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 girlfriend to shut it?”

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

scream, immediately 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 better 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 alley, Rhodes holstered his gun.

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

him, clapping 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, contrasting 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

financially—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 together, 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. Although 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 experience 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

satisfaction 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 impossible, 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 conversation. “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 going 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 return, 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, smaller 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
collapsing 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 permission. 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 admit, 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 breakfast 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 disappointment.

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

chip pancakes, 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 pancakes 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 silence. “So what’s the story?”

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

in the syrup 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

happen—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 favorite 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 homeroom 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 Carlos 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 license, 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 kissing 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 stupidity 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 yourself?”

“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 investment banker from Ohio, for fuck’s sake! Mia lived in a two-bedroom
apartment with her grandmother 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

connection?”

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 neighborhood—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 expression 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 problems 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 wearing. His hair was ink black, just long enough to be scruffy, and his skin was a
few shades darker 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 lumbering 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 partner’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 shoppers 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 paper, 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, utterly 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 questions. 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 partner’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 kidding 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 partner’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 partner 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

forgiveness?”

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. Scanning 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 anticipation, 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 music.

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 boyfriend 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. Cupping 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 dancing 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 sensitive 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 concern.”

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. Leaning 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 bouncer 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 surface 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 confused 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, obviously 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 allowed 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 walking. 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 boyfriend. 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 uncomfortable 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 whiskey of the night, Rhodes lay wide awake, his cock as hard as a rock. He didn’t
have any pajamas—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 repeated with a cocked eyebrow. “Past tense?”

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

that bouncer…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 uncontained. 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 condoms 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 moving, 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. Buried 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 coming 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, enjoying 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 together 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 sensation, 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, tucking 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 embarrassingly 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…” Amazing. 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 enjoying 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 questioningly 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 partner’—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, sometimes 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 vulnerable, 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 being 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 curiously, 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. Digging 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 interrupt.”

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 tugging 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 perfect, round, fuckable ass.

He felt Wash’s muscles tighten as he cupped the delicious cheeks, feeling them

clench beneath 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 fingers into Wash’s ass cheeks.

Rhodes’ breath quickened, stopping altogether as Wash’s cock grew against his abs.

His fingers 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, apologetic 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 partner’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 efforts. 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 twisted 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

introductions 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 Deliver?”

“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 Trevor.

“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 grinning 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 pheromones 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 direction 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 question. “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 judgment. 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

amusement 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 tonight—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 together. 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 rumors 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 exactly do you do, Mr. Ness?”

“Call me Barry. I have a feeling we’re going to be friends. I’ve done some real estate

development. I run this club. Occasionally, if there is enough monetary incentive, I also
procure certain…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 nothing—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 finding 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 sooner.”

“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 forget 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 disapproval.

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 toothbrush?”

“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 tomorrow—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 addicting 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 gripping 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 stroking 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 withdrawal.

“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 darkening 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 exploded, 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 fingers 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 married. 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 concrete, 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 afternoon. 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 confirmation, 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 suggestive 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, trying 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, holding 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 pancakes?”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” Rhodes asked, hiding his grin. The ride over had

been awkward, 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. Glancing 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 somewhere 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 uniforms.

“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 examined 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 security—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 original 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’ business 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 leaving.” 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. Grabbing 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 possible.

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 flutter 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

windshield. “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, before 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, interrupting 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 bedroom 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 lifetime 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 partner 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 swallowing, 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 activate 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 sitting 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 going 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 detective. 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 doorway. “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.” Crossing 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 waistband 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

unfortunate 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 attracted 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 convenient 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 impatience. 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 tighten 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

performance 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 pocket.

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 cinderblock, 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. Flashing 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 fiberglass or asbestos or anything else that he probably didn’t want to be
sucking into his lungs. Another 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 insulation, 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 dissolving 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 mother and brother without any facial scarring, okay?”

Miguel reluctantly withdrew, staying very close to the wall, as if Rhodes was going

to disappear 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 rewarded 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 center 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. Obviously, 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 narrowed 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 uniformed 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 getting 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 mixture 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, although 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. Exhaustion 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 bottom 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 agonizingly 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 player, 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 working 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 bottom 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 backward 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 continued. “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 exactly 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 himself.

“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 before 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 interruptions.

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 office. “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 questioning 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 reception 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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Also by Katie Allen

Breaking the Silence
One-Two Punch
Raw Footage
Seeing Blind

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publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC
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