Bad Boys, Bad Boys

Excerpt from: Bad Boys, Bad Boys

Mack hooked the heel of his boot on the barstool rung across the room and wrapped his long fingers around the thick shaft of his beer bottle. Geo shivered with hungry appreciation. He watched the supple stretch of buttery black leather pull taut across Mack’s shoulder blades and the lift of the bottle rim to his lips. The bottle paused midway and Mack threw back his head on a bone-vibrating laugh.

“There he is,” Will yelled, knocking his shoulder against Mack’s.

“Hey,” Mack yelled over the din of sports commentary. He lifted his bottle in the air. His coat swung open, flashing the gold-on-leather detective’s badge of the

Maple Grove police department. “We were wondering where you were. What took so long?”

Geo’s lips pulled into an obligatory smile. It was nearly impossible to look Mack in the eye after the graphic sex dreams he’d been having about him for the last week. One had brought him to full wakefulness, belting out Mack’s name as his body convulsed in orgasm.

Crap of it was, he couldn’t exactly avoid him. Geo fingered his own badge, looped through his belt. Finding another man attractive made Geo gay, he supposed. Finding his fellow detective attractive, made it complicated. Gay partners. Sounded like a redundancy, but Geo didn’t think Mack or the other detectives would find it as amusing. Hell, he didn’t find it amusing, just incredibly erotic.

Pulling himself together, Geo pasted a smile on his face and ploughed through the bar’s smoky dimness as though he walked against a stiff wind.

“Covey case,” he said when he reached Mack and Will.

Mack shot him an asking look. “What could have happened in the twenty minutes since I left the office?”

He did lift the bottle to his lips this time, and Geo stole a glance at the hard amber glass pressing his partner’s mouldable lips. The rolled rim of the bottle resembled the flared head of a thick cock. Unavoidably, he imagined the firm, full lips pressed to the tip of his dick, sipping the mushroom head as he came in ball-wrenching spurts.

His gut clenched on the image. His brain desperately wanted to return everything to normal. The way it was before he grew sexually aware of his partner.

Geo slid his hands into his pockets to cover his physical reaction but couldn’t tear his eyes off Mack’s throat. It worked over each swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath silky tanned skin. Geo broke into a cold sweat.

“Chief wants a ’round the clock stakeout with Douglas and Nix.” Hours of sitting, alone, with Mack in a dark car. Not touching but wanting to and not really wishing to explore why touching Mack was fast becoming an obsession.

Fucking torture.