his hands and knees.

Moving to kneel behind his partner, Rhodes’ breath caught at the sight of Wash’s round ass
smoothly curving into the line of his back. For a second, he was almost afraid to touch him, as if
Rhodes’ hand could mar the perfection that was Wash.

“Fuck me!” Wash pleaded and Rhodes grinned, the spell broken. With one lube-slick finger,

Rhodes nudged at the puckered opening of Wash’s ass, feeling it open up and allow him in. Wash
groaned as the digit penetrated and Rhodes paused.

“No, it’s good! Keep going!” Wash gasped, arching his back and thrusting to impale himself

farther. Reassured, Rhodes nudged in another inch, sweat prickling the back of his neck at the
tight squeeze of Wash’s body around his finger. If having just a finger inside him felt this good, the
thought of having his cock buried deep in Wash’s ass made Rhodes grit his teeth around a groan.

He moved his finger in and out until the tight grip of Wash’s ass eased a little. Nudging in a

second digit, Rhodes tried to go slowly, to keep from grabbing Wash’s hips and jamming his cock
deep into his body. Sucking in a harsh breath, Rhodes fought the need down, reminding himself
that, although it might not be Wash’s first time, it was damn close to it. Twisting and spreading his
fingers, he felt Wash’s hole gradually relax around the intruders.

“Okay?” he grunted.
“Yeah,” Wash said, shoving his hips back to meet the plunge of Rhodes’ fingers. “Fuck me

now, please!”

A roar filled Rhodes’ ears as he slid his fingers free and seized Wash’s hips. The head of his

cock nudged the tight hole and Rhodes paused, breathing hard, trying to calm down enough to
take it slowly.

“Jesus Christ, just fuck me already!” Wash sobbed, fighting against the restraint of Rhodes’

hands. “You’re driving me crazy!”

Gritting his teeth, Rhodes pushed forward, feeling Wash’s hole stretch to take him in. When

just the head was lodged inside, Rhodes sucked in air, his control shredding with each clench and
release of Wash’s ass.

“Okay?” Rhodes managed to ask.
“Yeah,” Wash gasped. “Hurts—but that just makes it better.”

Rhodes choked on a laugh. “You crazy motherfucker,” he said fondly. His hips started mov-

ing, tiny thrusts that buried him a little bit deeper each time. Wash bucked back against him, trying
to drive Rhodes’ cock deeper into his ass.

Tightening his fingers on Wash’s hips, Rhodes held him still with some effort. “Settle,”

Rhodes gritted. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Wash insisted, still fighting his grip. “I need you to fuck me! Please, Rhodie?”
The pleading tone broke Rhodes and he drove in, filling Wash’s ass with a single thrust. Bur-

ied balls deep, he paused, overwhelmed. The heat of Wash’s body enveloped his cock, gripping
his entire length with a mind-blowing squeeze. The pleasure washed over him and Rhodes was
pretty sure he’d never felt anything so amazing in his entire life. He wished Wash could be feeling
exactly the same way.

Releasing one of Wash’s hips, Rhodes reached for his partner’s cock but Wash grabbed his

wrist.

“Don’t,” Wash told him, panting. “So close.”
“Let me finish you then,” Rhodes offered but Wash shook his head.
“Wanna come with you.”
Rhodes felt like a hand had just gripped his heart. He opened his mouth but then closed it

again, unable to say a word. All he could do was grip Wash’s hips and give him the fucking he’d
begged for.

The pressure, the friction as he slid in and out of Wash’s ass had Rhodes on the edge of com-

ing in just a few strokes. Gritting his teeth, he fought it off, not wanting this to end. This might be
the only chance he’d get with Wash.

The thought sobered him and he regained his rhythm, thrusting deeply into Wash’s gripping

depths and then retreating. He plunged faster and faster, the tight squeeze around his shaft making
it impossible to last long.

Wash cried out as he came, his ass clamping around Rhodes’ cock. It was too much. Rhodes’

hips rocked forward a final time and, deep in his partner’s convulsing ass, Rhodes exploded.

Spasm after spasm shook him. As Wash went boneless and melted flat beneath him, Rhodes

wrapped his arms around his partner and followed him down to the bed. He rested there, not sure
where he ended and Wash began. Rhodes smiled, slow and sleepy. It was how it should be.

Rhodes woke surrounded by warmth. He allowed himself to slowly float to awareness, en-

joying the trailing ends of a rare, deep sleep.

“Never pegged you as a spooner.” Wash’s raspy, amused voice pulled him out of his happy

doze. Growling in protest, Rhodes buried his face against the hard shoulder in front of him.

After a few seconds, reality hit him, waking him completely. Warm body. Wash’s voice.

Spooning. Rhodes’ eyes popped open.

The first thing he saw was the smooth, brown skin of Wash’s nape, disappearing under the

mussed tangle of black hair. Rhodes realized that his arm was draped over the other man, holding
Wash’s back snugly against his front, and that one of Rhodes’ legs was hooked over his partner’s
thighs. Wash was right—Rhodes was spooning with a vengeance.

“Sorry,” he rumbled, not quite able to make himself move. This might be the last chance he

had to be naked and plastered against Wash. He just wanted to enjoy it for a few more seconds.

“Hey, no worries. With women, I never get to be the little spoon. I always have to be the big

spoon. It’s a refreshing change, being the spoonee.” Wash sounded highly entertained and Rhodes
relaxed a little.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, trailing a line of kisses along the side of Wash’s neck. He

felt his partner give a small shrug.

“Um, a little sore,” Wash admitted.
Rhodes winced. “Sorry,” he murmured before tracing the edge of Wash’s ear with his tongue.

Despite the pang of guilt at causing Wash discomfort, he thrilled at the shiver that ran through the
other man at his touch.

“Not sure how I feel about another round, buddy.” There was enough tension under the

breathlessness in Wash’s voice to make Rhodes pull his head back. “I mean, since we work to-
gether and everything, it might not be such a good idea to keep…you know.”

“Fine,” Rhodes grunted, masking the flash of hurt that ran through him. There it was—the

brush-off. It’d been a one-time deal and now Rhodes was back to being his “buddy”. At least he
had the memories of last night. Rhodes rolled his eyes at the clichéd thought. Besides, he didn’t
want memories—he wanted Wash. Over and over.

Rhodes set his mouth. Just because Wash said it was a one-night deal didn’t mean he couldn’t

try to change his mind. With that thought, he flipped Wash over onto his back. His partner’s wide
eyes stared up at him, startled.

“Fine,” Rhodes told him. “No more sex. Can I have one thing though?”
“What?” Wash’s question was wary.
He almost chickened out. It was easier to be brave when he wasn’t staring Wash in the face.

“Could I kiss you?”

Wash bit the corner of his bottom lip and Rhodes felt his erection surge at the sight of those

white teeth nibbling at the lush fullness of his mouth. “Never mind,” Rhodes muttered.

“No.” Wash caught him before he could roll off. “Go ahead.”
“Yeah?” Rhodes’ heart was about to explode from his chest, it was beating so hard and fast.

It was crazy to be so excited about a kiss, but it was somehow more intimate than fucking. Plus it
was step one in keeping Wash in his bed.

“Sure.” Wash’s eyes dipped away shyly but a shadow of his usual grin touched his mouth.

“What’s one more kiss after last night?”

Rhodes dove in before Wash had time to change his mind. When their lips touched, Rhodes

couldn’t hold back a moan. Wash tasted so fucking good.

Wash felt amazing too. Rhodes wanted to keep the kiss light, to savor each second, each sen-

sation, but when Wash’s hand found the back of his shorn skull, pulling him closer, Rhodes lost it.

Nipping at Wash’s full lips, he demanded entrance. The kiss became less of an exploration

and more of a ravaging. Rhodes worked his tongue between his partner’s lips and teeth, taking
Wash’s mouth as if he owned it. At Wash’s groan, Rhodes hesitated, not sure if it was a sound of
pleasure or rejection, but the hand on his head tightened, increasing the pressure.

The kiss was so good that Rhodes’ brain almost exploded. Without releasing Wash’s mouth,

he dropped his hips, pressing his groin against the other man’s, sucking in a hard breath when he
felt Wash’s cock rub along his own.

Wash was hard.
The realization almost made Rhodes whimper. Instead, he tore his mouth from Wash’s, tuck-

ing his forehead against the bed next to the other man’s head, breathing in sucked-in gasps.

“You’re stopping?” Wash asked, breathless. Disappointment rang in his voice.
Rhodes could only groan against Wash’s neck, incapable of forming actual words. His half-

assed plan to seduce Wash had ricocheted, hitting Rhodes square in the groin. He just wasn’t
meant to be a tease.

Sliding off Wash, he propped himself up on his side. Wash followed suit so they were facing

each other.

“Thought you were sore.” He was happy he got some words out, although they were embar-

rassingly husky.

“I was.” Wash flushed. “I am. It just didn’t seem as…important.” He frowned, twisting his

shoulders in an awkward shrug. “Probably better not to anyway.”

“Yeah.” Rhodes turned onto his back and frowned at the ceiling. “Kinda got that impression.”
“What impression?”
“That you were done. With me.” Rhodes sighed, rubbing the crease between his eyebrows,

and wondered why they were talking when they could be screwing each other’s brains out right
now. What was his fucked-up plan again?

“Course not, Rhodie,” Wash protested. “You know we’re partners.”
Rhodes turned his head and looked at him evenly.
Dropping his eyes, Wash admitted, “Okay, so maybe I panicked a little. I mean, what were

we thinking? We have to work together and the last thing I want is to jeopardize that. What kind
of big ol’ can of gay worms did we open up anyway?”

Staring at him, Rhodes just repeated, “Gay worms?”
Wash laughed. “Quite a visual, isn’t it?” His smile fell away. “You know what I mean though,

Rhodie, don’t you? I’m just not sure if this is the smartest thing we’ve ever done.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rhodes told him, swallowing back the pleading words he wanted to

say. He’d lived without Wash in his bed before. He could do it again. “Whatever I get is…” Amaz-
ing. Wonderful. More than I ever expected. “Nice.”

“Nice?” Wash repeated, glaring at Rhodes. “Nice? That’s all the praise I get?”
Rhodes held back a grin. “You were okay, I guess.”
Turning onto his side again, Wash poked Rhodes in the chest. Hard. “You seemed to be en-

joying it at the time,” he accused. His eyes flashed to Rhodes’ laughing mouth and Wash tipped
his shoulder down, as if he was thinking of rolling on top of him for another kiss.

Rhodes sobered in a hurry. “You kiss me again,” he warned, “and I can’t promise that I’ll

stop.”

With a slow nod, Wash pushed himself up to sit cross-legged on the bed. Rhodes carefully

kept his eyes on Wash’s face, even though his partner’s erection was now in his direct line of sight,
just a few tempting feet away.

“So what is this?” Rhodes asked. He couldn’t keep his eyes away from Wash’s cock, so he sat

up as well, leaning against the headboard. “Did I just end your experimentation phase and drive
you back to women?”

“Fuck off,” Wash told him, although his tone was free of venom. “Shit, I don’t know. I’ve just

been thinking a lot since you, you know, came out to me.”

“Thinking about how hot I am?”
Wash laughed, then blushed and looked away. “Whatever. Hey, you remember that girl, Amy,

I dated a few months ago?”

Rhodes gave his partner a blank stare.
“Squeaky laugh and surprised eyebrows?”
“Right.” Rhodes winced. “That laugh hurt my ears.”
“That’s the one. I was supposed to go out with her one night but you called at the last minute

about that Billings guy coming back into town, so I had to cancel.” Wash looked at him question-
ingly and Rhodes nodded.

“Sure, I remember. Billings was that dumbass who broke into Smelly Eddie’s and took his

TV.”

Grinning, Wash confirmed, “Yep. What an idiot. Anyway, Amy was pissed when I cancelled,

broke up with me and everything. Said that the only person I cared about was my ‘stupid part-
ner’—that’s a direct quote, by the way, so don’t hit me—and that I should just date you. You know
what I told her?”

“What?”
Wash became very interested in the sheet again, pressing out a wrinkle with his fingers. “That

I wished I could.”

Rhodes’ breath caught.
Glancing up at the other man’s silence, Wash gave a halfhearted grin. “It’s just so easy with

you. I can sit in the same car with you for eight, ten hours on a stakeout, sometimes talking, some-
times just sitting. I’d sit with Amy for ten minutes and I’d want to blow my brains out just so I
didn’t have to listen to her anymore. Man, that laugh…”

Wincing in sympathy, Rhodes finally recovered his voice. “That just means we’re friends,

Wash.”

“No,” Wash said, his face completely serious. “You’re more than my friend. When I think

about how I did this gig for six years before you became my partner, I don’t know how I stood it.
It scares me sometimes, like when Melie talks about getting you back on the force. I couldn’t take
it if you left me. And you know what sex does—it fucks everything up. What did we just do?”

“Hey,” Rhodes growled softly. He couldn’t stand looking at Wash’s face, so open and vulner-

able, wiped clear of any trace of laughter. He pulled the other man toward him, surprised when
Wash came willingly. Rhodes tucked his partner against his chest, wrapping his arms around the
man’s naked back. “I’ll never leave you—are you kidding? This job has all the excitement of be-

ing a cop with none of the paperwork. Plus I’m free to kick in a few heads—I could never do that
on the force.”

Wash nodded silently, the top of his head bumping Rhodes’ chin, Wash’s silky hair tickling

his jaw.

Smoothing a hand down the sleek, muscled back, Rhodes asked, “You know you don’t have

to put out to get me to stay, right?”

Wash jerked back. “Are you calling me a man-ho?”
Rhodes grinned, happy to see the humor back in Wash’s eyes. “If the leather G-string fits…”
“Ass,” Wash grumbled, smacking Rhodes on the arm as he rolled out of bed. “I know I don’t

have to have sex with you.”

“Good,” Rhodes said.
“The question is whether we should. And when I look at you, I just want to say ‘fuck it’

and…well, fuck you.”

Wash turned and headed for the bathroom, leaving Rhodes alone in bed, his cock harder than

ever.

After he showered, Rhodes walked into the kitchen to find Wash mostly dressed and cooking

breakfast.

“How domestic,” Rhodes teased, giving Wash a slap on one of his tight ass cheeks as he

passed.

“Watch it!” Wash threatened him with a spatula. “Abuse the cook and there’s no food for

you.”

Rhodes couldn’t resist sliding in behind Wash and running his hand over the cheek he’d

just smacked. “Something tells me,” he murmured in Wash’s ear, “that this ass could take a lot
more…abuse.”

He felt Wash shiver before elbowing Rhodes in the stomach. Dodging the blow, Rhodes

laughed and sat at the table, stretching his legs out in front of him. He liked having Wash in his
apartment, teasing and cooking. In fact, he liked it a little too much.

“I’ve been thinking…” Rhodes trailed off as Wash thumped a full plate of eggs, toast, bacon

and even some sliced fruit in front of him.

Wash smirked. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
Ignoring that, Rhodes stared at his food. “Where’d you get the bacon?”
“The bacon fairy.” When Rhodes didn’t laugh but just picked up a piece, examining it curi-

ously, Wash continued, “Your freezer. Where’d you think it came from, brain trust?”

“I had bacon in my freezer?” Rhodes took a bite, shrugged and shoved the rest of the piece in

his mouth. “Wonder how many years that’s been in there?”

Now it was Wash’s turn to examine the meat on his plate. “As long as you freeze it, I think it

lasts forever. Didn’t they bring that caveman back to life after thousands of years? His meat must
have still been good.”

“That was a movie, Wash.”

He just grinned. “Wasn’t it based on a true story?”
Pretty sure his partner was kidding, Rhodes reached over and lightly whacked the side of

Wash’s head. “Dumbass.”

“Probably. So you think if we call Gomez, she’ll get us that stuff on Ness today even though

it’s Sunday?” Wash asked around a bite of eggs.

Rhodes shook his head. “Normally I’d say yeah, but her sister’s wedding is today.”
Wash stopped chewing and blinked at him. “How’d you know that? You keeping up with

Gomez’s family events now?”

“Nah.” Taking another bite, Rhodes tried not to grin. “Already called her this morning.”
Wash threw a blueberry at his head. Rhodes caught it and popped it into his mouth. “Think

Ness’ll meet with me today or is it too early?” Rhodes wondered.

“You kidding? That guy’s a hard-core partier. Probably just went to bed a couple hours ago,”

Wash scoffed. “I’ll call him tonight, see when he’s free.”

Rhodes grunted. “Who can we harass now?”
“Quit whining. The Raiders-Broncos game will be on. Let’s watch while we look at the files

again.”

“Fine,” Rhodes grumbled. His phone rang, vibrating against his leg, making him jump. Dig-

ging it out of his pocket, he pushed the talk button. “Rhodes,” he barked.

There was a pause before a deep, tentative voice answered, “Um, hello. Isaac?”
No one called him Isaac. His eyebrows pulled together. “Yeah. Who’s this?”
“It’s, ah, Trevor? From last night?”
“Trevor, sure. The blue-eyed bouncer.”
Wash stood up abruptly, snatching Rhodes’ plate away and dropping it into the sink with an

angry clatter.

Rhodes grinned, his eyes on Wash’s stiff back. “The hot, blue-eyed bouncer,” he elaborated,

almost laughing out loud when Wash spun around to glare at him.

“Yeah,” Trevor said. “I…I mean, I’m not saying I’m hot or anything.”
Rhodes did laugh at that.
“Is it, um, too early to call?”
“No,” Rhodes assured him, glancing at his watch. “It’s almost eleven. We’ve been up for a

while.”

There was a pause. When Trevor spoke again, his tone was curt. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to in-

terrupt.”

He had jealous guys on both sides. Rhodes rolled his eyes. “You didn’t. We just finished

breakfast and were about to watch the game. You like football?”

“Um…sure.”
“Want to come watch the game with us?” Rhodes asked, glancing up at Wash. His partner

looked like he wanted to kill him.

There was another pause on Trevor’s end, longer this time. “Okay,” he finally said, sounding

anything but sure.

Rhodes rattled off the directions and ended the call.
“What the fuck?” Wash demanded.
“What?” Rhodes asked, spreading his hands innocently. “He knows Ness. We can drill him.”
“Uh-huh.” Wash crossed his arms over his chest. “Figured you wanted to ‘drill’ him.”
He was standing close enough for Rhodes to reach out and grab him, pulling a startled Wash

toward him. Losing his balance, Wash ended up straddling Rhodes’ lap.

“Don’t be jealous,” Rhodes soothed, wrapping an arm around Wash’s narrow hips and tug-

ging him closer until their bodies were flush, Wash’s groin to Rhodes’ hard belly. “You know I
love you best.”

“Asshole,” Wash muttered, pushing against the other man’s shoulders, although not very hard.
“We’ll just watch the game,” Rhodes’ hands started at Wash’s thighs and moved up, sliding

around his hips, “have a few beers,” his voice went husky as he explored the hard planes of Wash’s
back, “ask him a few questions…” Rhodes completely lost his train of thought as his fingers found
the inward curve of muscle edging Wash’s spine and followed it back down to his partner’s per-
fect, round, fuckable ass.

He felt Wash’s muscles tighten as he cupped the delicious cheeks, feeling them clench be-

neath his palms as he massaged the round globes. Wash groaned, his face flushed and his eyes
partially closed. The sound shot through Rhodes, stiffening his cock and making him dig his fin-
gers into Wash’s ass cheeks.

Rhodes’ breath quickened, stopping altogether as Wash’s cock grew against his abs. His fin-

gers slid from the other man’s ass to the button on his pants, looking at Wash’s face for permission.

“What…” His voice was a croak and Wash reddened as he cleared his throat and tried again.

“What exactly were you thinking?”

Fighting a grin, Rhodes leaned toward him to growl, “Exactly how much I want to fuck you.”
Jerking back a few inches, Wash bit his bottom lip, his eyes dilating until the green almost

disappeared into the black. “Um, didn’t we just decide that was a bad idea?”

“You decided that.” At Wash’s wary look, Rhodes relented, kissing him lightly, a soft, apolo-

getic brush of his lips against Wash’s. “How ’bout I suck you off? Sound good?”

The question made Wash flush even brighter. His eyes darted around, looking everywhere

except at his partner. Rhodes waited patiently until Wash’s bouncy gaze settled down and finally
landed on his face.

“Yeah,” he admitted. Losing his courage, Wash tipped his forehead against Rhodes’ shoulder

as he mumbled, “Sounds fucking fantastic, actually.”

Blood roared into Rhodes’ brain, hammering against his skull. He surged to his feet, holding

Wash against him for the ten steps into the living room. Laying the other man on the couch,
Rhodes unfastened Wash’s pants and pulled them off, bringing his underwear with them.

Wash blinked, obviously startled by how quickly he was half-naked, but Rhodes didn’t give

him time for second thoughts. Nudging Wash’s legs apart, he knelt between them, bracing his
hands on either side of the other man’s hips—and closed his lips around the head of Wash’s cock.

“Fuck!” Wash gritted out, thrusting his hips up and driving himself farther into Rhodes’

mouth. Rhodes accepted him eagerly, loving the way Wash stiffened even more, filling his mouth
and stretching his lips around the width of his erection. As good as Wash’s mouth tasted, this was
even better.

Humming with pleasure, Rhodes swallowed more of Wash’s length, wanting all of his part-

ner’s rigid cock, every thick inch until the end was buried in his throat. As he pulled his head up,
Rhodes worked his tongue against the underside of Wash’s erection, closing his lips tight beneath
the head so that it popped free with an audible sound.

“Don’t stop,” Wash pleaded, clutching at the shaven head between his legs, but Rhodes licked

the crease above his partner’s thigh instead, following the line down until he could suck one of
Wash’s balls. The sound of Wash’s whimper made his own cock tighten and he doubled his ef-
forts. He played with Wash’s sac with his lips and tongue before hooking his hands beneath his
partner’s knees and pushing his legs toward his chest.

“Here,” he grunted, pushing Wash’s legs even higher. “Hold on.”
Obediently, Wash grabbed behind his knees, holding himself spread and exposed. Rhodes

looked at the other man for a moment, so aroused and amazed at the sight that he couldn’t breathe,
couldn’t even move. The spell was broken by Wash’s needy groan and Rhodes stretched out on
his stomach, desperate to taste what was so temptingly offered.

Tracing the tight, puckered hole with his tongue, Rhodes found Wash’s iron-hard cock with

one hand, sliding his fingers up and down the shaft that was slick from his mouth. His tongue
probed the ring of muscle, demanding entrance, while his fist pumped Wash’s erection. Wash twis-
ted and writhed beneath the double assault, fighting the pleasure until Rhodes had to clamp his
free hand on Wash’s hip to hold him still.

Finally gaining entrance into Wash’s body, Rhodes tongue-fucked him as his fingers

tightened, moving faster and faster as Wash fought his hold, his breath sobbing from him as he
tried to thrust up into Rhodes’ fist, to plunge down onto the driving tongue. At Wash’s shout,
Rhodes surged up, swallowing the other man’s cock just in time to catch his cum in his mouth, to
feel the swell and jerk of his partner’s shaft as Rhodes learned another of Wash’s tastes. This one
was the best yet.

Rhodes didn’t want to let go, even after he had swallowed everything that Wash would give

him, after the final twitch of pleasure had vibrated through the cock in his mouth. Wash released
his legs, stretching them around the other man. Rhodes reluctantly released his prize, feeling Wash
shiver as his lips caressed his partner’s sensitized cock.

Resting his cheek against Wash’s thigh, Rhodes steeled himself and looked up, not at all sure

what to expect. Wash was watching him, his face unreadable, and Rhodes felt his stomach clench.

“You okay?” he asked, pushing to a sitting position. He immediately missed the skin-to-skin

contact.

“Well, yeah,” Wash said with the beginnings of a grin, sitting up as well. “Looks like you’re

the one with the…issue.” He nodded toward Rhodes’ bulging crotch. “Should I…?”

Feeling a little prickly and defensive, Rhodes shrugged and looked away. “You don’t have

to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Wash told him. His cheeks were reddening again. “I just…”

“I know,” Rhodes interrupted gruffly, standing up and turning away. “It’s a bad idea for us to

be messing around. Don’t worry about it.”

“It isn’t that either,” Wash insisted. “I’ve just never done it—to a guy, I mean. I’ll probably

suck at it.” He laughed. “Sucking at sucking—how pathetic is that?”

Rhodes allowed a smile to touch his mouth as he turned back toward Wash. “I’m sure you’ll

pick it up in no time. With regular practice, that is.”

Rolling his eyes, Wash pulled on his boxer briefs and pants. “Yeah, you going to volunteer to

be my coach now?”

“Maybe,” Rhodes said, giving his partner a sideways glance. “If you promise to work hard.”
Wash laughed again, opening his mouth to retort, but the buzzer from the building entrance

cut him off. Rhodes crossed to the intercom and pushed the button.

“Yeah?”
“It’s Trevor.”
“C’mon up,” Rhodes told him, pressing the button to unlock the door. When he glanced over

at Wash, he saw his partner was glaring at him again. Striding over to Wash, Rhodes hooked a
hand around his neck and yanked him in for a hard kiss.

“Quit sulking,” he ordered, nipping at Wash’s protruding lower lip. At a knock on the door,

Rhodes gave Wash a final sharp smack on the ass and headed over to let Trevor in.

He pulled open the door and had to catch his breath, a little startled at how good-looking the

bouncer really was. Usually, club lighting and a few shots covered many flaws, but Trevor looked
even better in the full light of day. His blond hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and wariness
put a sulky twist to his mouth and narrowed his eyes. His hands jammed in the back pockets of
his worn jeans, Trevor flicked his eyes to Wash and then back to Rhodes.

“So what’s going on?” Trevor asked. “I’m a little confused.”
“Come in.” Rhodes made it an order, jerking his head toward the couch.
Trevor took two automatic steps into the apartment and then hesitated.
“It’s okay,” Rhodes assured him, softening his tone a little. “We’ll explain everything.”
Wash made a startled sound. “Everything?”
“Trevor—this is Nate Washington. Wash—Trevor.” Rhodes made quick work of the intro-

ductions as he swung the door closed. “And yes—everything.”

“Can I talk to you in private for a second?” It sounded as if Wash was talking through gritted

teeth.

Rhodes sighed. “If you have to.” He turned to the blond man. “Have a seat, Trev, the game

should just be starting.”

Shooting him an uneasy look, Trevor perched on the edge of the couch as Wash dragged

Rhodes into the bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

“You’re going to tell this guy about the case? Before you meet with Ness? He works for the

guy—he’ll blow the whole thing!”

Rhodes shook his head. “He doesn’t like his boss much—he pretty much told me to get you

away from Ness before he could take you home last night. Think of how useful it’ll be to have
someone on the inside.”

“We don’t know this guy,” Wash hissed. “Quit thinking with your dick!”
Taking a step closer to his partner, Rhodes growled back, “I’m not. We wait ’til we know this

guy enough to trust him and the kid is dead or shipped off to another state. Besides, we lie to this
guy now and he’ll never trust us later. This is a fucking golden opportunity.”

There were a few seconds of loaded silence while Wash glared at him, their faces just inches

apart. “Fine,” he spat, before his angry expression faded to humor. “Shit, I can’t even argue with
you anymore. I keep thinking about kissing you.”

Rhodes stared at him, dumbstruck, and then laughed. “So you’re good with bringing Trevor

in on this?”

“Eh, not really good,” Wash said with a shrug. “Okay, I guess. This way, when it blows up in

your face, I can keep bringing it up.” He grinned. “For years.”

Rolling his eyes, Rhodes headed for the door. “Great,” he groaned, although a smile still

tugged at his mouth. He passed Trevor on the way to the kitchen and the blond man jumped up.

“I should probably just go,” Trevor said.
Rhodes frowned at him over his shoulder. “No, sit. I’ll bring you a beer.”
Trevor still hesitated, standing by the couch.
“Seriously, man, stay,” Wash told him, giving the blond man’s arm a friendly tug as he

plopped down on the couch. “Rhodie says you’re okay—that’s good enough for me.”

By the time Rhodes brought in three beers, Trevor was sitting next to Wash, although he still

looked ready to bolt.

“Mute that, would you?” Rhodes said to Wash, who was closest to the T.V. remote, as he

passed him a beer and then offered one to Trevor. “You notice the business name on that card I
gave you last night?”

“Yeah,” Trevor admitted cautiously, accepting the beer. “Washington Investigations. Figured

you’re a P.I. or something.”

Pointing his bottle toward Wash, Rhodes corrected, “We’re P.I.’s.”
“Or something,” Wash interjected.
Rhodes ignored him. “The reason we were at the club last night is because we’re working on

a case.”

A flash of panic crossed Trevor’s face. Interesting, Rhodes thought, filing the reaction away.
“What kind of case?” the blond asked, studying the beer bottle in his hand.
“A missing kid,” Rhodes answered, watching relief replace the panic on Trevor’s face for a

second before all emotions were quickly smoothed away.

Trevor met his eyes, carefully expressionless. “Why would a missing kid be at Stand and De-

liver?”

“Actually, we’re thinking that your boss has something to do with his disappearance,” Rhodes

explained.

“Oh.” Trevor blinked, processing that information. He looked over at Wash. “So that’s why

you hung with Ness all night.”

Wash grimaced. “Well, it wasn’t for his wit and charm. Or his good looks. Or—”
Rhodes cut off what could be a long list. “Another kid went missing and was found dead in

one of Ness’ buildings. Both kids went to the youth center where Ness volunteers. We figured that
was a pretty big coincidence.”

Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his eyes back on his beer, Trevor said flatly,

“Figures. So you wanted me to come over so I would tell you what I know about Ness.”

“Well…” Rhodes trailed off, looking at Wash.
“Please,” Wash snorted, lightly knocking into Trevor with his shoulder. “Just the case, my

ass. Rhodie likes you.”

“What the hell, Wash?” Flabbergasted, Rhodes stared at his partner.
“Yeah? Figured you two were a couple.” Trevor flicked a look toward Rhodes, one of his shy

glances he remembered from the night before.

“You see, Trev,” Wash began, turning sideways on the couch and ignoring Rhodes altogether.

“Rhodie just came out to me a few days ago, so it’s turned me on my head a little. I’ve been kind
of…um, confused. I figure that, just because I’m trying to figure my shit out, that doesn’t mean I
should get in the way of Rhodie’s potential happiness.”

“Fuck, Wash!” Rhodes ran his hand over his head. If he had hair, he’d be pulling it out. “When

I said we should tell Trevor everything, I didn’t mean…shit, everything.”

Wash just smiled at him.
“So,” Trevor said slowly, sneaking peeks at Rhodes through his lashes. “Last night, in the

hallway, that wasn’t just so I’d help you guys?”

“What happened in the hallway?” Wash jumped in.
Rhodes raised an eyebrow. “Thought you didn’t care.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t care,” Wash protested but Rhodes left him sputtering and turned to Tre-

vor.

“You have to know how gorgeous you are,” he told the blond man, who blushed and dropped

his eyes.

“Well sure…I mean,” he amended hurriedly, “I do okay. It’s just that I’ve never met anyone

like you.”

It was Rhodes’ turn to flush at the enormous amount of longing that Trevor managed to cram

into that one word. His eyes were reluctantly drawn to Wash, afraid that his partner would be grin-
ning at him mockingly, but Wash was looking at Trevor with something like sympathy.

“He’s something, isn’t he?” Wash said quietly. Trevor glanced over at him in surprise and

then nodded. The two men shared a look that made Rhodes extremely uncomfortable.

“Enough of this,” he grunted. “What do you think, Trev? Don’t want to get you into any kind

of trouble with your boss, even if he is a slimy asshole.”

Wash shuddered. “Christ, is he ever slimy.”

“No, it’s okay,” Trevor said, looking back and forth between the two men. “I’ll help. If Ness

is mixed up in this whole missing-kids thing, I don’t want to work for him anyway.”

Toasting Trevor with his beer, Wash grinned happily. “Then welcome aboard, sailor! You

have no idea what you’ve just gotten yourself into.”

Smiling wryly, Trevor toasted him back. “Probably not,” he agreed with a quick glance at

Rhodes.

Chapter Five

“Want to know what I’m thinking?” Wash asked. The game was still muted. The three men

had spread the files across the coffee table in order to go over all the case details again.

Rhodes rolled his eyes. “Last time you asked us that, you were thinking about that cheese

commercial and now that fucking annoying jingle is stuck in all our heads, so no, I probably don’t
want to know.”

Wash ignored him. “We should have Gomez check for any other missing kids from that area.”
His look of pained forbearance dropped away as Rhodes considered the idea. “All missing

teenagers from that section of the city would be a long list. How about only the kids who lived
within walking distance of the youth center?”

Nodding, Wash jotted down a note. “Good idea. What’s walking distance—a mile? Two?”
“Do any kids get bussed to the center?” Trevor asked.
“We should check that,” Wash agreed, making another note. He glanced up and grinned at

Trevor. “Look at you, P.I. rock star!”

Trevor blushed and smiled. “I always wanted to be a cop. I’ve always been good at putting

things together in my head. You know, logical stuff.”

“Why didn’t you?” Rhodes asked. When Trevor gave him a questioning look, he clarified,

“Become a cop?”

“Oh you know…” Trevor trailed off and frowned at his beer. “Life. Stuff got in the way.”
“Huh,” Rhodes grunted skeptically. “Although it’s not like it’s too late or anything. What are

you, twenty-five or so?”

“Twenty-six.”
“You’d only be three or four years older than most of the guys at the academy. You should do

it,” Rhodes urged him.

Trevor shook his head.
“Why not?” Rhodes pressed. “You’ll like it better than the drunk-asshole patrol you do now.”
“Just can’t.” His frown turning into a scowl, Trevor glared at the other man. “Drop it, okay?”
“What, you got a record or something?”

With an exasperated huff, Trevor crossed his arms across his chest. “What part of ‘drop it’ is

so hard to understand?”

Rhodes grinned, showing all his teeth. “What part of this conversation makes you think

you’re giving the orders?”

Trevor flushed and dropped his eyes, suddenly looking ten years younger. “Sorry, sir,” he

muttered.

The words shot straight to his cock. Rhodes bit back a groan and shifted in his chair, trying to

hide the bulge at the front of his jeans.

Wash looked back and forth between the two men. “What just happened?”
“Nothing,” Trevor and Rhodes chorused.
“Uh-huh.” Wash didn’t look convinced. “So why is the room suddenly so thick with pher-

omones that I can’t see? It’s like testosterone soup in here.”

Catching his bottom lip with his teeth, Trevor stood up. “Um, I should probably go.”
“Really?” Wash asked in surprise. “Don’t leave because of my bullshit.”
“I’m not,” Trevor assured him, slipping a quick glance toward Rhodes. “I just—I mean, I

have to work tonight. I’d better go get ready.”

“Yeah, ’cause it takes,” Wash checked his watch, “five hours to put on a black shirt and black

pants.”

“Wash,” Rhodes barked. “Enough.”
Trevor jumped at the sharp tone but Wash just raised an eyebrow and smirked. With a final

quelling glare directed at his partner, Rhodes stood up to walk Trevor to the door.

“You mind if I use your bathroom before I go?” Trevor asked.
“Course not.” Rhodes gestured in the direction of the bathroom. “Through there.”
“Thanks.”
The door shut behind him. Rhodes thought for a moment, scowling, and then moved closer to

Wash.

“What?” Wash asked, a grin threatening to break free.
Glancing toward the bathroom door, Rhodes finally asked, “If I, um, kiss him goodbye, are

you going to get all bitchy with me?”

With an offended huff, Wash sat up straight. “I am never bitchy,” he protested.
Rhodes heaved an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes. “I meant…” He felt heat creeping

up his neck and knew he was turning red. “Is it going to…hurt your feelings?” he muttered, not
looking at Wash.

His partner was silent for so long that Rhodes finally had to look at him. When he saw the

huge grin on Wash’s face, he resisted the urge to smack it off.

“Rhodie,” Wash cooed. “I had no idea you cared.”
“Fuck off,” Rhodes growled. “I’m sorry I asked.”
With a laugh, Wash sat back against the couch and flipped a hand at his partner. “Go ahead,

suck his face for a while. Seriously, I won’t mind. What kind of cock-blocker do you think I am?”

Rhodes stared at him. “The kind who pulled me away from Trevor last night? The kind who

had a hissy fit when I invited another guy over? The kind—”

“Okay, okay, fine,” Wash cut him off. “I’ve had some time to think—”
“What—two hours?” It was Rhodes’ turn to interrupt.
“And I meant what I said,” Wash continued, ignoring his partner’s sarcasm. “I want you to be

happy, Rhodie. Being happy involves getting some. Since we’ve decided it’s a bad idea for you
and me to mess around, that means you need to look outside our little circle of two for potential
dates. Besides, I like Trev. It’s cute how he gets all shy and horny when you order him around.”

Rhodes opened his mouth but words deserted him. He was glad when Trevor emerged from

the bathroom, so he would have an excuse to stay silent and just toss one last glare in Wash’s dir-
ection before walking toward the front door behind Trevor.

“Thanks for inviting me over.” Trevor reached for the doorknob but before his fingers could

close around it, Rhodes spun him around and slammed him up against the closed door. Flicking
him a hot blue glance before averting his gaze, Trevor worried his lower lip with his teeth.

“Fuck,” growled Rhodes, staring at the other man’s mouth. “It makes me crazy when you do

that.”

Trevor stopped biting his lip, licking the abused skin. “Sorry.”
A rush of heat barreled over Rhodes at the flash of Trevor’s tongue. “Don’t be sorry,” he

rasped. “It’s a good kind of crazy.”

Lowering his head, he touched his mouth to Trevor’s. Although they had kissed just a few

times the night before, his taste was already familiar. Rhodes nipped at his lower lip and Trevor
gasped, allowing Rhodes’ tongue entry into the hot recesses of his mouth.

The problem was that Wash was watching. They weren’t supposed to be together, were only

supposed to be work partners, were definitely not in a monogamous relationship, but Rhodes was
still relieved when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket, giving him an excuse to break the kiss
before it really got started.

He glanced at the display and flipped the phone open, catching Trevor’s wrist with his free

hand to keep the other man from leaving.

“Hey Gomez,” Rhodes greeted.
“Listen, Rhodes, I wanted to check on what you needed earlier.” Her voice was muffled and

echoed oddly.

“When you cut me off, you mean?”
Her quiet huff of exasperation made him smile. “That fucking Washington is rubbing off on

you,” she accused. “Why don’t you quit busting my balls and tell me why you called earlier.”

“No.”
“Rhodes…” she said, her voice quiet but no less frightening.
Rhodes just grinned. “Nope. You need to turn off your phone, get out of that bathroom you’re

hiding in and go dance at your sister’s wedding. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Snapping his phone shut on Gomez’s shriek of rage, Rhodes brushed his lips across Trevor’s

a final time as he reached behind the other man to pull open the door. “See you later?”

Trevor nodded, stepping backward into the hall.
“You okay getting home?” Rhodes thought back, pretty sure that Trevor had nursed a single

beer the whole time he was there.

“Yeah,” Trevor confirmed, lifting a hand to brush the backs of his fingers against Rhodes’

cheek. “I’m good.”

Eyes narrowing, Rhodes growled, “I bet you are.”
With a laugh, Trevor turned and left. Rhodes could hear him clattering down the stairs.
Wash was carefully studying a sheet of paper as Rhodes moved back to the couch and sank

down next to his partner. Leaning over to read what was commanding Wash’s attention, he barked
a laugh. “That’s a fax cover sheet, buddy.”

“I know.” Wash quickly laid the sheet down on one of the piles. “I was…thinking.”
“Uh-huh.” Eyeing the other man suspiciously, Rhodes asked, “So that bugged you then?”
Blinking innocent doe eyes at him, Wash played dumb. “What?”
“Me kissing Trevor.”
“Oh.” Wash dropped his eyes to another page—this one completely blank. “That.”
Rhodes sighed. “Just be honest. If it bothers you, I’ll quit.”
Tapping his fingers on one of the files, Wash frowned. “That’s not fair.”
“What isn’t?”
With a heavy exhale, Wash flopped back against the couch. “It does bug me. In fact, watching

you with someone else pisses the ever-loving fuck out of me.”

“So I’ll stop.” Rhodes kept his tone nonchalant, although his heart jumped in excitement.

Possessiveness should be a good sign, shouldn’t it?

“No,” Wash told him, shaking his head. “Who am I to tell you not to make out with other

guys?”

Looking at him sideways, Rhodes offered, “My friend? The guy I slept with last night? My

partner?”

“No,” Wash said again, this time resolutely. “If I’m not going to fuck you anymore, I have no

right telling you not to fuck other people.”

Almost afraid to breathe and definitely afraid to ask, Rhodes finally had to force out the ques-

tion. “So are you going to fuck me again?”

“I don’t know,” Wash muttered, shoving his head against the back of the couch so he could

stare at the ceiling. He laughed but it had no humor in it. “Does it make me sound like a teenaged
girl if I say that I’m really confused?”

“Well, yeah,” Rhodes said.
With a startled laugh, Wash swung a fist at Rhodes’ stomach. “Fucker,” he accused.
They sat quietly for a few minutes.
“Would it help you decide if we made out?” Rhodes offered into the silence.
Wash laughed again. “Probably not but I still want to say yes.”
“Yeah?” Rhodes’ hand slid over Wash’s thigh and squeezed.

Wash jumped. “I shouldn’t.” Despite his words, his tone was undecided.
“Why not?” Leaning over, Rhodes began placing light kisses down the side of Wash’s neck.
“Because,” Wash shivered under the touch and his voice roughened, “this impairs my judg-

ment. Can’t make…a decision…while you do this.” He was almost gasping for breath by the end
of his sentence.

“Okay,” Rhodes agreed with a sigh as he sat up, taking his hand off Wash’s leg.
Wash looked at him with what appeared to be disappointment. “You’re not going to talk me

into it?”

“You are a fucking teenaged girl,” Rhodes growled, pushing himself up from the couch. “Go

home. If I don’t get to fuck anyone, I’m going for a run.”

“Fine,” Wash huffed, standing up. “But I’m going to write ‘Rhodes is an asshole’ in my diary

like a hundred times.”

Rhodes had to laugh. Looking down at his partner’s amused expression, Rhodes couldn’t help

but kiss Wash again. It was sweet and hard and much too short, but Rhodes had to break it off
quickly or he really wouldn’t let him leave.

“Go,” Rhodes commanded, physically setting Wash away from him.
“Going.” Wash turned to leave, tossing back over his shoulder, “Call me when you run to

fucking New Jersey or somewhere and can’t get home.”

Rhodes flipped him off and headed to the bedroom to change. As wound up as he’d gotten

him, his partner’d be lucky if Rhodes didn’t run all the way to Alaska.

He didn’t quite get to Alaska but Rhodes ended up running longer than he should have.

Tremors ran through his quads and he thought for about three seconds about calling Wash, but
then he would just get all desperate and horny again and the run would’ve been for nothing.

With a snort of disgust at his roundabout logic, Rhodes picked up his usual rhythm, blocking

out the twinge of pain from his left knee and the tight pull of his exhausted calves. The worst part
was that, despite the worn-out muscles, Rhodes knew he wasn’t going to sleep tonight.

That was the problem with having a one-time sleepover with Wash—it made every other

night seem a million times lonelier. Shaking off the self-pitying thoughts, Rhodes picked up his
pace. The sooner he got back to the apartment, the sooner he could wander around trying to kill
the rest of the hours until it was Monday.

When his phone vibrated against his hip, where he had zipped it into his pocket before he

left, Rhodes thought at first that his muscles were trembling from the strain. At the second ring,
he figured it out and dug out his cell.

“Rhodes,” he answered without looking at the display.
“You still running, Rhodie?”
“Yeah,” Rhodes admitted, trying to shove back the smile that covered his face at the sound of

Wash’s voice. He was the one acting like a teenaged girl now, not his partner.

“Where are you? I’ll swing by and pick you up. You have to get all prettied up for your date

tonight.”

“Date?”
He could almost hear Wash’s grin through the phone. “Yep. With a hot, sexy, slightly greasy

man. Okay, more than slightly greasy and not hot or sexy at all. But he’s loaded, so that makes up
for it.”

“Ness?”
“How’d you guess?” Wash confirmed. “So where in New Jersey will I find your sweaty, sorry

ass?”

Chapter Six

Trevor was leaning a shoulder against the brick wall. Although he had his expressionless

bouncer face on, his boredom was obvious. After a quick glance around to confirm that no one
was watching, Rhodes snuck up behind him and squeezed a handful of tight ass cheek.

Cursing, Trevor jumped a foot and swung around, his shock turning to exasperated amuse-

ment when he saw Rhodes.

“Asshole,” he muttered, obviously fighting a smile.
“Probably,” Rhodes agreed, leaning against the wall next to the bouncer, just an inch too far

into his personal space. “Bored?”

“Out of my skull,” Trevor agreed, rolling his eyes. “I hate Sunday nights. You going in?”

When Rhodes nodded, Trevor asked, “Mind starting a fight? Breaking it up will give me
something to do.”

Rhodes gave a short laugh. “I’m meeting Ness, so I probably will end up knocking him on his

ass.”

Sobering abruptly, Trevor let his fingers brush against Rhodes’. “Be careful, huh?” He looked

across the street, giving Rhodes his profile.

Catching the other man’s hand in the barest of squeezes, Rhodes released Trevor and headed

for the club entrance. “Always,” he threw back over his shoulder.

The club was almost empty. The few patrons at the bar made a depressing contrast to the wild

mob of the previous night. The music was low and the fluorescent light given off by the overheads
was sucked up by the black walls, making the cavernous space both too bright and too dim at the
same time.

Blinking, Rhodes allowed his eyes to adjust before walking toward the bar. Before he could

reach it, Ness slid off the stool he had been occupying and intercepted him.

“Mr…Rhodes, is it?” Ness asked, politely enough. He had his corporate image going to-

night—conservative suit, no chest exposed and a fraction of the hair product he’d worn the night
before. Rhodes shook the other man’s hand, fighting the urge to wipe his hand on his pants after.
No matter how well the guy cleaned up, there was still something sleazy about him.

Hiding his revulsion, Rhodes just nodded. “Mr. Ness.”
“Why don’t we talk in my office?” Ness suggested, leading the way through the same hallway

Rhodes had been in the night before with Trevor. Ness opened a door and gestured for Rhodes to
precede him into the room.

It looked like a standard office—oversized, modern-looking desk, piloted by a leather chair.

Ness touched the back of one of the smaller visitors’ chairs before taking a seat behind the desk.

“Please sit down,” Ness told him.
Despite the normalcy of the office and Ness’ perfectly polite manner, Rhodes felt prickly and

claustrophobic, every instinct he possessed telling him to run. Instead, he gritted his teeth and sat
down.

“Thank you,” he managed, although a smile was beyond him. “I didn’t expect you to meet

with me so soon—you’re a busy man.”

Ness had no problem smiling, although his eyes didn’t match his lips. “I’m always happy to

make the time for someone who shares my…business interests.”

“Yeah.” Rhodes’ hand wanted to reach for his hip, toward the phantom gun that he used to

carry holstered on his duty belt. After getting kicked off the force and joining up with Wash, he’d
gotten his concealed weapon permit but he rarely carried his gun. Sometimes it was needed for
intimidation, like with Terry Glade, but most of the time it was more of a bother than anything.
Also, if Trevor hadn’t been stationed at the front tonight, a frisk would have revealed a weapon
and that would have definitely started this meeting off on the wrong foot.

Rhodes shifted his hand away from the nonexistent gun at his hip and forced himself to relax

and feel out the direction of the conversation. He wanted to get the fuck out of this office and
out of this club as quickly as possible but he didn’t want to spook Ness by going too fast. Why
couldn’t Wash have played the pedophile? His partner was much better at undercover work than
Rhodes was.

“How’s your pretty friend Nate?” Ness purred, his tone thick with suggestion. Rhodes almost

flew over the desk to punch Ness in his disgusting mouth.

Instead, he shrugged, trying to keep his voice as uninterested as possible. “Fine, I suppose.”
Ness raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t keep a better eye on your toys, someone might steal

them away from you.”

“So steal him,” Rhodes grunted, lounging back in his chair and meeting Ness’ gaze. “He’s not

really my type anyway.”

Eyes narrowing, Ness leaned back, mirroring Rhodes. “So what exactly is your type then, Mr.

Rhodes?”

Allowing one side of his mouth to curl up, Rhodes murmured, “A little younger, a little

sweeter, a little more…innocent.” His stomach churned as he said the words but Ness seemed to
be pleased by his answer.

“Hmm,” Ness murmured, resting his elbows on his chair arms and pressing his fingertips to-

gether. His position was so stereotypically villain-like that Rhodes half-expected the man to say
something “eee-vil”. Cutting off his smile before it could make it to his mouth, Rhodes just raised
an encouraging eyebrow.

“So what do you do, Mr. Rhodes?” Ness finally asked. “I asked around about you. I hear ru-

mors you were once a boy in blue?”

“Once. Not anymore.”
“What happened? Did your fellow officers figure out that your definition of ‘spread ’em’ was

different from theirs?” Ness’ oily smile brought back Rhodes’ urge to beat it off his face. Hell, the
whole conversation made him want to punch Ness. Repeatedly.

Instead, Rhodes shook his head. “Just bureaucratic bullshit. I shot someone. They asked if I

had to. I said I did. They disagreed and asked me to leave. I left. The end.”

“A loose cannon? How…primitive.” Ness’ eyes lit with arousal and Rhodes felt a shiver of

disgust ripple through him. “So what exactly do you do now?”

Rhodes chose his words carefully. “I assist people in fulfilling certain needs.”
“That’s funny,” Ness told him, his face amused. “So do I.”
Biting back a sharp retort at being compared to the creepy bastard in front of him, Rhodes

just gave an expressionless nod.

“Be more specific—what ‘needs’ do you fulfill?” Ness pressed.
“It depends.” Rhodes shrugged. “If someone needs encouragement to leave town, I give them

that encouragement. If certain gentlemen need to know who stole their stash, I find out for them.
Things like that.”

“A thug for hire?” Ness smirked.
With a shrug, Rhodes accepted the term. “Sure. The pay’s better than police work. What ex-

actly do you do, Mr. Ness?”

“Call me Barry. I have a feeling we’re going to be friends. I’ve done some real estate devel-

opment. I run this club. Occasionally, if there is enough monetary incentive, I also procure cer-
tain…items. If someone has an interest in, say, a hard-to-find…toy, I find that plaything for him.”

Leaning forward and forcing the corner of his mouth to curl up with pretend fascination,

Rhodes suggested, “Maybe a twelve-, thirteen-year-old toy? Mint condition?”

With a slow smile, Ness cocked his head. “Possibly. I have a buyer who has disappointed me.

He’s slow in coming through with the payment. I’m tempted to pull the sale.”

“The toy is obedient? Trainable?” Rhodes swallowed back bile, hoping that the rough break

in his voice would be translated as excitement.

“Oh yes,” Ness promised. “The sweetest little virgin you’ve ever seen, big doe eyes and silky

black hair, just dying to please you.”

“How much?” Rhodes didn’t have to fake his interest anymore. Ness was talking about

Miguel—he just knew it.

“Twenty-five thousand.”
“Can I try him first?” No harm in asking. Rhodes could get the money together but he’d rather

his savings didn’t get tagged as evidence if everything went down wrong.

“No,” Ness told him, turning to the computer on the corner of his desk. He tapped a few keys,

clicked the mouse a few times and then turned the screen toward Rhodes. “But you can window
shop.”

The black-and-white image was typical grainy security footage but it was clear enough to see

that the boy curled on the cot was definitely Miguel. Rhodes swallowed hard, his eyes darting
across the screen, trying to find some clue as to where the boy was being kept. There was noth-
ing—three windowless walls and the cot, plus the sleeping teenager.

“I want him,” Rhodes said roughly, his eyes not leaving the screen. He heard Ness laugh.
“Then I’ll take your cash—and your cast-off.”
Rhodes ripped his gaze from the screen and stared at the other man. “Wash?”
“Nate Washington, yes.” The heat was back in Ness’ eyes.
Rage was simmering beneath his skin. Rhodes clung to his control—he was so close to find-

ing Miguel and nailing this slimy fucker to the wall. He couldn’t lose it now, no matter how good
it would feel to wrap his hands around that well-fed neck and squeeze until Ness’ egotistical head
popped off.

“He’s not mine to give,” Rhodes managed to say fairly casually.
“But he’ll come with you if you ask him to the club and follow you if you lead him into this

office. I saw his face when he talked about you. That boy loves you—he’d do anything you asked.
Once you get him in here, I’ll take care of it.”

Despite his brain’s screaming protest over the plan, Rhodes managed to shrug and say, “A toy

for a toy, huh?”

Ness licked his lips and grinned. “A toy for a toy,” he agreed.
“When?”
“Next Friday night. Midnight. Bring the cash with you,” Ness ordered.
Rhodes eyes flicked back to the black-and-white live picture on the screen. “I want him soon-

er.”

“Too bad.” Ness flicked his fingers, blowing off Rhodes’ demand. “I want it busy in here

when you bring in Nate, and Fridays and Saturdays are packed. You just have to be patient—and
get your money together.”

Pressing his lips together to hold back the arguments he still wanted to make, Rhodes gave a

short nod. “We have a deal then? You won’t sell him to that guy who ordered him?”

“He’s all yours—if you pay me, as promised.” Ness stood up, holding out a hand.
Rhodes shook it numbly. “Friday night then,” he said, turning to leave.
“Isaac?” Ness’ silky voice brought Rhodes’ head around. “You won’t let me down, will you?”
“Of course not.” Forcing a smile, Rhodes pulled open the office door.
Let Ness down? Definitely. Kill him? Hopefully.

Wash was waiting at Rhodes’ apartment. He’d wanted to come along but they both knew that

Ness could very easily put a tail on Rhodes and follow him home. If he was meeting up with Wash
at the Waffle House two blocks away, that might ring some suspicion alarms.

“What’d he say? What happened?”
With a tight shake of his head, Rhodes moved around his partner. “Give me a minute. I need

to shower.”

“But I’m dying here—at least tell me if you found out anything. Did he take Miguel, do you

think?”

“Yeah.” Rhodes headed for the bathroom, not even able to look at Wash. “I saw him.”
Wash grabbed his arm, jerking Rhodes to a stop. “You what? You saw Miguel? Ness just

showed him to you? Where is he? Is he okay?”

With his eyes locked on the bathroom door, Rhodes took a shivery breath, fighting the urge to

shake Wash off. His skin still crawled from the meeting with Ness, from the glimpse of Miguel’s
slight form curled in on itself, from his own disgusting words that had to be said, but still… Fuck,
he felt dirty. “Just give me a few minutes, okay?”

After a few seconds of silence, he felt Wash’s grip soften, slipping away as a caress. “Sure,

Rhodie,” Wash said quietly. “I got you.”

With a tight nod, Rhodes escaped to the shower to try to scrub away the filth that clung to

him. Even as the door swung shut behind him, blocking out Wash’s concerned face, Rhodes knew
the shower was a futile effort. This wasn’t something that was going to leave him anytime soon.

Wash was watching TV—the news, judging by the sound of it—when Rhodes emerged in a

cloud of steam, towel wrapped around his waist. Glancing up, Wash reached for the remote and
hit the mute button.

“Let me throw some clothes on,” Rhodes told him, heading for the bedroom. Yanking on a

pair of sweats and a t-shirt, he stood still for a moment, not wanting to go into the living room and
replay the whole meeting.

“Fucking baby,” he muttered, running a shaking hand over his smooth head before walking

out of the room.

“Sorry,” he told Wash, dropping down next to him on the couch.
“No problem,” Wash reassured him, turning off the television. “I did the same thing to you

last night, only I was a bigger bitch about it. Ness is a nasty-ass piece of work.”

“Yeah,” Rhodes sighed, slouching down until he could lean his head against the back of the

couch. He closed his eyes. “I’m buying Miguel next Friday night for twenty-five grand. And…”

“And?” Wash nudged after a few silent seconds.
“You.”
“Me?” An incredulous laugh touched Wash’s voice. “When did I turn into currency?”
Rhodes opened his eyes and glared at him. “Since you shook your sweet ass in Ness’ face and

he got a fucking boner for you.”

“What?” Wash demanded, sitting up. “You’re pissed now? I was working. And it got us what

we wanted, didn’t it?”

“I guess.” The anger was gone as quickly as it had arrived. Rhodes rubbed his eyes. “I’m not

pissed—at you, at least. This just complicates things.”

“But in a good way.” Wash grinned at him. “This gets me in.”
Rhodes frowned at his hands, which were clenched on his thighs. “Right,” he said.
Leaning back, Wash crossed his arms over his chest. “What does that mean?”

“What?” Rhodes grumbled, knowing perfectly well what his partner was referring to. “I

agreed with you.”

Wash snorted. “Whatever. You better knock off this protective shit right now. I was taking

care of myself long before you came along. Just because we fucked doesn’t mean you have to be
my savior.”

Although he frowned, Rhodes knew his partner was right. “Fine. Hopefully it won’t even

come to that.”

Wash broke into a happy grin. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Probably.” Shooting Wash a sideways look, Rhodes added, “That’s what scares me.”
“I’m thinking of grabbing Miguel back before Friday.”
Wash’s excitement was contagious. One corner of his mouth kicking up, Rhodes asked,

“Think Trevor’ll be up for giving us an…unofficial tour?”

“If he does, I’ll kiss him! Call him,” Wash urged but Rhodes shook his head.
“I don’t know if he’s still working. If he’s not, he’s probably sleeping.” He glanced at his

watch—almost midnight. “It’s late.”

“Tomorrow then.” As Wash stood and stretched, Rhodes couldn’t help but watch. His t-shirt

was tight enough to show the muscles bunching and flattening in his back.

“You leaving?” Rhodes tried for casual but had to cringe at the plaintive note that had crept

into his voice.

“Prob’ly should,” Wash yawned. “D’you want to talk about the case some more? Figured

we’d be too tired pretty soon to make much sense.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Panic was creeping in, tightening Rhodes’ stomach and making him

blurt, “Can you stay?”

Stopping in mid-stretch to stare at his partner in surprise, Wash let his arms drop as he

shrugged. “Sure.” He plopped down on the couch again and looked at Rhodes. “Want to go over
the police files again?” Wash did not sound excited about that plan.

“No, I meant…” As he trailed off, Rhodes gritted his teeth. Why did he even have to start

this? The request had just fallen out of his mouth, the result of thinking about another endless,
sleepless night. If he closed his eyes, he knew, just knew, that he’d see Miguel, curled defensively
in that barren room. He’d feel the clammy, too-hard press of Ness’ hand shaking his own, hear the
cool thrill of the man’s voice as he sold a little boy.

Despite the long night looming ahead, he shouldn’t have said anything to Wash. How was he

going to get out of this without Wash knowing what a scared-of-the-dark baby Rhodes was being?

As the silence stretched, Wash’s expression changed from curious to concerned. “What is it,

Rhodie?”

With a humorless laugh, Rhodes scrubbed his hands over his face. “Nothing. Really, just for-

get I said anything. I’m just tired.”

Instead of getting up again, Wash settled back into the couch. “Nope. I’m not leaving ’til you

explain what’s going on.”

Rhodes blew out a hard breath. “Fine, you stubborn motherfucker. I was asking you to stay

over.”

“Like, sleep over?” Wash’s face was uncertain. “I thought we agreed—”
Shaking his head, Rhodes clarified, “Sleep as in sleep. Not sleep as in fuck.”
Wash’s grin was reappearing. “Like in sixth grade? A pajama party? Should we talk about

boys?”

“Okay.”
“Oh right—we really do talk about boys.” Wash laughed. “Not that we talk about them much.

Think about boys then. OMG, did you see that cute bouncer outside the club tonight?”

Rhodes laughed too, some of the tension sliding out of his shoulders. “OMG, I totally did.”

His falsetto made Wash fall over in convulsions of hysterical laughter.

“If I were drinking a beer, it’d totally be coming out my nose right now,” he informed Rhodes

as he regained control.

“What kind of teenage-girl sleepovers did you go to where they were drinking beer?” Rhodes

asked him.

“They don’t have beer? No wonder I didn’t go to any. Lame.” Wash shook his head in disap-

proval.

His amusement dying away, Rhodes told him, “I was being stupid. You can go.”
“I’ll stay over—saves me a trip home and I’ll get an extra hour of sleep. Can I use your tooth-

brush?”

“If you really want to,” Rhodes said with mild disgust. “Or you can use the brand-new one in

the drawer by the sink.”

With a quick grin, Wash stood up again—this time to head toward the bathroom. “Nope, I’ll

use yours.”

Tossing a throw pillow at his partner’s back, Rhodes smiled. “Thanks.”
“For what?” Wash cocked a curious eyebrow, turning to lean against the bathroom doorframe.
“Staying. After Ness, I just didn’t want to be alone.”
Rolling his eyes in exaggerated agreement, Wash said, “Yeah, tell me about it—I’m the

one who has to be his trade-in love slave. You need to get some sleep for our big day tomor-
row—breaking, entering and trespassing. It’s like a field trip from heaven!” His face lit with glee.

As Wash stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, Rhodes could hear him

singing. A new kind of tightness constricted his lungs and he fought to shake it off. Last night had
been a one-time thing. Wash was a friend—such a good friend that he’d stay over to make Rhodes
feel better. Thinking it was anything more was asking for heartache.

For a second night in a row, Rhodes slept like the dead. The deep, dreamless sleep was as ad-

dicting as a drug. Waking slowly, he smiled at the warmth that was Wash, tucked against his front.
Rhodes’ cock lined up exactly with the crack in Wash’s ass and his sleepy brain thought it was
perfectly logical to wrap a hand over the other man’s hip to pull him even more tightly against his
erection.

“Do teenaged girls do this at slumber parties?” Wash asked in a voice raspy with sleep.

“Maybe. Who knows what happens in those Hannah Montana sleeping bags,” Rhodes

growled, letting his hand slide over Wash’s hipbone. Something, whether it was the faint early
morning light or his not-quite-awake brain or the warm and cozy cocoon made up of the covers
and Wash—whatever it was made Rhodes brave. When his fingers closed over the fleece-covered
bulge of his partner’s cock, Wash jerked in surprise, jamming his ass against Rhodes’ erection.

Rhodes groaned, both from the agonizing pressure and his discovery that Wash was as hard

as a rock beneath his fingers. His hand found the waistband of Wash’s borrowed sweatpants and
burrowed underneath. Rhodes thrilled at the touch of warm skin, the ripple of stimulated muscle
beneath his touch as he slid across Wash’s lower abs to find the hard column of his cock.

When Rhodes’ fingers gripped his erection, Wash hissed out a breath. Rhodes paused but the

other man didn’t pull away. In fact, his hips drove forward a bare inch, thrusting into Rhodes’ fist.

Although he was dying to slide his hand up and down Wash’s cock, he released him.
“Wait,” gasped Wash, but Rhodes was just shoving his own sweatpants down to his thighs and

then yanking at Wash’s. When his erection pressed hot and rigid against Wash’s bare ass, Rhodes
clenched his teeth against a whimper. The skin on skin felt so fucking good.

“Thought we weren’t doing this again,” Wash murmured, although his ass pushed back

against Rhodes’ cock in direct contradiction to his words.

“Don’t worry,” Rhodes reassured him, grasping the smooth heat of his partner’s cock again.

“I’m not going to fuck you. I just wanted to feel you against me.” He ran his fist the full length
of Wash’s erection, down and back up again, using his thumb to smear pre-cum around the head.
When Wash’s ass cheeks clenched, gripping the stiff cock tucked between them, Rhodes’ eyes
rolled back in ecstasy.

“Shit,” groaned Wash, echoing his partner’s thoughts. “I’ve changed my mind. We should

fuck. We definitely should fuck.”

Heat prickled over Rhodes’ skin as he fought back his need to come at Wash’s words. “Let’s

fuck then,” he gritted out. Turning Wash onto his back, Rhodes snatched the sweatpants down
Wash’s legs and tossed them away.

As Rhodes moved between his legs, Wash’s eyelids lowered to half-mast, a flush of desire

marking his cheeks. He made no move to stop Rhodes as he pulled Wash’s legs over his shoulders.

Sucking two of his own fingers into his mouth, Rhodes moved them in and out, putting on a

show for a fascinated Wash. When they were slippery with spit, Rhodes pulled them free and bent
to suck Wash’s cock into his mouth.

Wash moaned as Rhodes swallowed his length and then drew back, leaving Wash’s cock

glistening with moisture and quivering with need. Rhodes fisted the slick shaft in front of him,
his fingers sliding easily as he worked the massive erection. Without slowing his squeezing fist,
Rhodes worked one wet finger into the puckered hole of Wash’s ass, almost coming at the grip-
ping pressure.

At the invasion, Wash groaned and tightened around the finger inside him. Panting hard, his

hips twitching, he slid his erection through Rhodes’ fist before pushing down against his partner’s
penetrating finger, driving the digit another inch into his ass.

Rhodes squeezed his eyes closed, feeling his face twist as if he was in pain. “Fuck,” he

groaned. Everything inside him demanded that he pull his finger free and replace it with his

swollen cock, jam the entire length up Wash’s ass and fuck him until they both screamed with
pleasure and completion.

A small, pleading noise brought Rhodes back to the present. He opened his eyes to see the

need on Wash’s face. With another thrust of his hips, Wash impaled himself farther.

“Please?” Wash’s voice didn’t even sound like his. Surely this desperate plea hadn’t come

from Rhodes’ tough, bad-ass partner? “Please,” Wash begged again, and a line of shivers tore
along Rhodes’ spine. With a growl, he rotated his finger against the resistance of Wash’s ass,
gradually feeling the muscles loosening, allowing him to press the entire length into Wash and
pull out with a twist.

Adding a second finger to the penetration, Rhodes pushed both into his partner, feeling the

groan that vibrated through Wash from the inside. He began moving both his hands—one strok-
ing Wash’s cock and the other fucking his ass—in a matching, merciless rhythm. Pre-cum leaked
from Wash’s slit and Rhodes couldn’t stand it, he had to lap at the head of Wash’s cock.

The touch of Rhodes’ mouth must have touched off an explosion in Wash, since his hips

jerked wildly, bumping against the fist clutching him and then swinging back, driving Rhodes’
fingers deeper inside him.

“Fuck me, please!” begged Wash and Rhodes bit back a whimper. Christ, there was nothing

he wanted more but he didn’t think he could take another one of Wash’s post-coital repentance
parties. Clinging to his control, Rhodes moved faster, slamming his fingers deep into Wash’s ass,
fist tightening around his partner’s cock, his hand moving so quickly it was almost a blur.

As he felt Wash’s erection swell in his grip, Rhodes dipped his head and swallowed the entire

length, allowing the hard shaft to enter his throat as his hand dropped to Wash’s drawn-up balls
and squeezed firmly. With a shout of release, Wash grabbed the shaved head between his legs and
thrust hard, shooting down Rhodes’ welcoming throat.

Rhodes swallowed, eager to take him in, suckling gently until the shudders ceased. Gently

pulling his mouth and fingers from Wash’s body, he felt his partner’s shivering sigh at his with-
drawal.

“Your turn,” Wash said, tugging Rhodes up to kiss his mouth.
“Mmm,” Rhodes murmured against Wash’s lips, loving the different tastes of his partner. His

mouth, his skin, his cock and his cum—all varied but all Wash. Pushing him off too soon, Wash
raised an eyebrow.

“What do you want?” Wash asked.
You. Rhodes blinked, hoping he had just thought that instead of saying it out loud. “Um,

what?”

“I’ll do whatever you want. I just don’t know what you like,” Wash admitted, his cheeks dark-

ening in a flush. “Do you want me to jerk you off? Suck you? Rim you?”

“Yes,” Rhodes agreed. Just the words sent a shockwave directly to his rigid cock.
With the beginning of a grin, Wash asked, “Yes to which one?”
“Surprise me.”
As he nudged Rhodes over onto his back, Wash’s eyes narrowed and darkened, driving all the

breath Rhodes had left right out of his lungs.

“Are you sure?” he managed to gasp.
Grinning wickedly, Wash nodded. “Think I didn’t know what would happen if we spent the

night together? So just lie back and enjoy it.” His fingers reached for Rhodes’ cock.

Helpless to do anything except follow his partner’s instructions, Rhodes closed his eyes and

groaned as Wash’s fingers explored his erection. The rough surface of his partner’s palm barely
made contact with Rhodes’ cock, making him gasp and quiver and grit his teeth against the need
to thrust his hips.

When Wash’s fingers finally closed on his rigid shaft, Rhodes groaned and lost the battle with

his hips—he drove into his partner’s grip, helpless against the need to fuck Wash’s fist.

“Whoa,” Wash muttered and Rhodes’ eyes popped open. He panicked at the thought that

Wash was reconsidering. Instead, Wash was staring at Rhodes’ erection with fascination laced
with hunger. Rhodes’ heart jumped with hope.

“This is really cool,” Wash admitted.
Despite his raging need, Rhodes almost managed a smile. “Yeah, dude,” he mocked.
Narrowing his eyes, Wash tightened his hand in a rippling vise down the length of the cock in

his grip. “Going to make fun of me some more?” he asked with an innocent smile.

“Nuh-uh,” Rhodes managed to force out as his breath left his lungs in a rush.
“Okay then. Good.” Loosening his grip a fraction, Wash traced slick circles around the tip of

Rhodes’ erection with his thumb. “I never thought I’d get to do this with you. I mean, I’ve thought
about you like that a few times. Okay, so maybe it was more than a few times. When you told me
you were gay, that’s pretty much all I thought about.”

His eyes rolling back in his head at Wash’s words and the exquisite feel of his fingers, Rhodes

growled, “Great. You’re a talker. Can’t stand talkers.”

Wash paused for a second and then laughed huskily, leaning in to murmur, “You’ve just

earned yourself another paragraph before I suck you, buddy.”

“Ah fuck!” Rhodes didn’t know if he cursed in disappointment or ecstasy as Wash’s fist

pumped three times, fast and hard, moving the skin of his cock.

“You see,” Wash began, his pleasure in Rhodes’ punishment obvious, “I’ve had dreams about

you. Dirty dreams.”

Beyond words, Rhodes could only groan.
“I’d wake up wondering what was wrong with me, lusting after my partner. As far as I knew,

you were firmly on the straight team. Then I’d go to work and see you, and all of a sudden I’d be
hard again and have to hide in my office until I settled down. I think part of the reason I was so
pissed off when you told me you were gay was that, here I’d been, thinking I never had a chance
and you’d punch me in the face if you knew how much I wanted you to fuck me.”

When he heard those words coming from Wash’s mouth, Rhodes couldn’t stop it—he ex-

ploded, pumping into Wash’s fist, shooting ropes of cum onto his own belly and chest, his back
arching off the bed as pleasure vibrated through him. He roared as he came, feeling his insides
being stripped from him, erupting from his rigid cock in spasm after spasm of ecstasy.

Rhodes fumbled for Wash, yanking him down and wrapping him against his chest. He needed

to feel Wash’s skin against his, needed the weight of the other man’s body holding him down,

needed to know he was not exploding into empty space. Pressing his lips against Wash’s neck,
Rhodes tightened his arms around his partner, never intending to let go.

Chapter Seven

His cell phone rang. Muttering under his breath, Rhodes worked his way out from under a

sleeping Wash and grabbed the phone off the bedside table.

“Rhodes,” he snapped, keeping his voice low. Wash groaned and rolled toward him, tucking

against Rhodes’ side. Distracted from the call, Rhodes wrapped his free hand around Wash’s skull,
burying his fingers in his rumpled hair.

“You there?” Gomez’s voice grabbed Rhodes’ attention.
“Yeah. How was the wedding?” he asked almost absently, preoccupied with combing his fin-

gers through the silky, dark strands of Wash’s tousled mop.

She sighed. “The usual. All the relatives asking when it was going to be my turn to get mar-

ried. Dancing with guys I’m related to and actually being glad that I’m related to them, since
it means they—probably—won’t come on to me. Getting drunk enough to do the Hokey-Pokey.
Why’d you call yesterday—did you find out something about the case?”

“Actually, we needed something from you. Can you get us the files on all missing kids

who went to that youth center on Thirty-Sixth Street or lived within a two-mile radius? Oh, and
everything you’ve got on Barry Ness.” He glanced down at Wash, who had opened his eyes but
didn’t move his head off Rhodes’ chest. Tipping the phone so Wash could hear, Rhodes hit the
volume button and maxed it out. He didn’t want to turn it on speaker, since Wash wasn’t the
quietest guy in the world and Gomez didn’t need to know that Wash was in bed with him.

There was a short silence. Rhodes could almost hear Gomez’s brain ticking as she worked

things out. “So you think there’s a connection with the center? Ness? That was my first gut feeling
but I couldn’t find a thing on that do-goody prick—not even a traffic ticket. Do you suspect one
of the employees? We checked them all out—no priors on any of them, except the one counselor
had a DUI seven years ago. It’s Ness, isn’t it? You think Ness is involved.”

“Not telling you anything, Gomez,” Rhodes told her. “Things are a little…sensitive right now

and we don’t need a bunch of cops in there fucking things up. As soon as we have anything con-
crete, I’ll let you know everything.”

“Bastard,” Amelia accused, although she sounded more resigned than angry. “You have some

fucked-up plan, don’t you?”

Rhodes made a noncommittal sound. Wash grinned against his chest.
“Uh-huh,” she said. “I know that grunt. That’s a ‘yes’ grunt. In fact, that’s a ‘Yes, I’m going

in to get my head blown off because I’m too stupid to ask for help’ grunt.”

“Don’t worry, Gomez,” Rhodes assured her, throwing Wash a wink. “My partner’ll have my

back.”

She snorted. “Yeah, fucking Washington. Lot of help he’ll be.”
Rhodes smashed Wash’s face against his chest to muffle the indignant protest.
“What’s that?” Despite Rhodes’ efforts, Gomez must have heard Wash. “Is someone there

with you?”

“Maybe you should think about that before calling at,” Rhodes glanced at the bedside clock,

“six in the morning. Jesus, Gomez, aren’t you hung over?”

“Shit, I’m sorry, Rhodes—you should’ve told me you had company. I just didn’t expect…”

She trailed off and was silent for a few seconds. “Anyway, I was drunk by four yesterday after-
noon. I’ve already been hung-over. I’m in the recovery phase now. Hey, I’ll hang up so you can
get back to…whatever. I’ll send those files over to your office, okay?” Without waiting for con-
firmation, she hung up.

Wash propped himself up on an elbow. “Melie was freaked you had someone over. She think

you’re a monk or something?”

Yawning, Rhodes sat up, running his hands over his stubbly head. “After the whole outing

thing, I kind of acted like one. I was a little too paranoid about Vice crashing in again to go to any
of my usual pick-up places.”

“I’m sorry,” Wash said seriously.
Rhodes gave a short laugh. “’Bout what? My blue balls?”
“No,” Wash elaborated, watching Rhodes roll out of bed and yank up his sweatpants. “I’m

sorry you had to have that kind of job and didn’t even have the fuck-your-brains-out escape. I’m
sorry you were lonely.”

Facing away from Wash, Rhodes winced. “Whatever,” he growled dismissively, not wanting

to think about the gut-clawing misery that, more times than he cared to remember, had driven him
out to run for hours. “I’m going to shower.” He almost ran for the bathroom, closing the door with
wild relief. Talking about those things after spending the night with Wash was like stripping off
his skin and jumping into the ocean, bare and raw and vulnerable when the salt hits.

As he soaped his body briskly, Wash came in to use the bathroom. Rhodes tried to ignore his

partner but he was hyper-aware of every move Wash made. With a rough sound of impatience,
Rhodes moved to turn off the water but froze with his hand above the faucet when Wash stepped
into the shower.

“Move over,” Wash demanded, nudging Rhodes out of the path of the spray. Rhodes could

only stare as water tracked across Wash’s skin, running over the round, hard rise of his ass. His
hands cupped those irresistible cheeks and Wash grinned at him over his shoulder, the water
clumping his eyelashes and flushing his cheeks.

“Christ, you’re pretty,” Rhodes breathed without thinking.
“Pretty?” Wash asked indignantly but then laughed and pushed back into Rhodes’ grip.
With a rough inhale, Rhodes massaged the hard globes under his fingers, running his thumbs

into the crevice dividing the cheeks. “Pretty and you have a great ass,” Rhodes growled, kissing
the side of Wash’s neck. He heard the other man’s breath catch as Wash turned his head to give
Rhodes better access.

Just that small sound, combined with the feel of Wash’s hot, wet skin under his mouth and

hands, hardened Rhodes’ cock. Guilt nibbled at him though, distracting him from the muscles
shifting beneath his palms. With a final squeeze, a last slip of his thumb against the puckered hole
hiding between the cheeks, Rhodes stepped back reluctantly.

“Tired of me already?” Wash teased, raising a curious eyebrow.
Rhodes snorted. “Like that’ll ever happen.” He flushed, realizing what he’d just admitted, and

then hurried on. “I just can’t get last night out of my head. I know it’ll be hours before Trevor’s
up or Gomez gets the files to us, but I just feel like I should be doing something.” At Wash’s sug-
gestive grin, he amended, “Something besides getting my rocks off in the shower.”

“Sure,” Wash agreed, grabbing the soap and quickly washing off. “I get it.” He rinsed as

Rhodes stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel for a fast wipe down.

“You hungry?” he asked Wash’s blurry form through the shower door.
“Starving! Want to go to IHOP again? I think you’re out of prehistoric bacon.” Sliding the

shower door open, Wash shook himself under Rhodes’ fascinated gaze and grabbed a towel.

Rhodes grunted, distracted by the display of slick brown skin in front of him. “Probably a

good thing. Let’s swing by and pick Carlos up. We can give him a rough idea of what’s going on
without any details.”

Smirking, Wash toweled his hair.
“What?” Rhodes demanded.
“Nothing!”
Fists propped on his hips, Rhodes eyed his partner suspiciously. “What’s that look for then?”
Peering out from beneath the towel, Wash cooed, “You’re just such a sweet little mother hen.”
Scowling even harder, Rhodes debated smacking the other man. That or turning him over his

knee. The second idea made his mouth water.

It was Wash’s turn to ask a wary, “What?”
Rhodes smiled at him, showing all his teeth. “Nothing,” he said, mimicking Wash’s innocent

delivery.

He watched in fascination as Wash’s expression changed from exasperation to…something

else. Hunger, maybe. His eyes were glowing, such a bright green as to be almost unearthly.
Without warning, Wash’s hand snaked up to grab the back of Rhodes’ neck and yank him down
for a hard kiss.

Shocked, Rhodes passively allowed Wash to kiss him for a long second. It was the first time

Wash had initiated a kiss and it threw Rhodes off guard. Then lust roared into his skull, knocking
his paralysis loose. Rhodes grabbed Wash, spinning him around to shove him against the sink, all
without breaking the kiss.

Groaning against Wash’s mouth, Rhodes buried both of his hands in the other man’s wet hair

and kissed him even harder—no technique, no finesse, just raw, primitive need. Their thighs and
groins, bellies and chests were melded together, but they struggled to get even closer, to climb
inside each other.

Squirming white dots swam over Rhodes’ vision, reminding him that he needed to breathe.

He ripped himself away, breaking the kiss and stepping back. Wash made a protesting sound, try-
ing to follow the other body, to pull Rhodes back against him.

“If we keep this up, you’re going to get fucked,” Rhodes warned, his voice a rough rasp, hold-

ing his partner away from him with arms that shook.

Wash’s eyes were dilated, the black eclipsing the green. “Yeah, so?”
Although his cock jumped eagerly, Rhodes stiffened his arms, keeping a space between their

naked bodies. “You say that when we’re going at it but you get all squirrelly once we stop. I’m
not going to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I do want it,” Wash protested. “What’s the problem? You’re the one being the cock-tease.”
Rhodes dropped his hands but kept his distance from the sleek brown body in front of him.

“Tell me that when you’re not out of your mind with horniness. Maybe then I’ll believe you.”

He turned and left the bathroom.
“Rhodie,” Wash called after him. Tightening his jaw, Rhodes didn’t even pause.

They saw Carlos trotting down the steps of his apartment building as they pulled up across

the street.

“Cool,” Wash said. “Saves us some stairs.” He rolled down his window and called out, “Hey

Carlos! Have time for breakfast?”

Carlos grinned when he saw them and hurried toward the car, pausing to let a few vehicles

pass.

Rolling his window back up, Wash turned to Rhodes and muttered, “Why do I feel like some

creepy, soliciting pervert, luring the kid into our car with the promise of chocolate-chip pan-
cakes?”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” Rhodes asked, hiding his grin. The ride over had been awk-

ward, the conversation stilted, and he welcomed the reemergence of his chatty partner.

“Fuck off,” Wash told him, laughing. “It was your idea.”
Sobering reality hit him and Rhodes shrugged. “Guess that’s my thing now—being a pervert.”
“Enough.” Wash glared at him. “It’s not you. It’s just a role you’re playing to get that kid

out.”

Opening his mouth to respond, Rhodes shut it when Carlos climbed into the backseat. Glan-

cing in the rearview mirror, Rhodes jerked his head in welcome. He was pretty sure that Carlos
was wearing the same raggedy-ass t-shirt he’d had on last week. Someone needed to introduce the
kid to the concept of thrift stores.

“Carlito!” Wash twisted around, grinning at the kid’s scowl.
“Ignore him,” Rhodes advised the boy as he pulled into traffic. “He renames everybody.”
Wash huffed. “It’s a sign of affection,” he protested, pretending to be offended. His smile

popped up again in seconds. “So how are things, wee one?”

Carlos made a face. “Think I liked ‘Carlito’ better.”

“Knew it’d grow on you!” Wash beamed. His happy expression fell away as he asked, “How’s

your mom holding up?”

The kid shrugged and dropped his eyes to the knee of his battered jeans until Rhodes could

only see his bent head in the mirror.

“That good, huh?” Wash asked with a wince of sympathy. Carlos just shook his head.
“We’ve got a lead on your brother,” Rhodes said as he pulled into the IHOP lot and parked.

Carlos whipped his head up, his expression caught between hope and wariness. This kid obviously
knew how hard disappointment could hit.

Wash hopped out and opened Carlos’ door. “C’mon. Let’s order pancakes and we’ll give you

all the details.”

They didn’t share all the details with Carlos. In fact, they shared very few. The last thing they

needed was Carlos running down to the club and confronting Ness—the poor kid would be sold
off before he could blink. Rhodes flinched at the thought, the black-and-white image of Miguel
flashing through his brain.

“Are you lying?” Carlos asked, staring at him over the table that was covered with plates

empty of everything except a few smears of syrup.

Rhodes jumped, worried for an irrational second that the kid could read his thoughts, that he

had looked into Rhodes’ brain and saw Miguel’s curled form on the bed. He covered the unnerved
jolt with a scowl. “Lying about what?”

“Do you really think you know who has Miguel or are you just trying to make me feel better?”

Carlos asked, staring Rhodes straight in the face, not even flinching away when he met Rhodes’
best intimidate-the-perp glower.

“This is a solid lead,” Rhodes promised, holding Carlos’ gaze.
Wash snorted. “Why would you think we’d do anything just to make you feel better? Ask

Gonzo—he’ll tell you that we’re just a couple of assholes.” Rhodes shot him a look and Wash
made a face. “Sorry. Suppose I shouldn’t swear around a kid. Okay, so we’re a couple…” Trailing
off, he glanced helplessly at Rhodes. “What’s another word for asshole?”

Rhodes just closed his eyes with a sigh.
“Whatever.” Carlos didn’t sound convinced. “If you don’t care about me, why are you always

feeding me breakfast?”

Scowling, Rhodes answered, “To shut you up for ten seconds. Obviously, it’s not working.

C’mon—we’ll give you a ride to school.”

Carlos didn’t budge. “You’ll tell me when you find another…clue or whatever?”
“Yeah,” Rhodes promised. “Not that you’ll believe us. Now hurry up—you’re going to be

late.”

After dropping Carlos off at school, Rhodes called Trevor.
“It’s too early,” he warned Wash as the phone rang in his ear. “If he does answer, he’ll be

pissed I woke him up.”

“Just talk dirty to him and he’ll get over it,” Wash told him, flipping a dismissive hand.
“Bitch,” Rhodes growled, just as a sleepy voice on the other end of the phone answered.
“What?” Trevor mumbled. “Who is this?”
“Trevor, hey. It’s Rhodes—Isaac, I mean.” He shot Wash a threatening look but Wash just

held his hands up in a protest of innocence while snorting a laugh.

“Hi,” Trevor’s voice smoothed out, although he still sounded puzzled. “Did you just call me

a bitch?”

“No,” Rhodes assured him, sending another poisonous look Wash’s way. “I was calling Wash

a bitch. He’s the one who’s been harassing me to call you this early. Did we wake you?”

“Yeah.” The word was punctuated with a yawn. “It’s okay, though—I’ll just go back to bed

after we talk. What’s up?”

“Actually, instead of going back to bed, think you could give us a mid-morning club tour?”
“Huh?” Trevor sounded wide awake now.
It was probably paranoid of him but Rhodes really didn’t want to give Trevor all the details

over the phone. “Want to meet somewhere to talk?” he asked instead.

“No,” Trevor grumbled. “I’d rather go back to bed.”
Rhodes let his voice soften. “C’mon, Trev. Please? For Miguel?
After a few seconds, Trevor’s sigh broke the silence. “Fine, you manipulative asshole. Where

should we meet?”

Trevor blinked. “Ness has been selling kids?”
“Yeah.” Rhodes leaned back in his chair. They had ended up meeting back at the Washington

Investigations office, gathered around Rhodes’ desk. “He has Miguel up for sale now, trapped
somewhere with a closed circuit camera on him. I’m thinking that locked room might be some-
where in the club.”

“So you need me to get you in.” Trevor stared past both men at the blank wall behind them,

obviously thinking hard.

“We know it’s a big risk for you,” Rhodes told him. “You could lose your job if we’re caught.”
Trevor shot him a look. “Yeah, I kind of figured that part out already,” he said dryly.
“There’s no reason we’d get caught,” Wash jumped in, shooting a quelling glare at Rhodes.

“That’s why we were thinking morning—we figured the club would be empty. I’ll keep an eye on
the front and give you two the heads-up if anyone comes in.”

Shaking his head, Trevor corrected, “Even in the morning it’s not completely cleared out. I

mean, I’m usually gone, so I don’t know for sure, but the cleaners come in between eight and noon
and I think there’re usually a few security guys.”

Rhodes digested this, frowning as he thought. “It actually might be less suspicious this way

than two guys wandering around an empty club. Plus the security system will be off. I’m not too
much taller than you,” he eyed Trevor up and down, “so I could wear one of your uniform shirts
and black pants. If the cleaning staff does see us, they’ll just assume we’re security.”

“And if security sees us?” Trevor asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You run like hell?” Wash suggested with a grin.
Rhodes shrugged. “We run like hell,” he agreed.

“Trevor could be reporting everything to Ness, you know,” Wash said conversationally as

they followed Trevor’s beat-up sedan back to his place so they could change into bouncer uni-
forms.

“Doubt it,” Rhodes grunted.
“Why? ’Cause he’s hot?”
“Think he’s hot, do you?” He looked away from the road to shoot Wash a sly half-smile.
“Well duh.” Wash grinned right back.
Ignoring the flash of heat traveling straight to his cock, Rhodes belatedly answered, “And no,

it’s not just ’cause I think he’s hot. If he’d been reporting everything to Ness, I would’ve never
seen that video of Miguel.”

“Sure?” Wash asked. “What if he’s just setting us up?”
“And giving us almost a week to call the cops in?” Rhodes said. “No. Trevor isn’t ratting us

out to Ness. Something’s up with the guy but it’s not that.”

“He did get pretty squirrelly about the whole police academy thing, didn’t he?” Wash’s eyes

lit up at the possibility of drama. “Think he has a record?”

“Probably. Why else would working as a bouncer for Ness,” he let all the disgust he felt for

the club owner show in his voice, “beat out becoming a cop?”

“Even I would rather be a pig than work for that greasy prick,” Wash agreed.
“Hey,” Rhodes protested. “Enough with the pig talk.”
“What?” Wash asked. “You’re not a cop anymore.”
Frowning, Rhodes watched Trevor’s car turn onto a side street and followed suit. “I can’t just

turn it off. They’re my brothers—and sisters,” he amended, thinking of Gomez.

Wash rolled his eyes. “Hate to break it to you, Rhodie, but you have the worst family ever.

They basically kicked you to the curb. Then they ran out, spit on you and ran back into that
depressing-ass police headquarters. Then they ran back out, jumped up and down on your body,
stood in a line to piss on you, lit firecrackers off in your—”

“Okay!” Rhodes broke in. “I get your point. I know it’s stupid but I still feel like a cop. Can’t

help it.”

“Masochist,” Wash grunted.
Shrugging, Rhodes just said, “Probably.”

Wash dropped them off a few blocks away. As Rhodes climbed out and adjusted his earpiece,

he felt the familiar buzz of adrenaline.

“You hearing me, Wash?” he asked quietly.
“Loud and clear,” Wash’s voice answered in his ear.
Satisfied, Rhodes grinned at Trevor. “Ready?”

“I guess.” Although his tone was resigned, Trevor’s eyes sparked with excitement.
Just before they reached the club, Trevor made a right-hand turn into a weed- and glass-

littered alley. Rhodes followed the other man to a battered side door.

“It opens farther down into that hallway we were in on Saturday—the one with Ness’ office,”

Trevor told him quietly. “Locked though.”

“No key?” Rhodes raised a curious eyebrow.
Trevor made a scoffing sound. “For a lowly bouncer? I don’t think so.”
With a shrug, Rhodes glanced around, pleased to see that a Dumpster hid both of them from

the other entrance to the alley. Better than nothing. He pulled out a flat fabric case hardly bigger
than a checkbook and nudged Trevor out of the way. Squatting down in front of the door, he ex-
amined the deadbolt—just a basic cylinder lock—and then slipped a couple tools out of his kit.
Rhodes grinned. He could do this in his sleep.

Inserting a tension wrench into the lock, he turned it a tiny bit to the left. When he felt the

plug shift slightly, he held the wrench steady and slipped a pick into the keyhole. As he lifted a
pin, he could feel the tiny click as it moved into place and each minute vibration sent a thrill down
his spine. Picking locks was one of his favorite things. Wash tended to just rake the lock, using a
wider tool that shoved the pins out of the way with one yank, but Rhodes loved the delicate lift
and click of shifting each pin, one at a time.

The final pin slid into place and the plug turned, unlocking the door.
“Nice,” Trevor breathed.
Rhodes couldn’t restrain a smile, although it fell away as a thought occurred to him. “You

sure the security system’s not live?”

It was Trevor’s turn to grin. “We’ll find out, won’t we?”
Rhodes made a face. “Great,” he grunted. Taking a bracing breath, he stepped into the club.
When the alarm didn’t sound, Rhodes sent up a prayer of thanks to the burglary gods. He took

another couple steps into the club, glancing around. Without Ness’ greasy fingers wrapped around
his arm, Rhodes realized the hallway that had looked so menacing the night before now seemed
positively innocuous.

After Trevor followed him in, Rhodes moved back to relock the door. “We’re in,” he told

Wash. “West side entry. No evident alarm or cameras.”

“We’ll have to thank Ness for that when we see him.” Wash’s voice came over Rhodes’

earpiece as clearly as if he were standing in the hallway with them.

Trevor took the lead, moving toward the closest door. The blond man hunched over a little,

staying close to the wall, creeping along as if he was the Pink Panther. Rhodes pressed back a
smile as he reached to tap Trevor on the shoulder.

Trevor jumped. Glaring at Rhodes, he raised an eyebrow.
Leaning toward the other man, Rhodes whispered, “We should be quiet but you don’t have to

skulk. We’re just two members of the club’s security staff, remember?”

Even in the dim light of the hallway, Rhodes saw Trevor flush as he muttered, “Sorry.” His

look of embarrassment dropped away when he added, “And I am a member of the club’s security
staff.”

“Right.” Rhodes gave a half-grin and gestured for Trevor to move on. They checked the

rooms off the hallway quickly, giving each one a cursory once-over. To Rhodes’ relief, no one
walked in on them during their check. The only locked door was on Ness’ office and Rhodes knew
that Miguel wasn’t in there. Rhodes wouldn’t have turned down an opportunity to go through
Ness’ computer but it was a pretty safe bet that the big boss’s office would have its very own se-
curity—including surveillance cameras.

Rhodes was fairly certain that Ness wouldn’t have stashed Miguel this close to the public

portion of the club anyway, since kidnapped kids have a high incidence of screaming. The noise
would have probably been drowned out by the music on Fridays and Saturdays but not the more
mellow weeknights, especially since Ness hadn’t hesitated to drag Rhodes into his office.

“Clear,” he said quietly, pulling the final door shut as Trevor stepped close enough to hear his

whisper. “Next?”

“Storage areas downstairs?” Trevor suggested.
Rhodes nodded, repeating the plan so Wash could hear.
An open doorway across the hall from the side entrance led to the stairs, rough wood treads

that threatened to catch Rhodes’ boots and send him tumbling. He pulled a small flashlight out of
his pocket and flicked it on.

“Where’d you get that?” Trevor asked as the beam traveled over his shoulder to illuminate

the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

“My pocket.”
Trevor gave an amused snort.
“What?”
With a shrug, Trevor explained, “Just wondering—is that a Maglite in your pocket or…?”
Moving quickly down the four steps separating them, Rhodes traced a hand across Trevor’s

back and felt the shiver that ran through the other man. “Yeah,” Rhodes murmured close to his
ear. “But I’m also really happy to see you.”

Trevor choked—whether from desire or laughter, Rhodes wasn’t sure.
“Hey now,” Wash protested in his ear. “No messing around without me.”
Taking a deep breath, Rhodes tried to refocus. This wasn’t the time to have his mind on his

cock. Or on Trevor’s cock. Or on Wash’s. He stifled a groan and shook his head to clear it.

The lower level felt endless. Rhodes had half-expected a few closets but instead, storage took

up most of the basement space, rooms of varying sizes opening off a main hallway. The rooms
were crowded with sound equipment, extra bar stools, decorations and a mishmash of other things.
Even the hallway was lined with boxes. How Ness passed his fire inspections with this mess,
Rhodes didn’t know. As Trevor moved a stack of boxes to open a door and stick his head in,
Rhodes walked gingerly between the piles, choosing his path with care.

“See anything?” Rhodes asked as Trevor reemerged and shifted the boxes back into their ori-

ginal position.

Trevor shook his head. “Lots of rooms left though.”
With a grunt, Rhodes resumed his search. One door opened to reveal a wall of file storage

boxes. Although he was tempted to dig through them, see what he could find out about Ness’ busi-

ness practices, he knew there was a kid locked up somewhere, maybe behind one of these doors.
Besides, the files were in an unlocked room in boxes—they were most likely old electric bills and
beer receipts. Rhodes doubted he’d find an invoice for twenty-five thousand dollars marked “one
kid”.

Pulling the door closed, he moved to the next one, which opened into a mechanical room

housing an ancient-looking furnace. He took a quick look around and moved on to the next room.

Turning the metal handle, he pushed the door with his shoulder. When it didn’t open, Rhodes

almost smacked his head on the door. He took a step back and stared at the keypad above the
handle. Checking the rooms had become so automatic that Rhodes hadn’t even noticed it.

“Trev!” Despite his quiet tone, excitement must have crept into Rhodes’ voice because Trevor

was next to him in a second.

“What?” Trevor asked.
Nodding at the door, Rhodes explained, “It’s locked. A keypad lock, even—with no manual

override.”

Trevor’s face lit up. “Probably something valuable in there, huh?”
“Or someone,” Rhodes agreed, studying the lock. “Wash. You awake?”
“Wide,” Wash answered in his ear. “Did I hear something about an electronic lock?”
“You sure did. Think you can join us in here and take a crack at it?” Rhodes couldn’t see any

wear on the buttons. “My tools are useless on this thing.”

There were several seconds of silence.
“Wash?”
“I would, Rhodie, but I’m thinking you better get out of there instead.” Wash’s voice was low

and urgent. “Four guys are headed into the front entrance—one of them is Ness.”

“Shit!” Rhodes gave Trevor a nudge away from the locked room. “Ness is here. We’re leav-

ing.” Glancing back toward the door, Rhodes bit the inside of his cheek. Moving close to the crack
between the door and frame, he spoke as loudly as he dared. “Miguel! Miguel, if you’re in there,
just hang on a little longer. We’ll get you out.” He hated to leave but they wouldn’t be any help to
the kid if Ness shot them in the head.

Grabbing a wide-eyed Trevor by the arm, Rhodes hustled the other man down the hallway. It

was a huge relief to see the stairs in front of them. Rhodes led the way up and was halfway to the
top when he heard voices coming from the hallway above.

“Fuck!” he mouthed silently, whipping around to run smack into Trevor’s wide chest. Grab-

bing the other man by the shoulders, Rhodes turned Trevor around bodily and gave him a shove,
following him as quietly as possible back down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, Rhodes
pushed Trevor toward the nearest door.

It was one of the smaller rooms, lined with dusty shelves holding boxes of napkins and

swizzle sticks. Rhodes pulled the door almost completely closed behind them, clicking off the
flashlight and dropping it into his pocket.

Outside their room, the overhead lights flickered on. Although the stairs weren’t visible

through the small crack Rhodes had left between the edge of the door and the frame, he could hear
multiple feet pounding down the rough treads.

“What’s so special about this kid?” Rhodes heard a man’s voice complaining.
“Who knows?” The second voice was gruffer and sounded older. “Who cares?”
“I care if I have to sit in this hole all night watching some fucking locked door for no reason.”
The two men passed across Rhodes’ line of sight. Neither looked familiar. He shifted aside

and gestured Trevor forward, nodding toward the thin crack. Trevor took his place and watched as
the two men crossed the room.

“If the boss says watch the door, you’d better watch the door,” the older one growled.
“I don’t even want this job,” whined the first voice.
“How ’bout your life—you want to keep that? Because Ness’ special severance package is a

bullet in the head and two in the chest—sound good to you?”

The other man’s mumbled answer was lost as the two disappeared down the hall. Rhodes

caught Trevor’s shoulder, holding him still as he waited. The silence stretched across a minute,
then two, before Rhodes lifted his hand and nodded when Trevor looked at him in question. The
two slipped out of their hiding spot and rushed to the stairs, scrambling up them as quietly as pos-
sible.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Rhodes finally sucked in a relieved breath. Peeking

around the corner, he saw that the hallway was empty. He quickly took a step toward the door
across the hall. The door that led to the alley—and freedom.

In his peripheral vision, Rhodes saw one of the office doors swinging open.
Whipping around, Rhodes shoved Trevor behind him with one arm and reached for his gun

with the other. Before he could pull his weapon clear, he saw the startled face of an elderly woman
pushing a cart loaded with cleaning supplies from the room.

Forcing a smile, Rhodes tucked his gun back into the holster. “Good morning,” he greeted

her. The woman gave an uncertain nod. Rhodes again reached for the door, grabbing Trevor by
the sleeve and yanking him along.

Flipping the deadbolt on the side door, Rhodes yanked it open and felt the cool spring air flut-

ter over him. He pushed Trevor outside and looked back at the cleaning woman, who was staring
at them.

“Lock this after us,” he ordered. “Please.”
After a moment, the woman nodded and Rhodes gave her a relieved grin of thanks. “You do

really good work,” he added. “It’s very clean in here.” With a final nod, he followed Trevor out,
pulling the door closed behind him.

“We’re out,” he muttered to Wash. “Same alley on the west side, headed north. We’ll exit at

Market Street. Pick us up there.”

“I’m on it,” Wash confirmed.
Rhodes fought the impulse to hurry, keeping his walk casual. Trevor must have felt the same

urgency, as his steps increased in speed until he was almost jogging. Before Trevor could break
into an all-out run, Rhodes caught his arm, pulling him slightly behind him so he could keep a
shoulder in front of Trevor’s and control his speed.

By the time they reached Market Street, Wash had pulled up to the alley entrance and Trevor

and Rhodes piled in. When the door locks clicked after Wash put the car into drive, Rhodes finally

felt like he could breathe. They had made it. They hadn’t rescued Miguel but, on the positive side,
they’d probably found his location. Plus, no one had been shot.

In the backseat, Trevor started to laugh. “‘You do very good work’?”
Glancing over at Wash, Rhodes saw his partner grinning at him too.
“Seemed polite,” Rhodes muttered with a shrug, although a smile was pulling at his mouth.

“You’re one to be acting all superior. If I hadn’t grabbed you, you would’ve torn out of there
screaming, arms flailing.”

“Nuh-uh!” Trevor looked so offended that Rhodes had to laugh. “I might’ve run screaming

but I wouldn’t have been waving my arms around. That’d been lame. I don’t do lame.”

Rhodes put on a mock-terrified face, holding his arms out in the best imitation he could

muster in the confines of the car. “Help me! Help me!” he squeaked. “Ness is after me! He’s going
to slime me!”

Both Trevor and Wash were laughing so hard they were almost choking.
“Whoa, Wash!” Rhodes grabbed the handle above the car door and pointed out the wind-

shield. “Watch your driving.”

“Sorry,” Wash apologized, wiping his eyes and refocusing on the mid-morning traffic. “So

you think the kid’s in the room you found?”

“Seems likely,” replied Rhodes, sobering quickly. “A new keypad lock without a manual

override in a basement full of unlocked storage rooms?”

Wash nodded. “He’s hiding something in there.”
“That’s what I figured,” Rhodes agreed as Wash merged onto the interstate. “Plus the guards

were talking about ‘the kid’. Think you can hack a Global Security keypad lock, model Eight-
Fifty-Eight?”

“Shit.” Wash made a face. “Global Security locks are a real bitch.”
Leaning forward, Trevor chimed in, “Besides, Gafferty and Lowe are guarding the room now.

Shouldn’t we tell your cop friend?”

With a snort, Wash said, “Sure. If the cops manage to get a warrant, they’ll burst in and, be-

fore they get all the way through the door, those two guards you just mentioned will have the kid
hustled out the back.”

“Won’t the police have the back door covered?” Trevor asked, looking confused.
“I’m not talking about the official back door,” Wash explained. “If Ness is using that place as

a hiding hole for the kiddos, he has an escape route.”

“Oh.” Trevor nodded.
“So what do we do—wait until Friday?” Rhodes frowned, not at all happy with that idea. He

knew that Wash could handle himself—Rhodes just didn’t trust Ness as far as he could throw the
slimy bastard. If the deal went down as Ness planned, under Ness’ rules, at Ness’ club… Rhodes
shook his head. That was giving the other man entirely too much control over the situation.

“Yeah, it has to be Friday. But that doesn’t mean Ness gets to call the shots,” Wash said, inter-

rupting his partner’s unhappy thoughts. A small smile played around Wash’s mouth. Rhodes knew
that look. That look meant Wash had a plan.

With a satisfied grunt, Rhodes sat back against his seat. “Good.”
“What?” Trevor asked Wash, confused. “So what are you saying?”
“Chill, wee Trev.” Wash reached back to pat the other man on the head but Trevor pulled

away. Wash just shrugged, not at all offended. “Patience is a virtue.”

“Fuck patience,” Trevor muttered, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest.
Rhodes barked a laugh. “Don’t worry, Trev. You’ll soon discover that Wash’s plans are worth

waiting for.”

Chapter Eight

They stopped at Trevor’s apartment to change clothes. In Trevor’s bedroom, Rhodes pulled

his borrowed shirt off over his head and unfastened the button on his pants. Glancing up, his hand
froze on his zipper.

Trevor was watching him, staring at him with fixed, hungry fascination. When Rhodes met

his gaze, Trevor flushed a little but didn’t look down.

“Is it, um, always like this?” Trevor asked, his voice rough.
Quirking a questioning eyebrow, Rhodes asked, “Is what like what?”
“This job,” Trevor explained. “Is it always this much fun?”
With a huff of amusement, Rhodes unzipped and shoved his pants over his hips, allowing

them to crumple to the floor. “No. Not always.” He thought about it for a second. “Sometimes
though—yeah.”

“Does it,” this time Trevor did drop his gaze, “you know, all the excitement and everything,

does it…um, make you hard?”

Rhodes felt a frill of excitement chase down his spine to his cock. “Sure,” he said, trying to

keep his voice casual.

“You hard right now?” Trevor asked, his cheeks flushed as he raised his head to meet Rhodes’

gaze.

“Well, I wasn’t.”
Trevor smiled at that, his eyes fixed on the growing bulge tenting the front of Rhodes’ boxer

briefs. Rhodes was tempted—very tempted—but then he glanced up to see Wash in the doorway.

“Don’t let me stop you guys,” Wash said, pulling the door shut as he backed out of the room.

Rhodes could tell his partner was trying for casual but he knew Wash too well—there was nothing
casual about the tight line of Wash’s mouth or the way he couldn’t look at Rhodes.

“Fuck,” Rhodes groaned.
“I doubt that.” Trevor shook his head, looking at the doorway that had held Wash a second

ago. “That you and I will, at least.” His half-sad, half-wry smile sent another jolt of guilt through
Rhodes.

“Trev…” he started but Trevor shook his head.
“It’s okay,” Trevor insisted. “You guys are a couple. I knew what I was getting into from the

start. I’m not complaining. I always go for the unavailable guys—it’s a character flaw of mine.”

“We’re not…” Rhodes paused, glancing at the floor, and Trevor laughed.
“Please,” he scoffed. “You two act more like an old married couple than my grandparents did

and they were together for fifty-two years.”

A grin curled Rhodes’ mouth. “Grandparents, huh? You make us sound…hot.”
Trevor just rolled his eyes and headed for the door. “I’m giving you guys a present. I’ll send

Grandma in here and you two can get your rocks off. I’ll be in the shower, jerking off. Hurry up,
though, ’cause I’m kicking you out soon. I need a nap. Some bastard woke me up at the ass-crack
of dawn and called me a bitch.”

With that, Trevor walked out the door, shutting it behind him. Standing alone in Trevor’s bed-

room in his underwear, Rhodes could only blink in surprise. He heard the muffled sound of Trevor
talking and Wash answering, although he couldn’t make out the words. With a sigh, he reached
for his pants.

“Why is Trevor calling me ‘grandma’ now?” Wash’s voice startled Rhodes. He dropped his

pants and jerked upright. Wash was back in the doorway again.

Rhodes scowled. “I don’t know. Maybe because ‘insecure thirteen-year-old girl’ takes too

long?”

Instead of being offended, Wash just grinned. “Probably.” Taking a step into the room, he

pulled the door shut behind him. Rhodes sighed. Obviously there was going to be a talk. At this
point, he didn’t care about getting off—he just wanted to be left in peace to put his clothes on.

“I’m sorry,” Wash told him, jamming his hands in his pockets and staring at the ceiling. “I’m

jerking you around and it’s not fair.”

Rhodes shrugged. Since it appeared that there was no getting out of this discussion, he moved

over to the bed and sat down. He figured he might as well be comfortable.

“I keep saying it’s ’cause we work together but that’s just an excuse. It’s not even a question

of whether I want you or not,” Wash explained, crossing the room to sit next to Rhodes. “I do
want you—but that only makes it worse.”

His stomach jumped at the words even though he couldn’t figure out what Wash was saying.

Rhodes thought about it for another second. It still didn’t make any sense. “What?”

It was Wash’s turn to sigh. “Everything you went through, everything you still go through…I

don’t know if I want that.”

“Nobody wants that, dumbass,” Rhodes said. “Why are you talking as if this is something I

picked, like I thought one day, ‘You know, being a cop isn’t tough enough. Why don’t I be gay
too? That way, I can be harassed and laughed at behind my back every day of my career until I’m
finally booted for a transparently lame-ass reason’.” He realized that his voice had been growing
louder and louder as he talked. Closing his eyes, he fell back onto the mattress.

“Course I don’t think you picked it, Rhodie,” Wash explained. “What I’m deciding is if a life-

time of half-assed, not-very-satisfying sex with various women and an occasional covert hook-up
with random guys is worth not having to put up with all that shit.”

Turning his head, Rhodes opened one eye to peer at Wash. “You do realize how stupid that

sounds, right?”

“Yeah,” Wash sighed. “Completely stupid.” He flopped back onto the bed next to Rhodes. “It

just bugs the ever-loving shit out of me to see you and Trevor together. So I figure we should be
together—you know, like a couple. But then I think about that and it totally freaks me out too, so
I’m kind of stuck.”

Rhodes grunted in agreement, closing his eye again.
“Know what the worst part is?” Wash asked after a few seconds of silence.
Not getting to fuck your brains out on Trevor’s bed? “What?”
“Never thought I’d be such a cock-blocking, blue-ball-causing asshole,” Wash grumbled,

making Rhodes bark out a laugh. “It’s partly your fault, you know,” Wash continued.

Rhodes’ eyes popped open so he could stare at Wash. “What the fuck are you talking about?

My fault?” He was instantly suspicious, since Wash’s widest trouble-making grin was creasing his
cheeks.

“Well if you weren’t so hot…” Wash complained. Rhodes snaked out an arm to catch his part-

ner around the waist and yank him in. With a shout of laughter, Wash tried to get away but Rhodes
had a tight grip around his back.

Wash finally subsided, still laughing, stretched across Rhodes’ naked chest.
“Would you…let me do something?” Wash asked, his voice uncertain.
Rhodes felt a flush of anticipation and nerves. “What?”
“I never did get to suck you off,” Wash told him, his confidence slowly returning. “And I

think, to make the best decision, I need to have all the possible data.”

“Blowjob data?” Rhodes croaked, trying to sound doubtful even though his heart had begun

to hammer at the very idea of Wash’s mouth around his cock. Rhodes squeezed his eyes closed
and opened them again so he could stare at Wash. That would be a thousand jerk-off fantasies
come true.

“Sure.” Wash rolled onto his side and then wiggled back until he knelt next to Rhodes’ hip. “I

would think blowjob data would be the most important kind when making a life-altering decision
like this, don’t you?”

Still unable to breathe, Rhodes could only make an unintelligible grunt. A blowjob from his

gorgeous, funny, sexy friend. His best friend. His partner. If Wash was going to suck his cock, that
was worth giving up anything, including any chance of a fuck with Trevor.

Wash eased Rhodes’ boxer briefs down past his thighs, calves and ankles and then finally

tugged them all the way off.

“Scoot back,” Wash told him and Rhodes obeyed, shifting until his whole body was stretched

diagonally across the bed. Nudging Rhodes’ knees apart, Wash climbed between his legs.

He lowered his head until his lips nearly touched Rhodes’ erection.
It was really happening. Rhodes could feel a puff of hot breath on the wet tip of his straining

cock.

“Wash,” Rhodes gritted. If Wash didn’t hurry up and suck him, Rhodes was two seconds away

from begging. Wash glanced up at him, a sultry, knowing half-smile curving his lips, and Rhodes

groaned, letting his head tip back as his eyes closed. Looking at Wash, watching that sexy, tousled
head dip toward his cock, shredded Rhodes’ control. Better to shut out the sight of his beautiful
partner, to focus on the inside of his eyeli—

Shit!
His entire body jolted as Wash’s tongue grazed the tip of his cock, driving all of Rhodes’

breath from his body, like he’d been punched in the stomach. Wash lapped at the head, probed the
leaking slit, drew a slick line the length of his cock and back up again.

“Please,” Rhodes panted, not caring that he was begging. “Wash, please!”
Turning his face up to Rhodes, Wash cocked a curious eyebrow, playing like he had no idea

what Rhodes was asking for. Rhodes glared at him, his molars grinding. Wash, the asshole, knew
perfectly well what Rhodes wanted—what he needed so desperately. Wash just widened his eyes,
his lips twitching on a grin.

“Bastard,” Rhodes growled, grabbing Wash’s head with both hands. He had intended to shove

Wash down, to drive his cock deep into his teasing partner’s throat, but Rhodes paused, distracted
by the silky slide of Wash’s hair through his fingers. His hands gentled, stroking along Wash’s
skull, weaving patterns through the floppy strands.

Teasing smile falling away, Wash stared at him. His face softened, so full of love and longing

and connection that Rhodes could hardly bear it. Tears pricked the back of his eyes and, recoiling
from the thought that he might cry, right here in front of Wash in the middle of a blowjob, Rhodes
shoved Wash’s face toward his cock.

Wash lowered his head willingly, letting Rhodes’ erection slide between his lips and across

his tongue. All thoughts, all logic slid away. There was only the feel of Wash’s mouth around his
cock, sucking and licking. It didn’t matter that Wash had more enthusiasm than experience—just
the fact that it was Wash’s lips, Wash’s tongue, made this the best blowjob of Rhodes’ entire life.

“Christ…so sweet…Wash,” he groaned. He wanted to tell Wash how amazing it felt, how

truly fucking fabulous, but there wasn’t enough room in Rhodes’ brain to string together words
into sentences that actually made sense. All his synapses were busy shooting off firecrackers of
pleasure.

Choking a little, Wash backed off to explore the head of Rhodes’ cock with his tongue. After

a few moments, Wash tried again and managed to take almost the whole length into his mouth, his
lips stretching wide as his throat swallowed around the tip.

He pulled his head back and then swallowed his cock again, picking up a rhythm with the

guidance of Rhodes’ hands on his head. One of his hands explored Rhodes’ balls, kneading and
squeezing and tugging with the expert hand of someone with the same equipment.

Wash groaned and Rhodes cried out, his hips thrusting into Wash’s mouth. Rhodes had felt

the buzzing vibration of Wash’s moan down the entire length of his cock. Sucking and swallow-
ing, Wash brought his head down again, taking in his thick length. His lips tightened around the
base of Rhodes’ cock…

With a roar, Rhodes came. He barely had a chance to warn Wash before exploding, filling

Wash’s mouth and throat with his cum. Wash didn’t pull back. Instead, he swallowed everything
Rhodes gave him, sucking the last drops until Rhodes had to pull free, his cock too sensitive to
take Wash’s attentions anymore.

Wash crawled up his body, stretching himself over Rhodes. Looking up at Wash’s dazed,

hungry face, his lips swollen, Rhodes had to kiss him. As their mouths touched in a gentle pause,
emotions hammered at Rhodes—gratitude and affection and panic, all hitting him at once.

Ending the kiss, Rhodes looked at him and ran shaking knuckles gently across Wash’s cheek.
“I know,” Wash said roughly.

The first half of the drive to Rhodes’ apartment was silent.
“I’ve been thinking…” Wash’s voice was so tentative that Rhodes’ hands tightened on the

wheel.

“What?” Rhodes finally managed to grunt out when Wash didn’t finish the sentence.
“I need a couple days,” Wash finally admitted.
“For what?” His voice was harsh but Rhodes preferred that over the heartbroken wail that

echoed in his brain. He knew what needing time meant—needing space, needing to see other
people, needing to fuck women, needing to be anywhere except with Isaac Rhodes.

“Just to figure things out.”
“We’re in the middle of a case right now. I need you—” Rhodes’ voice cracked and he cleared

his throat. “I need you to make this thing work on Friday night.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Wash hurried to assure him. “I just need to maybe not… I mean,

maybe we could quit with the, you know, sex stuff for now.”

There it was. Bald and ugly, sitting on the seat between them. Rhodes knew this had been

inevitable from the second Wash had actually kissed him back. It made it worse though, now that
Rhodes knew what it could be like.

“Sure. Whatever.” The words sounded raw but Rhodes was just happy he’d managed to say

anything at all, since his lungs had stopped working.

“It’s just…I mean…” Wash sighed. “It was just messing around at first, you know? Fun and

sexy, like the ultimate in friends with benefits, but then suddenly we’re a couple and there are,
like, feelings and shit.”

“I said okay,” Rhodes repeated through his teeth. Each word from Wash ripped its claws

across his stomach. He didn’t think he could take any more hits.

“It’s not just sex anymore, Rhodie,” Wash continued anyway. “It’s something bigger and

deeper and it isn’t how I’ve always seen myself. I mean, when I’ve pictured who I’d fall in lo—”

“Stop!” Rhodes barked. He just couldn’t talk this out. Not now. He couldn’t hear about

Wash’s ten-year plan, about his future wife and kids and fucking minivan.

“Fine.” Turning his head to stare out the window, Wash said quietly, “We’ll talk about this

later then.”

Later. Maybe then Rhodes would be able to breathe again. Maybe later, the roaring in his ears

would quiet down and his hands would stop shaking. Maybe then he wouldn’t be able to actually
feel his heart tearing in two.

Chapter Nine

“Check it out.” Wash proudly held out an unassuming box about the size of his palm.
Rhodes eyed the object. “Yeah?”
“Well, I was expecting a little more enthusiasm,” Wash grumbled. “I’ve only been working

on this thing for three days straight.”

“Not my fault you’re slow.” As soon as the surly words left his mouth, Rhodes felt guilty.

Three restless, Wash-less nights had passed while Wash worked on “figuring things out”. To
Rhodes’ relief, Wash hadn’t tried to talk to him about it. Although the pain in his chest had settled
down to a steady dull throb, the idea of discussing how Wash wanted to be work partners and
nothing more made Rhodes feel like throwing up.

Rhodes knew that all the emotional shit—plus the lack of sex—was making him a touch

snarly. He sighed and sat back in his desk chair. “Sorry. Show me your thing.”

Wash grinned. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” When Rhodes just growled, Wash waved off

the failed joke and thrust the box at Rhodes. “Isn’t it pretty?”

Raising an eyebrow, Rhodes looked at the box and then back at Wash. “No.”
With an offended expression, Wash pulled the box back in against his chest. “It is too.”
“Are you petting that metal thing?” Rhodes asked in disbelief. “Besides, is it smart to hold it

that close to you? Isn’t it supposed to blow up?”

“Nope.” Wash dug in his pocket and produced another object, this one a smaller rectangle.

“Just get a little warm.”

“That the remote?” Rhodes wondered, leaning forward for a better look at the smaller object.

Despite his foul mood, he was growing interested.

Wash nodded, holding the remote up so Rhodes could see. “Yep,” he said proudly. “It’ll ac-

tivate all these little buggers,” he held up the larger box, “that we manage to plant within a two-
hundred-foot radius.”

Reaching across his desk for a roll of paper, Rhodes told him, “This might help.”
“Club plans?”
Rhodes nodded. “Took a little trip to the Building Department’s records room.”
His eyes lighting up, Wash shoved the remote in his pocket and casually plopped the device

on the corner of Rhodes’ desk. He pulled a chair closer and grabbed the architectural plans from
Rhodes.

Rhodes eyed the object on his desk with concern. “Don’t be lighting my stuff on fire.”
With a distracted shrug, Wash rolled the plans out. “It should be fine.”
“Should?”
Wash glanced up and grinned. “Don’t worry, Mom—I promise not to burn your office down.”
“Better not,” Rhodes grumbled, moving around his desk so he could look at the plans right-

side up. “You think I’m cranky now…”

Wash’s grunt in response sounded fairly unconcerned as he flipped the sheets until he landed

on the main floor plan. Except for the V.I.P. area and the hallway of offices, the rest of the club

was open. “Looks likes three of these babies should do it tomorrow.” Wash tapped the device sit-
ting on Rhodes’ desk.

“What about the basement? Think there are—”
“What’s that?”
At Amelia Gomez’s sharp question, both Wash and Rhodes jerked up and whirled around.

The detective was standing in the office doorway.

“When did she get here?” Wash asked under his breath. “I think we need a receptionist.”
“Or at least a fucking bell on the door,” Rhodes muttered, reaching behind his back to try

to surreptitiously roll the plans up with one hand. All he managed to do was crumple the sheets,
making a rustling noise in the process. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wash shift and guessed
that his partner was pocketing the device.

Gomez frowned. “What are you guys looking at?” she pressed, walking toward them. Wash

and Rhodes pressed their shoulders together, trying to hide the plans from Gomez. Giving up on
rolling the paper sheets, Rhodes gave them a hard shove, wincing as he heard them fall noisily to
the floor behind his desk.

Propping her fists on her hips, Gomez’s eyes narrowed to menacing slits. “You will tell me

what’s going on, you motherfucking, cock-sucking, case-stealing sons of bitches!”

“Whoa, what a mouth!” Wash stared at Gomez, his mouth open. “Melie, I think I love you.”
“Fuck off, Washington.” Gomez’s glare didn’t falter. “Well? You going to tell me what’s go-

ing down or do I need to arrest your asses?”

“For what?” Rhodes asked mildly, leaning back against the desk with put-on casualness.

Amelia in a rage was scary.

Gomez choked with fury. “For…for obstruction! Or for…fuck it—I’ll just make some shit

up. It’s been almost a week and you’ve given me nothing. I asked you to help with this case and
you took the entire thing over! I’m not a kid to keep out of the loop, assholes!”

“It’s not you we’re keeping out of the loop, Gomez,” Rhodes told her. “We’re trying to keep

the entire PD out of the situation until we have it resolved. You know they’ll only fuck it up.”

She held her furious stance for a couple seconds before collapsing into one of the guest chairs.

“I know. I know.” Although most of the fight had gone out of her, Gomez’s mouth still held a
pugnacious tightness. “Why can’t you tell me what’s going on? Or do you think I’d be in the way
too?”

“Don’t be a donkey-brain, Melie,” Wash told her. “Of course we think you’re a good detect-

ive. We’d hire you on in a second if you ever decided to quit wasting your life with this cop shit.”

She blinked at him. “Donkey-brain?”
“Wash and I don’t play by department rules. We’re trying to keep your ass out of the shit

storm,” Rhodes told her, failing to keep the impatience out of his voice. “You know that. Why are
you fighting us on this, Gomez?”

Tense silence fell over the office as she glowered at both of them. Finally, the tight line of her

mouth began to soften. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” she sighed. “It’s been a shitty week. Cal’s being
even more of an asshole than usual and I’m having nightmares about that little girl.”

Rhodes just nodded. He knew what that was like. “So…you okay, Gomez?” he asked.

“No,” she sighed, pressing the heels of her hands to her forehead. “I’m not. But that’s my

deal. I’m sorry I dragged you guys into my shit.”

Wash took a step toward her and she recoiled, watching him warily.
“You even think about hugging me, Washington, and I’ll kick your ass,” she warned him.
He shrugged and settled back against the desk. “Not too long ago, you would’ve threatened

to shoot me,” Wash said, sounding cheerful. “I think you’re starting to actually like me.”

Gomez snorted.
“Hate me less then,” Wash amended. “Baby steps.”
Ignoring him, she turned toward Rhodes. “At least tell me you found out something new about

this case.”

“We think so,” Rhodes admitted. “I promise to give you a full report before Monday. Okay?”
She opened her mouth to respond but then closed it when Callum stuck his head in the office

door. Rhodes sighed.

“Instead of a bell on the outside door,” Wash muttered, “can we rig up a shotgun or a land

mine or a trap door opening into an alligator pit or something?”

“Sounds good,” Rhodes told him before nodding stiffly to the detective standing in the door-

way. “Callum.”

“Cal,” Gomez said, sounding as if she were talking through clenched teeth. “I asked you to

wait in the car.”

“Yeah, well, you want a partner you can order around, better look into getting a dog.” Cross-

ing his arms, he leaned his shoulder on the doorframe. “What’d you want with these two fairies,
anyway?”

Rhodes gave Wash a warning elbow in the ribs when he felt his partner tense next to him.
Pushing to her feet, Gomez didn’t answer. “Let’s go,” she told him.
Callum didn’t move. “I’m your partner. You shouldn’t be keeping secrets from me. This have

something to do with that dead girl?”

“No,” Gomez lied flatly, shouldering past him through the doorway. “C’mon.”
After eyeing Rhodes and Wash for a few seconds, Callum pushed off the doorframe. “Later,

fags.”

“See ya, acorn-dick,” Wash called after him. “Hey, Melie—if you could ‘accidentally’ shoot

your partner, I’ll buy you a drink!”

The slam of the outer door reverberated through the office.

Chapter Ten

The moment Trevor spotted them, he waved Wash and Rhodes to the front of the line.

“Sure you don’t want out?” Rhodes muttered, leaning close as the bouncer unhooked the rope

blocking the club door. He saw Trevor set his jaw.

“No. Now get in there,” Trevor growled under his breath and then pinched Rhodes’ ass. Hard.
Tossing a glare back at the smirking bouncer that promised future retribution, Rhodes took

the final steps toward the door.

“Ready, partner?” Wash asked, low-voiced.
Taking a bracing breath, Rhodes felt the hot rush of adrenaline buzzing through him. “Ready.”
“Then let’s do this,” Wash told him and Rhodes pulled open the club door.
The noise was instant, pounding through his body. It was just after ten, late enough for the

club to have filled almost to capacity. Glancing at his partner, Rhodes saw that Wash’s eyes were
lit with the same anticipation that filled him. He gave Wash a slight nod. Wash grinned and they
started working their way toward the V.I.P. area.

Rhodes heaved a sigh as he worked his way through the hordes of men. The bouncer was the

same one who had been guarding the V.I.P. door the past Saturday night. He waved Wash through
and eyed Rhodes warily, probably wondering if he was going to have to toss him out on his ass.
Although he shot the bouncer a glare, Rhodes kept moving. He had things to do that didn’t involve
the V.I.P. room.

He made his way to the bar, not slowing, forcing himself not to glance back at the door that

had just swallowed his partner. Wash was right—he’d been doing this for years before Rhodes
joined him and he’d survived. Wash could take care of himself.

But no matter how much he tried to convince himself that Wash would be fine, worry still

tightened the back of his throat.

After ordering his beer, Rhodes shifted away from the bar, casually working his way toward

the hall leading to the offices. Slouching next to the doorframe, he did a final scan to make sure
no one was watching. When he saw that he was unobserved, Rhodes slipped through the door,
closing it quickly behind him.

He pulled one of Wash’s devices off the tactical belt he had strapped around his waist. His

shirt was baggy, falling over his waistband to his hips. It didn’t do much for showing off his six-
pack abs but it did a pretty good job of hiding his equipment.

The drop ceiling in the hallway was only eight feet high, making it easy for him to reach the

sprinkler head. The device slid over the head smoothly. Wash had cut a narrow channel into the
back of each of the metal boxes, and the stem of the sprinkler slid through the opening, locking
the device into place.

With a satisfied grunt, Rhodes slipped back into the club. That had been the easy one. The

next two were going to be tricky.

And require a little personal humiliation.
Leaving his still-full beer on an unoccupied table as he passed, Rhodes worked his way

through the mass of people to the bathroom. Two other men were standing at the urinals and
Rhodes joined them. One of the men finished and left, but the other washed his hands and messed
with his hair in the mirror, checking how it looked from all possible angles. While Rhodes took

his time zipping back up, he watched out of the corner of his eye as the other man finally gave his
reflection a satisfied nod and walked out.

Once he was alone in the bathroom, Rhodes hurried over to the metal paper towel dispenser

and pulled a small screwdriver from his belt. He unscrewed the front of the dispenser quickly,
knowing it would likely be only a short time before he had company in the bathroom again. The
front of the dispenser fell as he loosened the fourth screw, and Rhodes let the flat square of metal
hang on the partially unscrewed fastener.

Unhooking his tactical belt, he pulled it off. Removing the two remaining devices that Wash

had designed, he dropped them on the counter and folded the belt the best he could with the rest
of his equipment still attached. Rhodes tucked the belt into the dispenser above the stack of folded
paper towels and replaced the dispenser’s metal front.

As he tightened the last screw, the door swung open. Palming the small screwdriver, Rhodes

pivoted toward the sink and began washing his hands while surreptitiously watching the interloper
in the mirror. When the man took up a position at one of the urinals, Rhodes dried his hands with
a towel pulled from the bottom of the dispenser, tucked the two devices into the front of his waist-
band and gave the fourth screw a few final, silent turns before sliding the screwdriver into his
pants pocket and leaving the bathroom.

A stool had opened up at the bar and Rhodes snagged it, settling back to pretend to drink his

new beer as he watched the V.I.P. door.

“Haven’t I seen you here before?” growled a familiar voice in his ear. “In fact, weren’t you in

this exact spot, watching that very door you’re staring at right now?”

“Fuck off,” Rhodes told Trevor mildly without taking his eyes off the V.I.P. entrance. “Aren’t

you supposed to be watching a door too? The front door, maybe?”

“Took a break,” Trevor said, wedging himself in so he could lean on the bar next to Rhodes.

“I did not want to miss this part of the plan.”

Rhodes winced a little. “Great,” he muttered. He raised the beer to his lips again and had to

force himself to only feign drinking, instead of sucking down half the bottle. If there was ever a
time he needed a drink, it was now. “You take any fucking pictures and I’ll shoot you.”

Trevor laughed.
The V.I.P. door opened and Wash emerged, snug under the arm of Ness, who was all greased

up and ready to party. Rhodes straightened, waiting for his cue. When Wash ran his fingers
through his hair, Rhodes hopped off his stool.

“I mean it, Trev,” he warned. “Any pics and you’re a dead man. I don’t care how cute you

are.”

Trevor’s laughter followed him as Rhodes wove his way through the crowd toward where

Ness and Wash stood.

“Isaac,” Ness greeted, holding out a hand. Rhodes shook it, smoothing out his face to hide

any disgust that might creep into his expression.

“Barry,” Rhodes said, dropping his hand. “Having fun?”

“You know it.” Ness smiled and Rhodes had to shove back the almost uncontrollable urge to

punch Ness in the teeth. “Nate here tells me that you had to go to extreme measures to get him to
come with you tonight.”

Here we go, Rhodes thought. He made himself smile. “I did make a crazy bet with him. I told

him it would probably be impossible.”

“On the contrary,” Ness told him, grinning widely. “This is something I would love to see.”

Looking up at the hanging cages that contained barely clad dancing men, Ness mused, “Looks
like Keegan could use a break. You can take his.”

As Ness turned away to say a few words in the V.I.P. bouncer’s ear, Rhodes pulled one of the

devices from his waistband and slipped it to Wash, who tucked it into the front of his own pants.

The bouncer said a few words into his radio and one of the cages began to lower. Rhodes

watched it carefully as it descended. The cage itself resembled a very large birdcage, rounded at
the top. As it neared the floor, the bouncer cleared people from beneath it, leaving an open circle
where the cage could settle.

Keegan pushed open the barred door and climbed out, watching his boss uncertainly. “Did I

do something wrong, Mr. Ness?”

“No, no, Keegan,” Ness assured him. “My friend Isaac here just wanted to take a turn.” He

turned to Rhodes expectantly.

With a resigned sigh, Rhodes stepped into the cage, pulling the door closed behind him. Ness

nodded to the bouncer and, with a small jerk, the cage began to rise. Grabbing a bar for stability,
Rhodes looked down at Wash’s upraised face and almost smiled. When Rhodes had taken this job
over a year ago, he hadn’t expected it would lead to being a cage dancer.

He’d tried to convince Wash to do this part of the plan but Rhodes didn’t have access to the

V.I.P. room. Besides, as pale as Wash had turned at the thought, Rhodes wondered if his partner
didn’t have a secret fear of heights. It was too bad, since Wash would have probably enjoyed the
dancing more than Rhodes. Glancing down again, Rhodes made a face. A lot more.

Less than a foot from the ceiling, the cage stopped and swung slightly. With a quick glance

up, Rhodes confirmed that a sprinkler head was located within reach. Relief rushed through him.
From the plans detailing the club’s layout, it had appeared that a sprinkler head was located above
each cage. However, what was shown on a set of plans and what had actually been installed could
have been very different—that would have put a definite crimp in their plan.

“Here goes nothing,” Rhodes muttered, pressing a button on his watch to start the preset timer.

Wash had three minutes. Focusing straight ahead, he ignored the teeming crowd below and the
other cage dancers, who had all turned to watch him curiously. Rhodes pretended that no one else
was there, that he was alone—alone except for Wash.

Holding his partner’s face in his mind, Rhodes began moving his hips. The image of Wash

caught him and he really began to dance, the bass line vibrating through the cage and into his
body. His skin ran with sweat and he yanked his shirt over his head. Even over the music, Rhodes
heard the roar of approval from the crowd below, yanking him out of his fantasy of a dark room
holding only him and Wash.

In reality, he knew that Wash was the only person in the club not watching him dance. If he

was following the plan, Wash would have told Ness that he’d left his cell phone in the V.I.P. room,

so he was going to run back and grab it so he could take some pictures of Rhodes in the cage.
Once in the V.I.P. room, Wash was going to duck into a curtained alcove where Ness had tried to
feel him up last weekend, climb on the table and plant the second device on a sprinkler.

They had wanted to use earpieces and microphones to communicate but, due to the unfortu-

nate likelihood that Ness was going to have his tongue in Wash’s ear, they’d decided to go without.
No gun, no contact with Wash…Rhodes felt naked. He glanced down at his bare chest and made
a face—really naked, rather than the half-naked he actually was.

Although he was far enough above the crowd and the lights were dim enough that it was

unlikely anyone could see the device in his waistband, he shoved it lower while pretending he
was about to unbutton his pants. This made the crowd howl encouragement. Although the device
was probably pressing an odd square outline against the front of his pants, Rhodes hoped anyone
who saw it would just assume it to be an unusual pleat in the fabric. That, or maybe an unusually
blocky cock. He snorted at the thought.

Tightening his jaw, Rhodes forced himself to keep moving, to grip the bars above his head

and grind against the cage. His audience seemed to like that. Rhodes risked a quick glance down to
see if Wash had returned from his errand in the V.I.P. room yet. No Wash stood below, so Rhodes
continued to dance.

He checked out the other cage dancers, hoping that he could copy some of their moves, but

they were too busy watching Rhodes to do more than lazily undulate to the music. He tried to
imitate Wash’s move from the previous weekend, the one that had dried Rhodes’ mouth and at-
tracted Ness’ attention. Judging from the renewed roar from the crowd below, Rhodes figured he
had been at least partially successful.

The vibration of his watch made Rhodes jump. He looked down and saw Wash had rejoined

Ness and was currently snapping pictures with his cell phone.

“Asshole,” Rhodes muttered. He could only hope that the dark shadows of the club swallowed

up the camera phone’s flash. If not, maybe he could grab Wash’s phone later and drop it in a con-
venient drink before Wash could send the photos to everyone they knew. Christ, if Gomez saw
them, she’d never let him live it down.

Wash slipped his phone into a pocket and pulled Ness against him, turning the club owner

around so that Ness’ back was to Rhodes’ cage. From his vantage point, Rhodes could see the
flickering club lights glinting off Ness’ bald spot. That made him smile.

His grin dropped away when Wash pulled Ness’ head down for a kiss. Rhodes had to restrain

himself from jumping out of the cage onto Ness and beating him into the floor. Instead, he hit his
watch timer button again and palmed the final device, pulling it out of his pants.

Reaching above his head with both hands, Rhodes stretched up, forced onto his tiptoes to

reach the ceiling. He kept his hips moving, trying to keep up a semblance of a dance—and finally
his fingers bumped against his target. His heart jumped in triumph as he slid the device over the
sprinkler head, quickly locking it into place just as his watch alarm vibrated.

Dropping his arms, Rhodes gripped the bars and rotated his hips, completely out of dance

ideas. He felt like he’d been in the cage forever.

Shooting a desperate glance at the watchers down below, Rhodes saw that Wash was saying

something in Ness’ ear. The club owner nodded and gestured to the bouncer. To Rhodes’ intense

relief, the cage began to descend. He held the bars for balance until the cage bumped to the floor.
Immediately, Rhodes shoved the cage door open and stepped out.

“Not bad.” Ness leaned close enough to speak directly into Rhodes’ ear. “But remember,

you’re here to do business tonight. Meet me in the office at midnight with the money.” Ness
smirked as he looked toward Wash, who was standing a few feet away, laughing as he scrolled
through the pictures he had just taken.

“Of course,” Rhodes said as deferentially as possible. “I’ll be there.”
Ness eyed him up and down. “You did bring the money, didn’t you? I didn’t see it anywhere

on you during your little…show. As luscious as Nate is, he’s in no way payment in full.”

“Don’t worry,” Rhodes told him, unable to resist a predatory grin. “I stashed it somewhere

safe. You’ll get your money.”

After eyeing him for a few seconds, Ness nodded. “Don’t let me down, Isaac.”
“I won’t,” Rhodes lied. Wash rushed over to Ness and tugged his arm, urging him back toward

the V.I.P. room. Despite knowing that this was only part of the plan, it still really bothered Rhodes
to see Wash hanging off the greasy fucker.

He didn’t have time to fume, however. Rhodes cut through the crowd, dismissing the men

complimenting him on his cage dance with curt nods. Hands brushed against him, making him
claustrophobic, and he had to force himself to not break one stranger’s fingers when the man
groped his ass. He didn’t need anyone calling the cops though—at least not yet.

It was harder to clear the bathroom this time. Guys kept trying to talk to him, to ask him out,

to make propositions involving the two of them and the single bathroom stall. Rhodes finally had
to retreat to the cubicle holding the toilet and slam the flimsy door in a persistent admirer’s face.

The seconds ticked by as men milled around the bathroom, waiting for Rhodes to come out.

Tipping his head back to rest on one of the plastic walls, Rhodes stewed. Why had he hidden the
belt in the bathroom? Why not drop it in one of the dozens of dark corners around the club where
he could cruise by and snag it without any of the drunken patrons being any wiser?

By the time the bathroom grew silent, Rhodes was almost frothing at the mouth with impa-

tience. Sticking his head out of the bathroom stall, Rhodes saw that the room was indeed empty.
He hurried over to the paper towel dispenser, pulling the tiny screwdriver from his pocket.

Working fast, he managed to get the front of the dispenser off before anyone else came in.

Rhodes grabbed the belt and buckled it on, pulling his shirt down to cover it. As he began to tight-
en the first screw, a slim blond shoved through the door, grinning when he saw Rhodes.

“That was a hot little solo you just did,” the stranger purred, moving in close as Rhodes

quickly palmed the screwdriver and leaned a shoulder against the wall in as casual a stance as he
could manage.

“Thanks,” Rhodes muttered. The paper towel dispenser fell open, swinging a little on the

single screw, and Rhodes tapped it with a finger. “This thing’s broken.”

The other man barely spared the dispenser a look. “Whatever. Want to do a private perform-

ance at my place?”

“Sorry,” Rhodes said, brushing past. “I’m all booked up.”

Checking his watch as he left the bathroom, Rhodes saw with a start that he had only five

seconds. Counting down in his head, he slipped a hand under the hem of his shirt and found the
remote by feel. At “zero”, he pushed the button and then started the countdown in his head again.

When they had tested Wash’s devices, the heating mechanism had taken between thirty-seven

and thirty-nine seconds to melt the sensing element that activated the sprinklers. He mentally
counted as he worked his way through the crowd toward the office hallway door. Twenty-two,
twenty-three, twenty-four—

With a blare of the fire alarm, the lights went off and water began showering from the ceiling.
“Fuck!” In the dull glow of the emergency lights, Rhodes could see he was still fifteen feet

from the hallway door. The club filled with shrieks and yells as people covered their heads with
their hands and surged toward the main exit. Rhodes worked his way upstream, swearing as some
man’s flailing arm caught him in the gut.

Finally slipping through the hallway door, Rhodes figured sprinklers that went off ten seconds

earlier than expected were better than a cheap-ass system that didn’t go off at all. The hall was
empty, lit only by the dim emergency lights. Rhodes positioned himself so he’d be behind the door
when it opened. That would give him a good two seconds to react before the other person knew
he was there. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Rhodes hit a speed-dial button and held the cell
to his ear, hoping that the water didn’t fry his phone.

When Amelia answered, he yelled over the blaring fire alarm, “Gomez! Get your ass over to

Ness’ club, Stand and Deliver, if you want in on this case. Just follow the fire trucks.”

“Rhodes?” she sputtered. “What the hell?”
Without answering, Rhodes snapped the phone closed and dropped it back in his damp pock-

et.

The door swung open and Rhodes tensed. Wash’s water-streaked, grinning face popped

around the edge.

“Ness outside?” Rhodes asked, relaxing a fraction.
“Last I saw him, he was knocking people over to be the first out the front door. Good thing

there aren’t any little old ladies or baby bunnies here, because Ness would’ve trampled them in a
second,” Wash predicted.

Baby bunnies? Rhodes just shook his head and headed down the hall toward the basement

door.

They moved fast, following the beam from the flashlight that Rhodes pulled from his belt.

Hiding the belt had been a time-consuming risk but there’d only been so much Rhodes could wear
while cage dancing. They’d known that Ness would be feeling Wash up all night, so there’d been
a definite limit to the equipment Wash could carry.

Taking the stairs three at a time, Rhodes led the way down into the basement storage area.

As they’d predicted, there were no sprinklers on this level, although the main lights had gone out
when the upstairs ones had. The alarms could be heard but the sound was muffled enough that
Rhodes doubted any fire alarms were located in the basement.

Rhodes flicked off the flashlight when they got closer to the locked room. Blinking, he gave

his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the very few, very dim emergency lights that illuminated the
hallway. He could hear the two guards arguing.

“What if the place is on fire?” demanded the man Rhodes recognized as the younger of the

pair who’d walked by his and Trevor’s hiding spot earlier in the week.

“Don’t be an idiot,” said the other guard. “It’s just a false alarm. There’s no fire. Do you smell

any smoke?”

“No,” the first speaker said sulkily. “But that doesn’t mean—”
“Sure it does,” the older man interrupted. “We leave this room unguarded and Ness’ll have

our nuts for breakfast.”

Staying in the shadows, Rhodes moved closer to where the men stood in front of the locked

door. Pulling the pin on a smoke grenade, he rolled it in the direction of the guards and quickly
retreated. He and Wash ducked into the mechanical room and pulled the door almost closed.

“Smoke!” the younger guard yelped. “Smoke! The place is on fire. I’m so out of here! You

can stay if you want to be a crispy critter. Personally, I don’t like my job enough to die for it. If
Ness wants my nuts, at least they won’t be roasted!” He hurried past the room where Rhodes and
Wash hid.

After five seconds had passed, Rhodes sighed silently. He’d hoped that they wouldn’t have to

get into it with any of the guards but it looked like the older man was sticking it out.

Wash poked him and gestured toward the thin crack between the door and the doorframe.

Rhodes leaned closer to look out into the dark shadows. The second guard stomped by, headed
toward the stairs.

Holding back a triumphant sound, Rhodes just squeezed Wash’s shoulder. He saw a flash

of Wash’s white teeth in the darkness as his partner grinned at him. They waited another fifteen
seconds, just to make sure that one of the guards didn’t change his mind and come back.

“Nice of them to leave a kid locked in what they think is a burning building,” Wash muttered.

Rhodes grunted in agreement.

They made their way over to the locked door. The smoke still hung heavily, scratching

Rhodes’ throat and making his eyes water. With a muffled cough, Wash moved toward the lock,
while Rhodes tried the door on the next room over. The knob twisted under his hand and the door
swung in.

It was yet another storage room. Rhodes picked his way through the scattering of shelves,

boxes and miscellaneous junk. When he reached the wall that adjoined the locked room, he cleared
the area in front of it, giving him room to work.

From a case clipped to his belt, Rhodes pulled his favorite toy ever—a cordless reciprocating

saw the size of a small electric knife. The rough, hasty look of the basement made Rhodes suspect
that walls made from two-by-fours and drywall had just been tossed up willy-nilly as needed. It
was worth checking to see if Ness had bothered reinforcing the room he was using as a cage. If
not, if Ness had just thrown a lock on the door and called it secure, Rhodes was in luck.

Tapping his knuckles against the wall, Rhodes located a wood stud and started his cut a few

inches to the right. As the saw slipped easily through the drywall, he hoped that this particular
section of wall was free of electrical wiring. To Rhodes’ relief, he wasn’t electrocuted as he cut a
rough square, just eighteen inches wide.

Flicking the off switch on the saw, he checked out the hole and grinned. No wires, no cinderb-

lock, no reinforcement of any kind—there wasn’t even any insulation. The only thing between

Rhodes and the inside of the locked room was another layer of drywall. Ness was a cheap bastard.
This was good.

The muffled blare of the upper level alarms suddenly stopped. Glancing at the ceiling, Rhodes

thumped his fist lightly against the final barrier into the locked room.

“Miguel?” he whispered as loudly as he dared. “If you can hear me, get away from the wall,

okay?” He waited a second but didn’t hear anything from the other side. The thought occurred to
him that maybe the boy wasn’t even in this room. Maybe Rhodes and Wash were breaking into a
computer room or a storage area holding valuables or…something.

Shaking off the thought, Rhodes started his first cut. Before he even finished the final edge of

his square, he was impatiently pulling chunks of drywall out of the newly created opening. Flash-
ing his Maglite into the hole, his heart fell in disappointment. Instead of being able to see into the
locked room, there was a layer of insulation blocking his view. Of course Ness would’ve installed
soundproofing—how else could he have hid scared, unhappy kids in this room?

The insulation cut easily and Rhodes pulled it out as he went, hoping he wasn’t inhaling fiber-

glass or asbestos or anything else that he probably didn’t want to be sucking into his lungs. Anoth-
er layer of insulation was behind the first. This one looked like a bunch of egg cartons. With a
silent, impatient sigh, he cut a hole in this as well.

Shining the light into the hole, wondering what other impediments were beyond the insula-

tion, Rhodes saw the top half of Miguel’s face instead.

Jerking back in surprise, Rhodes almost fell over.
“Miguel!” he gasped, trying to recover his balance. “I told you to stay back. I could’ve cut

your nose off or something!”

“Sorry,” the boy whispered, his eyes huge.
“Don’t worry about it,” Rhodes told him quietly, excitement at finding Miguel quickly dis-

solving the last traces of his startled sharpness. “Want to get out of there?”

At Miguel’s vehement nod, Rhodes grinned and went to work making the hole bigger. It only

took a few minutes to hack a space large enough for Miguel to fit through, although the boy wasn’t
much help. He kept trying to shove himself into the opening while Rhodes was still cutting.

“Knock it off,” Rhodes hissed, pulling the saw back. “It’d be nice to deliver you to your moth-

er and brother without any facial scarring, okay?”

Miguel reluctantly withdrew, staying very close to the wall, as if Rhodes was going to disap-

pear unless the kid kept an eye on him. Turning off the saw and tucking it back into the holder on
his belt, Rhodes nodded at Miguel and reached through the opening to grip the boy’s upper arms.

“Okay, kid. Out you go.”
Without hesitating, Miguel dove into the hole. His shoulders bumped the edges of the wall

but Rhodes gave his arms a tug and Miguel toppled out on the other side in a shower of drywall
dust and bits of insulation. Rhodes staggered as the boy’s weight fell against him and then had to
bite back a laugh at how strangely birth-like the process had been.

He eyed Miguel’s small frame. “Little as you are, I still wouldn’t want to push you out,” he

muttered and Miguel blinked in confusion. “Sorry. Never mind. Let’s go tell Wash to give up on
that lock, huh?”

When Miguel only stared at him, still completely baffled, Rhodes shook his head and started

for the door. “I’m not insane—really. Come on.”

With Miguel close behind, Rhodes stepped out of the storage room…
And stopped abruptly.
Ness had a gun barrel resting against Wash’s temple.

Chapter Eleven

Rhodes gave Miguel a shove so the kid stumbled back a few steps into the storage room.

Pulling the door closed, Rhodes turned to face Ness and Wash again.

“Isaac, Isaac, Isaac.” Ness shook his head. “You promised not to disappoint me.”
“Yeah, well, I lie a lot,” Rhodes told him, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of the

Smith and Wesson Sigma pressed against his partner’s head.

“That’s a bad habit,” Ness said. “You should’ve just given me the money.”
It isn’t the money I don’t want to lose, Rhodes thought. He shrugged with a show of casualness

as he slipped his hand into his pocket and closed his fingers around his knife. Keeping it hidden,
Rhodes flicked it open. “That’s a lot of cash to hand over if I don’t have to.”

Ness frowned. “Well, now you don’t get to keep the kid, your lover or that money. Pass it

over.”

Forcing out a laugh, Rhodes told him, “I don’t have it on me. What, you think I just carry that

amount of cash in my pocket? I told you—I stashed it somewhere safe. And why should I hand it
over to you anyway?”

“Because if you don’t, your sweet little boy here is going to be missing half his head.” A

rough edge had worked its way into Ness’ tone and his knuckles had gone white as his fingers
clamped around the grip of the gun. “Shame—it’s such a pretty head.”

Rhodes met Ness’ gaze with a smirk. “You think I care about that piece of ass?” He was re-

warded when Ness’ face fell for just a second before he composed himself. Sensing an advantage,
Rhodes pressed on. “Sweet? Sure. Talented? Yeah, I guess. But guys like him are a dime a dozen,
only good for using a few times and then throwing away.”

Ness didn’t say a word. He was actually speechless. Rhodes was amazed.
“You should keep him for a while,” Rhodes suggested. “I’m sick of him but there’s no sense

in you wasting a perfectly good fuck.”

“Keep him?” Ness repeated.
“Sure,” Rhodes said, carefully keeping his eyes off Wash’s face. “You keep Wash and the kid,

and I take my cash and leave. I’ll never come back into the club and you can sell the boy to some
other lucky guy. Everybody’s happy.”

Wash made a tiny sound and Rhodes avoided his eyes, offering Ness a cool smile. “Almost

everyone then. But you can keep Wash quiet—drugs, money, threats, really good sex…”

“You’re bluffing,” Ness accused Rhodes, who shrugged.
“Not really but whatever. It’s your call.” Rhodes glanced up toward the ceiling. “Better decide

what you want to do—firemen will be busting in here soon.”

Ness’ gaze flicked up to follow Rhodes’—just for a second but it was long enough.
“Up!” Rhodes yelled at Wash, who swung his hand up to slam again Ness’ gun arm, hard

enough that the gun slid up Wash’s temple until the barrel was pointed above his head. Rhodes
pulled his knife from his pocket and threw it, imbedding the blade deeply into Ness’ wrist.

Ness shrieked, a high, shrill cry, and dropped the gun, which skittered across the floor until

it came to rest against the wall. Wash drove his elbow into Ness’ gut. When Ness doubled over,
Wash grabbed a handful of greasy hair and yanked Ness’ face down even farther until it connected
with his drawn-up knee.

Crumpling to the floor, Ness groaned, air burbling through the blood pouring from his nose.

Wash flipped him over and cranked one of Ness’ arms behind his back to hold him still. Over the
pain-filled noises Ness was making and Wash’s muttered curses, Rhodes heard something.

“Quiet!” he snapped, startling the other two men to silence. Now Rhodes could definitely hear

what sounded like the scuff of boots and muffled voices. Someone was in the basement. Hopefully
it was firemen, working their way through the building to ascertain that it was safe, but there was
the possibility that some of Ness’ minions were about to walk in on them. “Hold him,” he hissed
at Wash, who nodded.

Rhodes moved quickly and silently toward the sound, flattening himself into the shadows

along the hallway wall.

“Let me see your hands!” At Amelia Gomez’s bellow, Rhodes grinned, stepping into the cen-

ter of the hallway with his hands raised. Gomez, Callum and two uniformed cops had their guns
trained on him. A wide-eyed Trevor was standing a few steps from the bottom of the stairs. His
part in the plan had been to find Amelia and lead her down to where Miguel was hidden. Obvi-
ously, Trevor had done his job perfectly. Rhodes grinned at him and winked.

“Melie,” Rhodes teased, light-headed with relief. “What took you so long?”
“What took me so long?” she repeated incredulously, although she holstered her gun, which

meant she wasn’t pissed off enough to actually shoot him. “What took me so long? If you had just
let me know what was going on in the first place, you secretive motherfucker, instead of making
me run over here after getting your cryptic phone call in the middle of the night, I might’ve been
a little fucking faster, you asshole.”

By the end of her tirade, the two cops and Trevor were all staring at Gomez with wide eyes.

Callum was holstering his own gun, apparently unruffled by the outflow of profanity from his
partner.

Rhodes swallowed his laughter and put on his best somber face. “Sorry, Melie. I have good

news though.”

“Quit calling me that,” Gomez snapped. “Your partner is rubbing off on you in the worst way

possible.” She paused. “What news?”

“We found Miguel—he’s okay. Oh, and Wash is sitting on your perp.”
Gomez’s face blanked in shock before she shouldered Rhodes out of the way. He stepped

back, allowing her access. Jogging down the hallway with Callum and the cops, Trevor and
Rhodes following, she took in the scene for a fraction of a second before swooping in to kneel
on the back of Ness’ neck while she reached for her handcuffs. Ness screamed as she twisted his
injured arm behind his back.

“Melie!” Wash greeted her cheerily as he released Ness and stood up. Gomez barely rolled

her eyes, too busy examining the knife buried in Ness’ wrist.

“Which of you is responsible for this?” she demanded, jerking her head at his arm as she nar-

rowed her eyes at Rhodes and Wash. They both pointed at each other and then started laughing.
With an exasperated growl, Gomez hauled Ness to his feet and handed him off to the two uni-
formed officers.

“Thank God!” Ness was blubbering, blood and spit flying out with each word. “These two

perverts kidnapped some kid! When I tried to rescue him—”

“Save it.” Gomez cut off his spiel. “Take him out front, Burgess. Radio for a bus, pat him

down and then have a Fire Department medic take a look at his injuries while you’re waiting.
Stay with him the whole time. And it’s probably a good idea to read him his rights on the way
upstairs—he seems pretty chatty.” The cop holding Ness’ right arm nodded and he and the other
officer led him away.

“There’s the gun he held on Wash,” Rhodes told Gomez and Callum, nodding toward the

fallen Sigma. “The pocketknife in his wrist is mine. If you wouldn’t mind getting that back to
me…”

Callum retrieved the gun, shooting Rhodes a sour glare.
“What? I like that knife,” Rhodes protested mildly, still a little giddy about Wash not getting

shot in the head.

“What the fuck is going on?” Callum demanded. “Did you two fags drag us down here to

clean up after a fight with your rich boyfriend?”

Rhodes bristled, opening his mouth to answer, but Wash beat him to the punch.
“No, asshole!” Wash spat out. “We called you down here to get the credit for busting a greasy

fuck-head who was selling kids as sex slaves. So you’re welcome! And you know what? I’m get-
ting pretty fucking tired of your dumbass, gay-bashing comments.”

“Washington,” Gomez warned, trying to head him off, but Wash didn’t even look at her.
“It was motherfucking pricks like you who made Rhodie’s life miserable, when all he wanted

to do was be a good cop,” Wash continued, his voice getting faster and louder. Callum just stared.
“You fucked him over, wrecked his career and why? Just because he likes to sleep with guys?”

“Wash!” Rhodes snapped but Wash ignored him too.
“Well you know what?” Wash was face to face with Callum. Rhodes could see his partner

actually shaking with rage. “Rhodie was a hell of a cop—much better than you’ll ever be—and I
think that drives you crazy. He’s gay and he still kicked your ass!”

“Screw you, you fucking queer!” Callum snarled, his face flushed and twisted.

“That’s all you have, isn’t it, fuck-face?” Wash taunted. “Yeah, I love Rhodie, so what? Call

me a queer or a fag all you want. You’ll still be a shitty, half-assed, stupid-as-fuck cop, so you can
just suck my dick!”

“Wash! Enough!” Rhodes bellowed, staring at his partner.
Did Wash just…come out? Now? To Callum, of all people?
He shot a glance over at Gomez and went cold. Her expression shifted from blank shock

to complete disgust. Rhodes blinked and swallowed, clenching his jaw so tightly he could hear
crackling sounds.

He thought he was over caring what people thought but seeing the distaste on Gomez’s face

felt like a punch to the kidney, sneaky and shocking, taking away his breath before he could even
brace against the pain. He’d always assumed that she knew he was gay—after all, every other cop
in the city did.

“Is that true?” Amelia asked him, as if the words tasted bad on her tongue. “So it was Wash

in bed with you that morning I called?”

Rhodes stared at her and gave a short nod. Fine. If she was going to be an asshole about this,

he’d survive. Gomez was his last contact with the police department but he and Wash didn’t need
to get messed up with the cops’ shit anyway. Washington Investigations had plenty of work that
actually paid. He tried not to think about how this would cut his number of friends by half—from
two to one, in just a few seconds.

“Really, Rhodes?” she said, her voice filled with deep disappointment.
“Yeah.” He’d meant to stay dispassionate but her tone pricked him, plus Callum was listening

with an unpleasant smirk. “You got a problem with that?”

“Well, yeah,” she said, her nose wrinkling. “I mean, Washington? Really? You could do so

much better! I know a ton of guys who’d love to go out with you. My cousin Ray is the sweetest—
Eek!”

She broke off with a squeak as Rhodes dove in to give her a hard hug.
“Put me down! What’s your problem? That’s a fucking good way to get shot, numb-nuts.”

Rhodes released her with a grin, turning to see Callum, red-faced with his smirk wiped away, and
Wash, who was laughing his ass off. Trevor stood back, not saying anything, his expression a mix-
ture of confusion and amusement.

“So where’s Miguel?” Gomez asked, straightening her shirt and looking flustered.
Rhodes gestured toward the door to the room he’d shoved the kid into. “He’s in there. Ness

was keeping him in that room.” Rhodes nodded at the other door. “I yanked him through a hole
I cut in the wall. Ness had a high-tech lock but all that stood between the kid and freedom was
drywall and a couple layers of soundproofing insulation.”

“Could’ve let me in on that,” Wash muttered.
“Yeah, we were just coming to do that when I noticed, you know, the gun. Against your

head.” The reality of the danger Wash had just been in was starting to sink in. Rhodes clenched
his teeth to hold back the torrent of words that wanted to escape, a flood of relief and anger and
love and anguish that Amelia and Trevor definitely did not want to hear. Callum wouldn’t be too
excited about it either.

Turning toward the storage room, Rhodes tried to open the door but the knob wouldn’t turn.

He blinked at the door for a second, uncomprehending, and then realized that Miguel must have
locked it. He grinned. The kid was learning.

Unlike the lock on the other room, this was just an easy button lock, the same as almost every

bathroom in millions of homes. Pulling out his screwdriver, Rhodes slid it into the small hole in
the knob and pushed the button out.

As he opened the door, Rhodes called out, “Hey, Miguel? Don’t worry, kid—it’s just the good

guys now. Wash smashed Ness’ face in for you.” Pulling out his flashlight, Rhodes swung the light
around the room until he finally saw Miguel’s face peeking around a pile of boxes.

“Hey kiddo,” Wash greeted him. He’d followed Rhodes in and now walked up to the boy’s

hiding place and crouched down. “I’m Wash, this is Rhodie and we’re really glad to see you, al-
though not as glad as Carlos is going to be.”

“Carlos?” That was the magic word. Miguel stood up, allowing Wash to pull him in for a

rough hug.

“Who do you think hired us to find you?” Rhodes asked.
Miguel smiled.

Chapter Twelve

“There’s something to be said about this pro bono work,” Wash mused, flopping back on

Rhodes’ couch. “Heh. Bono.”

Rolling his eyes, Rhodes sat down next to him. “Thought you liked the part where we get

paid?”

“Yeah. Getting paid is nice,” Wash said. “It’s just that finding Miguel and getting Ness locked

up gave me a warm, toasty feeling inside.”

“If we quit getting paid, you’ll get kicked out of your apartment and then you’ll have a cold,

clammy feeling on the outside. Plus, you need paying jobs so you can hire Trevor.”

“Hire Trevor?”
“Yep.” Rhodes nodded. “We cost him his job. He’s shown us he can be trusted and he only

gets slightly hysterical during a break-in. You won’t have to interview him or anything.”

Wash grinned. “True. And if we need to check his references, we can just go chat with Ness

in prison. It’ll be good to see him with his hair all messed up. Maybe he’ll have a nice, beefy,
sadistic boyfriend too.”

“We can only hope.”
“Hmm,” Wash murmured. “If we’re going to be paying Trevor, maybe we can just limit our

pro bono work to taking Carlos and Miguel out for breakfast. That’ll keep me toasty on the inside.
I’d like that.”

“Okay.” Rhodes let his head flop back against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. Ex-

haustion pulled at him but the residual echo of terror wouldn’t let him sink into oblivion. “I don’t
like seeing a gun at your head.”

Wash grunted. “Tell me about it. I don’t like feeling a gun on my head.”
Opening his eyes, Rhodes rolled his head to the side so he could look at Wash. He wanted

to grab his partner, pull him against him, never let him go, keep him safe from all the fuck-face,
child-snatching club owners who wanted to shoot new holes in his head. Christ, Rhodes wanted
to hold him so badly that his arms quivered.

“So what’s it going to be?” Rhodes demanded, frustration and longing making his voice

harsher than he’d intended.

Wash turned his head toward Rhodes, obviously startled. “Huh?”
“You wanted time to think. You had time to think. You had three fucking days to think. Now

tell me if it’s still hands-off and you’re going to start dating some breeder or if I can…” Rhodes
ran out of air. His chest hurt.

Wash cocked an eyebrow. “If you can what? Fuck me through the floor?”
Lust punched Rhodes in the stomach and he almost doubled over. “Yeah,” he wheezed, barely

able to breathe. “Just tell me.”

Instead of saying anything else, Wash leaned toward Rhodes and kissed him. With a snarl,

Rhodes shoved him onto his back on the couch and took over the kiss, grinding his mouth into
Wash’s without any finesse. All the lust, all the love, all the daydreams and intimate moments and
over-too-soon touches poured out of Rhodes in that one brutal kiss.

After a while, reason nudged its way into Rhodes’ brain, reminding him that Wash hadn’t

really answered. Rhodes pulled back. His eyes almost crossed with desire when he saw Wash’s
full lips, swollen and red and shiny with wetness.

“Tell me,” he repeated, staring down at Wash, wishing he could will the answer he wanted

from Wash’s mouth.

“I want you to…” Wash trailed off, shifting his eyes away for a second and catching his bot-

tom lip between his teeth. Rhodes bit back a groan.

“What?” Rhodes demanded, resisting the urge to shake it out of him. This was driving him

insane and he was too tired to run off the desire eating at him.

Wash’s gaze snapped back to meet Rhodes’. “I want you to fuck me through the floor.”
Rhodes couldn’t hear anything else. All of his blood was rushing through his head, filling his

ears with an echoing roar. He stared down at Wash, watched his partner’s expression change from
teasing to uncertainty as Rhodes just looked at him, frozen.

“Really?” Rhodes finally managed to ask. His voice broke in the middle of the word. If he

hadn’t been completely focused on Wash’s answer, Rhodes would’ve been embarrassed.

Wash’s eyes shifted away again. “Yeah. I mean, before tonight, shit like what Callum was

spewing made me wonder if I really wanted to deal with all that. I was thinking it’d be so much
easier if I just did women.”

“It would be easier,” Rhodes said in a gruff voice, fear knotting up in his throat.

Wash shrugged. “Easier, schmeasier. Every time I jerked off over the past few days, I thought

about you. Forget the chicks—I’m going with the dicks. Well,” he made a face, “one dick, I mean.
My own private dick. Start off slow, you know, and then build up to the orgies.”

Rhodes brought his lips down onto Wash’s smiling mouth. “My dick,” Rhodes growled

against the curve of Wash’s lips. “And my dick only. Remember that.” Kissing his way across
Wash’s cheek, Rhodes caught an earlobe in his teeth and nipped it in warning.

“But what about your balls?” Wash wondered, sounding so devilishly innocent that Rhodes

bit him again. “Can I suck your balls? And your ass? Can I squeeze—” Wash’s teasing monologue
broke off with a gasp as Rhodes ground his cock against Wash’s, rotating his hips in an agoniz-
ingly slow, hard circle.

“You will do what I tell you.” Rhodes met Wash’s gaze, watching as those green, green eyes

dilated until the pupils drowned all color in black.

“I usually hate it when you’re bossy,” Wash rasped, staring up at him. “So why does it make

me hard?”

Rhodes groaned, letting his head drop until his forehead rested against Wash’s collarbone.

“You’re killing me,” he groaned. Rhodes took a deep breath. Beneath all the other smells from an
evening at the club, Wash still smelled so good, so familiar, so his. Despite his arousal, Rhodes
felt his body begin to relax. He inhaled again, sinking into the man beneath him while his eyes
drifted closed.

“The hell, Rhodie?” Wash sounded equal parts offended and amused.
“What?” Rhodes grumbled sleepily, working his arms beneath Wash and burrowing his face

into the hard chest beneath him.

“Aren’t guys supposed to fall asleep after fucking? What—are you bored with me already

now that you’ve got me?”

“Not bored. Sleepy.” With an effort, Rhodes raised his head a little and blinked at Wash. “It’s

been a long night.”

Wash rolled his eyes. “Tell me about it. I was the one with a gun to the head, remember?”
That woke Rhodes up a little more. “That’s why I had to know. Now that I do, fucking can

wait ’til after we get some sleep.”

“Humph,” Wash grunted.
Rhodes grinned as he settled his head back down on Wash’s chest, his arms tightening around

his partner. “You sound like a crabby old woman. Trevor’s right—you are the grandma.”

Rhodes’ pillow rose and dropped a few inches as Wash heaved a sigh. “It’s been five minutes

and already the magic is gone,” he complained in a dramatically querulous voice.

Although he was already slipping off again, Rhodes chuckled sleepily. “Glad you’re not dead,

Wash,” he murmured.

“Me too, Rhodie.” Wash’s hand cupped Rhodes’ smooth skull. “Me too.”

The sun lit the inside of his eyelids to red. Grumbling at the intrusion interfering with his

wonderful, cottony sleep, Rhodes shifted. Feeling the hard chest under his cheek, he jerked his
head up, his eyes flying open.

Wash was still beneath him, flat on his back on the couch. He was snoring a little, his dark hair

wild, the innocent shape of his mouth belied by the masculine stubble that roughed his cheeks.

Rhodes smiled.
Smoothing strands of hair away from Wash’s face, Rhodes leaned in to kiss the other man’s

temple. Touching his lips to the closed eyelids, he worked his way down Wash’s cheek to his
mouth. As he brushed Wash’s lips with his own, Rhodes sank into the kiss, exploring all the curves
and hidden treasures of Wash’s mouth.

Wash’s hand latched around Rhodes’ neck. With a start at the sudden movement, Rhodes

pulled back for a second and then dove back in. Now that Wash was awake, Rhodes didn’t have
to hold back. He could kiss him like he’d been dying to do forever.

Christ, he loved kissing Wash. His mouth was still new and thrilling, yet so familiar. Hours,

days, months of staring at those lips had burned it into Rhodes’ mind. He tried to trace Wash’s
mouth with his tongue but his lover was having none of it. His other hand pulled Rhodes’ head
down, increasing the pressure of the kiss until it was grinding, almost painful, but so, so amazing.

Rhodes turned, pulling Wash with him, and toppled off the couch onto the floor.
“Oof!” Rhodes grunted as Wash landed on top of him, driving an elbow into his stomach.
Grinning, Wash pushed up until he was straddling him. “Smooth, Rhodie. You’re a real play-

er, aren’t you?”

Sitting up, Rhodes yanked Wash back into a punishing kiss that quickly mellowed, turning

almost sweet. Mentally wincing at the thought, Rhodes nipped Wash’s lower lip sharply.

“Ow!” Wash pulled back, giving Rhodes his best doe eyes of offended innocence. After work-

ing with Wash for more than a year, Rhodes knew the look shouldn’t affect him anymore but he
felt his stomach cramp with guilt even as he rolled his eyes. Kissing changed everything.

“Sorry, baby,” Rhodes growled, leaning forward to lick the tiny injury. Wash pressed into the

kiss with a small mewing sound—and bit Rhodes on the lip.

Rhodes snarled. Wash jumped up, laughing, and took off for the bedroom. Touching his bot-

tom lip to check for blood, too turned on to really care if there was any, Rhodes hurried after him.

At the bedroom door, Rhodes stopped as suddenly as if he had walked into a wall. Wash was

stripping his shirt off over his head, his back muscles bunching and flattening beneath that smooth
brown skin.

His pants were next. Wash let them drop around his ankles and swept his boxer briefs down

his legs, pulling off his socks as he went. He kicked away the rumpled pile of clothes and turned
to stand in front of Rhodes completely, gloriously naked.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Rhodes breathed before snapping back to reality. He strode toward

the bed, stripping off his own clothes as he went, using the mass of his body to drive Wash back-
ward toward the bed. The back of Wash’s legs hit the mattress and he fell onto the giving surface,
never looking away from Rhodes.

Yanking open the nightstand drawer, Rhodes held his gaze, locating the lube and condoms

by feel. When his fingers closed around them, he tossed them onto the bed and knelt, straddling
Wash, who was watching him with smoldering eyes.

Bracing his hands on either side of the other man’s head, Rhodes leaned over, bringing his

mouth down on Wash’s. He kept it light, almost teasing, nipping and licking Wash’s full lips, his
tongue barely penetrating.

Wash made a sound and Rhodes pulled back a few inches.
“What?” Rhodes asked, widening his eyes in his best innocent look. Arousal narrowed and

brightened Wash’s eyes, coloring them a clear green. He bit back a smug smile. It had taken barely
a touch of his lips to remind Wash how much he wanted Rhodes.

Wash scowled. “Kiss me,” he ordered.
Dipping his head, Rhodes brushed his lips over Wash’s, hardly making contact. “I am kissing

you,” he murmured, close enough that his breath brushed over Wash’s mouth as he spoke.

“Do it right,” Wash insisted. His voice bordered on petulant and Rhodes was oddly turned

on by the sulky thrust of his lip. Rhodes caught the offending lip between his teeth and felt Wash
catch his breath.

Releasing him, Rhodes asked, “Like this?” before taking Wash’s mouth hard. With a hum

of approval that vibrated against Rhodes’ lips, Wash arched into the kiss, increasing the already
bruising pressure. Rhodes pulled away, sitting upright.

“Bastard!” Wash spat out, almost sounding as if he was about to cry. He lurched up to grab

Rhodes’ arms and tried to yank him back down. “Fucking do it!”

Rhodes resisted Wash’s pull, enjoying the tease. He’d been miserable and desperate for Wash

for the past three days—shit, for the past year. Rhodes wasn’t about to rush this. Peeling Wash’s
fingers off his arms, Rhodes pinned his hands against the comforter above his partner’s head.

“Behave yourself,” Rhodes ordered, watching with arousal as a flush warmed the brown skin

on Wash’s cheeks.

“And if I don’t?” Wash asked breathlessly. Despite his question, Wash sounded more aroused

than offended by Rhodes’ bossiness.

“Then things will get interesting,” he answered, panting. The tip of Wash’s erection was

nudging Rhodes’ tailbone in a damp kiss. Rhodes was suddenly so aroused that he had to bite
his own lip hard to clear his brain. No, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut and giving his head a
shake. This night is going to last.

“Yeah?” Wash challenged, a hitch in his breathing giving away his excitement.
“You think I’ve forgotten how to use handcuffs?” Rhodes demanded in his best cop voice, his

fingers circling Wash’s wrists, his fingertips brushing the sensitive skin where the veins stood out.
“Or how to squeeze a suspect until he squeals?” Rhodes released the wrists in his grip and swept
his hands across Wash’s chest, playing with his nipples for a gentle second before giving them a
twist.

Wash yelped, jerking a few inches off the bed. “Fucker!” he panted. Rhodes just grinned at

him and flicked the abused nipples with his short nails. He’d felt Wash’s cock jump against his
backside at the rough treatment.

Moving to his hands and knees, Rhodes lowered his head to give Wash’s collarbone a sucking

kiss and then nibble down his chest. With a broad stroke of his tongue, he laved his partner’s
nipple, gentle and wet, before catching the small nub between his lips. He alternated sucking and

letting his teeth barely score the swollen tip, working to keep hold of the nipple as Wash bucked
beneath him.

“You’re a wiggly one,” he told him breathlessly, flattening himself out on top of Wash to keep

him still and biting back a groan as Wash’s erect cock pressed a hot outline into Rhodes’ belly.
Impatient to taste him again, Rhodes knelt again and seized Wash by the upper arms, heaving so
that Wash landed higher and straighter on the bed. With a grunt of satisfaction, Rhodes shifted so
that he lay between Wash’s spread thighs.

“Did you just throw me?” Wash asked incredulously. Ignoring his partner, Rhodes focused on

the swollen cock in front of his face. “I don’t know about this whole throwing thing,” Wash con-
tinued. “If you’re going to keep tossing me around, I might go back to dating one-hundred-pound
wom— Jesus!” Wash interrupted himself when Rhodes swallowed his erection to the back of his
throat.

If Rhodes’ lips hadn’t been wrapped around a thick, hard cock, he would’ve grinned. It was so

sweet to be able to shut Wash up. Gripping his partner’s hips, he worked his mouth up and down,
feeling Wash’s hands on his shorn skull. The end of Wash’s cock butted the back of his throat
and Rhodes fought to swallow him, to take his entire length into his mouth and throat. Rhodes
pulled back, keeping only the tip in his mouth, tightening his lips behind the head until Wash’s
fingers dug into his scalp and his hips started the fast, involuntary thrusts that meant he was about
to come.

Rhodes released him and Wash actually wailed. “Fuck, Rhodie! Please!”
“Shh, baby,” Rhodes soothed as he raised his head to look for the supplies he had tossed on

the bed earlier. “I have a surprise for you.” He pushed himself to his knees and grabbed a condom,
tearing the packet open with his teeth before rolling it onto Wash’s erection.

“Rhodes?” Wash croaked, propping himself up on his elbows. “Wrong dick, isn’t it?”
“Nope.” Grabbing the lube, Rhodes squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers. “It’s ex-

actly the right dick. The perfect dick.” He used both hands to coat Wash’s cock with lube, sliding
tight fingers down the rigid length.

“Fuck!” With a jerk of his hips, Wash fell back against the bed.
“Exactly,” Rhodes growled, straddling Wash’s hips. “This time, you are going to fuck me.”

Reaching behind to guide Wash’s cock, Rhodes lowered his body until the slick head nudged the
entrance to his ass. His thighs shook from the strain as he pushed down another inch, feeling the
tip of Wash’s cock penetrating, loving the stretch and the pain and the glorious pleasure of it.

“Rhodie,” Wash panted, his eyes wild. “You sure?”
Closing his eyes, Rhodes took more of the thick shaft into his body. It had been a long time

since he’d been fucked and he was tight, but he wanted this—wanted Wash—with a desperate,
gut-clawing longing.

Rhodes looked at Wash. “Fucking positive.” He let his body drop, driving Wash’s cock deep

inside him, piercing him like a burning spike. Wash roared, his head tipping back against the bed,
his body arching, every muscle standing in etched relief.

“Fuck!” Rhodes groaned, shifting on the cock buried in his ass. “That’s so sweet, so hot and

hard.” He knew he wasn’t saying anything original but it was the best he could do with his brain
and balls ready to explode. His ass felt incredibly full, his pleasure multiplied by the fact that the

cock lodged inside him belonged to Wash—his partner, his friend, the man he loved more than
anyone.

When Rhodes had driven that rock-hard cock up his ass, Wash had squeezed his eyes shut but

he opened them now and stared at the man above him. Looking into those eyes, the same ones he
had dreamed about for months and months, Rhodes couldn’t help himself. His mouth opened and
the words just fell out.

“I love you.”
Rhodes blinked. Here he was, Wash’s cock buried deep in his ass, feeling as if he could die

happy, and he was getting all girly and emotional. Way to ruin a moment, dumbass, he told him-
self.

“Love you too, Rhodie,” Wash told him, humor catching on the corners of his mouth. “Think

we could maybe fuck now?”

Closing his eyes against the prickling threat of tears, Rhodes raised and lowered himself on

Wash’s shaft, wrapping his fingers around his own cock and sliding them up and down with the
rhythm of his driving hips. Wash pushed Rhodes’ hand away and took over, squeezing his fist
around the base.

Rhodes’ control fell away and he hammered up and down on Wash, pounding his partner’s

cock into the depths of his ass, his inner muscles squeezing the shaft inside him as he rode him
hard. The hand on Rhodes’ erection grew faster, almost rough as Wash slid his fist the full length
of Rhodes’ cock.

With a strangled shout, Wash came, his fingers gripping Rhodes’ cock mercilessly. The tight

squeeze broke Rhodes. He exploded, every muscle held so tight he was almost vibrating. Rhodes
came for what felt like hours, as if everything inside him had melted and shot out of his cock.

Rhodes pulled himself off his lover, wincing a little, and collapsed to the side, breathing hard.
They both lay there, panting, as minutes passed. Rhodes could feel his skin tightening as his

sweat dried. A sudden shiver ran across his skin, catching him by surprise.

“Cold?” Wash turned his head to look at him.
Rhodes shook his head, frowning. “Not really. Just sweaty.”
“Here.” As Wash tugged the covers down, they both slipped under them.
Rhodes stared at the ceiling, scowling. “So.”
“Now that I’ve put out, are you going to tell me to go home?” Wash’s mouth was twitching.
“No!” Rhodes rolled toward his partner, catching himself when he saw Wash’s full-on grin.

“Asshole,” he grumbled, rolling onto his back again.

“Sorry, Rhodie,” Wash apologized, not sounding very contrite. “What were you going to

say?”

“Just that…” Rhodes scowled again. How was he supposed to ask this without sounding like

a total lame-ass?

Fuck asking—he was just going to do it. Rolling toward Wash, he wrapped his arms around

the other man and pulled him against him.

He felt Wash jerk in surprise and then his body began to shudder.

Rhodes glanced at Wash’s face. Yep—he was laughing. “What’s so funny?” he demanded.
“You.” Wash gasped for breath between gales of laughter. “You crack my shit up.”
“What?” Rhodes tried to hold his scowl but a smile threatened to break through. When Wash

was laughing, it was impossible not to join in.

“You’re just such a bad-ass at work. Who would’ve guessed you’re such a snuggle-bunny in

bed?”

“Snuggle-bunny?” Rhodes repeated with horror, any temptation to laugh draining away.

Snuggle-bunny?

Wash choked and coughed, obviously trying to stop laughing. “Hey, don’t get me wrong. I

like your cuddly side.”

“You’d better,” Rhodes grunted, tucking Wash even closer. The last thing Rhodes heard be-

fore he fell asleep was a muffled chuckle from Wash.

Chapter Thirteen

Rhodes couldn’t stay out of Wash’s office. Every time he settled in, determined to start work

on their new case—a woman needing evidence that her soon-to-be-ex was cheating on her—he
found himself wandering toward Wash’s door. Wash didn’t seem to mind the multiple interrup-
tions.

This time, Rhodes had backed Wash up against a wall, his tongue deep in his mouth and his

hands kneading Wash’s ass, when the newly installed bells on the main door let them know that
someone had just walked in.

With a sigh, Rhodes pulled back and dropped his hands after a final squeeze.
“Fucking clients,” Wash muttered, his hungry gaze on Rhodes’ mouth.
Rhodes had to turn his back on Wash and take several deep breaths to get his too-obvious

arousal under control. After he’d calmed down a little, he stepped out into the reception area.

“Carlos,” Rhodes greeted the boy, a little surprised to see him there. “Everything okay?”
“Carlito!” Wash bounced over, giving the boy a quick hug before Carlos could duck away.

“How are you? We were just talking about taking you and your brother to IHOP to catch up. So
how’s Miguel? Recovering? How’s your mom?”

Rhodes eyed Wash. “You know, if you stop talking, maybe Carlos could actually answer one

of your questions.”

“Miguel’s good,” Carlos told them. “Well, maybe not good, but okay. He’s home.”
“He’ll get better. The worst part’s over,” Wash promised as he waved the boy toward his of-

fice. “Come in and sit, wee Carlos.”

Carlos made a face. “What’s wrong with just calling me ‘Carlos’?” he complained, although

he obediently walked into the small room and took a seat across from Wash’s desk.

“What’s the fun in that?” Wash grinned at him, plopping down in the other guest chair.
Rhodes propped himself against a corner of the desk, cocking an eyebrow. “So what’s up?”
The kid pulled at his fingers, his eyes darting around the room. “I looked up pro bono.”
Wash coughed and Rhodes restrained an amused smirk.
“Yeah?” Rhodes urged him on after a few seconds of silence.
“I checked on the internet.” Carlos met his eyes. “You didn’t need to work for free to keep

your license. You don’t even need a license to be a P.I. in this state.”

The kid’s no dummy, Rhodes thought with a touch of admiration. “So?”
“So you saved Miguel. A lot worse things would’ve happened to him if you hadn’t found

him. No one else was even looking anymore. You did what I hired you for and I need to pay you
for that.” Carlos set his slight jaw.

Wash waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, kiddo. You paid us in warm and toasty feelings,

not to mention the publicity we’re getting out of this.”

Before Wash had even finished talking, Carlos was shaking his head, his mouth tight. “I’ll

pay you. I just need to know if I can do payments or something, ’cause I don’t have much saved
up.”

“How about you work for us?” Rhodes suggested.
Carlos started pulling at his fingers again, his forehead creased. “I…um…”
Jumping on the idea, Wash offered, “We’d pay you twice what you get at the store. Half you

could take home and half would go to pay our fee of…” Trailing off, he gave Rhodes a question-
ing glance.

Rhodes shrugged. He had no idea what to tell the kid. Carlos had already caught them out

with the whole pro bono thing, so if they went too low, he wouldn’t agree to it. If they actually
charged their going rate for all the hours and expenses they’d incurred, the fee would be thousands
of dollars. Both Wash and the kid were staring at him, though, waiting for an answer.

“A hundred and fifty bucks,” he stated with as much confidence as he could give the number,

pulled from his ass as it was.

Carlos hesitated and then nodded slowly. “Deal. Um…one other thing…”
Rhodes and Wash both looked at him, waiting for him to continue.
Taking a deep breath, Carlos rushed out, “Can Miguel come with me to work? I don’t really

want to leave him at the youth center anymore. I mean, I know the guy who took him is in jail and
everything, but I don’t like— I mean Miguel doesn’t like when I’m not around to keep an eye on
him. He’d help out and you wouldn’t have to pay him or anything.”

“Sure,” Wash said, although a little uncertainly, frowning thoughtfully at the floor between

his knees.

“If that’s not okay—” Carlos began but Wash interrupted him with a shake of his head.
“Of course it’s fine,” he reassured the boy. “I was just thinking that, with all four of us and

Trevor in here, we’re going to need a bigger office.”

Shrugging, Rhodes told him, “They’ll be tearing this place down soon anyway.”

“That’s true,” Wash agreed. “There’s that place a couple blocks down right next to the park

with a ‘for lease’ sign up. It might be worth taking a look.”

“We’d still be close to IHOP.” The thought made Rhodes remember that he was hungry.
“Shit yeah!” Wash grinned.
“Wash!” Rhodes closed his eyes and shook his head when Wash looked at him blankly. “Kid?

Your mouth?”

“Right.” Wash winced. “This might take some practice. And a whole lot of soap. Or at least a

swear jar or something.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Washington. You don’t know any words I haven’t already heard in

school.” Carlos stood up. “Is it okay if I start in two weeks? I have to tell my boss I’m leaving.”

“Of course,” Rhodes agreed, pushing off the desk to follow Carlos and Wash into the recep-

tion area.

Carlos hesitated by the door. “Thanks,” he said gruffly without turning around, then slipped

out to the sound of jangling bells.

Rhodes and Wash stood in silence for several seconds.
“Trevor, Carlos and little Miguel,” Wash finally said.
“It’ll be a fucking daycare in here,” Rhodes sighed.
Wash looked at him with a sideways grin. “That’ll be a dollar in the swear jar.”
“A dollar? Isn’t it supposed to be a quarter or something?” Rhodes grumbled.
“Not for fuck. Fuck is the very worst word,” Wash told him piously.
With a growl, Rhodes started backing Wash toward the wall. “Fuck it then. I’d fucking better

fuck you on your fucking desk while I have the fucking chance.”

Although Wash was still grinning, his eyelids lowered to half-mast as he watched Rhodes

stalk him. “Sounds like a fucking marvelous plan.”

About the Author

Katie Allen grew up in the Midwest with a horde of sisters (five) and one beleaguered brother.

After an enjoyable four years working on her creative writing/art degree, and two not-so-pleasant
years struggling toward her MBA, Katie somehow ended up as a mechanical engineer in Denver,
Colorado.

When she’s not writing or working to pay for her unfortunate equine addiction, Katie rides

horses, reads (of course), paints and is learning to knit (having completed one slightly deformed
sock so far). She also enjoys exploring Denver with her Lab mix, especially when their walks pass
the neighborhood fire station…the firemen are always an excellent source of inspiration for her
stories.

The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and e-mail address

on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think

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[e-mail].

Also by Katie Allen

Breaking the Silence
One-Two Punch
Raw Footage
Seeing Blind

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Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at
www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

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