In Time of Need

A Handcuffs and Lace Story

By Sean Michael

Resplendence Publishing, LLC

http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

In Time of Need

Copyright © 2012 Sean Michael

Edited by Andrea Grimm and Venus Cahill
Cover art by Les Byerley, www.les3photo8.com

Published by Resplendence Publishing, LLC
2665 N Atlantic Avenue, #349
Daytona Beach, FL 32118

Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-595-3

Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including
infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable
by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Electronic Release: October 2012

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product
of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chip McMullen sat at the bar, nursing his beer, rolling one shoulder. He’d had a long

day, but a damned good one. He and Sam had made a collar they’d been working for months.

Months. Unfortunately, in that month, the crazy fuck had killed two more girls, and in the arrest,

Chip had taken a bullet to the vest. Sore.

Dawson Sorenson from Vice pulled up to the stool next to Chip’s, and asked Petey

behind the bar for a boilermaker.

Chip nodded in greeting. He and Daws had met a number of times. The guy was decent,

even if Vice was messing with another of his and Sam’s cases.

Petey put the drinks on the bar, and Daws handed over his cash then dumped his whiskey

into the beer and downed it.

“Bad day?” Chip wasn’t sure why he asked; it seemed like the nice thing to do.

Daws shrugged. “Sometimes the perps make you lose your faith in humanity, you

know?”

“Yeah. I get that.” He understood.

“Yeah, you look a little rough around the edges yourself.”

He nodded. “Got my guy, though.” Took that motherfucker off the streets.

“Good one. I’ll toast to that once I get another beer.” Daws motioned Petey for another.

Chip nodded, sipping his drink, jonesing on the burn.

When Daws had his beer, he clicked it against Chip’s glass. “To catching the bad guys.”

“A-fucking-men.” He slammed the rest back.

Daws drank his beer far more slowly than he’d slammed back the boilermaker, taking

only a mouthful now.

They didn’t talk; they sat side-by-side, almost ignoring each other. They both had another

beer. Daws started to sprawl, looking relaxed and easy.

“Fuck, I’m glad I’m off for a few days after tomorrow.” Chip could do paperwork hung

over. He tried not to think about the other unsolveds on his desk. One in particular had been

lingering, and they were waiting on fucking informants.

“I’ve only got a day, but I’ll take it.”

“I took four. I’ve been on for weeks.” Chip didn’t have anyone to be glad of that like his

partner Sam had Sarah, but sometimes you just needed to decompress. To forget.

“Sounds like they’ve been rough weeks, too. You got something good planned?”

“Nah. Me and my fuckbuddy, we split up.” He wasn’t in the closet, but he wasn’t

flaming. Still, he knew Daws was as queer as he was.

“That sucks, man. Or should that be, doesn’t suck?” Daws gave him a wink.

“Yeah, yeah, tell me about it.”

“They got this newfangled thing these days called porn on DVD. You might give it a try,

what with the lack of fuckbuddy and all.”

He slowly, carefully, deliberately flipped Daws off. The man laughed. Chip chuckled,

then the sound turned into an honest belly laugh.

“There we go. Now the day is better.”

“No shit on that, Daws.”

Daws nodded, his gaze travelling over Chip’s body. He chuckled, flexed for Daws, then

winked playfully. Daws’ lips twisted into a half smile. Still, the look had been admiring.

It had him asking, “Man, you want to share a pepperoni or something? I got to drive

home.”

“I could eat a slice or two. Could drive you home if you need, too.”

“You been hitting it, too.” He raised one hand at Petey behind the bar. “Pepperoni, man.

We’ll be at a booth. My tab.”

“You got it. Another round, too?” Petey asked.

Chip nodded. “One more all around. Let’s go sit.”

Daws followed him, then sprawled his big body out on the bench seat across from Chip.

“So what will you do with your downtime?”

“I don’t know. I…” He wanted to… Shit. His mind skittered away from the thought.

It was quiet a moment then Daws bumped a foot against his leg. “What?”

“Huh?” He tried for innocent and confused.

“You were about to impart your wonderful and amazing plans for your four day leave

with me.”

“Oh, shit. I got no plans.” He stuck his tongue out. “I have wishes.”

“Yeah? Tell me what you wish for, Chip.”

Chip chuckled. What did he wish for? Shit. He wanted someone to fucking want him,

wanted to take it, deep and hard. He wanted to be forced to belong to someone for a little while.

One of Daws’ eyebrows went up, honest curiosity in the man’s eyes.

“Sorry. Sorry, I just… I need some quality time with some stroke fic and my hand, I

think.”

“Missing that fuckbuddy, eh?”

“Missing fucking. The buddy, less so.”

Daws laughed. “You like doing or being done to, man?”

His cheeks felt like they were going to catch on fire. There was no way he was answering

that question honestly. No way. God, if it got out that he bottomed…not to mention the way he

wanted to bottom.

Daws had that eyebrow up in his hairline thing down. “Talking to you is like an

interrogation, man.”

“Well, Christ, man. No one’s ever asked me that before!”

Daws blinked at him. “Not even the fuckbuddy?”

“No.” There was a reason he was an ex-fuckbuddy.

“That’s actually pretty sad.”

Chip rolled his eyes. “Do you get asked a lot?”

“Nope. People make assumptions because of my looks.”

“You mean…” Hot? Tanned? What?

“I guess because I’m tall and imposing.” Daws shrugged. “Of course, they’re right.”

Chip chuckled, nodded. “And here I thought you were going to say they thought you

bottomed because you’re skinny.”

“Don’t let the skinniness fool you. I’m plenty strong. You don’t have to be built like a

Mac truck to be able to take down a perp.” Daws smiled, the look a little dangerous rather than

happy. “More than one asshole has made that mistake.”

“Hey, I don’t judge. You skinny fucks are better at running. I’m better at tackling.”

Taking down perps the hard way.

“You’re a stud. I’ll give you that. I guess folks make assumptions about which way you

fuck, too. Are they right?” Daws clearly wasn’t letting this go.

Chip caught himself shaking his head and forced himself to stop. Damn it.

Daws must have caught it, though. “Never judge a book by its cover, eh?”

“Yeah. It’s a thing.” He let himself growl a little. “Don’t mean I can’t do my job, either.”

“I never said it did.” Daws leaned in. “I’m queer, too, remember? I know who you fuck

and how it has nothing to do with the job.” He sat back again. “Besides, I’ve seen a lot of weird

shit in Vice, and it’s got little to do with a man’s job.”

“No shit?” Chip smiled as they got their next round of drinks. “Do tell.”

“I’ve seen CEOs of big fucking companies, not only taking it up the ass, but doing so tied

up, getting whipped, stretched out on fucking crosses. There are clubs out there that cater to just

about anything you can dream up and more, man.”

His eyebrow arched; he could do that too. “Vice is way more exciting than Homicide,

man. I just get dead bodies.”

“We get plenty of those, too, but we usually kick them over to you. Pretending to be a

sex-starved moron or a drug-addled idiot is way less fun than advertized, though.”

“Oh, man. I bet. There’s not a lot of undercover work for me these days.” Not that he’d

ever been good at that.

“You looking for a transfer?”

“Nope. I like what I do, where I am, and I’m damned good at it.” Kind of creepy good at

it some days. Hell, he knew more about a killer’s mind than any sane human being should.

“So why’re you asking about undercover work?”

“I wasn’t, was I?”

“Oh, I thought you were.” Daws frowned and looked at his beer. “Maybe I’m at my

limit.”

“The pizza will help.” Maybe they were both just goofy. “So, you’ve seen these clubs?

With your own eyes?”

“I have indeed. Some weird shit.” Daws grinned suddenly. “Some of it’s pretty fucking

hot.”

“Yeah?” Chip’s cock gave a jerk. Not that he could do that, right? But he could listen.

“Shit, yeah. The whole leather aspect to start with.”

“Yeah, it’s hard to find it in my size without going…places that I’d rather not leave a

paper trail to.”

Daws laughed softly. “You need cash on the barrelhead.”

“You know it. Eh, I’m a jeans type. Leather boots, maybe.” He liked the smell of leather,

but he wasn’t sure he’d look good in it. The DB on their getting-too-close-to-a-cold case had

been dressed in leather.

Daws eyes narrowed, and the man checked Chip out again, eyes lingering longer this

time. “I could see you in leather.”

Chip grinned and he was glad it was darker back here, so maybe his blush didn’t show. “I

saw a guy once, all dressed in leather. It was hot—figuratively and literally.”

“I’ve seen my share of leather men. Know a place or two where they hang out. Some of

them aren’t even skanky.”

“Yeah?” Not that Chip was interested. Not him. Uh-uh. “Here in town?”

“Sure. There’s a couple clubs that are decent.”

“Huh.” Maybe he could go while he was off, check one out. Figure out if there was a way

to…get what he needed.

“The Cliff is exclusively queer, but the Bloody Rose on Wilson is the best club—safest,

classiest, and queer friendly.”

“Bloody Rose? Who names these places?”

Daws threw his head back and laughed.

Okay. Chip could admit it. That was hot.

“Don’t let the name fool you. If you’re going to check somewhere out, make it that one.”

Their pizza finally showed up, though Chip couldn’t say he hadn’t wished it had stayed

undelivered just a little bit longer.

“Maybe. Maybe. You think… I don’t want flack, with the guys, I mean.”

“I know how to keep my mouth shut, Chip.” Daws looked somewhat affronted.

“No. God, no. That’s not what I mean. I mean, you don’t think there’ll be issues with me

going there.”

“They’re on our radar, all the clubs are, kinky or not, but it’s a clean club. Safe. And if

you ran into someone you knew there, well…” Daws shrugged. “They’d be in the same boat, and

it wouldn’t be a problem, yeah?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess.” Chip picked up a piece of pepperoni. “Oh, man. So good.”

Daws grabbed a slice and folded it in half, starting to devour it.

Greasy, hot, spicy—it was just what Chip needed to cut the booze.

Daws downed two slices before he slowed for another gulp of his beer. “Damn, you gotta

love all that greasy goo.”

“Hell, yes.”

“Food at the Bloody Rose isn’t bad. They don’t do pizza, though. More classy.” Daws

winked, grabbing another slice.

“Maybe I shouldn’t try, then.”

“You have a pizza only policy, man?”

Chip snorted. “Just less classy.”

Daws looked him up and down again. “I’m guessing you clean up pretty well.”

“As well as any Joe, I guess.”

“Oh, better than any average Joe I’m thinking.”

“Thanks, man.” A little ego stroking never went amiss.

Daws shrugged. “I call ‘em like I see ‘em.”

Yeah, and Daws was a hot, wiry fucker with an air of danger. It was intriguing as fuck.

“You want that last slice?” Daws asked, nodding at the pizza.

“Go for it.” Chip was fine.

Daws grabbed it and made short work of it, then finished off his beer. They sat, half-

looking at each other, half-looking out into the crowd of cops and firefighters.

“I suppose I should make myself scarce.” Daws didn’t look very inclined to leave,

though.

“You want to stick around? I’m going to switch to coffee,” Chip offered. He didn’t really

want to be left alone with his thoughts.

“Sure. I could go for some coffee. And something sweet.”

“Yeah? They don’t do sweet here. There’s a cafe a block over so we could walk, leave

our cars here. It has pie.”

“Any good?”

Chip groaned, dramatically pretending to drool.

Daws laughed. “Okay, okay. If they’ve got decent coffee, too, I’m sold.”

“It’s not like oh-fuck-me-now coffee, but it’s totally drinkable.”

“I have to admit, I have never had oh-fuck-me-now coffee.”

“No? That’s a shame.”

“I have something to look forward to.” Daws gave him a wink.

“You know it. I’ll pay my tab, and we’ll head out.”

“Sounds good.” Daws stood, stretched.

Nodding, Chip stood up and headed for the bar. It did sound good.

They met up at the door, heading out into the cool night air. “Lead on MacDuff,”

murmured Daws.

“Let’s go, man.” They headed off, leaning against each other the slightest bit.

“Good thing we’re not driving,” noted Daws.

“Uh-huh. Coffee will help.”

“So will pie.” Daws sounded like he was looking forward to it.

“You know it.”

They came up to The Paris Cafe, Daws holding the door open for Chip.

“Thanks, man. Hey, Jen!”

“Howdy, Chip. Coffee and cherry.”

Daws chuckled. “You didn’t mention you were a regular.”

“It’s a good place to do paperwork.” And he lived just a few buildings over.

“Ah, the bane of my existence.”

“No shit on that.” All of them hated paperwork, but it was the one thing they all had in

common.

Jen chuckled. “Are you getting something, too, sir?”

“Yeah. I’ll have a coffee and a slice of apple a la mode.”

After Jen had gone, Daws leaned in. “I always order apple first—if they can’t do that

right, there’s no point in trying any other flavor.”

Chip grinned. “It took me three months to get tired of the apple.”

“Awesome. You’ve got me drooling now.”

“Ah, the way to Vice’s stomach. Apples.”

Daws flipped him off. Chip laughed, feeling more and more like he could survive getting

shot and being overworked minute by minute.

Jen brought their coffee and pie, and Daws might have groaned a little at the sight of his

apple slice with ice cream. The ice cream was melting a little, like it did when the pie was hot.

Chip grabbed his spoon and clinked their mugs together. “To pie.”

Laughing, Daws nodded. “To pie.”

Chip started to relax, to melt back into the booth, watching Daws idly. The man dug in,

nodding, groaning, but not actually saying anything; he was too busy shoveling in pie. Chip ate

one cherry at a time, slowly. Carefully.

Daws finished and finally looked up, a light red coloring his cheeks. “Sorry, man.”

“For what?” Chip ate another bite.

“Speed eating. It was just so damn good.”

“No worries. You want another?” The man had a hollow leg. Someone as wiry as Daws

was shouldn’t be able to eat like that.

“I do. I might try the coconut cream this time.”

Chip chuckled. “Rock on, man.” He waved the waitress down.

“I’ve got a high metabolism.”

“Lucky bastard.”

“The downside is I’m always hungry.” Daws grinned. “I know that’s not much of a

downside.”

“Yeah. I have an appetite, but I have to work out for it.”

“I can tell that you do. Work out that is.” Daws turned his smile on Jen as she arrived at

their table with the coffee pot. “I’d like a slice of coconut cream, please.”

“You want another, Chip?”

“Just coffee, hon. Thanks.”

“Amazing pie, decent coffee. Turning into a good start to a day off, man.” Daws licked

his lips.

“You know it.” Chip rolled his shoulder, trying to get the muscle in his chest to loosen

again. Come on. Come on. Oh. There. Yeah.

“You okay, man?”

“Took one to the vest, you know? Just stiff.”

“Oh, that sucks. Those things are a lifesaver.”

Jen brought Daws’ pie and refilled his coffee for him, earning a “Thank you,” and a smile

from Daws.

Chip needed to get laid. Like seriously.

Rule one: Don’t lust after cops.

Rule two: If you start lusting after another cop, see rule one.

Daws snarfed down his second piece of pie almost as quickly as he had the first.

“That hollow leg filling up yet?”

“Getting there. I might need a small snack when I get home.”

“Like a water buffalo?”

Daws laughed and flipped him off again. “It’s a curse, man.”

“Oh, that we all had that curse…”

Daws chuckled for him then groaned as his cell started chirping.

“Duty calls?”

“Sounds like it. I should have known I wasn’t going to get to go home and enjoy

tomorrow…” Daws answered the phone, grunting into it, nodding, and grunting again.

Chip finished up his pie, waved Jen over, and handed her thirty.

“Sorry, man. I gotta go.” Daws stood and pulled out his wallet.

“I got it. No worries. Hope it pans out.” Whatever it was.

“Thanks, man. Let me know if you make it out to the Bloody Rose.” Daws gave him a

wave and headed out.

Yeah, like he’d do that.

Except… His body tightened. Just once, he’d like to be the one taking it. Just once.

He stood and headed home, the thought of the Bloody Rose on his mind.

Chapter Two

Chip sat in his pickup in the parking lot and watched the club. He’d done this for two

nights in a row now—watching people go in and out, watching the clientele, the servers. Ninety

percent male, mostly middle-aged or older, all well-dressed.

It didn’t look skeezy.

As he watched, a tall, skinny man dressed in leather went in. Fuck, that was a sweet ass.

A few more couples went in, then another man, solid, strong. Alone.

Okay. Okay, come on. Go in. Have a drink. See what’s what. He’d spent each night of his

four days off doing this, and then last weekend too, and here he was again. It was time to shit or

get off the pot.

Chip unfolded himself out of the truck and headed in, refusing to look like a fucking vic.

Once inside, the place was surprisingly tame. Sure, there were some wild outfits and a

couple of nearly naked men, but most people were dressed like they would be for any club. Fuck,

if he were honest, most gay clubs looked like this. That made it even easier to walk up to the bar,

order a beer.

There was a stud a few seats down; Chip felt the man glance his way. He let himself flex,

showing off a little.

The guy called over the bartender, said something, then the bartender came over and

poured Chip a shot. “From that guy.”

“Thanks.” He lifted the glass. Bourbon. Nice. He nodded over, wishing he had a better

view.

The guy held his own glass up and took a drink, offering Chip a view of a long throat in

the shadows. Fucking hot. Chip liked the look—strong, whipcord lean, fierce.

The bartender grinned at him. “First time? Leather over there’s a good Top.”

“Yeah. Does it show?”

“Only because I know the look.” The bartender winked.

“Thanks. Is there, like, protocol to this?”

“If you’re interested in Leather, go over and kneel for him. It’ll tell him you’re interested,

show you have manners.”

“Kneel?” Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, could he do that?

“Only if you’re interested, man.”

Chip nodded, his heart just racing. Kneel? Where? Behind him? Beside him? On the

floor? How dirty was it?

“I wouldn’t wait too long, though. There’re sharks circling…” warned the bartender.

Sharks? Chip saw a little blond twink come over, touch Leather’s arm, and Chip stood,

shooting the drink back. Leather grunted and shook his head at the twink.

Chip gathered all his courage—and he had his fair share—and moved over close to the

man. There was a cushion on the floor, right next to the guy, like it was waiting for him. Leather

didn’t look at him; this was all on Chip.

He knelt, forcing himself not to completely lose his shit. What was the worst that could

happen, right?

Leather’s hand landed on his head. “I was hoping you’d come in.”

Everything sort of stopped. Oh, God. Daws. Oh, God.

The hand in his hair tightened, tugged his head back so he was looking up into Daws’

face. If there was a God, the floor would open up and swallow Chip. Now.

Then Daws leaned in and pressed their mouths together. This wasn’t a simple kiss. This

was a hard, take-no-prisoners-I-own-you kiss. Chip groaned, upper body surging up, meeting

that hunger head-on.

The hard hand in Chip’s hair kept Daws in control of the kiss. Chip opened, moaning

desperately, his cock fighting to be free. The kiss went on and on, leaving him breathless, almost

swaying on his knees. He’d never been kissed like this. Ever. It was overwhelming, huge.

Just when he thought he might pass out—from lack of air, or from sheer pleasure—the

kiss ended, Daws’ lips parting from his. Chip blinked, his throat working, the world spinning.

“I reserved a room in the back. Or I can take you home now.”

Chip nodded, so fucking off center. He just knew he wanted Daws.

“It wasn’t a yes or no question, baby.” Daws hand slid down Chip’s body, along his

chest, past his waistband to wrap around his needy prick. “There’s my answer, though.”

Chip moaned, his entire body rippling. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah. That’s coming.” Daws straightened, hand sliding back up along Chip’s body, then

he stood, looking big and imposing in all that dark leather. From his kneeling position, Chip had

to look up and up.

And right at eye level was a huge package, straining at the leather. So fucking hot. So

fine. The man made his mouth drool.

Daws bent until that hot mouth was right at Chip’s ear. “Gonna have to get you a collar

and leash so I can lead you around.”

Chip’s fingers clenched so hard they creaked.

“Get up and follow me. Two steps behind. Don’t look at anyone.” Daws licked his

earlobe. “You can watch my ass.”

Part of Chip refused, roared in fury, but a bigger part, the part that needed, nodded.

“Good boy.” Daws took Chip’s mouth again, tongue fucking his lips like it was a reward.

Then Daws straightened, turned, and headed toward the back of the club.

Chip followed, his muscles tight and hard, his cheeks on fire. Daws never even looked

back once. Chip wasn’t sure if it was hot or insulting that Daws was so sure of him. Chip was

beginning to think he wasn’t sure of anything, except the ache in his cock.

When they went through the door at the back of the club, it opened up into a corridor

with doors at regular intervals. The noise of the club faded behind them. Daws stopped at one of

the doors and opened it with a keycard, turning to smile at Chip, eyes meeting his unerringly.

Chip was trying real hard to keep his shit together, to breathe.

When Daws reached for him, Chip went automatically. Daws took his hand and tugged

him into the room, the door closing behind them. It wasn’t skanky at all. There was a bed, a chair

and a table, soft lighting.

“I…I don’t know what to do next, man.” It was as honest as he could be.

“Sit on the bed and relax a minute. Tell me why you came.” Daws went to the big chair,

turned it to face the bed, and lounged on it, legs spread.

Chip sat. “I was curious.” I want someone to fuck me, to really fuck me hard. I want to

see if it’s as hot as I dream it is.

“You knelt for me. That’s good. I know what you want, and I’m going to give it to you.

There’s lube and condoms on the table there. Make sure the lube’s open, the condom easy to

reach from the bed.”

“Okay.” Chip reached out, forcing his hands not to shake as he did what he was asked.

Told.

“Good boy.” Daws’ voice was soft, and a little rough—husky. “Now come over here and

kneel between my legs.”

Breathe, Chip. Just breathe. You can leave, whenever you want to. He moved, taking

careful steps, kneeling like his knees were made of glass.

Daws made an appreciative noise. “Sexy fucker.” The words made kneeling less

humiliating, more erotic. “Open up my leathers, baby. You’re going to get me good and hard,

ready to take your ass.”

Chip moaned, deep in his chest, and this time his hands were shaking. Daws’ hand slid

over Chip’s scalp again, tugging on his short hair. His head bobbed with the sting, his fingers

opening up the complicated fly on the leather plants. Daws groaned, legs spreading wider. Chip

could see the way Daws’ prick pushed at the leathers, like it was eager to get to him, to get out.

“How did you get these on?” Chip eased the zipper down, making sure his fingers

protected Daws’ cock.

Daws’ chuckle slid right through him. “I wasn’t hard at the time.”

Well, the man certainly was now, and Chip hoped it was for him.

Thick, red, hard and huge, Daws was extremely well hung. “Get me wet, baby. I want

you.”

Chip didn’t even pretend that he didn’t know what Daws wanted. He leaned in, wrapped

his lips around the heavy cock and started sucking. Daws’ groan was gratifying and the hand in

Chip’s hair tightened, but Daws didn’t guide him or force him.

Soft words poured down around him. “Sweet baby boy, you’ve got a mouth made for

sucking. Look so good on your knees. Gonna fuck you so good. You’re going to scream for me.”

Chip groaned, spreading his thighs to make room for his aching cock.

“That’s it, baby. Suck it like the sweet fucking cocksucker you are. Gonna reward you so

good.” Daws’ thumb pushed into Chip’s lips alongside the thick cock.

The words poured over Chip, and he groaned, his muscles going tight.

Daws tugged on Chip’s hair, pulling him off that fat prick. “Enough. On the bed. Hands

and knees. It’s your turn.”

Chip’s lips felt hot and swollen. “You want my pants on, still?”

“No, I want you naked, baby.”

That was when he realized he was still totally dressed. Totally. It shocked him; he’d felt

naked, open, exposed. But he was still dressed.

“Go on, sweet baby. Get naked.”

Chip worked his boots off, his shirt, then opened his jeans. Daws moaned, the sound soft,

but there, admiring him. He pushed off his jeans, feeling huge and bare and odd.

“Hands and knees, baby.”

Chip nodded, swallowed, and tried to move, but found himself stuck for a second.

Daws stood and took off his leather vest and his tight, white t-shirt, standing there with

his prick pushing out from his leather pants.

Sweat pooled in the hollow of Chip’s throat, and he moved toward the bed.

“I knew you’d move like liquid sex.”

How did Daws know how to do that? Say exactly what Chip needed to hear?

Daws kept the leather pants on and grabbed the lube before climbing onto the bed.

Chip gulped in air, his body caught between fight and flight. Then Daws touched his ass,

hand hot. He jumped forward, his cock jerking wildly.

“Can’t wait to sink into this tight ass.” Daws’ hand disappeared then landed on Chip with

a sharp smack.

A rush of panic hit Chip and he moved, instinctively standing.

“I said hands and knees, sweet baby. I know what you want. What you need.”

“I’m…” Freaked out. Totally freaked out.

Daws grabbed the back of Chip’s head and took a kiss, tongue pushing into his mouth.

Before he knew it, he was back on the mattress on his hands and knees, Daws still kissing him.

Daws pulled on his lower lip, bit it then sucked again.

“You don’t have to think right now. We’ll think after.” Daws had an awesome voice, it

just sort of rumbled out of the man and settled right in Chip’s balls.

A slick—big—finger pushed at his hole, spread him enough to push inside. His body

rippled. It had been a while since that last luscious, fucking burn.

Daws moved slowly, carefully, opening Chip with just the one finger for now, moving

fucking slowly. Chip’s head fell forward, his shoulders rolling.

Daws pushed his finger in deep, hitting Chip’s gland.

“Oh, fuck.” His eyes rolled back in his head.

“Yeah, there we go.” Daws kept pegging it, finger pushing deep inside him.

His body was on fire, burning, aching. Daws pressed another finger into Chip along with

more, cool lube. He couldn’t have fought his groan if he’d tried.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby, show me how much you like it, how big a bottom boy you really

are.”

Daws pushed both fingers in hard, finding Chip’s gland again. His head came up, his

spine bowing, nerves screaming in pleasure. That touch kept pushing into him, kept making him

feel so fucking much.

“Daws...” Chip’s throat worked, everything ached.

“You ready for my cock, baby? Ready to feel my heat inside you?”

Chip nodded, body burning, buzzing.

Daws’ fingers disappeared, one hand staying on Chip’s ass. He heard the crinkle of the

condom, then felt that sweet, hard heat pressed against his hole. He sucked in a breath, his body

squeezing, jerking hard around Daws’ prick head.

Daws squeezed Chip’s ass with both hands. “Easy, baby.”

“Sorry. Sorry, it’s…” Been a while.

“It’s what you want, so just relax and let me in.”

Chip nodded, heart racing. Okay. Okay, relax. Seriously.

Daws’ cock disappeared and a kiss landed in the small of Chip’s back, a sharp, quick bite

following it.

Chip gasped, hips rolling. “Daws?”

That thick prick was suddenly back, sliding into him. “Just helping you relax.”

His lips parted, but he didn’t make a single fucking sound. Wide and fat, that cock made

his belly clench, made his muscles flutter.

“Sweet ass, Chip. Fuck.” Daws kept pushing until he was all the way in, filling Chip up.

“Full.” Fuck. Fuck, that was… Yeah. Whoa.

Daws circled his hips, cock shifting inside Chip, almost rolling. Chip whined softly, his

abs screaming and tight.

“You’re doing great, baby. I’m gonna start moving now.”

Start?

When Daws began pulling out and thrusting back in again, Chip realized what the man

meant. He’d been fucked a long time ago, and he did himself with toys, but never had it been like

this, never with strokes he could feel hammering at the base of his brain.

Daws’ hands had hold of Chip’s hips, pulling him back into each thrust. He cried out as

the heavy cockhead dragged over his gland, again and again. Moaning, Daws moved faster,

banging into him.

Chip found himself moving forward, climbing up the headboard to keep himself from

shaking apart. Daws was right there with him, an arm coming around his waist and pulling him

back against the strong body.

“Fuck. Fuck, yes.” Daws pushed even deeper, and Chip shook, cock aching.

“Fucking sexy, baby. Sweet fucking tight hole.” It went on and on, Daws giving Chip

exactly what he wanted, what he needed.

Daws started whispering in Chip’s ear, telling him about plugs, about reddened asses and

bound cocks, about begging to come, to be fucked. “I know what you need, baby. And I’m going

to give it to you. Gonna give you more than you think you can take and then you’re going to beg

for more.”

That thick prick kept hitting his gland, sending him higher and higher. “Close.” God, he

was so fucking close.

“You wait for me, baby. Until I say you can.”

Daws moved one hand slowly down Chip’s belly, heading for his prick.

How could that cock move so fast when that hand moved so slowly?

Finally, Daws’ wrapped his hand around Chip’s prick, the force of Daws’ thrusts slid it

along his palm. “Okay, baby. Wait for it…”

“Waiting.” Chip gritted his teeth.

Daws thrust in three more times before his hand around Chip’s prick tightened, and Chip

was given the command. “Come.”

Chip grunted, eyes rolling back in his head as he came.

Daws wrapped his lips around Chip’s shoulder, the man grunting and biting as he froze

behind Chip.

“Fuck…” Chip fought for breath, for center.

Daws’ breath was hot, panting against Chip’s neck. The hand on his prick had slowed,

but was still moving gently. Chip told himself not to think, not to freak.

Daws let go of Chip’s cock and that thick meat slowly dragged out of him, a soft kiss

placed on his shoulder. It ached.

What happened now?

Chapter Three

Dawson leaned his head against Chip’s shoulder, slowly catching his breath. Fuck, but

the man was something else. Strong. Hot. Sexy. A lovely reluctant, but needy sub. He kissed the

mark he’d left on Chip’s shoulder. His mark.

Chip was beginning to shiver, shake. Think. That would never do.

Dawson shifted, lying on the bed and bringing Chip down with him so he could take

Chip’s mouth in another kiss. They could think in the morning.

He wondered how far he could push Chip tonight, how much learning about himself

could one man take?

He kept kissing, even as he reached over Chip and pulled out a drawer in the bedside

table, hand searching blindly. He knew there had to be a plug in here, ready for use. Chip was

groaning, sounds pushing into his lips, dark as Kona coffee.

He found a plug, decent sized, but not huge by the feel of it. Grabbing hold of the toy, he

concentrated on kissing more of those sounds out of Chip.

Focused, Chip kissed Dawson like the world depended on it. Maybe it did.

Dawson deepened the kiss, sliding his hand holding the plug up and down Chip’s back.

Chip arched into his touch, moaning into his kisses. The man was sensual as hell. Dawson was

glad he’d made sure he was the first one Chip had seen.

He’d had his eyes on Chip for a year or so, and since that night two weeks ago—shit,

he’d been ready to see what they could do. He was a lucky fucking man. So was Chip.

He grabbed the lube and opened it up, sliding his slick fingers along Chip’s crack. Chip’s

ass clenched, gripping his fingers.

Humming, he slipped one into Chip’s ass. “Gonna plug you, sweet baby.”

“Plug… Oh, God.”

“Yeah. So you wake up ready for me.”

Chip’s eyes rolled back in his head. Someone hadn’t considered that they’d be spending

the night together.

Dawson pushed his finger in deep, then pulled it out and added a second finger. That tight

little hole was going to be swollen tomorrow, and Chip was going to feel him, deep. He pushed

more lube in, spreading his fingers apart.

Chip scooted forward, then pushed back, body confused.

“I’m going to fill you, baby.”

“Uh-huh.” Like Dawson needed permission.

He brought the plug around, showing it to Chip. He wanted the man to know what was

coming.

“Oh, God. Daws…”

“Nobody’s ever kept you open all night, have they?”

The big blond head shook, making Dawson grin.

“Good. I like being your first.”

“I can’t believe I came in here.”

“I can. The need in your eyes spoke volumes.” He pushed his fingers deep one last time.

Chip groaned, hips rolling, lips parted.

Dawson couldn’t resist those parted lips, and he pressed the plug to them. “Suck it,

baby.”

That made Chip shy away, bucking like a spooked horse.

He moved in to murmur in Chip’s ear. “I want to see you with your lips wrapped around

it, to watch that sweet fucking mouth take it in.” He kept stroking, fingers playing Chip’s gland.

Come on, sexy man. Give us what we need. “You know you want it, baby. I want to give it to

you.” He pressed the plug back against Chip’s lips just as he nailed the sweet little spot again.

Chip gasped, lips parting, and Dawson slipped the tip in, making sure to moan, to let

Chip know how hot it was. “Baby…fuck, you’re so god damn sexy.” He kept touching, stroking

Chip deep inside, keeping the man insane with pleasure.

Dawson pushed on the plug, and Chip took a good inch into his mouth, keeping him

watching as Chip started sucking automatically.

“Good boy. You’ve got a mouth made for sucking.” He began fucking Chip’s mouth with

the plug, pushing it in, using the same rhythm as his fingers.

Chip’s eyes were closed, cheeks red.

“So sexy, boy. You make me need again. Never seen anyone like you.”

Chip moaned around the plug, hips starting to push against Dawson’s touch. There they

were. He moaned, the sight so damn hot. He watched the muscles ripple, Chip’s strength

controlled, for him.

“Fucking want you again, baby. So fucking hot.”

Chip’s ass squeezed Dawson’s fingers, muscles rippling.

“Mmm.” He leaned in and licked Chip’s lips where they were wrapped around the plug.

“Gonna fill you with this now. Take it out of your mouth and put it in your ass.”

Chip moaned, pulling away from the plug, lips swollen and red.

Dawson shifted, putting Chip on his hands and knees over him, the thick prick just

touching Dawson’s belly. He moved the plug around to Chip’s ass. That tight ass was perfect—

muscled and strong.

He pressed the tip of the plug against Chip’s hole. “Push back, baby. Take it in.”

Chip shook his head, but the large body pushed back.

“That’s it, sweet baby.”

Chip blushed a deep, dark rose, the embarrassment, the reluctance like a drug to Dawson.

“Sexy baby.” He took Chip’s mouth, tongue pushing in hard. He sucked in Chip’s cry,

fucked the tight ass, the sweet lips.

He pushed the plug in deeper every time, slowly filling Chip up. Every push made Chip

shudder, the man’s body jerking, needing.

Fuck, it was hot. Dawson twisted the plug, then twisted it again, getting ready to seat it.

Chip groaned against his lips. “Full. Full, man.”

He settled the plug. “Perfectly full.”

Chip’s body jerked, lips open and panting as the sweet ass worked the plug. Dawson

traced Chip’s lips with his tongue, teasing lightly. Chip groaned, trying to deepen the kiss.

Dawson kept dipping his tongue into Chip’s mouth, not letting it alight anywhere. With Chip on

his hands and knees, the man couldn’t touch Dawson, had to hold himself balanced.

“Mine, baby, to do with as I wish.” His fingers played over the fine skin of Chip’s ass.

“Beautiful man.”

Chip chuckled. “Beautiful. Me?”

“You’re stunning when you give in to your need. Not bad the rest of the time, either.” He

let his hand slide down, fingers tugging the heavy, swinging ball sac. He met Chip’s eyes,

knowing his gaze showed how fucking sexy he thought Chip was.

Chip moaned, eyes rolling.

“You ready to sleep the sleep of the well-fucked, baby?” He grabbed Chip’s hips and

encouraged him to let go, to drop down onto him.

“They’ll let us stay here?”

“Yeah. We’re good.” Dawson had paid for the night, not knowing how this was going to

end.

Chip eased down, heavy, solid. Strong.

Dawson held the man in his arms, petting Chip’s back. “Sleep, baby. You’ve earned it.”

In the morning, Chip would have questions, or he’d scuttle away as quickly as possible.

Dawson hoped for the former, but would deal with the latter—hell, even if Chip ducked out in

the middle of the night, he’d be back.

Dawson would bet his left nut on it.

Chapter Four

He’d woken up before dawn—in bed, plugged, sore. Chip moaned. God, what had he

done?

A warm hand slid along his back, petting soothingly. “Shh. Shh.”

“I gotta go…”

Daws opened an eye, looking right at Chip. “You had four days off when we met up at

the bar, and I know how they schedule things. You telling me you aren’t on a weekend off now?”

“No. I just…” Wigged. He was totally wigged.

Daws stroked his cheek and moved in to kiss him. Fuck, the man was quite the kisser.

Daws made him groan and his eyes cross. Fuck.

That hand on his back continued to slide, to stroke him. It was unnerving—the attention ,

the touch, the care. Daws stroked down to pat at Chip’s ass, jostling the plug inside him.

“Oh. Oh, fuck.” He felt that, way down inside.

“How deep have you been hiding this sensual side?”

He shook his head. What was he supposed to say to that?

Daws chuckled and kissed him again, making everything else fade away. The fingers at

his ass rolled and played, making him ache and burn inside. Daws’ other hand roamed over Chip,

sliding and pinching and making him wonder if he’d ever really been touched before. He

couldn’t stop wiggling, moving. He should have more control than this

“That’s it, baby. Show me how good it is, how much you want it.” Daws’ voice had a

great husky quality in the morning.

“I…” Oh, God. He wanted so badly.

“You don’t have to say it; your body’s talking for you.”

His cock was full, and it wasn’t a piss hard-on. He needed.

“Ready for it to be me, instead of the plug, baby?”

“Yes,” he hissed.

“Face to face this time.” Daws rolled Chip over onto his back.

He reached for Daws, needing a little bit of balance, of control. Daws came down, his

body strong and hot as he pressed Chip into the mattress. Their mouths met, Daws kissing him

again. Chip grabbed Daws’ shoulders and squeezed.

Pushing Chip’s knees apart with his legs, Daws settled between them, the kiss continuing

through the maneuvering. “Spread for me, sweet baby. Show me everything.”

Chip groaned, cheeks burning.

“Come on, you know you want it, want me to see, to make you feel.”

When had Daws learned to be so erotic? So masterful?

Daws helped Chip, hands spreading his legs apart. His cock leaked on his belly, his heavy

balls resting like they were protecting his hole. Daws rolled them, fingers hot on Chip’s skin. His

thighs tightened, his ass lifting from the bed.

“Pretty baby.” Daws licked Chip’s jaw, fingers moving down past his balls now.

“I…” He wasn’t. That made his body clench, the way Daws spoke to him.

“You can tell me anything.” Daws played with the base of the plug, and it nudged Chip’s

gland a couple of times.

“This is like a fucking dream.” A fantasy. A dark one. A private one.

“I’m no dream, baby.” Daws looked right into Chip’s eyes as the plug was slowly worked

out of him. “I’m as real as it gets. Right here with you.”

Chip groaned, his body clenching with need. Daws suddenly pushed the plug back into

him, banging it on his gland.

“Fuck!” Chip arched, his fingers digging into Daws’ arms.

“Fucking love how sensitive you are.” Daws reached over to the little bedside table and

grabbed a condom and the lube.

No one had ever suggested that to him, said that.

“Lemme get gloved up, baby.” Daws slid the condom on, then lubed up his cock. It

looked huge down there between his legs.

“I can’t believe I’m in the back room of some club…”

“You’re in my bed, Chip. That’s all you need to worry about.”

It was easier said that way…

Daws swatted Chip’s cock, and his focus snapped back. Daws gave him a shit-eating grin

and put one of Chip’s legs over his shoulder, bending it back as Daws moved closer. Chip felt

the thick head of Daws’ prick against his hole. His body instinctively tightened, like his hole was

trying to kiss the tip of Daws’ cock.

“Easy, baby. Easy.” Daws stroked Chip’s belly.

Easy. He sucked in a deep breath, looking for that ease, the hint of control. Daws kept

stroking, hips moving now, sliding the thick meat in and out.

“Fuck.” His shoulders curled up, head leaving the mattress.

Daws’ mouth landed on his, tongue fucking his lips. That thick cock sank in deep,

stretching his hole. “So fucking hot and tight, baby. Fucking sweet.”

He’d never been filled so deep, stretched so wide. He’d never dreamed he could be.

Never.

Daws pressed his lips against Chip’s again, their breath mingling as their bodies joined

together over and over.

Crazy. This was… Oh, fuck. Harder.

Like Daws could hear his thoughts, the man pounded into Chip, prick nailing his gland.

He barked out a cry, driving himself down harder and faster.

“That’s it, baby. Fucking stud. Fucking hot.”

Chip propped himself up on his elbows, fucking himself hard, needing this burn like

nothing else.

“Jesus Christ, you’re a live wire.” Daws looked like he was searching out sheer fucking

bliss.

“Need it.” Like breathing. Now.

“Got it for you, baby. All for you.”

He didn’t need to be lied to, but damn, it felt good. Sounded good.

Daws shifted and banged Chip’s gland like the man was drilling for fucking oil.

“Yes!” Chip was going to fucking scream. “Don’t fucking stop. Please. Please, man. I

need.”

“I know.” Daws seemed to, plowing into him like a fucking machine.

Chip sobbed once, trying to make his brain work enough to lean down and grab his cock.

Before he could figure it out, Daws’ big hand wrapped around Chip’s prick, the force of the

man’s thrusts pushing it along Daws’ palm.

Oh, fuck. Yes. Yes, so good. Chip barked out a sharp sound, his entire body tightening.

“Remember, you can’t come until I say you can.”

“Gonna.” He was so close.

“When I say so,” growled Daws, banging in hard.

“Oh, fuck.” His eyes crossed.

“I know you can fucking wait for my command. I know you want to.”

He did. He wanted to make Daws proud. God damn it.

“So fucking hot, baby. You’re so hot.” That hot prick inside him felt even better than the

words.

“Daws.” He needed to come.

“I know, baby.” Daws hunched over and kissed him, never missing a thrust. As their lips

parted, the magic word was spoken. “Come.”

Spunk sprayed from him, his entire body shaking with it.

“That’s it, baby. Fucking sexy.” Daws’ mouth covered his again, the kiss stealing his

breath, making his vision sparkle as his orgasm went on and on.

His entire world swam, his head so dizzy.

Daws finally broke the kiss, resting their foreheads together. Chip swallowed, holding on.

Smiling, Daws kissed him slowly. “Good morning, baby.”

“Morning.” This was, without question, the weirdest morning he’d ever had.

Grinning, Daws slid out of him and ditched the condom. “Stop thinking, Chip.”

“Right.” Like he could do that. Could he do that?

Daws chuckled and settled next to him, pulling him close. “I’m on the job at seven, but

the day is mine. We should go have breakfast.”

“We could do that, yeah.” He had to be at his desk tomorrow morning; to be honest, he

was ready. It had been two weeks ago, but those four days off were two days too many, and it

took forever to get back in the swing of things.

“Cool.” Daws gave him a quick kiss and stood, stretching up, not seeming the least bit

concerned by his nudity.

“Is there a restroom?” Somewhere to clean up?

“Yep.” Daws nodded to a half open door opposite the door to the hallway.

“Thanks.” He went, did his business and cleaned up, making sure not to look at himself

in the mirror. What the fuck had he been thinking? Oh, right. He’d been using his tiny Southern

brain.

The knock to the door startled him. “You almost done?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I was woolgathering. Sorry.” He headed out and grabbed his clothes.

Daws gave him an admiring look. “I just need to brush my chompers.”

“Go for it.” Chip got dressed, checked his phone, frowning at the list of missed calls and

messages. Damn. They knew he was going to be out of pocket for the weekend.

Daws came out a moment later, grabbing a backpack and shoving his leathers into it. It

was only then Chip realized the man was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

He nodded once, started flipping through messages, then frowned. “I have to call my

partner.”

The messages said something about needing him to get back to Sam, then something

about heading out to the north side to meet an informant and then…nonsense. Pure nonsense.

He hit one on speed dial, frowning when a woman’s voice answered. “I’m looking for

Sam.”

“Chip? Chip, it’s Sarah. You… I… They found his body this morning. Can you come?”

Chip hit the door running, and he never once looked back.

Chapter Five

Shift finished, Dawson went to the Blue Bottle and ordered a beer. It had been a long

fucking day. Shit, it had been a long fucking two weeks.

He checked his phone. No messages. He’d left a couple for Chip, but the man wasn’t

calling him back.

The man hadn’t called at all ever since running out on him the morning after they’d

gotten together. Oh, he knew why now, knew it wasn’t him. Fuck, the entire precinct knew

Chip’s partner and one of their CIs had been killed the night they’d been together. Leaving a

widow, a little kid. Dawson would lay good money on Chip blaming himself, even though both

he and Sam had been off the clock.

He looked at his phone, debating calling again.

Chip came in, sporting a black eye, a split lip, and headed straight to the back, never even

seeing him.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Dawson grabbed his beer and headed after the man.

Chip was in the farthest booth, head down, and Deidre, Petey’s daughter, was right

behind him. “What can I get you, honey?”

“Whiskey, neat. Burger.”

“Make it two.” Dawson sat down across from Chip.

Chip looked over at him, black eye totally bloodshot.

He waited until Deidre had gone then rested his elbows on the table, leaning in. “You

look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

He snorted. “You run into someone’s fist?”

“Couple of times. Worked out, though, because he found out it hurt way worse when it

was his turn.”

“Look, you need someone to blow off steam with, I’m your man.” Dawson could turn

Chip inside out, make the man forget his own name, let alone the pain and guilt he was carrying

over his partner’s death.

Chip shook his head. “You’re too pretty to mess up, man.”

“Oh, I wasn’t thinking of fighting you. At least not that way.” He could tie Chip up, let

the man scream and shout and get everything out.

Chip shook his head. “I’m not in the market for…extracurricular activities. I have a

murderer to catch.”

“So, you’re just going to keep letting assholes beat you up until you’re not feeling guilty

anymore?” Dawson wasn’t going to let that happen. He might have only known Chip a short

time, but he cared for the man. Hell, he’d had a year of looking to make him ready to fall. He just

maybe wasn’t ready to admit yet, exactly how hard he’d landed.

“Nope. I’m going to let assholes throw the first punch, so I don’t get taken down for

brutality.”

“You need to do something life-affirming, baby.”

“I need to find Sam’s killer.”

Deidre came over with the whiskey. “The burgers will be out in two shakes.”

Chip slammed the drink back. “Bring me another?”

“He’ll have a beer,” Daws put in. He gave Chip a glare, daring the man to contradict him.

“Back off, man.”

“No. I won’t.”

Deidre wisely disappeared. He hoped she’d be just as smart in bringing Chip his drink,

making it that beer he’d ordered and not another whiskey.

“I’m not playing games with you.” Those blue eyes were snapping, firing furiously.

“I’m not playing either, Chip. I’m deadly serious, and you’re going to pop a vein if you

don’t let go of some of that hate and hurt and guilt and anger wrapped up inside you.” He knew

what he was talking about; he’d seen more than one man implode from the stresses of the job.

“I was playing hen to your rooster when my partner needed me.”

“You were on a fucking day off. So was your partner.” He was not letting Chip blame

this on anyone but the man responsible for it—the fucking killer. “Besides. Seems to me there

were two roosters there.” What he did—what they’d done–that had nothing to do with one

partner being in any way girly.

“I know. Just… I’m not in a place to be reasonable, okay? I don’t want to pick a fight

with you.” The words were handed over carefully, like Chip was just barely keeping himself

from exploding.

Dawson met Chip’s gaze, answering just as seriously. “I’m offering you a place where

you don’t have to be reasonable.”

“I can’t do that. I need to work this case.”

“What does the Captain have to say about that?” No way had the Captain sanctioned this.

Chip was far too close to the case.

“I don’t give a shit what he says,” Chip snarled, eyes flashing. “The fucker tells me he’s

getting me a new partner? Not fucking likely.”

Deidre came back with a beer for Chip and their burgers. She set them carefully on the

table. “You boys need anything else, you let me know.”

“Thanks, honey.” Chip smiled at her.

She nodded. “I’m sorry about Sam. We all are. He was a nice man.”

“Thanks, Deidre,” Dawson said softly. “Can you put all this on my tab? I’ll settle up with

your dad at the end of the week.” Dawson wanted to be able to hustle Chip right out of here

when they were done eating and not have to worry about paying up.

“You got it.”

“Thanks.” Dawson gave her a nod and turned back to Chip. “Eat up, man. I get the

feeling you need the protein.”

Chip picked at his food, and sucked down his beer, the look of the man pure defeat. That

settled it; Dawson was taking Chip home. The situation sucked. The whole thing sucked, but

Chip wasn’t at fault, damn it. And the man needed to let go.

Dawson ate his own burger quickly, needing to be ready to split when Chip was.

Chip looked at him, finished his beer. “I need another one. You see Deidre?”

“No, I’m taking you home. I have beer in the fridge.” Though it wasn’t beer that Chip

needed.

“Home?” Chip looked at him. “This isn’t a good idea, man.”

“It’s what you need, baby. If you’re done, let’s go.”

“This isn’t a good idea,” Chip repeated the words slowly, carefully.

“I disagree.”

“I need another beer.”

“I said I had some in the fridge.” He stood up and grabbed Chip’s arm. “Come on, man.”

“Okay. Damn it. I’m just… I’m not in the mood, man.”

Dawson led Chip out. “For the beer in my fridge?”

“For anything.” Chip was so fucking tired he wasn’t there.

“You don’t have to do anything, man.” Dawson put Chip in his car and went around,

started it up.

Chip stared at him. Just stared.

“We’ll be there in a jiffy,” he promised.

“I need to get back to work.”

“I don’t think so.” Dawson kept driving. Chip needed to let go, and he needed to sleep.

Despite everything, Dawson couldn’t help thinking about Chip, over and over, fantasizing about

the man on his knees.

He pulled up at his place. “Come on in.”

“Okay.” Chip slid from the seat, crossing the street to Dawson’s house. Someone knew

where Dawson lived. Interesting.

Had Chip showed up before? Looking for him, for help? The thought warmed him, deep

down. It meant he’d done the right thing, bringing Chip here if the man knew instinctively this

was where he needed to be.

Dawson unlocked the door and let Chip in. “You want that beer, or you ready to let go?”

“I can’t let go.”

“I can help you with that.”

Chip looked at him, eyes just devastated. “I can’t do it, do you understand?”

“I do. But you don’t. Come on.” He grabbed Chip’s arm again and led the man to the

bedroom. He had a big four-poster, lined cuffs, and hands that itched to smack Chip’s bottom

until it was red and the man had finished screaming.

“I’m not fucking you. Not.”

“That’s not the plan.”

“I should have been there, with him. He called me.” Chip’s words were full of anguish

and pain. Guilt.

“You were off the clock, Chip. He shouldn’t have been there.” The hard part was that

Dawson totally got where Chip was coming from. He would be making the same arguments if he

were in Chip’s shoes.

“You know, that’s not how it works for us.”

“I know. Doesn’t make it any less true.”

Chip met Dawson’s eyes. “I need to go, before I lose it.” Those hands reached for

Dawson; though, they didn’t push him away.

Pulling Chip to him, Dawson pressed their mouths together. It was safe for Chip to lose it

with him.

Chip pushed into the kiss, then the man stepped away. “Not now.”

“Now is exactly when you should.” He pulled Chip back in, took the man’s mouth again.

He couldn’t fix this. No one could. But he could help. He could give Chip somewhere

safe. He grabbed Chip’s wrists and tugged the man toward the bed. Chip growled under his

breath, pulling at Dawson’s hands, but Dawson didn’t let go.

He got Chip onto the mattress, pulling Chip’s right arm up to the bedpost, wrapping

Chip’s fingers around the wood.

Chip spoke, words tight. “I’m going to lose it, man. I’ve already kicked someone’s ass

today.”

“I’m giving you a place where it’s safe to lose it, baby.” Dawson knew Chip understood

this. He knew it. Chip had been strong enough to kneel for him.

He grabbed Chip’s left hand and brought it up to the headboard, too. Waiting for Chip to

take hold, he grabbed at the drawer on the nightstand. He had cuffs in there.

“I’m going home, you asshole.” Chip’s hands never moved.

“You’ll stay.” Dawson found the cuffs and wrapped one around the first wrist, binding

Chip to the bed.

“No fucking way.” Still, Chip waited to fight until the second cuff was securely fastened.

Good boy.

Dawson leaned in and took a kiss, making it hard, showing Chip his strength. Chip fought

and snarled, kicking, pulling at the bonds.

“That’s it, baby. Let it out.”

“Don’t you call me baby.”

“Why not?”

Chip groaned, cursing him, needing him.

“Sweet baby.” He bit at Chip’s lower lip and started pulling off the man’s clothes.

There were hard-core bruises all over the man’s ribs, proving that Chip had been fighting

more than once. Dawson slid his fingers over Chip’s skin, tracing the bruises. Then he caught

Chip’s gaze and very slowly, very deliberately pressed in against one of the bruises.

Chip’s body rippled, and the man groaned, the sound tearing from him. That was it.

Dawson found another bruise and pushed into it as well.

“Don’t. Fucker.” Uh-huh. Chip was getting off on the pain; the man was into it.

Dawson started working off Chip’s pants. He’d be back to those bruises, though.

Chip fought him, kicking and cussing, but Chip’s feet never slammed into him, never

crashed into him. The man never once deliberately hurt him. He gave Chip a good fight, slowly

getting the pants removed, then Chip’s underwear and socks.

“You bastard! You fucker! You let me go!”

“I don’t think so.” Dawson stripped his own clothes off.

“Motherfucker!” Chip arched, lips parted, cheeks flushed.

He slid his hand over Chip’s belly and pressed against another bruise. Chip’s breath

huffed out of him in a rush. He pressed a bruise right by Chip’s hip. Chip grunted, one leg

drawing up.

Oh, how his baby needed.

He slid his hand around behind Chip’s balls, rubbed that little hole.

“I should have been there. Not doing this.”

“You were off the clock. So was he.” He pushed a finger into Chip’s hole.

“Don’t do this.” Chip rolled up, pushed into Dawson’s touch, body pulling at his finger

hungrily.

Dawson grabbed for the lube at the edge of the nightstand and pushed his finger in

deeper. Chip’s body shuddered around his touch, muscles gripping and jerking. Dawson slicked

up his other fingers and pushed a second in alongside the first, opening Chip up.

Chip grunted, ass clenching, trying to fight him.

Dawson was insistent, though. Insistent and patient, pushing his fingers deeper, stretching

them wide, whenever Chip gave in the slightest.

“Daws. Daws, fuck.”

“You can do anything you need to. I’ve got your back.” More than he’d ever had anyone

else’s. Ever.

“I just want to stop thinking. Do you understand?”

“No thinking. No problem.”

Chip’s eyes met his, desperation written on the man’s face.

Dawson worked on a condom and settled between Chip’s legs. “No thinking.” He sank

into Chip’s body. Chip was like a fire inside, muscles rippling and shaking, fluttering around

him. He groaned, pushing all the way in.

Dawson grabbed Chip’s hips, dragging him up into each thrust. “Gonna fuck you as long

as it takes.”

Chip’s response was just a shake of the head.

“I am.” He set a hard, fast rhythm. He wasn’t going to let Chip think for a second.

Sometimes you just needed to feel. He held Chip’s gaze, pounding into the tight, needy body.

“I don’t want to do this.”

Daws didn’t believe that for a second. He pounded in harder. Chip needed this. Chip

knew it, too, body meeting his, eager for each and every blessed thrust.

“Fuck…” Chip tugged at the cuffs, muscles rippling. The man was fucking stunning.

“You’re safe here,” he told Chip.

“We’re not safe anywhere.”

“You’re safe here,” Dawson repeated the words, punctuating each one with a thrust.

“Fuck you!” The screamed words proved that Chip was on the edge.

Dawson nodded. He was going to take everything Chip had to give; the man needed

release. He kept punching in, giving Chip all his help, his support. He was right fucking here,

and so was Chip.

He didn’t touch Chip’s prick—the longer this took, the more Chip could let go.

Chip thrashed, driving himself faster, almost hysterically. Dawson reached out and

pinched Chip’s left nipple, good and hard. Chip jerked, ass like a fist around his cock. He

pinched the hard little bit of flesh again, then again, until Chip took in a gasping breath, and

Dawson was able to punch in again.

“Fuck. I hate this shit.”

“What do you hate, baby?” He punctuated every word with another thrust, finding a slow,

hard rhythm.

“That it hurts so bad.”

Yeah. Yeah, he did too. Losing your partner was fucking brutal.

“What else do you hate?” He wanted Chip to let it all out, every single bit of hurt and

pain and rage.

“Everything! Let me up!”

“No. Tell me.” He pushed in with more force.

“You, fuck!” Chip fought harder, breath hitching.

“Yep. Tell me.”

“He’s gone! He’s fucking dead, and she keeps crying, and I can’t do this.”

“You don’t have to do it right now. All you have to do is feel.” Dawson wanted Chip to

let go, to have this—a safe place where he knew he could come and vent and scream and let it all

out.

“I’m tired.”

Dawson knew that too. And he was going to fuck the man into oblivion.

He grabbed Chip’s thighs, right under the knees, bending the man almost in half. He kept

punching, driving harder and harder into Chip’s body. His balls were aching, his abs burning. He

could only imagine how Chip’s hole felt. He finally grabbed hold of Chip’s prick, jacking it

hard.

“Daws…” Chip was gulping in air.

“Come on, baby. Let go of it all now. Just come for me.”

“I can’t!”

“Then we’ll do this until you can.” He pressed Chip further back, pounding in even

harder.

“It’s all fucking caught! You did that to me!”

He shook his head. “I just fucked you, baby.”

“Everything’s caught up in me.”

“Then let it go, baby.” He pushed his thumb into Chip’s slit.

The sting was enough, just like he’d hoped, and Chip shot, convulsing underneath him.

“That’s it, baby.” He pushed in twice more before his own orgasm overtook him, and he

filled the condom.

Chip rested, still and quiet underneath Dawson. He panted, slowly catching his breath as

he watched Chip.

“I have to go.” Chip’s body held him tight, the man clinging hard to him.

“You’ll stay the night.” He’d make Chip sleep, even if he had to keep the man tied to his

bed all night to do it.

“I can’t. I can’t just stay.” Chip was taking hitching breaths.

“You can and you will.” Dawson pressed their foreheads together. “You’re going to

sleep.”

“I can’t.” There was hysteria, right there.

He slid out of Chip and pulled off the condom. “There’s no where for you to go.”

“You let me up.”

Dawson just shook his head, dumped the latex in the garbage, then pounced, taking

Chip’s prick in his mouth and sucking hard.

“Don’t!”

He knew Chip’s prick would be sensitive, the suction almost more pain than pleasure. He

pulled it deep into his throat and swallowed around it.

Chip started fighting hard, kicking and cussing, calling him every name in the book.

Dawson let it wash over him, knowing full well that Chip needed the release. Chip’s cock began

to flag, and Dawson pushed two fingers in the man’s tender ass, pegging his gland.

Come on, baby. He knew how badly Chip needed this extra orgasm, needed it to

completely tire the man out. Chip’s body jerked, a weak splash of spunk hitting Dawson’s throat

about the time exhausted sobs hit his ears.

He pulled off gently, making sure Chip was clean, then rose up, took the man in his arms

and held on.

“Fuck you.” Chip didn’t pull away, shoulders shaking, the man exhausted, worn through.

Dawson didn’t say anything, letting his hand stroke down along Chip’s back. Once the

man had settled, he’d uncuff him.

Rocking the man gently, he found himself humming, letting Chip rage and cry. He’d see

Chip through this to the other side, and he’d be there, waiting for the man.

That made him stop a second, pause. He’d comforted a lot of men, topped a number, but

Chip was different. Chip was special.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t cared about the other men, but he cared about Chip. More than he

could admit, more than was smart.

He wanted to make things better for Chip. No, he thought, maybe he had to.

Dawson warmed Chip’s skin, stroking his back all the way down to his ass. Chip

shivered, muscles caught between tension and relaxation.

“Relax, baby. I’ve got your back,” he murmured the words.

“I don’t know how.” The whispered words were more powerful than any scream.

“Close your eyes, baby, and listen to my voice.”

To his surprise, Chip’s eyes closed.

“Good boy. Now take in a breath and hold it. Four, three, two, one. And let it go.”

Chip breathed, for him. Good. So good.

“Keep breathing. In, four, three, two, one. And out again.” He ran his hand along Chip’s

back in the same rhythm as his words.

It meant so much, that Chip trusted him, relaxed.

“Keep breathing, and clear your mind now. Feel each breath going through you, focus

only on your breath.”

Tears slid from the man’s closed eyes, but the tension was easing. Dawson kept talking

softly, directing Chip’s breathing, encouraging the man’s muscles to relax. If he could get Chip

to stop thinking long enough, the man would fall asleep. Chip sighed softly, face buried in

Dawson’s shoulder.

“That’s it, baby. That’s it.” Dawson unhooked the cuffs from the bed, but left them on

Chip’s wrists. The weight would be comforting, maybe. He kept murmuring. The words didn’t

matter; he just wanted Chip to hear his voice, to sink into it.

It took almost an hour, but then he had a sleeping, healing cop, holding onto him for dear

life. It was only then that Dawson let himself truly relax and join Chip in the land of nod.

Chapter Six

Chip woke up soaked in sweat, convinced he was late and knowing he wasn’t in his

apartment. He landed on the floor, moving before he was even partially awake.

“Baby.” A big hand wrapped around his forearm, tugging him back onto the bed. “Where

are you going in such a hurry?”

“I…” He shook himself hard, trying to wake up. Come on, man.

“It’s four a.m. Come back to bed.” Daws—that voice belonged to Daws—pulled him in

close, body solid and warm. “Too early to be anywhere, but in bed.”

“Daws.” He was so tired, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t make sense.

Daws slid his hand down Chip’s back. “It’s okay, baby. Just go back to sleep.”

“My head hurts.”

“I could get you some aspirin, but I think the best thing for it will be sleep.” Daws’ voice

was rough and growly, still thick from sleeping.

“Mmm.” His eyes closed, that touch hypnotic, easy, helping him melt. Daws kept

touching him, murmuring something Chip couldn’t quite make out every now and then.

Finally he dozed off, eyelids heavy and burning.

Anytime he felt like he was going to wake up again, soft touches and a low rumble

soothed him back under. Sometimes he dreamed, a few times he didn’t, he just floated.

It was the sun that finally woke him properly, shining in around the curtains. His state of

mind was better this time, more solid.

Daws kissed the top of his head and murmured something.

“Mmm hmm,” he agreed, although he wasn’t sure that was even a question.

Daws’ next kiss landed on Chip’s lips, this one soft. He kept his eyes closed, unwilling to

be aware, be real. Daws’ mouth opened his, tongue slipping past his lips. He moaned, letting

Daws steal his focus.

Large hands slid over his body. God, Daws was warm. Felt so good. The touches were

half massage, half arousal.

“Is it morning?” Did he have to go?

“Just barely. You’re good where you are.”

He couldn’t decide whether to apologize or say thank you. Daws didn’t seem to care

about either, lips pressed against his. Chip groaned, pushing into the man’s embrace. He wanted

Daws to make it better—stupid as that was.

Daws opened his mouth, tongue pushing in as Chip was rolled beneath the strong body.

Yes. Fuck, yes. Help me. The really crazy thing was that somehow he knew Daws could.

Would.

Daws’ body was solid and hard, hot, pressing Chip into the mattress. One hand dragged

along his side. He was aching, sore and bruised, and still Daws felt so good.

The kisses stole his breath, Daws giving no quarter, not letting Chip think, only feel and

feel. He met Daws’ hunger full force, diving into the kisses. Daws rubbed against him, the man’s

prick hard and hot against Chip’s belly, against his own cock. Pumping up, Chip let his

frustration, his fury, everything out, driving up into Daws.

Daws took it, the man strong enough and willing enough to take it from him. Chip

moaned, wild with his need and so fucking grateful that Daws was here. Daws kept rocking,

grinding into him and letting him feel so much. He’d come over, twice, needing to…

Feeling. Just feeling.

Daws bit at his lower lip, teeth sharp, the sensation bright. Chip groaned, eyes flying

open. His left nipple was twisted as Daws’ mouth covered his again. Then a bright sensation

sparked as Daws pressed into a bruise on Chip’s right hip. He bit out a cry, his still-cuffed hands

wrapping around Daws’ throat. Daws turned his face, biting Chip’s wrist right above the cuff.

“Fuck! Fuck, you bastard.” Do it again.

His words had Daws growling, biting again, only harder this time. The bite was sharp,

shooting sensation right through him.

Chip surged up, rolling them over, Daws ending up on the bottom. Daws broke the kiss,

moving to wrap hot lips around Chip’s neck, sucking hard.

“Marks…” Daws would leave marks on his skin.

“Uh-huh.” Daws growled and rolled Chip back down, hands holding his wrists below the

cuffs, pressing them into the bed above his head.

He struggled, fighting, the cuffs heavy around his wrists as he pushed and pulled and

tried to escape, trusting Daws to hold him.

Daws held him down, returning to suck up that mark on his neck. Then his shoulder was

bitten, Daws refusing to back down.

“Going to beat your ass.” Chip was on fucking fire.

“Other way around, baby.” Daws bit again, heading directly for his right nipple.

“More. Fuck, Daws. More.” He needed to be here, so badly.

“Uh-huh.” Daws got to his nipple and began worrying just the tip with his teeth.

Chip’s toes curled, that ache fierce, making his hips roll as he fucked the air. Daws

pressed down against him, giving his prick friction and warmth. Fuck, yes. Yes. Just like that.

His nipple was stinging, his balls heavy, and Chip was flying.

Daws pressed a leg between Chip’s, knee shoving against his balls, thigh pressing on his

cock.

“Gonna. Gonna, oh, fuck…” He pushed down hard.

“Come on,” growled Daws, meeting his downward motion with a thrust of thigh.

Spunk sprayed from him, the sensation too big to be pleasure.

“Want you.” Daws met his eyes.

He nodded. “Lube.” After last night, he needed lots of lube.

“I’ve got extra if we need it.” Daws reached for a whole fucking jar of the stuff.

“Okay. I’m sore.”

“Well-used.” Daws got his fingers slick, taking a big dollop of the stuff, and rubbed

Chip’s hole with it.

He groaned, nodded, eyes crossing at the pressure. He was sore, but he needed this,

needed what Daws could give him.

Daws stroked over his hole, pushing just the tip of his finger in again, and again, filling

Chip with lube. He bore down, took that finger in.

“Eager baby.” Daws pushed his finger in all the way.

“I came here, to see you.” He clenched around that finger.

“I picked you up at the bar, baby.”

“I know. I meant before.”

Daws pushed a second finger into him. “Oh?”

Chip groaned, legs drawing up.

“You didn’t ring the bell.” Daws stretched him.

Chip shook his head. He just watched the windows. It hadn’t been enough, but it had

helped, just being close, knowing Daws was right there.

“Why not?” Daws hit his gland.

He just shook his head again, riding the lightning climbing up his spine. Daws hit that

spot again, his tongue slapping the mark on his neck.

“Fuck.” He jerked, riding hard, driving himself onto those fingers.

More lube was added, and a third finger pushed in.

“Daws?” His belly went tight, his toes curled.

“Opening you up, baby. Giving you what you need.”

His rhythm slowed, but he still moved, taking Daws in.

“You want it, baby?”

He nodded. He wanted Daws to give him what he needed.

More lube made Daws’ fingers slippery, and Chip almost didn’t notice as a fourth pushed

into him. He groaned, hands wrapping around the headboard slats.

“You need more, baby? I’m going to give you more.”

Chip groaned, the sound rumbling from deep, deep inside him. More.

Daws’ hand disappeared, then it was back, more cool slick pushing into him and quickly

warming.

“Here you go, baby.”

Chip’s eyes were wide, staring, but his focus was on his ass. He could feel Daws’ hand

pushing into him, Daws’ whole fucking hand opening him up.

“Daws…” His abs rolled, hands white-knuckled.

Daws’ free hand landed on Chip’s belly, rubbing the muscles. And that other hand kept

moving forward, stretching him wider than he’d ever been stretched before.

“I can’t…” He was going to split in half.

“I’ve got you, Chip. All you have to do is lie back and feel.” That hand kept moving,

Daws kept pushing then before Chip could take another breath, the widest part was through.

Deep, raw sounds pushed out of him, harsh and rough. He could feel his body snap

around Daws’ wrist, holding that hand so tightly inside him.

“Let it all out, baby. Make room for my hand.”

There wasn’t room for anything else. Ever. Lost in the sensations, Chip sobbed out his

soul.

Daws didn’t stay still. That hand moved inside him, nudging his gland and sliding along

Chip’s inner walls. His toes curled, the pressure on his gland nearly unbearable.

“Whenever you need a safe place in your head, you remember me, Chip. You remember

this.” Daws’ hand closed into a fist.

“Daws…” Spunk sprayed from him, splashing on his belly.

“That’s right. Me and my hand and you coming.” Leaning in, Daws licked the cum from

his belly.

Chip whimpered, cock still achingly hard.

“So fucking hot, Chip.” Daws began moving his hand again.

Chip was going to lose his mind.

Daws’ free hand slid along his belly and up to his nipples, flicking sharply across each in

turn. He cried out, shook his head. Please. Daws’ fingers came back to Chip’s right nipple and

twisted it.

“Please.” He didn’t know what he was begging for.

Daws closed his mouth over Chip’s other nipple, sucking hard, that hand pushing into his

gland again. Again.

The room went dim, as Chip screamed out his pleasure.

* * * *

Daws panted, his prick hard and leaking. His hand was inside Chip’s body. It was fucking

stunning. Bending, he licked more of the man’s spunk from his sweet belly.

Chip was soaked in sweat, eyes rolling, need written on every line of the man’s face.

Daws licked his way down to Chip’s cock, taking the head in and sucking on it. The man had to

be viciously sensitive. He flicked his tongue across the slit.

Chip’s cry was almost pained.

Daws pulled off slowly. “I’m holding you in my hand.” It was the most amazing, most

intense, most necessary thing he’d ever done. There was never going to be anyone else for him.

No matter what happened with Chip, this was it. Chip was it for him.

Those beautiful eyes were dazed, unfocused.

Yeah, that’s it, he thought, forget about everything. Nothing else exists. Just us, together,

right now. “I’ve got you, baby.”

Chip whimpered, nodded.

“All mine.” No one else had ever given Chip what he needed. Not like Daws could. No

one else ever would have the chance to if Dawson had his way.

Chip focused on him, and Daws let his lover know how much he meant it. It was the

truth.

He opened up his hand. “Mine.” He closed his hand again.

“Yours. Yes. You’re fucking everywhere.”

“I am. Holding you in my hand.”

Chip groaned, lips opening as those tiny muscles rippled around Dawson.

“Look at me, baby.” He waited until Chip’s eyes focused and met his. “Next time you

need me you either phone or ring my doorbell.”

Chip nodded, swallowing hard. “Next time.”

He nodded back, believing Chip knew he was here, for Chip.

Chip responded, tongue sliding against his, lips opening. Dawson poured himself into the

kiss, into Chip. And Chip accepted him, took him in.

He started slowly working his hand out of Chip’s body. Chip knew, Chip got it, so it was

time.

Soft sounds filled his lips, Chip needing him. He kept kissing as he worked his hand out.

He had a condom handy. He would bury himself back inside Chip as soon as he was free. Then

he’d hopefully convince Chip to sleep a little bit longer before heading back into the fray.

Chip’s body fought Dawson, but he eventually got his hand out, his fingers suddenly cold

as they slid away.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, empty.”

“I’ve got you covered, baby.” Dawson quickly worked on the condom, his prick hard and

hot, every touch testing his control.

Finally, he slipped inside, making sure that this time they were making love, that he was

letting Chip feel good, body and heart and soul.

He held the man’s eyes, letting Chip see how much Dawson cared. Chip reached for him,

with those still bound-in-leather-cuffs hands, and wrapped around his shoulders. Turning his

head, Daws kissed the skin just above the leather on Chip’s right hand before resuming his

thrusts.

Slow and easy, they moved together, Chip humming for him, moaning low. Dawson

pressed kisses over Chip’s face, murmured softly, not words, just sounds that told Chip he was

there, he cared, he loved.

“Thank you.” The words were whispered, almost breathed over Dawson’s skin.

He spoke his reply against Chip’s lips. “Anytime.”

He pushed in, sliding deep as he came, pleasure washing over him. Moaning, he punched

in a few more times. Chip held him, quiet and still, heartbeat slowing.

He breathed into Chip’s neck, words on his lips, though he didn’t give them voice. It was

too early, and Chip wasn’t ready. They weren’t ready.

It didn’t make it not true.

He kissed Chip’s neck. “Sleep, baby.” Heal.

Chip nodded. “Stay?”

“As long as you need.”

And he meant it.

Chapter Seven

Chip stood at Dawson’s door, trying to remember how to breathe. He knew Daws was

home. He knew it. He’d seen the man answer the door for the pizza delivery boy. He’d been

casing the house for hours.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there before he pushed the doorbell, but he finally did.

The door opened and Daws’ face split into a smile. “Baby.” Daws stepped back and

motioned Chip inside.

“Hey.” He stepped in, letting the door close and lock behind him.

Daws drew him close and took his mouth. Just like that he was welcomed home.

Chip stepped up, hands sliding around Daws’ waist. He needed. He needed to be touched,

to be fucked, to be Daws’ for a while. To leave Officer McMullen outside. Daws’ kiss stole

Chip’s breath, letting him sink into this place, this man. All Chip could do was hold on, trust in

Daws’ hands, strength.

Daws pushed Chip up against the wall, hand by his head, body pressing him against the

unyielding plaster. He pushed back, needing a little fight, a little force. Daws didn’t disappoint

Chip, shoving him back, kiss growing some teeth.

He arched, growling, his need riding him. Daws grabbed one of his legs, tugging it up to

circle Daws’ hip.

“Fuck. Fuck, more.” Make him take it.

Daws pulled open Chip’s shirt, fingers rough on his chest. He arched up into those hands,

his newly pierced nipples aching for touch. Daws went right for them, tugging lightly and

making Chip’s nipples sting so good. He groaned, protested, but it was cursory; he wanted it.

His pants were the next to go. Daws tore the button open, tugging the zipper and pulling

his pants down off his hips.

Then the words came. “Hands behind your head, baby. Spread wide for me.”

Chip groaned, fingers curling. Daws helped him get in position, hands sure and warm.

“Fucking beautiful.” Daws’ words were like a touch all their own.

Daws moved his hands on Chip, fingers pushing hard at his skin. Chip’s cock was full

and aching, his nipples hard, his belly rippling. Daws tugged on both of his nipple rings, and

pinched the head of his prick. Chip’s eyes rolled, and he went up on tiptoe.

“Turn around for me, baby. I can’t wait to fuck you.”

Chip groaned, turned, ass rolling back toward Daws’ hands.

His lover grabbed and squeezed. “Fucking hot, baby.”

“Need you. Now.”

The sharp slap made him whimper, thighs shaking. “You take what I give you, baby.”

Chip heard material shifting, heard the sound of a condom wrapper being torn. He

groaned, torn between pushing and begging and submitting.

Daws pushed Chip’s feet further apart, cockhead rubbing against his hole. “I know you

want to be touched, be made to give it up to me.” Daws’ words made Chip nod. He could admit

anything to Daws, no matter how hard.

Daws pushed Chip’s legs a little further apart, and this time the two slick fingers pushed

into his ass. “Tight, hot little hole. Going to plug you tonight, baby. Something big and fat that

you can’t ignore.”

Oh, fuck. The fingers inside him found his gland, bumping hard against it.

“Gonna tie you to my bed and have my wicked way with you.”

Chip went up on tiptoe, rocking forward.

Daws found that spot once more, then the man’s fingers slid away. “Me now, baby.

Gonna fuck you up against the wall, take what I want.”

It was about fucking time.

That thick prick was back, pushing at Chip’s hole. Just when he was about to scream to

Daws to get on with it already, the head breached him, Daws slowly pushing in.

“Daws…” He was going out of his fucking mind.

“You’ll fucking take it how I give it to you, baby.”

“Asshole…” Fuck, he loved this man.

“Yep, I’m drilling yours.” Daws pushed the rest of the way in, nudging up against Chip’s

gland.

That touch stole his breath.

“Ready, baby?” Daws didn’t give Chip a chance to answer, that thick cock pulling most

of the way out before slamming back in again.

“Love!” He threw his head back, throat working.

“That’s right. And I’ve got you.” Daws set up a hard, fast rhythm, slamming into him

over and over.

Chip cried out, damn near climbing up the wall, his eyes rolling. Fuck. Fuck.

Daws didn’t let up for a second, shoving him hard against the wall. Daws gave him what

he wanted, what he needed, every time. Head resting on Chip’s neck, Daws’ hands gripped his

hips hard enough to bruise as that solid prick kept pounding into him. Chip’s world shrank to his

ass, to that cock filling him, taking him.

One of Daws’ hands slid around to Chip’s prick, wrapping it tight and tugging in time to

the hard thrusts.

“Fuck, yes.” Chip gritted his teeth, driving toward his fucking climax.

“Wait for permission, baby.”

A rumble started building in him at his lover’s words.

Daws shifted, finding Chip’s gland and shooting sensation up through his spine. He

arched, cum pulsing from him, spraying up along the wall.

Daws shook his head, but he sounded pleased. “Gonna have to punish you for that,

baby.”

“No way.” His skin rippled with that promise, his whole body alight.

“Yes. Way.” Daws’ words were hard. Sure. A fucking promise he knew the man would

keep. Thank fuck.

Daws filled him over and over, hand still on Chip’s cock as the man took his own

orgasm. There was nothing like Daws’ heat, solid and sure against Chip’s spine, his ass, his

thighs.

Daws leaned hard against Chip, panting against his neck. The hold on his hip loosened.

Daws slid his hand around to cup Chip’s balls. “Hey,” murmured Daws, squeezing lightly.

“Hey.” Chip’s thighs tightened.

Daws groaned for him, and his thick prick slowly slid out of Chip.

“Shower,” murmured Daws. “And you can tell me about your day.”

“It was long.” Chip reached down, took Daws’ fingers, squeezed once. “I know yours

was, too.” He’d heard the scuttlebutt around the precinct. Vice detective Gary Pardapt had gone

into rehab, and because it was an election year, the DA was making sure all the guys in Vice

were being looked at. Politics sucked.

Daws shrugged, arm going around Chip’s shoulders as they made their way down the hall

toward the bathroom. “I get three days off out of it. That’ll let me tear your ass up.”

“Three days, huh? Weird. Me too.”

They grinned at each other, for about half a second.

“Be longer if you didn’t spend three hours in your car outside the house before coming

in. Your fucking pizza is cold.”

Chip blushed dark, his cheeks burning. “It was better than last time. I rang the bell.” On

days he didn’t need Dawson so very badly he just used his key.

Daws nodded and pulled him in for a long, hard kiss. “I’ll always be here when you need

me, baby. No matter how long it takes.”

He leaned for half a second, breathed. “I know, man.”

He banked on it.

About the Author

Often referred to as “Space Cowboy” and “Gangsta of Love” while still striving for the moniker
of “Maurice”, Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his immense gourd
collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small, secluded island peopled entirely by
horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean
whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and pursuing the Kama Sutra by channeling
the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to Chicago.

A long-time writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts
of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys.

Barring any of that? He’ll stick with writing his stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies
together to see if they spark.

Find Sean on the web at www.seanmichaelwrites.com

Also Available from

Resplendence Publishing

Breaking Cover by Sean Michael

Handcuffs and Lace Series

Home for six months after an undercover assignment at BDSM club Testing Leather, Homicide
detective Brian Hurley can't shake the memories, or the feelings he developed, for undercover
partner Griffin McManus.

Griffin's having his own problems in the aftermath of the job, and he shows up on Brian's
doorstep, hoping one last night together will allow him to put it all behind him.

Will reconnecting as themselves help them let go, or will they find everything they need in each
other?

Actually by Mia Watts

Law student, Aaron Hedlund, is on the cusp of a new career with a cute boyfriend. Life is easy
and perfect, until he gets a call that shatters his plans.

When Ian Mitchell discovers that his sexy former student, Aaron, is back in town, he’s relieved
to know that someone will help Aaron’s little brother recover from the death of their parents. But
as Aaron struggles to keep the family together, Ian finds that getting close enough to help may be
more temptation than he can handle.

And the biggest challenge of all is showing Aaron that fixing shattered plans can become a
blessing, actually.

Love in La Terraza by Ethan Day

Cain Elliott is a desperate man. On the brink of losing La Terraza, the 1920’s Spanish style
courtyard apartment complex his grandmother left him in her will, he’s faced with the option of
selling to a real estate developer or losing the building outright, due to the costs of upkeep that
have now left him teetering on the brink of bankruptcy. One setback after another has slowly
whittled away any hope he’d been harboring to turn the tides. Having time for little else in life,
Cain’s guilt over his failure to protect the home of those who reside within the walls of La
Terraza has crippled his spirit.

On the partnership fast-track at the flashy architectural firm of Hamilton-Bach, Henry Abrams is
new in town, a little lonely and looking for inspiration. Tired of games and longing for
something real, Henry discovers the road to happiness could lie in the arms of the sad,
uncomplicated Cain Elliott.

Discovering that Hamilton-Bach represents the mysterious entrepreneur attempting to purchase
La Terraza, combined with the self-doubt and mistrust over a love that develops too fast, leave
both men struggling to decide whether or not they can truly find… Love in La Terraza.

Facing Fitz by Kim Dare

A to Z Series, Book 4

It took Harvey months to work up the courage to let his friends set him up on a date with Fitz—a
dominant he’d been admiring from afar ever since he set foot in the local kinky clubs. But, when
their first scene ended in disaster before it even got started, he was very quick to retreat.

Forget going back to the club where he made a fool of himself. Harvey’s determined never to
leave the house again. Facing Fitz is out of the question.

Fitz, however, has other ideas. Intrigued by what he saw on that first date he’s determined to do a
real scene with Harvey. Dominant to the core, Fitz has no intention of walking away from a boy
he’s genuinely interested in without a fight.

Harvey is going to have to get over his embarrassment and face Fitz sooner or later and, with the
help of a few friends, Fitz is determined he’ll do that tonight.

Line of Fire by Simone Anderson

SEALS at the Ready Series

Christian Williams has lived with his secret his whole life, and he’s not ready to give it up. He’s
especially not ready to face the consequences.

Consequences be damned, Hayden Medema is tired of living a lie. Don’t Ask Don’t Tell is dead
and gays are serving openly in the rest of the military. The Navy SEALs should be no different.

After coming face to face at a gay bar in a different city and a whirlwind weekend of sex,
Christian and Hayden along with fourteen other SEALs are sent on what appears to be another
routine mission, until someone learns their secret and everything goes horribly wrong.

Romero and Julian by Brynn Paulin

Stay away from them!

Wesley Romero and Micah Julian have heard the admonitions their entire lives, but when
lightning-fast attraction strikes them one night, they can’t deny the connection that binds them.
Their families may be engaged in a long-standing feud, but Wes and Micah want to solve their
differences in a more civilized manner—in bed and in each other’s embrace, where arm-to-arm
combat has never been so good.

In the Shadow of a Hero by Anna Mayle

A cop dies in the city, life goes on. For one little boy, though, it changed everything. Haunted by
his past, Maxwell Thomas has grown up homeless and friendless, trapped by his guilt. Prowling
the city, the small man guards the Church District like a vigilante, trying to make up for his
crime. When he rescues the wrong rent boy, he is pulled back into the madness that destroyed
him as a child. And now, another cop's life is on the line...

Nick Kenna is a beat cop with dreams of being a detective. When he stumbles across a murder
and the very unusual suspect, he finds himself caught, not only by the mystery of the vagrant he's
apprehended, but something deeper that sparks between them.

Will Nick be able to save Maxwell, from his past and himself? Or will love be lost as the broken
man fades into the shadow of his hero?

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