Night Shift

A Total-E-Bound Publication

www.total-e-bound.com

Night Shift ISBN # 978-1-907280-17-7 ©Copyright Jenna Byrne 2009 Cover Art by Lyn Taylor ©Copyright September 2009 Edited by Janice Bennett Total-E-Bound Publishing This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing. Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution. The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork. Published in 2009 by Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.

Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.

NIGHT SHIFT Jenna Byrnes

Dedication To Jack, who was my first…cop. You set the standard by which all my other cops live by.

Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Cadillac Seville: General Motors Corporation Cops: Barbour-Langley Productions, Inc. Formica: The Diller Corporation Jeep: DaimlerChrysler Corporation Law and Order: Studios USA Television Distribution LLC Lincoln Navigator: Ford Motor Company Queer Eye for the Straight Guy: Scout Productions, Inc. VW: Volkswagen Aktiengesellschaft Corporation

NIGHT SHIFT

Jenna Byrnes

5

Chapter One

Cullen Ryder stared at the TV in the homicide detective bullpen at his station house. Bernard Houtz, media spokesman for the chief of the Chicago Police Department, was giving a press conference outside city hall. “We don’t have any suspects at this time, but I can’t go into further detail.” The small group of officers surrounding the set murmured various comments, while their captain folded his arms across his uniformed chest. “We’ve called you down here to tell you we have nothing to tell you.” He looked at Ryder with a wry smile. “He could have put out a press release, but no.” Ryder nodded and glanced back at the TV. Houtz was fielding questions in his own, inimitable style. A well made-up blonde with a large microphone addressed the spokesman. “This makes ten murders. Are you saying the police don’t have any leads on the identity of the South Side Cleaner?” The media crowd snickered, and Houtz raised his hands to quiet them. “The Chief does not think labelling this person the ‘South Side Cleaner’ is a good idea. To clarify, the Chicago Police Department is giving full attention to this matter. Effective immediately, the Chief has assigned top agents from an elite Special Task Force to the case.” “Excuse me?” Ryder looked at his captain. “What ‘Special Task Force’?” Captain Grainger took Ryder by the arm and motioned towards his office at the end of the large room. “Let’s talk.” “Fuck me.” Ryder ran a hand through his shaggy mop of brown hair. “Calm down.” Grainger guided him into the office. He closed the door and pointed to a chair. Ryder sat. “This is my case. I’ve made some headway. My team is interviewing local business owners as we speak.” “I was going to tell you about the task force. I’m not taking you off the case. You’ll be working with them.”

NIGHT SHIFT

Jenna Byrnes

6

“With them or for them?” Ryder glanced through the large office window overlooking the bullpen and spotted three men in suits entering the station. The last two he’d never seen, but even though they’d never actually met, he recognised the large, black man in front. Trevor Stone. “No. Please don’t tell me that’s the task force.” Grainger followed his gaze. “Trevor Stone, the one in front, is the only guy I know. The other two he brought with him.” “Fuck me twice,” Ryder muttered. With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Grainger stepped to his door and called out, “Stone, in here.” The detective nodded and headed in their direction. “He’s been on the Vice Squad for quite a few years,” Grainger told Ryder. “He’s gotten several commendations. I’m not surprised the chief assigned him to this task force.” “Oh, hell no.” Ryder wasn’t surprised, either, but he wasn’t happy. Stone looked like a big shot with testosterone and attitude to spare. There was no doubt who’d be running the case, now. The man stepped into Grainger’s office, henchmen on his heels. “Captain.” Grainger extended a hand, and they shook. “Good to see you, Stone. We’re happy to get your help here in homicide.” Happy. Right. Ryder watched the exchange with interest. Homicide and Vice cops only worked together when they were forced to, and it was never what could be described as ‘happy’. He continued to study the two men. The captain stood six foot two but didn’t tower over Stone. The darker skinned man wasn’t as wide but looked buff and muscular in his crisp, stylish suit. Stone’s closely cropped hair and chiselled cheek bones added to his cool façade. There was something else Ryder couldn’t quite put his finger on. When it hit him, the idea sank in his stomach like a rock. The man’s hot. Ryder’s cock twitched, confirming the thought he tried to ignore. His already snug jeans grew tighter. He swallowed nervously. What the fuck? It was no secret he liked men, but his physical reaction to this guy surprised even him. “I’d like to get a look at whatever you have on the case,” Stone told Grainger. “Do you have someplace we can work?”

NIGHT SHIFT

Jenna Byrnes

7

Grainger pointed at the nearest wall. “Use the conference room next door. I’m having all the files delivered there now. Detective Ryder will bring you up to speed.” “Fine.” Stone gazed coolly at Ryder. “Shall we get started?” Ryder stood, mustering as much composure as possible. From here on out, he’d be known as the cop who couldn’t solve the South Side Cleaner case so the chief had to send in reinforcements. Shit. “This way.” He prayed his erection had deflated, pissed he had one in the first place. He felt the gazes on him of the other officers in the bullpen as he led the way to the war room. Centred in the space was a large conference table topped with a stack of folders. My files. It’s all about solving the case, he reminded himself. It shouldn’t matter who did it. The damned murderer needed to be stopped. Ryder ran his fingertips along the top file folder. But it does matter. Every cop knew how much it mattered. “This will do fine.” Stone circled the room, examining the large whiteboard and the bulletin board suitable for pictures and clippings. He paused next to the table. “Ryder, is it? This is Detective Moss.” He motioned towards the shorter of the two men, a redhead with thick, black-framed glasses. “That’s Pickett,” Stone added, nodding towards the taller, blond beanpole. Ryder acknowledged each of them before facing Stone. “Anything you want to know, just ask. I’ve been working this case for two month. I’m familiar with the details.” “Sounds like it’s time we brought in a fresh perspective.” Stone gazed at him. His eyes shone like glassy marbles, his lips parted in a slight pucker. Ryder thought he could kiss the man or, just as easily, punch him in the nose. He wasn’t sure which would be more satisfying. “Do you want me to brief you or not? ‘Cause I’ve got a doughnut in the break room with my name on it. I’d like to get to it.” “Go. Enjoy your doughnut. We’ll read through the files and see if we can decipher what’s what.” Stone peeled off his suit jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. It took most of Ryder’s self-control not to continue the exchange of barbs. He knew it wouldn’t be smart to alienate the man who controlled whether he’d remain on the case. The rest of his restraint was swallowed up trying not to ogle Stone’s ass before the man took a seat and settled in.

NIGHT SHIFT

Jenna Byrnes

8

“Call if you need me.” Ryder left the room, got a cup of coffee and walked around the building like he had someplace to go. Eventually, he wandered back to the bullpen and slipped into the chair behind his desk. He flipped through the remaining papers on it to see what was left now the Cleaner files were gone. A bunch of insignificant odds and ends. He’d worked on nothing but those murders recently, slowly piecing together the scant clues left by the serial killer. Sorting through the miscellaneous paperwork killed most of the afternoon, and it was almost quitting time when Stone stepped out of the war room. “Ryder. Got a second?” Ryder looked at his watch and stood. “I can give you two.” He strolled past Stone and took a chair next to Pickett, who was still surrounded by stacks of case files. Stone closed the door and faced the three men. To Ryder, he said, “I’ve gotten the pertinent details, and I have a couple of questions. It looks like you’ve confined your men to canvassing roughly a twelve-block area. Don’t you think it’d be wise to spread out a bit?” What a stupid, fucking question. Ryder nodded his head thoughtfully. “I’ve got a team of two plus myself. How far out do you suggest we go?” Irritation flashed in Stone’s dark eyes. He tapped his neatly manicured nails on the table. “I think you’re limiting your possibilities by focussing on such a small area. Take the evidence you have and question people further out.” “Good idea,” Ryder said, as if it were something new. “So I send my team out in one direction and tell them not to stop until they reach Deerfield? We might never see them again.” Stone’s face hardened. “You don’t have to be quite so literal about it. Just expand your fucking target zone. Unless you and your team need a break, in which case I can speak with the captain about removing you from this case all together.” Ryder waved a hand. “Consider the zone expanded. Anything else?” The other man hesitated a moment then seemed to compose himself and glanced at a file on the table. “You have a personal informant by the name of Danny Burns. He lives within the twelve block radius, I understand.” “Yes, he does.” “Have you sent him out there at night? He might be able to talk to some people who aren’t too interested in speaking with us.”

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9

“You think?” Ryder couldn’t resist. Stone was obviously trying hard to come off as knowledgeable. Maybe too hard? The man’s face was turning a burgundy shade of red and looked as if his head might explode. Before anything bad happened, Ryder thought he should answer the question. “Danny’s done a lot of work for us during the day. I’ve hesitated to send him out at night, given the climate of the streets. Pretty dangerous for a long-haired kid who looks like he could be a dealer.” “Yeah, well, effective immediately, everyone in this room is on night shift. That includes your snitch, who’s going to start pulling his weight or get his ass thrown in the slammer.” “Night shift?” Ryder repeated sceptically. “Look, I’ve put in my share of nights, and I’ll continue to do so. But it’s next to goddamned impossible to get anything bureaucratic done at night or to speak with managers or people in positions of authority. We need a presence during the day to get things taken care of.” “Your ‘team’ can stay on days and do whatever jobs you assign them to. You, me and my team are going to hit the streets, tonight and every night, until we find the son-of-a-bitch who’s muddying Chicago’s South Side.” Ryder shoved his chair back and stood. “Christ, save it for the press conference. I can see you already in your five-hundred-dollar suits, standing up there next to Houtz. You’ll be the chief’s new golden boy.” Stone moved around the table and faced him. “Who are you calling boy, boy? If you have problems working with a black man, let’s take it to the captain, now. I’ve come too far in this department to put up with taking shit from anybody.” Surprise, then embarrassment, raced through Ryder. “Hey, look, that’s not what I meant. I was talking about your pricey wardrobe and that metro-sexual thing you’ve got going on with manicured nails and shit. I was not taking about the colour of your skin.” The man stared at him, not responding. Ryder felt the need to keep talking and rambled on. “I mean, because, hey—if anyone understands discrimination, it’s me. You know I’m gay, right?” Somebody shut me up. “Not that it matters or anything. People don’t give me static, and I don’t give them any crap. I just do my job.”

NIGHT SHIFT

Jenna Byrnes

10

He ran out of air, paused to take a breath and this time kept his mouth closed. Stone’s eyes narrowed. He closed the top file on the table and addressed his next words to Pickett. “Everyone shove off, get something to eat and maybe catch a nap. Be back here at ten ready to hit the streets. Dress down, the scruffier the better.” He turned, tossing one last disparaging glance at Ryder. “You won’t even need to change.” He walked out. Ryder looked over his jeans and polo shirt, normal workday attire for routine shifts. He chuckled, relieved he hadn’t made an irreparable gaffe. “See you at ten,” he called after Stone. He looked at Pickett and Moss, who’d sat with bland expressions throughout the last few minutes. “Um, yeah.” Ryder walked out. He straightened his desk, logged out and walked to the parking lot. As he dug in his pocket for the keys to his old, black Jeep, a large, silver SUV pulled alongside him. Looking at the sleek lines of the shiny Lincoln Navigator, Ryder knew immediately who it belonged to. When the tinted passenger window lowered and he saw Stone’s face, his guess was confirmed. “Nice ride.” “I thought you and I should talk. Want to grab a bite and clear the air?” You’re freaking kidding, right? He couldn’t think of a worse idea. Stone’s aftershave smelled like sex-on-a-stick and wafted from the Navigator. Ryder didn’t want to like the man, but the thought of jumping his bones wouldn’t go away. “We don’t need to talk. I’ll cooperate. It’s a little unnerving when someone comes in and takes over my case, but that’s something I’ll have to deal with. The main thing is catching the psycho, right?” Stone’s expression didn’t change. “Is there somewhere you need to be?” Christ, give me a break! Ryder shifted uncomfortably. “No, but—” “Get in.” Stone turned and looked straight ahead. With a sigh, Ryder shoved his keys back into his pocket and climbed into the Navigator. “This really isn’t necessary.” The other man continued to look out the front window. “Seatbelt.” “Fuck me,” Ryder muttered and fastened the clasp around his waist. Stone snorted as he pulled from the car park. Ryder glanced at him curiously, but the detective just drove. “Where are we going?”

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“My place is nearby. I thought it’d be easier to talk there than in some restaurant.” “Your place?” Holy hell! Somehow, thrust into the privacy of the man’s home, he had to remain focussed and professional. He wouldn’t have his Jeep if he wanted to escape, so he needed to play it cool. Heat flushed his cheeks and neck, making it difficult already. Stone pulled into a carport next to a nice condo building. He parked and got out, tossing his keys into the air and catching them. Ryder followed, trying not to appear too impressed. His apartment was nothing compared to this place, but high rise living wasn’t his style. If he were going to purchase something, it’d be a house with a yard where he could get his hands dirty. “Nice place,” he commented as they climbed a flight of steps to the front door. “I like it.” Stone unlocked the deadbolt and walked in, apparently still expecting Ryder to follow. He slipped out of his jacket and folded it over the back of a deep blue, leather sofa. Ryder entered, glancing around the stylish, almost formal living room. A collection of framed photos lined a small table by the wall. Ryder spotted one of Stone with his arm around a smiling, pretty woman with long, black hair. “You’re married?” He exhaled a sigh of relief. At least he wouldn’t have to be alone with the man. “Married?” Stone walked towards him, rolling up his shirt sleeves. His gaze followed Ryder’s to the photos on the table. “Oh, that’s my little sister, Renee. The day she graduated from Yale.” He smiled, showing his pearly white teeth for the first time. Don’t smile like that. Shit! Ryder’s cock twitched, and he moved away quickly, as if he were interested in the rest of the house. “So, you live here alone?” “Yep, just me.” Stone walked past him into the kitchen and returned with two beers. “I know we’re back on shift in a few hours, but I figure one won’t hurt.” He handed a bottle over and twisted off the cap on his. He took a long pull and sighed. “That tastes good. Been one long, fucking day.” Ryder smiled and nursed his beer. “It’s about to get longer, thanks to the new boss who put us on the night shift.” “Bastard.” Stone’s eyes sparkled as he played along. “We’ll show him. Let’s not go back.”

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“What, and leave Pickett and Moss sitting in the war room like androids with no programming? I swear, their expressions never changed once during that little ‘misunderstanding’ we had.” Stone chuckled. “You have a point. Neither of them will win congeniality awards. But they’re damned good cops. The chief recommended them for my team.” “That’s good to know. Too bad you didn’t get to choose the rest of your crew.” Stone took a step towards him. “Who says I didn’t?” Smiling uncomfortably, Ryder stepped back. “I, uh, sort of came with the case.” The taller man pressed forward until their faces were mere inches apart. Stone licked his lips. “Which doesn’t mean I didn’t choose you.”

NIGHT SHIFT

Jenna Byrnes

13

Chapter Two

Ryder swallowed hard. Before he could speak, Stone stepped back and smiled. “Do you like linguine and clam sauce? It’s homemade. I just need to boil the pasta.” Ryder blinked, trying to keep up with the sudden shift. “Linguine is fine. Whatever.” He watched Stone walk into the kitchen, wash his hands and begin preparing the meal. Ryder took his beer and sat on a stool at the counter near him. “You cook. What else might surprise me about you?” He glanced around the neat, organised area. “Did you decorate this place?” “Oh, yeah. ‘Course, that shouldn’t be much of a shock. Aren’t all gay men supposed to be good decorators?” Bottle to his lips, Ryder choked and sputtered beer. He wiped the back of his hand across his face, silently cursing himself for his clumsiness. Stone smiled. “What? You didn’t know I was gay?” Ryder gazed at him levelly. “Nope.” He tried to contain his burgeoning excitement, wondering what this new development might mean for him. When Stone tugged off his necktie and unfastened two buttons at his neck, Ryder’s cock rose to full attention. Fortunately, the counter hid his condition. “You know,” Stone folded his tie and set it aside. “I’m not sure you and I got off on the right foot.” “I probably could have been more cooperative,” Ryder agreed. “And I could have been less of a dick. I was pretty jazzed when they picked me to head the task force. Today was my first taste of it. Guess I needed to waltz in and show everyone who was in charge.” “Understandable.” Ryder shrugged. “I’d have been excited, too. How long have you been on the force?” “Nine years. How about you?” “This year makes ten for me.” “Congratulations.” Stone grinned at him. “We seem to have a lot in common.”

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“Maybe.” Not so sure about that. “I’ve seen you over there in Vice. Hear you’re a real gogetter. I’m more the laid-back type. I understand why they brought you in above me.” “Not above you, exactly. I’d like to think we’re working together.” “If you say so.” Ryder smiled. He knew the truth, but there was no point in pushing it. Stone finished cooking and set two plates in front of them. He took a seat and knocked his knee against Ryder’s. “Bon appétit.” “Right.” Ryder picked up his fork and took a bite. “Good.” Stone waved a hand. “Enjoy.” He tucked in enthusiastically. Ryder wondered how the other man stayed in such great shape. He must work out a lot. Picturing that in his mind’s eye didn’t help the erection threatening to bulge out of his jeans. He tried to focus on the food, which tasted fabulous. When his plate was empty, he pushed it back from the edge of the table. “Can’t remember the last time I had such a great meal.” “Thanks. It was nothing.” Stone took both plates and placed them in the sink. He turned around, and Ryder noticed a new expression on his face. Lust. The man was obviously hungry for more than pasta. “I’m thinking about dessert,” Stone said. Ryder nervously drained his beer. “I couldn’t eat another bite.” “You sure about that?” Stone unfastened the button on his trousers and lowered the zipper. Ryder’s heart raced. “This feels like a very bad idea.” Or does it? There was something about Stone that made this feel right. Stone’s hand slipped down the front of his slacks and squeezed the bulge there. “Feels pretty good to me.” He removed his cock from his pants and squeezed it again. Even half erect, it was an impressive length. Ryder groaned. “Not fair.” The lure of the man, of his confidence, of his thick, smooth organ was more than Ryder could resist. He dropped to his knees, facing the gorgeous staff, and blew on it. Stone’s erection thickened and lengthened even more. He thrust his hips forward and murmured in a breathy voice, “Never promised to play fair. I like it dirty, nasty as it can get. So, how about you? Want to play dirty with me?”

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“Fuck, yeah.” Ryder extended his tongue and flicked the tip of the long, chocolatecoloured cock. It tasted as good as it looked, and he sighed with pleasure as he sucked it into his mouth. “Mmm, I think some fucking might be arranged. But I need just a little bit more attention to this bad boy.” “I think you need a lot more attention.” Ryder clasped Stone’s thighs and turned the man around so his bum could rest against the counter. “Make yourself comfortable.” Stone rested on his elbows and bucked his hips, urging Ryder to continue what he’d started. Ryder sucked the bulbous head back into his mouth and swallowed as much of the length as he could. He’d never imagined himself in this situation, with a man as incredible as Stone, but now he was there, it felt damned good. He slid a hand to Stone’s bulky ball sac and palmed it carefully. “Yeah, take it all,” Stone muttered, hips rocking. “Feels fantastic.” “Mmm hmm.” Ryder was so intoxicated by this muscular stud he didn’t want to stop and chat. How can this seem so perfect? We only just met. “Damn,” Stone gasped. “If you don’t want to swallow my spunk, better back off now. I’m close.” Ryder moaned and nodded his head with approval. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more except perhaps to bury his rod, balls deep, into the man’s sweet, chocolate ass. He focussed on bringing Stone as much pleasure as possible. A few more deep thrusts and a finger grazing Stone’s perineum sent the man over the edge. His body jerked, and he groaned, emptying the load down Ryder’s throat. Ryder groaned in response, sucking and swallowing until his partner collapsed against the counter. He released the cock slowly, savouring every inch as he pulled away. Satisfaction surged through him, and he smiled, very happy he hadn’t gone with his first instinct and said no to Stone’s advances. “That was amazing.” Stone fingered his cock and balls. “Christ, I think you sucked the blood right out of me.” “I could have.” Ryder stood and faced him. “Tasted good enough.” He nipped at Stone’s lower lip, the pouty one which had been tormenting him all afternoon.

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“Mmm.” Stone bounced back, capturing Ryder’s mouth in a soul-wrenching kiss. Their tongues batted one another, seeking dominance, but at that moment, Ryder didn’t care. He wanted more intimacy with this amazing man. “Wanna fuck your sweet ass,” he murmured, his lips brushing Stone’s. “Oh, yeah. I want that, too. Let me grab some supplies. Don’t move a muscle.” Stone clutched his trousers and walked from the room. Ryder stared after him, not wanting to let him out of his sight. That he could feel so close to the man so soon left him stunned. When Stone returned, he was completely naked, carrying a couple of towels, several foil packets and a small tube of lubricant. His lightly furred chest was as muscular as Ryder had envisioned it. The whole package, tight abs, flat stomach and everything else he could see was a sight to behold. Ryder’s erection pulsed with the wanting of the man. He grasped Stone’s shoulders and turned him to face the counter. He inhaled as buns of steel came into view. His hands roamed over the tight glutes and squeezed. “Fuck, you’re hot.” Stone flexed his bum cheeks. “Whatever you want to do, I’m game. I have a suggestion if you can’t decide.” Ryder grinned. “I know what I want.” Leaning down, he buried his face between the two firm globes and shook his head, growling with desire. His tongue circled the man’s tight anus and dipped inside. “Um, my thoughts exactly.” Stone pressed his ass back, urging him on. Ryder didn’t require much encouragement. He reamed the puckered hole, working his tongue in and out until the outer ring loosened. When he was in as deeply as possible, he held still and revelled in the erotic position. I could eat this for hours. Only one problem. His cock ached from neglect. Reluctantly, he withdrew his mouth and straightened to reach the supplies. Suddenly realising he had on far too many clothes, he stripped and tossed his things on the nearby stool. Stone glanced over his shoulder. “That’s more like it. Damn, I’m ready to go. You’re driving me insane, babe.” He shoved the silverware and beer bottles to the side and bent over the counter, gripping the edges.

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‘Babe’. I like the sound of that. Ryder ripped open a foil packet and rolled the condom onto his erection. He squeezed some lube into his hand and stroked it over his shaft. The smooth, dark skin of the man before him was tempting. But fucking Stone--or any other cop--came with problems, he reminded himself. The emotional entanglements alone could be hell. He closed his eyes for a moment to clear his head. Worry about that later. “You want to share some of that lube?” Ryder’s eyes popped open, and he realised he’d been standing there, stroking his dick, for too long. “Oh, sorry.” He squirted a generous dollop into his hand and dipped two fingers in it. He worked the slick goop into Stone’s tight hole, stretching it from side to side until the sphincter eased its grip. “Fuck, yes,” Stone moaned. “I’m ready. Do it now.” “Kinda bossy.” Ryder smiled and nudged the tip of his dick to the anus. The head slipped in with ease, and he pressed forward. “You know it.” Stone ground his ass backwards until their bodies met. “Bossy in the war room. Even bossier in the bedroom.” Ryder’s balls slapped against his partner’s flesh. He paused to savour the warmth that enveloped him like a glove. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Stone groaned. “Do something!” Ryder chuckled. He leant over to speak directly into Stone’s ear. “When you’re on top, you can call the shots. Just now, I believe you’re at my mercy.” “I’m begging for mercy, that’s for damn sure.” Stone turned his face up for a kiss. The lips, mouth and tongue tasted so delicious, Ryder knew they’d definitely need to spend more face-to-face time so he could get his fill. “Mmm,” he groaned before nipping Stone’s lower lip once more. “Gonna fuck you senseless. Then I’m gonna spend about an hour sucking this face.” “Bring it on, big boy.” Stone faced the counter and tightened his grip. Ryder straightened up and locked his knees for better purchase. He grasped the man’s smooth hips and ground their bodies together. Slowly, he pulled out until just his cock head was seated.

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Stone gasped, but before he could complain, Ryder slammed back inside him. Stone gasped again, but this time the sound was pure pleasure. Ryder agreed with him. Their coupling felt fantastic as hell. “Oh, yeah!” he whooped, drew back and drove in again and again. “Fuck yes! Fuck yes!” Stone clung to the smooth Formica. He shuddered, his body tense, anus clutching even tighter than before. “That’s it,” Ryder muttered, trying to hold back the floods of cum and emotion which threatened to erupt at the same time. It’s no use. Intense pleasure and satisfaction soared through him as he shattered, emptying his balls into the latex barrier in his lover’s ass. He thrust with each wave, ultimately slowing into a sensual rocking of their bodies. Stone relaxed on the counter, breathing heavily. A thin layer of perspiration covered his finely sculpted body. “Shit.” He shook his head. “You okay?” Ryder pressed his hands against the Formica on either side of Stone and leaned down to kiss the sweat-slicked nape of his lover’s neck. “Better than okay. That was awesome. I made a fucking mess down the front of the cabinets.” Ryder chuckled and continued kissing the lines of his shoulder. “Good. I thought I felt someone besides me exploding just then.” “Oh, yeah. You definitely did. Damn, that was something. Can’t remember the last time I…” Stone didn’t finish his thoughts. Ryder sighed. He doesn’t have to. I feel the same way. Fucking fantastic. He slowly eased his cock out and stood. “Shall we clean up real quick?” Stone turned to face him, lust still shining in his eyes. “You mean clean up the mess in the kitchen? Because we have a few more hours until we have to go back to work. I thought we might share a shower. Then I could wrap myself around you and just relax.” Heart swelling with happiness and gut clenching with desire, Ryder nodded. “My first impression of you was way off. I really do like the way you think.” Stone grinned, grabbing one towel for himself and handing over the second. “Like I said earlier, I’m sorry I came across as such a dick. Thanks for giving me a chance to change your opinion of me.” Ryder took the towel, waggled his eyebrows, and they both laughed.

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**** Ryder rolled over in bed and fumbled for his cell phone on the nightstand. He looked at the time and set the thing back down. 9:30 p.m. Time to get back to work. He gazed at the man snoring softly next to him and smiled. When Stone had walked into the station today, Ryder would never, in a million years, have imagined they’d end up this way. He still wasn’t convinced it was a good idea from a business standpoint, but from a personal one, it had been incredible. “Hey.” He nudged Stone’s shoulder. “Time to wake up.” Stone grumbled into his pillow then opened one eye and looked at him. “I hope you’re waking me up to fuck again. Any other reason is unacceptable.” Ryder chuckled. “I wish. Remember, the old taskmaster said we had to be back at ten. We just have time to get dressed and get going.” “To hell with that bastard,” Stone joked about himself. He crawled on top of Ryder and held his body up with his forearms. “Since we’ve already showered twice in the past couple of hours, we really just have to slip into some clothes and go. I’d say that gives us ten minutes for another quickie. You up for giving or receiving?” He rubbed his nose against Ryder’s. “Aw, shit.” Ryder wasn’t particularly up for either. He’d seen more action that evening than he had in the past month. His body felt the slightly pleasant, slightly sore, used and abused effects. Yet, looking into those dark chocolate eyes did something to him he couldn’t explain. His cock twitched, and he knew he was lost. Again, he was faced with the question of the night, fuck or be fucked. From the other room, he heard his mobile rattle off a tune indicating he had a text message. “No,” he muttered. He’d just gotten his mind wrapped around the idea of a quickie. He slipped out from under Stone, padded out to the kitchen and reached for the phone. “Don’t take it,” Stone called after him. “I know it’s going to be something to kill my buzz.”

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Ryder grinned and worked the buttons with his thumbs. He read the brief message quickly and frowned. “Shit,” he said again, with more meaning. “We have to go.” “What is it?” “Another body. Two blocks from the last one. And it’s only been two days. Our guy’s getting greedy. Let’s hope he’s getting sloppy, too.” He sighed. “Get dressed.” “Yeah.” Stone scratched his head. Ryder climbed into his clothes, nervous energy flowing. They were headed back to the real world and the first opportunity to see what kind of a working relationship they’d have. Stone entered the kitchen wearing jeans and a T-shirt. He slid his hand around the small of Ryder’s back and drew him close for a kiss. “We’ll do this again soon.” He kissed him again then sighed as he pulled away. “Very soon.” “Yeah, okay.” This first hint their evening hadn’t been a one night stand both elated and worried Ryder, so he tried to push it from his mind. “We’d better go. Want to drop me at my car or head straight there?” Stone shook his head and snatched his keys from a table they passed going through the living room. “Let’s get to the scene. You can get your Jeep later.” Outside, he locked the door behind them and pushed a button to unlock his Lincoln. Ryder climbed in and, as they took off, commented, “You saw my Jeep, huh? Not quite as nice as this.” Stone shrugged. “This was a splurge when I finally hit a decent pay grade. My old car was a clunker. Your Jeep looks pretty good.” “I like it.” Ryder nodded, satisfied he didn’t have to defend himself. He could afford something newer, but a vehicle wasn’t where he wanted to invest his money. He glanced sideways at Stone, not sure if he’d figured out what made the man tick. I want to, though. “What?” Stone asked, keeping one eye on the road. Ryder smiled. “Nothing. Just trying to get a handle on you.” Stone grinned. “You had a pretty good grip on my handle earlier.” Ryder scrubbed his hands over his face and shook his head. “You’re a cocky son-of-abitch, aren’t you?” “Just figuring that out?”

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“I assume the sexual innuendo is going to stop when we get back to work?” Stone shrugged. “No promises. I like to live dangerously. Why else would a gay, black man choose to become a cop on Chicago’s South Side?” “That’s no shit.” Ryder chuckled. He glanced out the window. “Do you know where we’re going?” “Yep.” Stone turned at the next stoplight, and they came upon a crowd of people and patrol cars. “Right about here.” “Look at this mess.” Ryder clutched his door handle. “I’ll get the uniforms to—” Stone spoke at the same time. “Ask those uniforms to push the perimeter line back, will you? Give the crime scene investigators a little more space.” He pulled to a stop and shut off his Lincoln. Ryder rolled his eyes at him. “Yes, sir. Wish I’d thought of that.” Stone grinned. “You don’t have to call me ‘sir’ unless we’re in bed and you’re begging me to do something nasty to you. Or, until I make chief.” He flashed his pearly whites and exited the vehicle, heading for the gaggle of cops and civilians. “Chief?” Ryder muttered, following the enigmatic man. He wasn’t surprised Stone had lofty ambitions, but it embarrassed him. His future plans included being the best detective he could until he retired then buying a boat and reeling in fish instead of criminals for the remainder of his days. Time to focus on work. Ryder flashed his badge and pushed through throngs of people until the victim’s body came into view. Another Hispanic male, this one in his early twenties, if that, with shaggy, black hair and multiple tattoos. His face sported a pierced eyebrow, a lip ring and a teardrop tattoo on the cheek just below a fresh bullet wound in his left temple. “Looks like a .357,” he said to no one in particular. “Which narrows the search to most of the Chicago P.D. and twice as many criminals,” Stone commented. “Right.” Ryder sighed. His own weapon was the same calibre as were thousands of others in the city. He blinked, trying to process information, his mind on overload. This had been a night of unexpected twists. He didn’t make a habit of fucking other cops, especially ones who had their sights set on becoming chief.

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“I’ll go push back the perimeter,” he said to Stone and strode over to the cops standing by the string of yellow ‘police line, do not cross’ tape. “Hey, Ryder,” one of the young, uniformed men acknowledged him. “What is this, eleven for the Cleaner, now?” Ryder smiled. “The Chief does not think labelling this perp is a good idea. But, yeah. This makes eleven for the Cleaner.” “Another .357 Mag?” Expelling a breath, Ryder hesitated before answering. Seven of the victims had been killed with a .357 Magnum, but none with the same gun. That was the kind of information he didn’t want out. “We’ll have to see,” he replied vaguely. “The guy’s going to screw up one of these days. And when he does—” “I hope so. Let’s just pray he does it before anyone else gets whacked.” He looked around at the faces of the onlookers, some concerned, some so strung out they were just there for the entertainment value. “Can you shove this line back another block or so? It’s a little too crowded, if you get my drift.” “Sure.” As the officers proceeded to do as instructed, another uniformed man came forward, a petite waif of a girl with bright pink hair in tow. “Ryder! Oh, great. I was hoping to find you. We’ve got a witness who can I.D. the victim. Says she ‘talked’ to him a couple of hours ago.” “Oh, yeah?” Ryder raised his eyebrows and studied the girl. About five-two and ninety pounds after a big meal, she looked fifteen at best. “What’s your name, miss?” She batted her eyes at him, obviously trying to be seductive. “What do you want it to be?” Ryder sighed. Even if he’d liked women, he wouldn’t like fifteen-year olds. Rolling his eyes towards the other cop, he took the girl by the arm and walked her down the sidewalk where they had a modicum of privacy. “Look, sweetheart, your womanly wiles are wasted on this confirmed queer. You look like you should be home playing with your Barbie dolls. If you don’t want me to drop you off at Juvenile Detention, you might think about playing this straight with me.” She screwed up her face. “Didn’t think you liked it straight, Queer Eye.” He scowled at her.

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The girl smiled. “I’m eighteen, and I’ve got the I.D. to prove it. My name’s Persia.” “I’d like to see that card, Persia.” “I don’t have it on me, right now.” Ryder rolled his eyes again. “Yeah, right. I’m sure the card’s as real as that name and hair colour.” She stuck out her tongue at him. “I like it. My friends think it’s great. I’m saving up for beauty school.” He smiled. The kid had a certain energy about her, and he had to give her credit for chutzpah. “So, tell me, Persia. Who’s the vic?” Her face fell as she grew serious. “Everyone called him L’il Roy. I think I heard him go by Garcia, once.” Ryder nodded, pulling out a small notebook and jotting down the information. “You talked to him a couple of hours ago? Can you pinpoint exactly what time?” She shrugged. “It wasn’t quite dark yet. Eight-thirty?” “Did you buy from him? He’s a dealer, right?” “Yeah, but I didn’t--” He looked at her. “Persia.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a nervous expression on her youthful but heavily made-up face. “Okay, I bought a dime bag. But that’s it. I don’t do much, just a little weed when I have the cash.” “So L’il Roy sold weed. Anything else?” “Everything else,” she nodded emphatically. “He was a regular pharmacy. Had an old lady with a bunch of health problems, and he was always out here selling her meds.” “Shit,” Ryder grumbled, continually amazed at the levels some people sank to. “That must have helped her condition.” Persia shrugged. “Never know. I heard he was buying her food with the money. Maybe she needed to eat worse than she needed to lower her blood pressure.” “Good point.” Ryder made a note to check on Roy Garcia’s mother to make sure she had food and the proper meds. “Hey.” Stone approached them from the side.

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Ryder glanced up and saw his informant, Danny Burns, standing unhappily next to Stone. “Hi, Danny.” Danny’s mouth curled into a frown. “Hey. Ryder, this guy’s a dick. I told him what I know about L’il Roy, but he thinks I should have more.” He cast an unfriendly glance at Stone. “I don’t answer to him.” Ryder smiled at Stone and let it carry over to Danny. “Yeah, well, I do. Come on, let’s walk.” He tossed Stone an ‘I’ve got it from here’ look and asked Danny, “You know Persia?” The kid with long, black hair looked at the girl, shyly. “I’ve seen you around.” “Me, too,” she replied with a small smile. “She’s a customer of L’il Roy’s. Was,” Ryder rephrased by way of introduction. “I suppose you’ve seen Roy around, too.” “Everyone knew Roy.” Danny watched Persia as the three of them walked down the sidewalk. Ryder shook his head. “I wish ‘everyone’ was a little more concerned about the danger out here. Can’t anyone stay home and give us a chance to figure this thing out?” Persia crossed her arms across her chest. “You keep assuming other people live their lives the way you do. When you go home at night, there’s probably food in the fridge, right? Some folks don’t have a home to go to.” “Yeah,” Danny piped up, agreeing. “If everyone holed up in their places at night, waiting for the cops to catch the Cleaner, we all might starve to death.” Ryder looked at each of them, sarcastically. “More likely you’d go through withdrawal from not getting your nightly fix.” Both kids started to object, but Ryder continued. “Don’t get me started on street people. Look, I’m one of their biggest advocates on the force. I know life and circumstances can suck. But I don’t have a lot of patience with people who prey on the vulnerabilities of others. Drug dealers are scum. People who kill them are lower than scum. I’m just trying to work my way up the chain.” Danny nodded. “He’s right,” he told Persia. “Ryder’s one of the good guys. I wouldn’t work for him if I didn’t think so.” Ryder winked at Persia. “And, if he didn’t have a bust he’s trying to keep off his record.”

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“That, too,” Danny admitted, yawning. “So, you need anything from me? I delivered pizzas all day. I’m beat.” Ryder shook his head. Persia looked up at Danny. “Who do you work for?” “Papa Maroni’s.” Her face lit up. “I love their pizza!” “I got one in the car. Plenty to share.” Her eyes twinkled. “You have a car?” “It’s an old VW bus. Runs rough, but it gets the pizzas delivered.” Ryder cleared his throat. “Leaving a trail of white, oil smoke wherever it goes.” Danny shrugged. “Yeah, well, we can’t all drive silver bullets.” He glanced down the block at Stone’s SUV. Ryder followed his gaze. The shiny Lincoln was definitely out of place. He scanned the crowd for the car’s owner and realised, even dressed in jeans, Stone was out of his element here. “Ain’t that the truth? Okay, you two, go enjoy your pizza.” To Danny, he added, “I assume you’ll see the young lady home safely?” Persia tossed him an accusing glance. “There you go, assuming again. Like I have a home.” She took Danny’s arm, and they walked off. Ryder shook his head and added ‘Persia – home?’ to his list of things to follow up on.

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Chapter Three

Ryder’s face mashed into the carpet, and he gasped for breath. He was bent over a low coffee table, his hands bound tightly, almost painfully, behind his back. The weight on him was so intense he could barely move. “Fuck you!” he muttered, wishing he could cry out. But he could scarcely force a whisper. “Doing the best I can, baby.” Stone held the cuffs circling Ryder’s wrists, using them like a saddle horn. Sandwiched between his lover and the cold, hard wood, Ryder raised his ass as much as possible to allow better positioning for the man kneeling behind him. He groaned with a mix of pleasure and pain. “Aw, shit. The edges of this table are cutting off my circulation.” Stone grunted, pounding his cock into Ryder’s pulsing anus. He muttered teasingly, “Quit whining just ‘cause I can’t reach your pecker from here. I’ll get to you soon enough. First, you’re going to get your fill of me.” “I’ll never have my fill of you,” Ryder mumbled into the carpet. They’d been fucking almost daily for two weeks, yet he couldn’t get enough. Half their time was spent on the night shift, noses to the grindstone, tracking the vicious killer who’d claimed two more victims since L’il Roy Garcia. The rest of Ryder’s time was spent in Stone’s bed, on his kitchen counter or over the back of his sofa. Now, in a new twist, he was slung over the coffee table in his own apartment, an idea which had seemed better in theory. “Take it all, naughty boy.” Stone gripped the cuffs and ground his groin into Ryder’s backside. He pounded deep, repeating the mantra in a sexual haze. “Yeah, take it.” Ryder sighed with pleasure. He’d probably have rug burns on his face, but what the hell. Stone was an adventurous lover and especially enjoyed acting out cop fantasies. Ryder was all for that. He’d take sex any way he could get it with this man who’d become wrapped around his heart. Pushing back the mushy feelings, he spouted, “Come on, you filthy, prick cop. Shoot your load and get the hell off me.”

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“You’ll pay for that.” Stone thrust hard and deep. “I’ll have to come back to the slammer and visit you again. Next time, I’ll move you from a private cell right out into the holding space where everyone can watch me sodomize you. You’d probably get off on that, wouldn’t you?” “Fuck you, pig,” Ryder grunted, excitement welling inside him. Even with his cock unattended, he was aroused, and Stone’s playacting made him harder than ever. “You just better not ever turn me loose. I’ll fucking come all over your face.” “Aw, god…” Stone gasped and shuddered. Ryder felt heat pulse into the rubber in his ass. He sighed as Stone rode out his climax then collapsed onto Ryder’s back. “Good. Fucking good,” Stone murmured. “Share the love, man.” Ryder squirmed but couldn’t go anywhere. Stone chuckled. “Impatient boy. All right.” He rose and eased his cock from Ryder’s bum. He quickly disposed of the used condom and found the keys to the cuffs. After unlocking the bracelets, he dropped to a bare spot on the carpet and lay flat on his back. “You threatened something might happen if I turned you loose?” Ryder smiled. He moved slowly, allowing his circulation time to return to normal, and rubbed his wrists. When he thought he could get up, he made it to his feet and stood over Stone. “This is what you get, copper.” He stroked his swollen shaft, milking a drop of precum from his slit. Stone licked his lips. “Oh, yeah. I want that. Shoot for me, baby. Aim some at my mouth.” Ryder rubbed a thumb over his throbbing tip and shuddered at the exquisite pleasure. His balls churned, release imminent. It promised to be a messy, heart-stopping, amazing climax. “Fuck, yeah. Open up, man. I’m coming.” Stone’s mouth gaped, and his eyes shone with pleasure as a ribbon of white cum hit his face. Pistoning his dick back and forth, Ryder sent one stream down his lover’s throat. The next streaked across Stone’s cheek. Ryder shifted slightly so the third, perfectly placed shot coated a puckered nipple on the man’s sweat-slicked chest. He closed his eyes, savouring the sensations rocketing through him, and coaxed the last dribbles from his pulsing shaft.

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“Oh, my god.” Stone groaned. Suddenly, he was sitting, licking Ryder’s hand and penis clean. Ryder opened his eyes and smiled down at the sexy stud. “Damn, that was hot.” He used his clean hand to rub the side of his face. “The carpet and coffee table thing left a little to be desired…” “Pussy,” Stone teased, still avidly licking and cleaning. “I thought it was great.” Ryder chuckled. “Next time, we’ll grind your face into the floor.” “Gladly.” Stone gripped Ryder’s thighs and sucked his semi-flaccid cock into his mouth. “Umm.” Ryder widened his stance and planted his feet firmly. The sensations were too good to ignore, but it was getting late. He stepped backwards and extended a hand, pulling Stone to his feet. “You know, we’ve fucked each other’s brains out every chance we’ve gotten the past couple of weeks, but I still have no idea where this thing is headed.” Stone groaned. “Why does it have to be ‘headed’ anywhere? Can’t we just have fun for a while?” “Until what? It’s not fun any more? Or it’s not convenient any more? When we solve this case, you’ll go back to Vice and I’ll stay in Homicide—” Stone shook his head. “I can’t predict what’s going to happen.” “I’m just saying there’s no rule against cops dating each other as long as they’re in different departments.” Stone reached for his clothes. “That regulation was designed with male and female officers in mind. Can you imagine the crap two openly gay cops dating would get?” Ryder shrugged. “Everyone knows I’m gay. No one gives me any shit.” “Yeah, well, we have different agendas, remember?” Stone closed his mouth quickly. A look of pain crossed his face, as if he regretted the comment and wished he could take it back. “Ah, gotcha.” Ryder waved a hand as he passed by. “Enough said. I’m hitting the sack, going to try and get some shut eye before the night shift begins. You’re welcome to stay or go.” “I’ve got a few things to take care of.” Stone followed him. “Come here. Give me a kiss before I leave.”

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“I’m beat.” Ryder continued into his bedroom. “I’ll see you tonight.” “Cullen,” Stone said in an authoritative tone of voice. Ryder paused and turned around. “Yes, Trevor?” It was the perfect ‘I love you’ moment, but he knew it’d never happen. Well, he could dream. Stone raised an eyebrow. “No kiss?” “Fuck you.” Ryder walked back to him, offering a quick buss. “Don’t call me Cullen. Goodbye. I’ll see you tonight.” Stone copped a quick ass-cheek squeeze and smiled. “See you tonight, baby.”

**** Ryder sat in his Jeep, reading the file from the last homicide. The thirteenth victim, a young, black woman, was the sister of a known pusher, but the girl had no record herself. A tap on his window made him jump, and he reflexively reached for his sidearm. “Hey, it’s me!” A pink powder-puff head of hair filled his vision. Ryder exhaled and released the grip on his Magnum. He rolled down his window. “Persia, what the fuck?” “Jumpy tonight.” He frowned. “Am I the only one who realises it’s dangerous out here? Where’s Danny?” She smiled. “Danny’s working. He’s great, by the way. Treats me real nice.” “Glad to hear it. Tell him I need whatever he can find out about Marianne Walker and why someone would knock her off when it’s her brother who’s the dealer.” Persia nodded. “I’ll have him call you if he hears anything.” Ryder handed her one of his cards. “You take my number, too. I don’t like to see you out here walking around at night. Whoever killed the Walker girl doesn’t seem to have a problem doing chicks. Remember that, will you, please?” She grinned. “Imagine that. A guy who likes to do chicks.” “Little shit. Go home.” He pushed the button on his armrest, and the window rose between them.

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She gave an exaggerated shrug, and he caught her meaning. What home? He happened to know she’d been staying with Danny for the past two weeks, though. She was off the streets, which was something. His mobile rang before he’d returned to the stationhouse. The number was unfamiliar. “Ryder,” he answered. “Hey, boss,” Danny greeted him with his usual ebullience. “I met someone who knew that Walker chick’s brother.” “That was fast. What’d you find out?” “Apparently, Walker was playing it cool due to all the hits lately. He used his sister as a mule to run drugs. She was a nursing student over at the community college.” “A nursing student? Why would she haul that shit for him?” “It’s all about the money, my friend. I keep trying to tell you, a lot of these dealers are supporting their families. Mama has a houseful of kids, daddy is nowhere to be seen. Someone has to pay the bills.” “A nursing student. Son-of-a-bitch.” “That’s all I got, for now. I have one more delivery, then I’m done for the night.” “Take Persia something to eat and tell her to stay off the streets at night, will ya?” Danny chuckled. “Like she listens to me. I’ll tell her.” “Right.” Ryder disconnected the call and shook his head again. People never ceased to amaze him. At the station, he flipped through a stack of messages on his desk and listened to a few voicemails. He got a cup of coffee, strolled into the war room and stared at the pictures of the victims on the bulletin board. The photos of L’il Roy Garcia and Marianne Walker particularly haunted him. Walker because she seemed so innocent and Garcia… He wasn’t sure what tormented him about Garcia. There was something pathetic about the boy who’d tattooed and pierced himself almost beyond recognition. A certain neediness or vulnerability. Am I needy? The question wallowed around in his mind. Certainly not a visible neediness like L’il Roy’s, but deep inside, Ryder felt longings. The desire to be accepted, loved for who he was, and the anxious, ever-present stirrings to feel the elusive ‘happiness’ everyone talked about. Ryder suspected he could relate to Roy Garcia on those levels.

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“What’s up?” A voice from behind him startled Ryder back to reality. He turned and saw Moss polishing off a bagel and licking his fingers. “Not much. Trying to get a handle on these victims, figure out what made them tick.” “Money. What else? Everything boils down to the green stuff.” Moss took a seat at the table and kicked his feet up on an adjacent chair. “Yeah, that’s what someone else told me tonight. Personally, I think there’s more to it. The Cleaner must sense—” “What’s with this ‘Cleaner’ bullshit? You know that’s not the official theory, right? Stone doesn’t believe there’s someone out there trying to save the good people of Chicago from villainous drug pushers.” “Oh, yeah?” Ryder wondered how this halfwit could claim to know anything Stone believed. “What is the official position?” “Money and drugs make the world go around. The killer robs his victims and whacks them so they can’t I.D. him. He now has more shit to sell, makes more money, and when it’s gone, he does it all over again.” “Pretty fucking simplistic.” Ryder studied the other cop’s face. Moss shrugged. “No one ever claimed police work was rocket science. Someone breaks the law, we bust his chops. It’s that simple. Why try to make it tougher?” Ryder shook his head. In his experience, there was usually more to it than that. People lived their lives in shades of grey, not black or white. “You know, I—” Moss’ mobile rang, and he looked at it. “Excuse me.” He answered the call, “Yes. All right.” He hung up. A commotion from the bullpen drew Ryder’s attention. He was surprised to see Stone, Pickett and at least four uniformed officers escorting in a large, unkempt white man with curly hair and a blank facial expression. “What the fuck?” “Ah,” Moss nodded, leading the way out to the bullpen. “What’s going on?” Ryder asked as soon as he could catch Stone’s eye. “Meet Reuben Nubbs,” Stone announced as if he were addressing a press conference. “We’ve uncovered several pieces of evidence which led us to arrest Mr. Nubbs as a suspect in the South Side Murder investigation.” “A person of interest?” Ryder grasped for understanding. He’d never heard of the guy.

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Stone leant forward and whispered in his ear. “He’s the Cleaner. He’s guilty as fuck. We got him!” “What?” Stone addressed the men who each held one of Nubbs’ arms. “Take him to interrogation room number three. We’ll be right there.” They nodded, and Ryder watched as they led the man away. He turned to Stone. “What evidence?” Stone shook his head. “I’ll have to fill you in later. It’s something Moss and Pickett have been working on. All you need to focus on now is we got him!” Ryder glanced quickly at Moss, who continued to maintain his expressionless appearance. “Did you know this was going down now?” The man didn’t answer, and suddenly Ryder knew Moss’ call had been alerting him to the impending arrival. “Fuck,” he muttered, his mind racing. Stone grinned and leant in to whisper again. “Later, big guy. We’ve got some major celebrating to do. But now, I need to quiz this character.” “I want to be there,” Ryder insisted. “Out of the question. He’s skittish enough as it is. You can watch through the observation window.” Ryder followed the excited detective and took his stance outside the window with the other officers as the interrogation began. Nubbs sat alone, his handcuffs secured to a bolt in the centre of the table. “Comfortable?” Stone asked. “I’m thirsty. Can I have a pop?” Nubbs’ voice was child-like. “I need to ask you a few things, first. Where were you two nights ago?” “Two nights ago?” His expression was as blank as Moss’ had been earlier. Stone spoke slowly. “It was a Wednesday.” “Wednesday night is Law and Order. Sometimes I watch Cops, but they’re usually reruns. Can I have a pop?” “You like police shows, huh, Reuben? Why is that? Do you like to see crime up close?”

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Nubbs laughed, exposing crooked, yellow teeth. “I like to see them dumbasses try to run. The cop with the video camera is always huffing and puffing after them. Did you say I could have a pop?” Stone rolled his eyes. “Does the name Marianne Walker mean anything to you? How about Roy Garcia?” The wide man shook his head. Ryder studied his face for any slight flickers but spotted nothing. He removed his mobile from his pocket and dialled Stone’s number. Stone scowled at his ringing phone but answered it after checking the ID screen. “Yes?” “I don’t think this is our guy,” Ryder told him. “I’m not sure he’s smart enough to pull off all these crimes successfully.” Stone visibly gritted his teeth. “He wasn’t exactly successful.” Ryder paced outside the window. “There were thirteen victims. Shall we ask their families who’s done better—the killer or us?” “Fuck it.” Stone started to cut off the call. “Hey!” Ryder shouted. “Ask him what kind of pop he wants. Then ask what tattoo L’il Roy Garcia had on his face. Just out of the blue. Might trip him up.” Stone clicked off his phone and pocketed it. He looked at Nubbs. “What kind of soda do you want?” “Lemon-lime,” the man smiled. “It’s my favourite.” Stone nodded. “So tell me, what was the tattoo on L’il Roy Garcia’s face?” “Huh?” Nubbs obviously had no idea. Ryder was positive the man didn’t know anything. Whoever shot Garcia must have seen the tattoo when he fired the gun. “Fuck me.” He pushed away from the window. “Where are you going?” the uniformed officer next to him asked. “To get Nubbs a pop.” The man was a simpleton. He might not be guiltless, but he was innocent of the crimes Stone had arrested him for.

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Chapter Four

Two days later, Ryder squeezed the TV remote in his hand until his fingers turned white. Somehow, he hoped gripping the control tightly might change the image he saw on the screen. Bernard Houtz, spokesperson for the C.P.D. chief, and Trevor Stone, head of the task force assigned to the South Side Murder investigation, were giving a mid-morning press conference, announcing they’d solved the case. Ryder pressed the mute button off and on, wanting to hear yet not wanting to. Houtz read from a prepared statement while Stone stood beaming next to him. “Ruben Nubbs…responsible for the string of homicides…brilliant detective work on the part of Detectives Stone, Moss, Pickett and their team of investigators…” Ryder clicked the off button and tossed the remote on the sofa. He trudged into the kitchen and pulled a bottle from the fridge, downing half the beer before he took another step. When he heard his front door open and close quietly, he peered around the corner, wondering if he needed his firearm. Stone walked through the room, a bottle of champagne in his hands. “Hey, you. Streets of Chicago feeling safer already? You left the door unlocked.” Ryder blinked. “What the fuck are you doing here? I just saw you on TV.” Stone grinned. “Pre-recorded. That press conference was an hour ago.” He glanced at Ryder’s beer. “Start the celebration without me?” Ryder tossed back the rest of the brew. “Not sure we have anything to celebrate.” “Aw, fuck. Not that again. Nubbs is guilty, babe. We have witnesses who put him in the neighbourhood nine of the thirteen times and a weapons dealer who supplied him with most of the different guns. A stash of drugs in his mother’s house, plus we have his fingerprints. We might not get convictions on all thirteen counts, but we’re solid on over half.” “Circumstantial evidence,” Ryder shot right back. They’d had this conversation a dozen times since Nubbs was arrested. Ryder knew they needed something more concrete. Stone was certain they had enough. “Fingerprints are not circumstantial,” Stone insisted.

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Ryder watched him unwrap the foil on the champagne and twist free the wire. “Fuck the fingerprints. They’re fuzzy and something’s not right with them. Besides, I keep telling you. Nubbs isn’t the mastermind type. Is he weird? You bet your ass he is. But he’s not a certifiable psycho, the type of person who could plan and carry out a string of murders like this.” The cork popped, and champagne bubbled from the bottle. Stone put it to his lips and drank what spilled out. When the fizz calmed, he wiped his chin and smiled at Ryder. “We’ll just have to agree to disagree on this one, lover. I’ve checked this thing to hell and back. Nubbs is guilty, I know he is. Besides, ultimately, it’ll be up to the courts to decide. For now, I want to drink, and I want to fuck. We have the rest of the day and all night to relax and unwind. Starting tomorrow, we’re back on day shift.” “I was just getting used to nights.” Ryder set his bottle on the counter and walked past Stone to the bedroom. He began unbuttoning his shirt. Stone followed him. “I’m sorry. I heard what Houtz said about the detective work. He mentioned me, Pickett and Moss. I asked him to mention you—” Ryder shook his head. “You think I give a shit about that?” He kicked out of his jeans and the rest of his clothes then strode into the bathroom. After turning on the shower, he adjusted the water temperature. “You don’t? What is it, then?” Stone seemed genuinely confused. “Everything is a farce, a sham. The arrest, the suspect, the…this…” he couldn’t go on. Ryder climbed into the shower and tugged the curtain closed. “This what?” Stone pulled back the white plastic sheet, yelling to be heard over the water. “This relationship!” Ryder snapped. “It’s a fucking joke. Luckily, the case is over now. You can go back to your department, and life’ll get a lot less complicated.” He grabbed the soap and began lathering up. Stone disrobed and stepped into the tub enclosure behind him. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Ryder kept his back to Stone and pounded his fist against the tile wall. “Don’t act like you don’t know. I saw you up there in all your glory next to Houtz. You loved it, and now

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the chief loves you. You’ll be assigned another special case and continue working your way up the ladder.” “So?” Stone slipped one arm around Ryder’s waist and spoke into his ear. “Like you told me the other day, it doesn’t mean we have to stop seeing each other. We’ll just need to be discreet.” “Keep it a secret,” Ryder said dully, still facing the wall. Stone kissed the nape of his neck. “Secrets can be fun. We’ll both be back on days, so our nights will be free to…” Ryder bent his neck and accepted the loving for a moment. Then he turned to face Stone, unsmiling. “I don’t want clandestine, night time quickies. I want a relationship with you. You’ve got an ego the size of Texas, and you drive me absolutely crazy, but I love you, Trevor Stone. You’re the first person who’s ever touched me deep inside. You know me and understand what I want and need. I wish I didn’t feel this way, things would be easier. But I’m nuts about you.” A nervous chuckle escaped Stone’s lips. “Aw, you’re fucked in the head. You lust after my hot bod, that’s for sure. Just like I lust after yours. Now come here and give me some sugar.” “I love you.” Ryder stared him down. “I want to spend my life with you and all the little things that involves. Share a place, mow the grass, pay the bills, shop for groceries…” “Hmm, and I just came in here wanting to fuck.” Ryder smiled. “Oh, there’d be plenty of fucking. If we were living together, we’d have even more time for your little jail cell fantasies.” Stone frowned. “I hate mowing lawns. That’s why I bought a condo.” Leaning forward, Ryder nipped his earlobe. “That’s why you’ll have me. I want a house with a yard and an extra garage so I can work on my boat.” “You have a boat?” Stone blinked. “Not yet, but I intend to. Just like I intend to have you.” Ryder raised his hand to a high shelf on the tile wall and fumbled for the lube and a condom. After securing both items, he donned the rubber and slicked a layer of lube over it. “Come here.” He bent one of Stone’s legs at the knee and placed it over the plastic liner on the outer edge of the tub.

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“You’re gonna yank that curtain down again,” Stone reminded him but allowed himself to be shifted into position. “Nah. I hung it back up real good this time.” Ryder stroked Stone’s erection and heavy balls then made his way behind them to the object of his desire. The tight, puckered hole flowered open for his greased, probing fingers. “Mmm, I’m gonna get my fuck?” Stone bucked his hips. “And more, my love.” Ryder tugged the sphincter from side to side until it accepted four digits readily. Then he pulled his hand out and stroked his own aching cock. “Spread your legs nice and wide for me.” Stone obliged, his eyes glazed and lust-filled. Ryder grinned. He came up under his fella and pressed his sheathed tip to Stone’s anus. He nudged upwards, and once the bulbous head popped in, the rest of his shaft followed easily. “Christ!” Stone muttered, reaching for a handhold to steady himself. Lifting with his thighs and lower back, Ryder raised the man part way off the tub floor and pressed his shoulders against tile wall. “Damn, you’re strong.” Stone panted for breath. “And brilliant, too.” Ryder gazed into Stone’s eyes as he thrust. “Hmm?” Stone’s eyes were glassy, as if he were struggling to remain focused. Ryder pounded up and into him. “You know, I’m part of that brilliant team of investigators.” Stone laughed. “We are fucking brilliant, aren’t we?” He slipped his arms around Ryder’s shoulders and held on, letting him do most of the work. “We are,” Ryder agreed, balls churning with his imminent release. He grasped Stone’s erection which bobbed between them and jacked it up and down. “Oh shit, yeah, that’s it.” Stone’s eyes closed. “Come on, baby.” Ryder balanced his thrusting with the hand jerks he gave Stone. “Come for me. Come with me. I’m ready to spill it inside you.” Stone groaned and shook. Warm cum erupted from the shaft in Ryder’s hand. He played it back and forth until the gushing stopped and his lover’s eyes reopened.

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“That’s it,” Ryder murmured. He pulled his hand away and licked a taste of the cream then offered one to Stone. Stone licked Ryder’s fingers, a low groan rumbling inside him. “Ah, here we go.” Ryder pressed both hands against the wall above Stone’s head. He thrust up into the hard body until his orgasm shattered and he struggled to remain standing. Stone bucked his ass up and down, adding to Ryder’s amazing release. “Brilliant,” the man murmured. “Hmm?” Ryder opened his eyes. He needed to move now they were both sated. The position weighed heavily on his back, and the water spray had turned lukewarm. Stone grimaced as the cock left his ass then smiled at Ryder. “I said you’re brilliant. The chief knows it, and I know it.” “Yeah, fucking brilliant.” Ryder handed over the bar of soap and took a dollop of shampoo for himself. “We’re almost out of hot water. Better get cleaned up real quick.” They lathered and rinsed, and Ryder shut off the water. He grabbed two towels off the nearest rack, handed one over and started drying his hair. Something was nagging at him, and despite the sex which had calmed him considerably, he couldn’t let this drop. He smiled at Stone. “You know what else we are?” “Hmm, besides exhilarated, exhausted and hungry? I don’t know. What?” “Wrong.” Ryder stared at him a moment before walking out of the bathroom. “What?” Stone followed, confused. “I haven’t slept since yesterday, so you’ll have to go a little slower. I also haven’t eaten since sometime last night, and I think that champagne made me a little dim.” Ryder tossed clothes around until he found clean things. He dressed quickly, looking at Stone. “Feel free to stay here and get something to eat. Crash and take a nap. I’m too wired to sleep. I’ve got someone to see.” Stone grabbed his forearm. “Who do you have to see just coming off a shift? What’s so fucking important?” “I had Danny do some nosing around Reuben Nubbs’ neighbourhood for me. We’re wrong about Nubbs, Stone. I know in my gut we are.”

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“It’s too late!” Stone’s hands flew into the air as he yelled. “Everything’s already rolling. We can’t stop it now. If you’re right, and he’s innocent, it’ll have to come out in the trial. There isn’t time before then.” “There’s always time for justice, Trevor. If I can uncover something that proves he’s innocent before this farce goes any farther—” “The process of justice isn’t a farce, Cullen. The evidence is there. And we’re damned lucky to get a speedy trial.” Was that a trace of uncertainty in Stone’s eyes? No. Stone was a good man, an honest detective. If he believed for even a moment in Nubbs’ innocence, he’d act on it. Just the way Ryder had to. Ryder knew he was doing the right thing. An innocent man’s life was at stake. Despite the fact Stone seemed sure he’d dotted all the ‘i’s’ and crossed the ‘t’s’, Ryder wasn’t one hundred percent positive. “I’ll see you later.” He grabbed his shoes and socks and headed to the front room. “Ryder! Get the fuck back here!” Stone paused to grab his clothes. Ryder didn’t wait. He snatched his keys and phone and tore out the door. It took driving a few blocks to calm his breathing. How long could he hope to hold onto Stone when they couldn’t talk through something important? Not long. Sometimes life sucked. He’d gotten by before meeting Trevor Stone, and he’d survive without him. The mental image of Stone handcuffing him for some cop and prisoner roleplaying sex went through his mind, and his heart ached. Things wouldn’t be as much fun without Stone, but, damn it, he’d survive. His mobile rang, and Ryder pulled it from his pocket. If it was Stone, he wouldn’t answer. The number, though, was unfamiliar. He flipped it open. “Ryder.” “I’m not sure I should have called you.” A flustered female voice filled the line. “Persia? What’s wrong?” “It’s Danny. He, uh, found something. I tried to tell him he should call you, but he got all macho on me. Said he could handle it.” “Found what?” Ryder pointed his car in the direction of Danny’s apartment and tried to focus on what she said and drive at the same time.

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“A notebook. Nubbs’ mom let us go in and look around his room. She’s pretty freaked out, but after you talked to her and told her we were trying to help him, she gave in. Anyway, Danny found a little notebook. At first we thought it might be yours. But it had weird stuff in it. And the writing was neat, nothing like your chicken scratch.” Ryder rolled his eyes and zipped through the tail of a yellow light. “What do you mean ‘weird’ stuff?” “Cryptic, like it’s in code. Lots of initials. Danny started matching the letters to the victim’s initials, and they fit. There were dates, times, other initials and phone numbers. Nubbs’ mother said she’d never seen it before, and she was sure it wasn’t his handwriting.” “Oh my god.” Ryder’s gut welled with excitement. “So where is this notebook? Where’s Danny?” “Well…” Persia hesitated. “He called one of the numbers and reached some big dog in the police department.” “What?” Ryder nearly drove off the road. Persia snivelled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Who was it, Persia?” “I don’t know. Danny wouldn’t tell me, said it was safer that way. I remember the initials I saw, though. BH, JM and NP.” Ryder repeated the letters in his head. Nothing jumped out at him, but a nervous niggle in the back of his mind told him they were on to something. “Where’s Danny?” “The guy said he wanted to meet him. If Danny brought the notebook, he’d pay him for it. Danny said he offered a bundle—enough to send me to beauty school.” “Shit!” Ryder didn’t like the sound of it. “Please tell me you know where they were meeting.” “Of course, I do.” She sounded indignant. “There’s an abandoned warehouse near State Street and Madison. Danny said if he wasn’t back in an hour I should call you. He just left, but I was worried. Something doesn’t feel right.” Ryder turned a sharp left and changed direction. “No, it doesn’t. You did the right thing, Persia. I’m headed there now. Here’s what I want you to do. Got a pen?” “Yes.”

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“Call Detective Stone,” he rattled off Stone’s mobile number. “Tell him exactly what you told me and that I’m on my way. Can you do that?” “Sure. Hey, Ryder…you think Danny’s okay?” Ryder sighed. Persia sounded as young as she looked, which he still figured was around fifteen. “You bet, kid. He’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you as soon as I can. And Persia, thanks for calling. You did the absolute right thing.” She sighed with relief. “I hoped so. Thanks, Ryder.” He punched his phone off and tossed it into the console. I knew something wasn’t right. I should have kept a better leash on Danny. The boy had never shown terrific judgement. Hooking up with Persia had been questionable, but in some strange way, Ryder thought she might be good for Danny. He pulled to a stop in the alley behind the old warehouse. Danny’s rusty, red VW bus was parked there next to a grey Cadillac Seville. Shit! A car like that in this neighbourhood never indicated good things. He walked by the vehicle and peered inside, but the tinted windows spilled no secrets. Where have I seen that car before? A million thoughts raced through his mind, but nothing fell into place. Ryder slipped inside the building and tiptoed around, listening for voices. When he heard them, he moved in their direction, making every effort to go quietly. A man’s voice spoke with what Ryder thought sounded like false bravado. “You need to hand over the notebook, so I can see what you’ve got. Then I’ll know how much it’s worth to me.” “I don’t think so,” Danny replied. “You promised me cash. I say we make a swap.” Ryder peered through a crack between two tall stacks of boxes. He could positively identify Danny. The other voice remained a mystery. “That doesn’t imply very much trust.” The man’s tone oozed sarcasm. “No shit.” Danny reeked of false bravado. “People know I’m here. If anything happens to me—” “Do you mean your pretty little girlfriend with the pink hair?” The man chuckled. “You think Jimmy has a way with a gun? Wait until you see his knife skills. He’s absolutely brilliant.”

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Ryder’s heart thudded so loudly he feared the others might hear him. Pieces of the puzzle crashed down around him like falling bricks. He ducked back and peered around to get his bearings and let the horrible truth he’d just discovered gel. When this shit hit the fan, standing beneath falling bricks might be preferable. He took a deep breath then raised his gun and stuck his head out from behind a box. “Freeze, Houtz. This ends now.” A horrified expression crossed the face of the police chief’s spokesman. He dived behind a box. Before Ryder could say anything else, a bullet whizzed by, all too near. “Fuck!” Ryder muttered. “Danny, get down!” The startled young man dropped to the cluttered, dusty floor. He began to crawl towards the door. “Stay there!” Ryder ordered as another shot rang out. “Houtz, my backup is around the corner. Drop your gun, now, or things get a whole lot worse for you.” “I doubt it could get much worse.” The man cackled nervously. “For me or for you.” A shuffle of noise and activity from the entrance startled Ryder. He glanced up in time to see a mop of red hair and thick black glasses and the muzzle flash of a gun. The shot rang louder than any Houtz had fired and ended with a sickening thud and a yelp. “Danny!” Ryder turned towards his informant. A spot of red on the boy’s shoulder spread until the front of Danny’s shirt was quickly soaked. “It would seem my backup was closer,” Houtz said bravely, still tucked away in his hiding place. Rage tore through Ryder. He raised his weapon and stepped into the open. “Moss, you mother-fucking son-of-a-bitch! I’m going to kill your lying ass.” The short detective showed the only enthusiasm Ryder had seen in weeks. He laughed at Danny and aimed his gun at Ryder. “Top shot in my class, jackoff. One of the reasons that asshole Stone hired me. I can shoot a hair off a set of balls from across the room.” He licked his lips. “Shall we give it a go?” Ryder’s breath caught. His standard-issue piece was no match for whatever weapon Moss toted, especially in an Old West-style showdown. He glanced around quickly.

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“Face me when I shoot you, Ryder. I know it’s kind of warped, but I like to see the look in a man’s eyes as he’s dying.” “A man?” Ryder bellowed. “What about Marianne Walker? You really think Roy Garcia was a man? All those people you killed were sick, confused kids.” Moss shrugged, still smiling. “Then let’s just say I put them out of their misery. The streets of Chicago are safer, and the police department—especially the brilliant men on the task force—come off looking great to John Q. Public.” “Drop it, Moss!” someone shouted from behind. The crooked cop spun around, firing blindly in the direction of the voice. Another shot rang out. Moss’ face registered surprise as he fell forward into a pool of rapidly spreading blood. Stone stepped out of the shadows. “Self-righteous son-of-a-bitch. Now, me? I never felt that need to see a man’s eyes.” He raised his voice, calling over his shoulder. “Somebody secure this asshole.” He kicked Moss’ gun away and waited while two officers rushed to help. Speaking loudly again, Stone called, “Houtz, get your ass out here. I swear to god I’ll shoot you right through those boxes.” Houtz tossed his gun first then stepped out, his hands raised. Ryder hurried to him and snapped a set of cuffs around his wrists. He shoved the ‘trusted media spokesman’ towards Stone. “Where’s Pickett? He’s the third corner of this twisted triangle. BH, JM and NP. Bernard Houtz, James Moss and Norman Pickett.” “Your boys have him detained outside.” Stone grabbed Houtz’s arm roughly. “Not men recommended to me by the chief’s office. A couple of cops I can fucking trust.” Danny groaned, reminding Ryder, in all the excitement, he was still there. Ryder raced to his side and knelt, lifting the boy’s head into his lap. “Danny! Stay with me, kid.” He peeled back the blood-soaked shirt and was shocked to find the bullet hole in the boy’s chest rather than his shoulder. “How’s he doing?” Stone asked. Horrified, Ryder shook his head and gazed at Stone. “Get the paramedics, will ya?” “They’re on the way. I’ll send ‘em in.” Stone stepped around Moss and the two officers guarding him and shoved Houtz out the door. “Move, you slimy sack of shit.”

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Ryder looked down at Danny, whose eyes had glazed over. “Hang on, kid. Ambulance will be here in a minute. Those people are top notch. They’ll fix you right up. A few days of hospital food will put some meat on your bones, too.” He was rambling, but he didn’t know what else to do. “Danny?” Persia stepped into the warehouse. Her face was pale, streaked with tears. Ryder shook his head. “You shouldn’t be in here.” “Stone let me in.” Ryder tried to convey the seriousness of Danny’s condition with his eyes. She knelt next to her boyfriend and took his hand. “Hang on, baby. I hear sirens.” “Notebook…pocket,” he whispered. Persia dug out the small, red book and handed it to Ryder. “You did good, sweetie. Real good.” “Yeah.” Ryder shoved the damp bangs off Danny’s face. “Thanks to you, Reuben Nubbs will go free, and the real murderers have been exposed.” Danny smiled weakly. “Shoulda been a cop.” “Yes, you still should.” Ryder fought back tears. “You’d make a great cop.” With another sad smile and a gasp, Danny closed his eyes. Persia cried out, falling over his body, sobbing loudly. Ryder held Danny’s head in one arm and wrapped the other around the weeping girl. He buried his face in her hair and forced himself to breathe. “Coming through!” a female voice shouted. Emergency medical technicians pulled Ryder and Persia away from Danny so they could assess the boy. Ryder scrambled back and stood then began pacing back and forth. He kept one eye on the medical team and saw one woman shake her head at the other. A low, keening wail filled the warehouse and, for a moment, Ryder didn’t realise it came from him. Someone grabbed his arm, but he reflexively jerked away. “Come on.” Stone tried again. “Let’s walk.” “No.” Ryder shook his head, tears gushing. He watched the paramedics load Danny to a gurney and begin CPR as they wheeled him out, Persia close behind. He vaguely noticed another medical team working on Moss, but at that moment, couldn’t find it in his heart to care.

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“Cullen, come with me.” Stone’s voice was demanding. Ryder allowed Stone to drag him past throngs of police and evidence technicians who were taking over the scene. In a secluded corner of the warehouse, he dropped to his knees and sobbed. The relief he felt about Reuben Nubbs was voided by grief over Danny and the identities of the true killers. His body shook violently. “No.” “Look,” Stone shook his arm. “This wasn’t your fault. Danny shouldn’t have acted without us. He should have called you when he found that notebook—” “But he didn’t, and look what’s happened. He’s dying! It feels like my fault.” Grief clawed at his gut. “It’s not,” Stone repeated. “You said yourself, the kid was impulsive and didn’t follow instructions.” Anger welled in Ryder. “Don’t talk about him that way! You never cared about him. You never cared about anybody but yourself.” Stone cupped Ryder’s chin. “I care about you.” “Leave me alone.” Ryder tried to shove him away. Sounds of activity buzzed in the background, and Ryder knew he needed to get back to work. “No. Listen to me. I love you, Cullen Ryder. I didn’t know what I was going to do about it until I saw that bastard Moss with a gun pointed at you. At that moment, I knew what to do.” Ryder stopped struggling and looked at him. “What?” Other noise faded away as Stone caressed Ryder’s cheek. “I’m going to hold on to you as tight as I can and love you every day for the rest of my life. And we’ll always listen to each other. If anybody doesn’t like it, well, fuck ‘em. They don’t have to watch.” He planted a kiss on Ryder’s mouth. Ryder sniffled, sighed and opened his mouth for more.

**** Three Months Later

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The moving van pulled slowly away from the front of the ranch-style house. Ryder stepped back and watched it go, relieved he hadn’t been forced to load and unload all that furniture by himself. One of his three garage doors began to rise, and he glanced at the driveway. The silver Lincoln pulled up, and the driver’s window lowered. Stone stuck his head out. “They gone already?” “Yep. The heavy stuff is all in place. We just have to unpack the boxes. Aren’t I a smart man?” Stone grinned. “A very smart man. What are we going to do with all our extra time? We each took a week off to move.” Ryder smiled. “Not like that stopped you from going in today. How are things in the office of the new spokesman for the chief of police?” “Just fine.” Stone rubbed the arm of his pricey suit. “I’ve about got people convinced the chief didn’t know what Houtz was up to. But the man is watching me like a hawk. He isn’t going to let another staffer snooker him, plus he knows I jumped the gun on Nubbs. He isn’t going to let me forget I was wrong. Puts more scrutiny on me, which is okay. I’ve got nothing to hide.” Ryder leaned in the open window. “Except that spare set of cuffs in the bedroom. Explain that at your next press conference.” Stone placed a small kiss on Ryder’s lips. “Nobody’s business but ours. So, the bed is all set up, you say?” “Oh, yeah. I even managed to find the box with sheets.” Ryder straightened and grinned. “Excellent.” Stone pulled his vehicle ahead but stopped before he got to the garage. “Hey, did you talk to Persia?” “She’s doing great. Says Danny doesn’t love living with her aunt, but until he’s fully recovered, they’ve got a place to stay. She was thrilled she got her high school equivalency certificate, and she starts Beauty College next week.” Stone shook his head. “Still can’t believe he made it. He’s one special kid. Your arranging for them to get the reward money for catching the Cleaner was a stroke of genius. Fucking brilliant, some might say.”

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“Oh, yeah.” Ryder smiled. “You know, you really don’t have to remind me of that every day.” “Only speaking the truth. You are brilliant. And I’m brilliant for choosing you.” Ryder’s heart swelled with pride and adoration for the man he loved. “I believe I chose you first.” “No fucking way. I made the first move, and don’t you forget it.” “I told you I loved you first.” “You want to stand out here arguing all day? Or do you want to get your ass inside so we can christen our new house?” Ryder wiggled his bum suggestively. Stone reached through the window and smacked the jean-clad bottom. “I’m going!” Ryder laughed and let the Lincoln chase him into the garage.

About the Author Jenna Byrnes could use more cabinet space and more hours in a day. She’d fill the kitchen with gadgets her husband purchases off TV and let him cook for her to his heart’s content. She’d breeze through the days adding hours of sleep, and more time for writing the hot, erotic romance she loves to read. Jenna thinks everyone deserves a happy ending, and loves to provide as many of those as possible to her gay, lesbian and hetero characters. Her favourite quote, from a pro-gay billboard, is “Be careful who you hate. It may be someone you love.”

Email: [email protected] Jenna Byrnes loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

Also by Jenna Byrnes Unexpected Love: Nothing to Lose Unexpected Love: Worth the Risk Unexpected Love: Having It All Rose & Thorn Society: Switching Seth Cattle Valley: Truth or Dare Cattle Valley: Fool’s Gold Convincing Cate Second Time Around Carnal Collision Taking Control Secret Santa My Secret Valentine: Secret Rendezvous Pleasure Bound: Aloha Kaua Untamed Hearts: Feral Heat Untamed Hearts: Bear Combustion Untamed Hearts: Wolfen Choice Kindred Spirits: Ethan’s Choice Kindred Spirits: Hunter’s Light Friction: Maximum Exposure

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