Tie 'Em Up, Hold 'Em Down

TIE ’EM UP , HOLD ’EM DOWN

…Bear stood, still facing the fire, and unzipped his jacket. He heard movement and thought the dogs were shifting in their sleep. He froze when he heard Dane say, “Here, let me help you with that.” Bear thought he’d never take another breath again. Electricity shot through him, sparking his naughtiest senses to life. All he had to do was turn, and he’d see what every sensual nerve in him had clamored to see from the first moment he’d looked into those smoky eyes. The few tantalizing glimpses he’d gotten at the firehouse had only fanned the fires of desire higher. Dane pulled off the jacket. It landed on the floor with a soft swish and hands tugged his shirt out of his pants. “Raise your arms.” Bear could feel Dane’s breath on his neck, and he shut his eyes against the warm tide that rose inside and lapped against the barrier his heart had built, almost engulfing him. He raised his arms, even as he told himself how dangerous this was. He couldn’t stop himself. He heard the muted sound of the shirt joining the jacket. Warm hands stroked Bear’s shoulders. A cheek was laid against his back, and he felt the faint stubble of facial hair. By morning there’d be a sexy five o’clock shadow. He felt his cock finish filling. “Are you trying to seduce me, Dane?” It came out in a

whisper. “Damn right. I’m pretty sure you gave me the look today, but if you want me to stop, say so now. I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you.” Bear couldn’t have spoken if his life had depended on it…

ALSO BY C AROLINA VALDEZ Avalanche! Dark Stranger In Passion’s Thrall Knight of the Captive Heart Lure Passion’s Sweet Ecstasies Portal To Darkness Silk Stealth Sweet Chocolate Ecstasy Tears Of The Dragon View From The Top Where Vesuvius Sleeps Woman In Black Lace

TIE ’EM UP, HOLD ’EM DOWN BY CAROLINA VALDEZ

AMBER Q UILL PRESS, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com

TIE ’EM UP, HOLD ’EM DOWN AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2008 by Carolina Valdez ISBN 978-1-60272-343-6 Cover Art © 2008 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: Elemental Alchemy

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

With thanks to: Best-selling Amber Allure author Lyndi Lamont for her input on plotting The man in black leathers who parked his Harley Davidson next to my car in front of a pharmacy and graciously answered the questions of an older woman The online Bloodhound breeders who responded to my emails The battalion chief who provided details about a firefighter’s day and other information Other hunk firefighters I accosted in grocery stores and on calls to bombard them with questions The Public Broadcast System for its program on a southern California search and rescue team

TIE ’EM UP, HOLD ’EM DOWN

CHAPTER 1 Southern California March, 2006 Dane Garrison loved women. He loved their fine legs and soft breasts, the sway as they walked, their laughter and sensitive spirits. He treasured them as friends. But Dane Garrison loved men more. It was men he wanted to bed. True beauty to him was wide shoulders tapering down to slim hips and tight butts; a deep cleft between hard muscles following down the spine to end in a place of hot release and pleasure. He’d never gone in for shaven genitals. Hair under arms and across chests and the thatch from which swollen 1

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cocks with dark, dripping heads sprang excited him so much his own dick drooled in anticipation. He reveled in the firm grasp of a man’s hand on his engorged penis, desire swamping him as strong lips whispered sensual words while they brushed and pressed against his. In the past, he’d had no problem spreading his love around and even breaking a few hearts. Now he’d met the one man who’d forever wiped out his taste for any other. A man so locked within himself, so afraid of being revealed, that Dane despaired of ever breaking through to him. But Dane wasn’t Dane if he wasn’t persistent. He would find a way. If he could. *

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Robert Barrington, affectionately known as Bear, was in the park chatting with the other Search and Rescue canine crew members under a sky as clear and blue as the mountain air was crisp and chilled. He was glad he’d worn a jacket and gloves. Only vaguely aware that another vehicle had pulled up, he was surprised when Bill Winthrop, the team leader, called to him. “Bear, I’d like you to meet Dane Garrison. I’m assigning him as your new SAR partner. This is Robert Barrington, better known as Bear, and Blood, his hound.” Bear walked over to greet the men. “Johns finally moved away?” “Right. He joined a team in Orange County.” The newcomer extended his hand, and Bear looked into a 2

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face of movie idol beauty. Eyes like dark smoke below a brush of hair the color of midnight looked directly into his. Dane’s smile was open and friendly. He had the kind of skin that became irritated with too much shaving, and this Saturday morning he had the faint signs of a shadow on upper lip and following the line of a jaw that was strong and angular. It only added to his sexy appeal. Lust swept through Bear—pure, linear, compelling, contained only by force of will. It wasn’t the usual stirring of his blood upon seeing an attractive man, but something deeper, more powerful. For a moment he couldn’t move. This man was to be his partner? Damn. If he didn’t keep his distance and tamp down his reaction, there could be hell to pay. Letting his feelings for this newcomer show could ruin the illusion he was straight that he’d created about himself the last few years here, not only in SAR, but as a firefighter. Grogan, a fellow firefighter, may have let his guard down in some way to lead the men to suspect he was gay. Bear didn’t know if he was, but he’d watched as the man resigned from the fire department after being drummed out in subtle ways. The station captain hadn’t noticed the harassments, and apparently Grogan hadn’t reported them. Bear didn’t know where Grogan had gone or even if he was still in firefighting, but he was determined it wasn’t going to happen to him. He’d worked too hard to be where he was. Controlling this streak of lust meant everything. He switched his dog’s leash to the other hand and removed his glove. “Welcome. Glad to meet you.” It came out more 3

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stilted than he intended because this man could be danger in capital letters. Dane’s grip was firm—a strong man’s handshake. Bear’s heart rate revved up at his touch. He wondered if the other man felt his bounding pulse, heard the racket his heart was making in his chest, knew of the growing tumescence in his cock. For a moment, he thought the newcomer had noticed— thought he saw a brief sensual flare to his nostrils. Then it was gone. It must have been his imagination. “This is Cinnamon, Garrison’s search partner.” Bear looked down at a golden retriever whose reddish coat glinted in the sunlight. She danced around as if eager to play, a necessary trait in a rescue dog. By this time, Blood was tugging at his leash to reach her, to sniff her butt and take her measure. After giving the two dogs time to get acquainted, Dane sat on his haunches and extended a closed fist to Blood. Distracted from his attentions to Cinnamon, the hound took in the man’s scent by a thorough sniff of him. Satisfied this was a safe person, he allowed the stranger to scratch his wrinkled head and rub behind his long, droopy ears. “This is the first Bloodhound I’ve seen. He has great points and beautiful tan coloring. I don’t fancy the other colors myself. You ever show him?” Warmth rushed through Bear as he watched how fast Blood had accepted him. Later, he thought that may have been the moment he’d fallen for Dane Garrison. The team was composed of dog lovers, but he could tell this guy and his 4

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hound had instantly bonded in a special way. That brought his esteem for the man up several notches. “Thanks. I was lucky to find him, and I prefer the tan, too. No, I’ve never shown him. Not my thing. Your Cinnamon’s a beauty.” Responding to her name, the bitch edged over to check Bear out. At first seeming intimidated by his size, she finally allowed Bear to touch her. Her coat felt soft and silky, of a medium length in contrast to Blood’s short, smooth coat. Bill smiled as he watched. “Good match. Let’s start training. I’ll play victim first.” He jogged off and disappeared to hide for the dogs to locate. Team members fastened vivid blue vests with the word “Rescue” over the backs of their dogs, and the morning began. They moved along the mountain trail, the aromatic scent of pine so strong Bear thought it a wonder the dogs could smell anything else. Unfortunately, Dane and Cinnamon worked well beside Bear and Blood, so there was no chance of a reprieve from partnering with him. Crazily, despite their winter jackets, anytime they were close, Bear thought he felt the man’s heat. He had to draw his gaze away from Garrison’s hands as the long, adept fingers signaled and handled his canine. He shuddered. The thought of them gliding over his naked body to stroke and penetrate didn’t stand considering. Inwardly, he groaned, annoyed with himself. It’d been a long time since he’d responded so fast and deep to any man. I’m acting like a school boy with a crush. I need to 5

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concentrate on the training, not the ache in my dick. Cinnamon was quick and clever. Blood’s forte was trailing, picking up rafts of scent along the ground. His ears almost reached dirt, acting as a conduit for the flow of skin cells up to his sensitive nose. Cinnamon was an air scenter, head up as she sniffed. Blood was familiar with the smell of the thousands of unique skin cells each team member shed. When they hid someone, he automatically sought the one scent that was different or missing. It took the retriever only a few tries to develop such discrimination. When they broke for lunch, the talk settled, as usual, on search and rescue and the dogs themselves. Bill clapped Dane on the shoulder. “Blood found me on that first hide, but Cinnamon made her share of finds, too. She’s a great dog. She’ll give him a run for his money at the annual Firefighters’ Muster in Zanja City if you can be there. Despite how big he is, Bear’s hound has always located more victims faster than any of our smaller dogs.” “And this muster is…” Dane asked. “It’s a big community event held in the park—chili cookoff, tug o’ war, pole climbing, searches. Several fire companies participate, along with the SAR groups. Hope you can join us.” Dane smiled. “I’d say Blood’s size is in proportion to that of his handler. I’d like taking part in your muster if I’m available.” He glanced around. “It’s play time, I see.” Balls, squeaky toys and flying disks came out of bags as 6

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the men continued to reward their dogs with play for a morning of hard work. Dane pulled out Cinnamon’s favorite ball and tossed it. They’d brown-bagged it, but Bill provided coffee and soft drinks from the SAR command vehicle. After the dogs had tired, they were watered and fed. A few team members left, but most pulled out lunch sacks and sat at various tables to eat. Dane wandered over to sit at the one opposite Bear and unzipped his insulated lunch box. “Have you been with the team long?” “About four years.” “I’ve been doing this about that long, too, but in Washington state.” “With all the rain and snowfall there, you must’ve been busy. Although we’ve had more snow and rain than usual this season, ordinarily we don’t get much here.” Dane’s laugh was easy and comfortable. “Dry terrain will be a nice change. Washington’s the only place I’ve worked, and we did manage a lot of snow and water recovery. Each time Bear looked up, Dane’s eyes looked directly into his in the most disconcerting way. He didn’t want to be too friendly, wanted to keep it on a professional level, but this guy’s personality was so open it invited closeness. At one point, he felt Dane’s boot brush his under the table, and for a moment he stopped chewing as emotion uncurled in his belly. He refused to look up for fear what he was feeling would show in his face. At least his jacket was long enough that if his cock betrayed him it wouldn’t be noticeable. 7

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To his relief, Bill joined them, and he didn’t have to continue conversing with Dane. Bill unwrapped a chili burger. “We do some rescues at the ski resorts, but we have more work in the other seasons when even experienced mountain hikers get into trouble.” He shook his head. “Why people hike without proper gear and emergency equipment is beyond me. Even the best of us could slip and fall or become confused when a sudden storm moved in.” “Overconfident maybe? It’s sort of like experienced pilots who don’t file flight plans.” Dane finished half his sandwich in two bites. “We can’t reach them in time because we haven’t a clue where they may have crashed. It’s sad.” As Bear watched his new partner chew, he found himself wondering how those sculpted lips would taste. Would they be musky, like cum after a blow job, or maybe have the warm flavor of malt, as after a beer? He shook his head to halt that line of thought and drained his can of Dr. Pepper. He shivered. “I think I’ll get some coffee. A cold drink in this chill air was a mistake.” Before he returned, Dane, crunching an apple, had moved on to visit with other crew members. Bear watched as Carole and Deidre’s faces, the two single women on the team, lit up when Dane approached. And why not? He’s a gorgeous hunk of a man. Wouldn’t be surprised if he was named SAR’s Sexiest Man of the Year someday. There was no SAR sexiest man award, and he recognized the tinge of regret he felt that this gorgeous man he wanted to 8

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fuck would be hetero. “I’m glad we’ve gotten a replacement for Johns this soon.” Bill let the steam from his coffee rise to his face before sipping. Bear pulled his thoughts back to his leader. “With his Washington experience, we won’t have to train him, and this has been our heaviest snow season since I’ve worked here.” “To change the subject, what’s your schedule for this month?” Bill marked off the days Bear could train with the team. “You’re headed home now?” Bear nodded. “It’s too cold to sit out here much longer.” “Playing slow pitch tonight?” Bear let a smile break through. “Yeah. Wouldn’t miss it.” *

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Dane waved when he saw his partner leaving. Apparently Barrington hadn’t shared the same searing wash of sexual fantasy Dane had experienced when they’d met. At first he thought he’d seen a slight pause in Bear’s breathing and the tightening of his jaw, but there was no “look” from him, so Dane decided he’d projected his own feelings on the man. Okay, so the guy was straight. He’d have to live with that. It wasn’t the first time he’d been attracted to a hetero. Still, this one had ripped his breath away with only one look into jade-green eyes that reflected a serious nature, and at the broad, solid build of a man whose sandy-colored hair was clipped in a buzz cut. A patch of the same sandy hair showed just above the neckline of the mock crew-neck shirt he wore 9

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under his jacket. His looks might be unremarkable, but his presence was like an energy flow swirling around him. Dane had watched everyone respond to it as they would to anyone who had the mysterious charisma for leadership. He’d immediately wondered what the man’s cock would feel like. “Does he ever talk much?” he asked Deidre and Carole. They laughed. “It wouldn’t be Bear if he ran off at the mouth,” Carole said. “Maybe he doesn’t say much, but you can count on him to be there if you need him. You can trust his assessment of a rescue situation, and when he does speak, everyone listens, even Bill,” Deidre added. “I noticed that. Is he married?” Dane’s throat tightened as he waited for the response. He’d looked for a ring when Bear had removed his gloves to eat, but a lot of married guys didn’t like wearing rings. “Nah. He’s got a girlfriend, but she doesn’t live here. Las Vegas maybe? Celeste comes down for our Christmas party. Comes for the muster if he’s competing. Nice gal. They’ve known each other a long time, I think,” Carole said. “We tease him about popping the question, but he just smiles. He never talks about his personal life. Only about Blood and SAR. And his motorcycle. He does talk with the guys about his Kawasaki Ninja.” So he had a girl. Disappointment was a stone in his chest. 10

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“Because he’s got Celeste, it means hands off for us, and, believe me, I can think of a lot of places on that hunk of a body I’d like to put my hands. You betcha.” Deidre tossed her empty soda can into the recycle basket they carried. Dane’s hands tingled. He, too, could think of all kinds of spots where he’d like to touch and fondle Bear. “Next time you come, we’ll probably go out for lunch afterwards. There’s a great sandwich shop in Crestview. It’s not far from here, and they have a room where we can have the dogs with us.” “I’ll keep that in mind. Sounds like fun.” As they stood to leave, Carole asked, “Since you’ve asked about Bear, let me ask if you’re married.” Dane felt his face flush. He always dreaded this question. “No, I’m not.” “We’ll keep that in mind,” Deidre said. “You’d better believe it,” Carole shot back. Dane relaxed and laughed with them. They were nice women. But they weren’t for him. *

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On the way down the mountain, Bear wondered why his reaction to his new partner had been so different from that of other good-looking guys. Judging by the way the girls had reacted, women also thought him a hunk. Moments of sexual release with a man were not as frequent as they’d been back in the days when he’d cruised, toying with a way of life he hadn’t really enjoyed—one that 11

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would have led sooner or later to being outed. Or something worse—like HIV infection. In those days it was fuck, fuck, fuck—any where, any place. Today his life had a purpose it hadn’t had then. He had more important things to think about than constantly getting it on with strangers. Because he worked in a super-macho, all-male environment, he kept his sexual appetites reined in. He’d been doing okay. Until this stranger had walked onto his SAR team. Now it was going to be tough. He sighed. From the back seat, where a harness protected him from being thrown from the car in an accident, Blood, ever sensitive to his master’s moods, bayed in response to the sigh. “I’m okay, boy. Just thinking.” The big hound quieted. Since they’d only train during their days off work, it was reassuring to know he wouldn’t be spending much SAR time with Garrison. Anyway, their schedules might not match, which could limit it even more. That should keep him safe. Reaching his house in the valley, he unlocked the doggiedoor in the kitchen and Blood pushed through to the backyard. After a hot shower, Bear pulled on a worn pair of sweats to fix dinner. He read the newspaper and watched the news while he ate. Blood reappeared, and he fed and talked to him before he dressed in his softball uniform. He left the hound curled up in his favorite chair and headed out the door with his bat and glove. Daylight savings time hadn’t kicked in, and the field lights 12

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cast a soft glow on grass that was worn in spots. Home plate was hidden under a layer of dry dirt. Bear smiled. It was so typical of the Zanja rec department’s ball diamonds. He stretched, loving the feel of the evening, eager to play even if it wasn’t over perfectly manicured grass and dirt as it was for the pros. The air in the valley was brisk, not as much as in the mountains, but the men wore lightweight jackets for warm-up. He was greeted with nods and, “Hey, man, what’s up?” There were already a number of young women in the stands. Some were wives, others had come to check out the single guys. Teasing wolf calls came from Annette and Dixie, unmarried women who were his friends, straight women who had no idea he wasn’t. He waved and smiled. Like SAR’s Carole and Deidre, if they had designs on him they were going to be disappointed, but he enjoyed their company and thought they enjoyed his. Nothing serious, only out for a fun time at the ball park. He never gave off vibes that he was looking for love. And he certainly didn’t give them off to men. About that he used extreme caution. As the Hornets’ team captain and coach, he logged in the players present. While the other team’s men filtered in, his guys crowded around to ask who would play which positions and what the batting lineup would be. Mike, who shared shortstop and coaching with him, opened the green-and-gold team bag and handed out bats, balls and helmets. Rufugio Garcia, a Mexican national who’d become a U. S. 13

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citizen and played first base, said, “We’ve got a new guy coming tonight, capitán. He lives in an apartment complex on my street and was looking for a team, so I invited him. He plays shortstop.” “We’ll try him out.” To Mike he added, “You take the first inning so I can talk to him, and I’ll play the next. Then the two of you can trade off the rest of the game. If he can’t cut it at short, we’ll find a spot where he can.” Disappointment swept through Bear. Shortstop was his favorite position, and if this guy was any good there’d be less time for him to play. They took the field for batters’ practice. Leroy had just thrown to third when Refugio said, “The new man’s here, coach.” Mike whistled low and soft. “If that’s him, he’s the only person in short sleeves and no jacket. Where’s he from that it seems warm to him out here tonight…Alaska?” Bear, who was at the mound talking to his pitcher, got a bad feeling when he heard Mike’s remark. Had the man maybe come down from Seattle? Surely not. It couldn’t be. He turned. Oh, hell. It was. He leveled his voice as he greeted him. “Hi, Garrison. So you play ball, too.” Refugio said, “I didn’t know you knew Dane.” “We met this morning. I’m his new SAR partner.” Dane extended a hand. Bear shook it, noticing the network of veins that stood out on the highly muscled arm. “Heavy hitter? You look like you spend serious time working out.” “I’ve been known to spend a few minutes in the gym.” It 14

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was said tongue in cheek. Again Bear saw that smile—cheeks dimpled at the corners of his mouth, a hint of even, white teeth. Lips that teased to be kissed. Tasted. Ravaged. As they released their grip, Bear was grateful he’d at least conquered lust. Now the man’s touch only triggered a tremulous feeling in his chest that might be the precursor of a heart attack. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The team moved off the field so the opposing team could warm up, and Bear introduced Dane all around. As the first inning began, he took Dane aside to explain about the team. “It’s my philosophy as captain that everyone plays. Unless a man’s benched for poor sportsmanship, no one sits out the entire game, even if it means we lose because weaker guys are on the field or batting.” “So you’re not out for blood?” “We play hard. We play to win. But when we lose, we suck it up. Sometimes a man gets hot under the collar, but everyone’s here because they love baseball, and usually the heat of the moment fades. If it doesn’t, that’s the man who loses his chance to be in the game the rest of the night. If you want to play for serious blood, you’ll need to find another team.” Dane, arms crossed and glove in hand, looked down and scuffed the dirt with the toe of one cleated shoe. Bear held his breath, painfully torn between wanting the object of his torment to go away and longing for him to stay. Dane looked up and smiled. “I guess I can go with that.” Bear clapped him on the back and breathed again. “Then 15

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let’s play ball.” The umpire had arrived, dressed in regulation colors. He checked in with the captains, pulled a brush from his back pocket, cleaned off home plate and called, “Batter up!” As they came off the field at the close of the sixth inning, Mike said under his breath, “Garrison’s damn good, not quite as good as you, but better’n me. He bats and runs decent, too.” Bear nodded, thinking of the quick reflexes, strong arm and good eye. “He’s a helluva lot better than damn good. I’m glad Refugio invited him.” Cheers rose from the rooting section when the Hornets took the game in the bottom half of the ninth. Dane had hit a double with a man on third, and when the powerful arms of Bear slugged two men in with a home run to clinch the win, the crowd jumped up screaming. The men left the field highfiving and bumping chests together. “We usually go for a beer and pizza at Pernicano’s after a win. Want to join us, gringo?” Refugio teased Dane by using the Spanish word for foreigner, implying being from Seattle was the same thing. “I have the feeling you’ve just dubbed me with a nickname. Sure, I’d like to go. Where is it?” Dane asked. Refugio gave him directions. “Are you coming, Bear?” He wanted to go. Could feel it in the pit of his stomach. He’d never have a family of his own, and these people were part of what family he felt he had. He loved the camaraderie, the banter after a game, but he couldn’t afford to spend extra time near a man who was fast becoming a sexual obsession. 16

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“I’ll catch you next time. I have work to do tonight. Enjoy yourselves and drink an extra beer for me.” He smiled at Dane. “Great game. I’m glad you decided to play with us.” *

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Dane watched him say his goodbyes and head for his car. He hadn’t wanted to be on a team where everyone played. Fiercely competitive, he’d expected a team that fielded only the best players in a clutch. He’d almost turned Bear down, but he was smitten with this reserved man who seemed to have the regard and easy affection of both men and women, so he’d stayed. To be honest with himself, he had to admit he knew he couldn’t have walked away. For a man his size, Bear moved fast and with athletic prowess. Just watching him field and bat had ignited Dane’s imagination—what it would be like to touch his nakedness, to enter that appealing ass and fuck him hard and quick. Wistfully, he wondered if he and his girlfriend—Celeste, was it?—went in for threesomes. Don’t be stupid. Give it up. “What are you smiling at?” Mike asked. Careful, Dane. “I was thinking about the terrific stop and throw you made in the eighth inning and Bear’s homer in the ninth.” The men started talking ball again, and he was content to move with the flow. He was going to see a lot more of Robert Barrington. There was time to get to know him, to unravel the mystery that was Bear. 17

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CHAPTER 2 It was six-thirty Monday morning in Station One of the Zanja City Fire Department, and Dane had reported for work dressed in the trim-fitting navy pants and shirt uniform of the city’s professional firefighters. Excitement pulsed through his veins. A new town, new friends, and the new title of arson investigator in work he loved. It didn’t get much better than that. He waited for Captain Stamford Emerson in front of the trophy case on the first floor of the pleasant, two-story brick firehouse. Glancing in, he saw that Robert Barrington was well represented—honored by Optimists International as State Firefighter of the Year, multiple wins for Bear and Blood in 18

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various events in the local muster, commendations for training and community service, and a Meritorious Service Award from the County of Zanjero for saving a family’s life in a house fire when he was off duty. A large, colored photograph showed him in a hospital bed, his hands and arms fat with white bandages, while the chairman of the board of supervisors presented a plaque to him. Dane let out a low whistle. “Yeah, Bear’s one hell of a man. He does this station and the department proud,” Emerson said as he approached. He was silver-haired, and Dane would have bet his face had earned the lines that creased it. As if to mitigate his praise of this one person, the captain added in a voice that showed he meant it, “Every man here is important. None more important than the next. Come, I’ll show you around and introduce you to the men.” “I’ve already met Bear. I’m his new SAR partner.” They found Bear outside by the big hose and ladder truck, talking with another firefighter. He looked up as the men approached, and Dane, who’d been looking forward to this surprise, could have sworn the blood drained from his face. “You know Bear, our engineer, and this is Leon Matson, our maintenance technician. Dane Garrison’s replacing Grogan as our arson man.” The men shook hands, but, unlike previous greetings, Bear’s hand was ice cold. He didn’t look Dane in the face, and his face was so pinched and white Dane worried he might pass out. Although he’d seemed fine last night, maybe he’d been 19

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ill. Despite the excuse he’d given, maybe feeling sick was the real reason he hadn’t joined them for pizza and beer. The captain signaled they were going into the room where the damp hoses were racked for drying, and Bear appeared to relax as they walked away. When it was time to bring in his personal items, Dane learned he’d have the room next to Barrington’s and share a bathroom with him. A thrill shot through him. Even if nothing sexual was involved, he would be able to work beside him. Twenty-four hours on, alternating with three days off, meant he and Bear would sleep at the same time in adjoining rooms. On top of that, there’d be SAR training and slow pitch. It would have to do. Gradually, he met all the men he’d be working with. The engineer’s job included responsibility for station maintenance, so he assigned Dane to trim the small boxwood hedge lining the walkway to the office and sweep up the clippings. Others mopped floors and cleaned bathrooms. The brush fire engine was washed and dried until it gleamed. As lunch time neared, he entered the station house to the smell of bacon frying. Dane’s mouth watered. “Who’s cooking today?” “I am,” Hal called out. “We’re having turkey, bacon, tomato, and avocado sandwiches on wheat bread. All with mustard, some with mayo. Fruit and chocolate chip cookies for dessert.” “Sounds good to me,” Dane said to the stocky, blue-eyed blond turning the pieces of bacon. 20

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“Yeah, well, wait ’til dinner. Hal ain’t the greatest cook around.” This teasing remark came from LeeLand Stowe, the dark-skinned man who drove the newly washed pumper engine they used on brush fires. “So I need to eat out tonight?” Dane gave a little laugh as he joined in with the banter. “Nah,” LeeLand admitted. “Tonight he’s fixing sloppy Joes and tossed salad. Chocolate cake’s for dessert. It’ll be good.” When dinner was over and chores for the day had been completed, another man, Mel Brooks, helped wash up. In the big, open living room, one man was absorbed in working a Takegaki puzzle, some had turned on TV, and others played poker for chips. No money exchanged hands because even pennies would have been considered gambling and was illegal. Dane smiled. City workers caught gambling would be bad news. Dane noticed playing only for chips didn’t make the game any less competitive. He also noticed Bear’s face rarely gave anything away. When he won, however, he broke into a smile wide with triumph and pleasure. For a time, Dane stood behind him and watched his cards as he played. It was not only a chance to be near him, to feel the warmth and catch the scent of the man, but to analyze his strategy. He made sure Bear wasn’t the only one he stood behind or his interest in him would be apparent. He was good at this, at keeping his attractions hidden in unsafe environments, and this station house reeked with the testosterone of macho males. Seattle 21

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had been different. The game ended, and he said, “You’re damned lucky to have been dealt such good hands.” Bear laughed. “Wait long enough and you’ll see the cards turn on me.” He returned them to their box. “Don’t let him kid you. Even with lousy hands he wins more than his share,” Matson said as he slid red, blue and white chips into a carousel. Dane thought he caught a hint of jealousy in Matson’s voice. He seemed to be a poor loser who held some animosity toward Bear. Dane suspected this guy might become his least favorite of the new colleagues. Most of the men were in their rooms by nine or ten. Unless they went out on a call, they’d be up at five, eat breakfast and be ready to leave when the next shift arrived at six. As they headed for their rooms, Dane entered the one next to Bear’s and thought Barrington’s jaw tightened and a look almost of desperation crossed his face. In response to that expression, Dane gestured with his palms up. “This was the only room free.” Then he wondered why he’d felt it necessary to explain anything. Bear’s face cleared. He nodded. “I know. It’s good to have you here. We don’t have any other SAR or ball players here. It’s nice to have company.” Dressed in clean shorts and a T-shirt, Dane laid out his uniform and a selection of boots, because working around the station house or fighting brush or structure fires required different footgear. They had one minute to dress and hit the 22

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mat at the bottom of the brass pole if they were called out in the night. You went to bed prepared. He crawled under the covers thinking of Bear, knowing the hard-on he had at the thought of him in the adjoining room would slowly soften once he’d fallen asleep. If he could fall asleep. *

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Bear lay on his back in bed, hands under his head, thinking about Dane. The trim, dark blue uniform only heightened his good looks. Despite the rush of excitement that rolled through him and caused his tongue to tingle any time Dane was near, fear caused him to tighten up. The urge to flirt, to give him “the look,” the invitation for sex, was so strong it was tough to control. There’d never been a man, much less a colleague, he’d wanted like this. He only had to make it until morning, he told himself. Their next shift wasn’t until Friday. With dismay, he remembered slow pitch and SAR would be on Saturday. He’d be with him four days out of seven. He exhaled and rolled onto his stomach. Hiding his feelings would be as treacherous as walking barefooted across sharp coral. As he let sleep take over, he willed himself not to have wet dreams tonight over Dane Garrison. That could happen at home. Not here. *

*

*

During the next shift, at two o’clock Saturday morning, the 23

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alarm sounded. A calm voice came over the public address system. “Brush fire, Rancho Canyon Road and Eggerton. Engine and truck.” Men poured out of their rooms, and the cushioned thud of brush fire boots landing at the foot of the brass pole filled the garage as the great doors rumbled open and the sweet night air rushed in. Emerson confirmed the call and location. As the engineer, Bear would drive the truck, and he signaled Dane to ride next to him. Emerson, Mel and Hal rode in back. Stowe drove the brush engine with Matson beside him. Red lights flashed and sirens broke the early morning stillness as the apparatuses rolled. Pulling up at the site, they leaped from truck and engine to pull on helmets, goggles, yellow slickers and pants. Smoke periodically blew in their direction, and the men tied scarves over their noses and mouths. Across the street, residents in pajamas and robes were trying to soak their roofs in case the winds whipped sparks onto them. The other danger was the parkway pine trees igniting. The sap in them could cause an explosion, sending even more sparks into the air. As Matson and Mel hauled the pumper engine’s hose down and sprayed the flames in large, sweeping arcs, some of the other men grabbed shovels and beat down remaining hot spots. A young man of about twenty in the tan uniform of a volunteer arrived, shovel in hand, excitement making his eyes wide. He reported to the captain before joining them. “Who’s that?” Dane asked Bear. 24

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“John Burrell. He’s been helping out for about six months. Wants to get into the fire academy, but there’s a waiting list.” He shook his head. “Knowing he’ll have a hell of a time finding an opening for a job somewhere once he’s graduated hasn’t seemed to discourage him.” “Do you think we ever looked that wide-eyed and excited at our early fires?” “I don’t know. I wasn’t looking at myself. That’s probably how I felt, however.” With Dane at his side, Bear conferred with the captain and hooked up the big truck to the fire hydrant to wet down house roofs and trees against the danger of sparks. They decided against attaching the hose to the ladder and lifting it. The height of the homes didn’t warrant it, so the hose would be held by hand. Bear and Dane took hold of it, and on Bear’s nod, the captain turned the hydrant on. It took both men to steady it under the force of the water. Intent on his job, Bear was still aware of Dane behind him, of the strength in those arms and legs added to his as they battled the powerful thrust of the water confined in the hose. He had a brief moment of wondering if Dane had ever thought of the cock-shaped nozzle and the liquid spurting from it and his own genitalia, and then his attention was back on his work. Emerson took Dane’s position at the hose, and Dane crossed the street to possibly determine the place where the fire had started. Then he came back to take notes as he interviewed the witnesses on the lawns. 25

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In two hours, the fire was out, and the captain drove the big truck and the other men back to the station. The engine was left as transportation for Bear and Dane. “This is where witnesses say it began.” Dane pointed to the southern end of the burn. “Let’s start there.” They slowly walked the breadth and length of the burn, searching for possible signs of arson. Dane clicked photos along the way. They retraced their steps to the south end. Bear would have missed it, but Dane knelt and brushed a latex-gloved hand over still-warm dirt at the far end of the blackened brush. “It was set.” Bear looked at the blackened, melted substance near the remains of the edge of a matchbook. “People toss trash into roadside brush. We often find matchbooks. It’s not necessarily a starter.” He wondered if this guy really knew what he was doing. “When you add this, it is.” Removing his glove, Garrison pulled the soft, circular substance up. “Paraffin.” Embedded in it were the remains of a fine wire with bits of burned fabric clinging to it. “This is a wick.” Bear realized he was looking at the remains of a candle. “Damn. A timed device.” A few yards later, they found another melted candle, a matchbook and the remains of what resembled white cigarette ash. It was another timed device. Dane slipped the evidence into manila envelopes. “How many other fires have you had recently?” “This time of year, most of our calls are medical, not fire, 26

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but this is the second in three months. An abandoned house went up, but Grogan didn’t think it was arson.” Dane nodded. “I’d like to take a look at that site later.” He climbed into the engine and Bear drove. When all the engines had been returned to the station, and wet hoses and outerwear had been hung to dry, the men headed to bed. “Mind if I shower?” Dane asked Bear. Showering to decontaminate, since you never knew what toxins and carcinogens were in smoke, was urged by every fire department. “Go ahead. I’ll wait until I’m home.” Clean, and dressed only in a towel fastened at the waist, Dane opened the door to Bear’s room. Bear turned at the sound, and inhaled sharply when he glimpsed a muscled chest, arms and legs. Dane’s black hair was tousled from having been towel dried, adding to his movie idol looks. Dark hairs emphasized arms and rounded pecs and began again just below his navel, beckoning to what the towel hid. Bear crossed his arms to hold in what he was feeling. “I thought you’d like to know I’m through in here.” “Thanks.” Bear’s tongue felt as thick as a slab of meat because he wanted to taste and feel this man so badly. Dane turned to walk into his room, and the towel came partway off just as he passed through his door. For a split second, Bear got a clear look at a taut left butt and a glimpse of a limp cock reclining on a tight cushion of black hair as Dane turned to shut his door. 27

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Lust raised its demanding head, and Bear ached all over…from chest to tightening balls and a dick now filling. With a groan, he fell face down on his bed, clenching his fists against the growing urge to sink himself, lose himself, and relieve his tension in this magnificent man. You’re in trouble. Big trouble. You’re studying for the captain’s exam, and Stamford is retiring, leaving an opening right here in station one. You can’t afford to blow it. You can’t afford to lose the men’s regard and be driven out like Grogan. The horror of maybe losing his right to fight fires as a professional swept through him, and lust died. *

*

*

Dane had shocked himself. Had he meant to remove the towel or had it just come undone? Was it a mistake or had he been unable to stop from showing off his body, cock and ass included, to a man he longed to pounce on? Either way, it’s a problem, you idiot. You’d better watch it from now on. This isn’t Seattle. Remember, you’re a gringo here and in the closet, too. Deadly combination. *

*

*

They’d slept until six, but, with only three hours of sleep, they both arrived grumpy for SAR training. The hounds sensed their moods and were difficult. They balked at searching, and Cinnamon began growling and snapping at Blood, and it wasn’t playful. They finally separated the dogs 28

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and calmed them down. “For a minute I thought we were going to have to call the Dog Whisperer,” Dane said, half in jest, half serious. “The thought cropped up in my mind, too,” Bear admitted, thinking of the man who could work with almost any difficult dog and bring them into what he termed a “calm, submissive state.” “Of course, you know what’d he’d say…” Dane nodded, fatigue clouding his usually cheerful face. “The problem lies with us. We’re the pack leaders. It’s up to us to let the dogs know what we want from them. If we can’t think clearly, we confuse them.” “You’ve got it.” It was easy to talk to Dane. They liked the same things and thought along the same lines. Bear loved that about him. Things went better after their discussion, but as soon as training ended, they left without eating lunch with the others. *

*

*

Bear felt better after food and a nap. He was ready for slow pitch and felt relief when he saw Dane pull up. They were in the dugout during the fifth inning, when Dane cried, “Oh, my God!” and strode out of it fast. It was at ground level, just a section cordoned off by the chain link fence that enclosed the field and ran behind the stands next to the dugout. Automatically, Bear, sensing his urgency—something that came from being trained in SAR and firefighting—moved, too, just as a child screamed. A boy of about ten had 29

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apparently climbed to the top of the stands and fallen. He was impaled, belly down, on the unguarded spikes of the chain link fence and was trying to pushing himself off. Dane must have seen he was going to fall. Bear matched his pace with Dane’s, moving fast but without panic to help the boy. Dane reached the boy just as Bear, on his heels, finished the 911 call. “Bring the bench!” Bear called to his teammates. Then he spoke in a soft voice to the boy to calm the terrified child. Dane had reached up to support the boy’s hips as best he could to reduce the pressure, and when they put the bench in place, he stood on it, slipping an arm under the boy’s chest and the other under his hips to prevent him from sinking farther down on the spikes. The mother had rushed over and was screaming in Spanish, fighting to get to her son. Bear restrained her with an arm around her shoulders and spoke softly to her while signaling for Refugio. Refugio’s face was so pale with fear as he approached them that later Bear told him he could’ve passed as white. “Tell her her son’s going to be all right. The paramedics are coming.” Refugio spoke rapidly to the frightened woman. She quieted only a little, and Bear was sure she was demanding the translator order them to remove her son from the spikes. In the distance, a siren cut through the air, heading in their direction. Dane looked at Bear, and Bear knew they were feeling the same gut-churning relief. 30

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Bear spoke to Refugio. “Let her know the man who’s holding her boy and I are emergency medical technicians with the fire department, and we know that lifting him off could cause bleeding inside his belly. It’s safer if the doctors remove those spikes.” That translation, with its mention of doctors, brought fresh wails and tears from the mother. Bear said, “She’s frightening her son, and he needs her to be calm. We don’t want him to move.” As Refugio translated, Bear watched mild tremors rippling through Dane’s arms from the awkward position and the strain of the boy’s weight. “Mike, take my place here so I can help Dane.” Without a word, Mike joined Refugio with the weeping mother. Bear stepped up on the bench. “Thanks,” Dane said. “I feel like a wuss.” “With those rocks for biceps? I don’t think so. It’s just the awkwardness of your position.” Since he was taller, he took the chest. They stood thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder, but because Bear had had to turn slightly to reach the kid, his cock and balls rested in the hollow of Dane’s left butt cheek. Dane shifted position now and then, and arousing sparks of electricity shot through Bear’s package. They stood so close together Bear wasn’t sure where he ended and Dane began. Andre Aciman’s book, Call Me by Your Name, flitted through his mind. It was the story of two lovers so deeply bonded they were almost one person. He could feel his dick hardening, and he forced himself to 31

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concentrate on the paramedic ambulance as it turned into the parking lot, spinning dust from its wheels and finally pulling up on the grass beside them. By the time the PMs had used bolt cutters to free the section of chain link sticking in the boy’s belly from the fence and had loaded him in the ambulance on a backboard and driven away, game time had ended. The Hornets were declared to have defaulted because Bear hadn’t called for a time out. “That damn ump,” Dane growled under his breath. Bear, who hadn’t recovered from the feel of Dane’s hip massaging his dick, merely nodded in agreement and added a curt, “Don’t worry. He’s just following the rules. We’ll win on appeal.” When Dane swung his arm about his shoulder and squeezed, with a, “We did good, partner,” Bear nodded and stepped fast out of the hold, but not before he saw disappointment sweep across the other man’s face. Was it possible he was gay? No. There was no way this muscled hunk was gay. He walked in his front door, and the need to fuck Dane, to feel his naked body pressed hard against his and sink his painful dick so deeply into his ass you could call him by Dane’s name and he would answer, made him head for his sex toys. Reaching to open the bedside stand where he kept them, he drew back. He could slide his cock into the sex tube lined with soft, flesh-colored silicone resembling an anus and frantically 32

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pump his way to orgasm, but it wouldn’t be enough. This need of his would haunt him every time he saw Dane unless he satisfied it with a human being. He needed to see Celeste. Celeste would welcome him. She’d let him ease his pain. After he’d checked with his neighbor to be sure he’d take care of Blood, he fed the hound, refilled his water dish and set the doggie door to open. He gave him a treat to chew on as he made his escape. The hound’s baying would irritate the neighbors if he realized he was being deserted. As it was, he contentedly chewed his bone in the back yard, while Bear slipped through the kitchen into the garage. Dressed in leathers and heavy boots, Bear pulled a full face helmet over his head before putting on gloves. The wind on the road to Vegas could freeze your face right off on a night like this. He pulled the motorcycle outside and shut the garage door. In seconds, he was on his black Kawasaki Ninja escaping temptation. They said everything stayed in Vegas. He was counting on it.

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CHAPTER 3 Soon he was streaking along the I-15 to Nevada, a dark figure in black, his head and face hidden as fully as a man in an iron mask, feeling powerful as he took control of a machine that left a trail of speed and noise in its wake as he battled the wind. When he reached Celeste’s, he locked his bike and removed gloves and helmet before entering the club. Heat and the smell of peanuts, spirits and men’s cologne, welcomed him. Pausing, he watched Norman, who was on stage singing an old torch song dressed in drag, the blue sequins on his gown a shifting mass of glints under the light as he moved. He had a show business voice, but as a woman impersonator he 34

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left much to be desired. It was why he only found work here and in other off-the-strip clubs. Clive accompanied him on the piano. Other men and a handful of women were watching and issuing catcalls. The club manager spotted him and started his way. Bear waved him off and went to the bar, where he ordered a beer. The bartender was new. When he set the sweaty bottle and a glass down on the counter, he leaned forward and lowered his voice. “You don’t belong in a place like this. You’ll be wanting the club a few blocks down.” Bear laughed. Like hell I don’t belong here. “I’m a friend of Celeste’s. Is she in?” He needed her. He’d come because he knew she’d understand his torment. She’d listen to his lament and take him in her arms, then she’d kneel and turn her soft, round butt cheeks to him and let him slide into her ass to ease his aching cock. In return, he’d stroke her pussy and use a dildo until she cried out, arching and clinging to him in release. They’d known each other a long time, having met in Louisiana in a club for gays and lesbians before he became a firefighter and moved to California. She knew what he was and was his friend. She’d founded this place for people like him. It was legal in this state, and, since he was only known here as her friend, it was safe to be what he was. He just had to hope Zanja City firefighters were never sent here to assist with a major fire. He might be recognized. The bartender shrugged. “Celeste’s rooms are on the second floor. Go on up and see for yourself.” 35

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Bear picked up his bottle and headed upstairs. Celeste furnished her club with nothing but the best. The hallway, with its thick carpeting and subdued lighting, created a soft ambiance that soothed. On his way to her rooms, he passed a man lounging in a doorway. With his handsomely boyish face and blond curls, he resembled a delicate Botticelli painting of a female. He was dressed in designer jeans and a pale blue, satin shirt that was perfect with his blond hair and flawless skin. “Looking for someone?” the young man asked. His voice was low and sultry, his pose languid. Inviting. The faint scent of a musky cologne wafted into the hall. Something stirred in Bear’s chest. The remembered taste of sex flooded his mouth. “Yes. Celeste.” He swallowed hard and kept walking. “I don’t think she’s in. You could finish your beer in here with me if she isn’t.” Bear said nothing. When she didn’t answer her door, he leaned into it, wanting to slam his fist against it in frustration. Instead, he fished a piece of paper and the stub of a pencil from his jacket pocket and scribbled, “Sorry I missed you. Love, Bear,” before sliding it under her door. The young man was still in his doorway. Only a single dim lamp burned in his room to backlight him. The glow heightened his beauty, creating shadowed valleys and reflected light across his face and body—created the illusion of a phantom man. He straightened, hooked his thumbs in the loopholes of his jeans, emphasizing the tight fabric over his 36

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not-insubstantial package. “She’s not in? Come drink with me.” His tone was pure fellatio to Bear’s cock. He tried to put one foot in front of the other and move past the door. Instead, he found himself pausing as need gripped him. I’ll just finish my drink and be on my way. It’s too early to start back, and I need a break from the bike. “My name’s Craig.” The warm hand extended to him had slender fingers with well kept nails. A gentle but firm tug pulled Bear into the room. Logic told Bear to leave and find a “normal” restaurant in which to have dinner instead of remaining here, but the stirrings in his groin were too strong. “Take off your jacket. It’s cold outside, but warm in here. If you wear it in here, it won’t protect you when you go outside.” “Yes, Mother,” Bear teased as he relinquished his jacket. Craig waved him to a chair. In the dim light, they sat and drank in silence. His host had wine, Bear sipped his beer, and, after a time, Craig said, “You’re not from around here.” “No. Celeste’s a friend. We go way back. It was stupid of me not to tell her I was coming. Maybe I can connect with her tomorrow.” Bear didn’t intend to be here tomorrow, but he wasn’t going to provide this stranger with information about himself. In the comfortable silence, they continued to drink until they’d finished, and Craig rose, took the bottle from him and put it away. Now he moved back with the fluidity of a tiger. 37

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Stalking. A beatific smiled spread across his boyish face. Sensing what might happen, Bear fought the urges threatening to take control of him as he started to rise, but Craig stepped behind him and pushed him down. Deft fingers began to massage his shoulders, working at knots that had developed from handling the big bike in heavy winds for hours. At first, Bear stiffened at his touch, and then, as the kinks gave way to relaxation, he put himself in Craig’s care. When the hands slid over his shoulders to pinch his nipples and hot lips pressed hard into his neck as a tongue danced over his skin, control fled. Turning, he grabbed Craig’s face and kissed him full on as desire unleashed in his groin and his cock rose, fighting against the restraints of leather. When Craig’s hand moved to his zipper and then under his boxers and onto his swollen cock, he growled low in the back of his throat as he spread his legs and let the feelings build. “You know what you’re doing, don’t you?” He could hardly get the words out over the sensations roiling in his body. “Oh, I do. I surely do, and you’re someone I want to do it with.” When Craig released him and took his hand to lead him to the bed, Bear switched off the light. They tore at each other’s clothes until he was bare and felt the man’s naked skin, knew it to be as soft as a Botticelli figure should be. “Are you ready for me?” he whispered against the voracious mouth and nipping teeth. 38

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“Yes.” A rustle, then he felt a warm tube of cream and a condom placed in his hand. “Top or bottom?” “Bottom.” Craig lay on his back and drew up his knees, his hands closing around Bear’s cock, gently pulling him until their penises touched. “God, you’re huge. No wonder they call you Bear. You’re going to fuck me good, aren’t you, big man?” Bear applied Craig’s condom, and almost came as Craig unrolled one on him. His fingers shook with arousal as he smeared cream over Craig’s anus, toyed with it until deep groans of anticipation issued from his partner and finally swirled a condom-protected finger in and around to dilate the tight sphincter. In the cloak of anonymity provided by the velvet blackness, he was glad he couldn’t see the man’s face as he eased his throbbing penis into the waiting man hole. Reaching in front of his cock to caress the sensitive area between where he’d entered him and Craig’s hanging balls, he waited until he felt the balls tighten and the other man groan and writhe before Bear slid his hands up the backs of his thighs. “Put your legs over my shoulders,” he ordered. When he felt their weight and Craig was pumping his own cock hard and fast with his hand, Bear gave way to passion and need. He gave himself up to the man’s tight heat. *

* 39

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Craig was sleeping when he left. For a moment he stood at the door, bills in hand to leave on the table, and then he put them back in his wallet. Craig would be insulted if he paid him. This hadn’t been business. It’d been two lonely guys, strangers, sharing a quiet drink and sex as gays did. He’d give the money to Celeste. She’d figure out a way to let him benefit from it without knowing it came from Bear. Maybe it could be a tip from a customer. In the bracing night air, he located a sports bar, locked his bike again and went inside to order a cheeseburger, malt and fries. While he waited, he popped some quarters in the Keno game in the center of the table. You couldn’t even eat a meal in this town without being tempted to gamble. He lost. In seconds. Typical, he thought, half amused, half in chagrin. He sank back, put his feet up and watched the TV monitors. Once his hunger had been satisfied and he could think again, he was annoyed with himself for what he’d done. Craig seemed like an okay guy, but it was always shallow to satisfy an itch with a stranger. There was no relationship, no love involved. When he’d finally recognized this, he’d stopped cruising. At least I wasn’t desperate enough tonight to slip back into the dangerous habit of holes in public bathroom stalls or a stranger in a dark alley. Everyone at Celeste’s has been tested, and she isn’t a female pimp. Damn it all to hell. Instead of being with Dane, he’d fucked Craig, but he still wished he’d been with Celeste. At least there, friendship would have been involved. 40

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Back outside, he strapped on his helmet, swung a leg over the Kawasaki, switched on the ignition and revved the motor before hitting the road to roar down it like black wind. *

*

*

After they’d rescued the boy, Dane had felt all was right with the world. He’d driven home with the memory of balls and a cock whose heat seared his flesh through two layers of pants as they swelled and hardened against his hip. The essence of what was Bear remained in his nostrils. Wordlessly working as a team, simply sensing what each had needed to do may have saved the boy from serious internal injuries. As the ambulance had driven off, he was so elated at what they’d accomplished, so filled with triumph and love for Bear, he’d given him a shoulder hug instead of a high five. And he’d been rebuffed. He’d felt the sudden tightening, the pulling away, and he’d immediately let him go. The stiffening cock must have had nothing to do with Dane, only with being stimulated. Cocks had a way of responding to stimulation, and he’d helped Bear’s along just a little with deliberate care. Rebuffed. Shit. Maybe I can’t stay here. Maybe I need to move back to Seattle. But the reality was firefighters loved their jobs and positions opened only when someone died, was permanently injured or retired. He’d given up a great job in Seattle to be an arson investigator in California’s sunshine, and it would be 41

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almost impossible to get another spot this soon in Washington. He was outgoing and made friends easily. Bear was quiet and reserved. He had to respect that. He’d keep his distance, let him have his space, and love him, lust for him from afar. That might not stop the mild start of tumescence his dick experienced whenever he was around the man, but it would have to do. The thought left a deep ache in his chest and an empty feeling in his groin. *

*

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Tuesday morning, he and Matson were assigned to wash the truck. They were in the back seat cleaning the windows when Matson said, “The captain’s golden boy drives this.” “The what?” “Barrington. He’s the favorite, the golden boy.” Remembering Emerson’s words that first day in front of the trophy case, Dane tamped down his annoyance. “I certainly haven’t seen that. Everyone pulls his weight here. Bear’s a pretty talented guy, but he doesn’t act superior or as if he thinks he’s favored. As far as I can tell, the captain treats everyone the same.” Matson snorted. “You think so? Emerson’s retiring, and it’s a given that Bear’ll take his place.” “I didn’t think he was a captain.” “He’s studying to take the exam for certification. You just wait. He’ll pass easy, and no one else will have a chance for the job here.” 42

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“I take it you’re studying, too?” It was just a scary guess. From what little Dane had seen of this man, his attitudes made him ambitious, but unfit to hold a command position. “Yep. My only hope is for something to open up at another station house.” “Maybe you’ll be surprised about Bear.” Matson sneered. “You haven’t been around long enough to see how things work here.” Afraid he’d lose his cool, he said, “I’m finished. I’ll start on the outside.” After this, he planned to avoid personal conversations with Matson as much as possible. He spent the rest of the morning studying the former arson investigator’s reports on the house that had burned. He received permission to take Bear with him that afternoon to look at the site. To his surprise and disappointment, Bear declined. “I’m sorry. I have work to do here.” Dane frowned, but decided not to push it. He shrugged. “I thought it would be good to have someone who’d been here when the fire started. You were one of the men who fought it, but maybe you can suggest someone else.” “Matson was there.” He suppressed a shudder. “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass on Leon. If you can, I’d like to talk to you after I’ve seen the site.” He felt relief when Bear agreed. Despite the excuse, he wondered if Bear avoided being alone unless it was absolutely necessary. He guessed he’d really blown it with that exuberant hug, but he wasn’t sure why. Some people didn’t like to be 43

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touched, but Bear shook hands, high-fived, let the gals hug him and the men clap him on the back. So why had he moved away from Dane? It was a puzzle he couldn’t take time to solve right now. He drove the brush engine to the burned house and pulled up to study the ruins of the small structure before getting out. It sat alone in a wide expanse of land a couple of miles north of the freeway, a mass of ashes and the blackened remains of walls and beams. A slight wind sent tumbleweeds rolling along. Snow had fallen in the mountains, and the wind was sharp and biting. It had been a one-story building, a single family dwelling. The sections of the roof that hadn’t burned had collapsed. The remains of a blackened, overstuffed couch and chairs sat in what he guessed was the cramped living room. Not doubt transients had slept there. According to the reports, the fire department had had permission from the owner, who lived out of state, to burn the structure as a practice exercise. Something, or someone, had beaten them to it, possibly wanting the excitement of fire and thinking it didn’t matter if it burned prematurely. At least that was the kindest spin he could put on it. He got out and walked through the ruins. Grogan’s report had listed the cause as faulty wiring. That was possible, but Dane conducted his search anyway. He began by checking the remains of the couch and an old mattress, where a drunk or an addict might have fallen asleep with a cigarette or caused the fire while heating up heroin or crystal meth to mainline. 44

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Sitting on his haunches, he studied the area around him. He found no signs the fire had ignited here. Moving through the other rooms, it was in the kitchen he finally found what he’d been looking for. In the rubble where the kitchen counter had collapsed, he spotted the charred remains of a thick, terry cloth kitchen towel and a flat ring of melted candle, wicking and a scrap of a scorched matchbook cover. He was sure the candle had been left on the counter to burn down until the flame ignited the towel. Shreds of flammable curtains hung from a rod above the window at the sink, and the fire from the towel had probably licked up to envelope them. Thankfully, no derelict had been found burned to death here. Shaking his head at the sick thing someone had done, he stood to take photos. Then he put on gloves and picked up and bagged the evidence. Back at the station house, he sought Bear out. “Can we talk some place alone?” They entered a small conference room, and Bear shut the door. Dane spread his findings on the table. “The original report lists faulty wiring as the cause. How could Grogan have missed these? This is arson investigation one-oh-one!” Bear stared at the evidence a long time before letting out a sigh. “I don’t know. He was a good investigator, but, remember, he didn’t have the evidence you found at the brush fire. It looks like the same arsonist, doesn’t it?” Dane agreed. “He was going through a bad patch at the time. Something in his personal life. I felt sorry for the guy. I know his mind 45

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wasn’t on his job like it had been, and he resigned not long after this fire. No one knows where he went or if he stayed in firefighting.” “Do you think these fires are his work and that’s why he quit?” Bear frowned. “Grogan a fire bug? Once in a rare while you hear of one in firefighting, but Grogan? No. I’d be shocked if he was. Besides, he was on duty here when this fire started, and, judging from the size of that puddle, the candle wouldn’t have burned long enough for it to have been lit before he reported for work.” “Okay. I’ll take these to the captain, but I think we’ll keep this quiet for a while. I need to go over my interview notes from the brush fire and review Grogan’s report again.” Bear agreed. “This was a pretty deserted area. Who called it in?” “John, our volunteer. He was new to us then. He said he’d been at Land of the Pharaohs, a former theme park that had gone belly up. It’s small compared to Disneyland or Magic Mountain, but it’s all we have out here. Waterslides, Ferris wheel, rides, that sort of thing. The new owners had been working on it, and he’d swung by to see if it had re-opened. He says he spotted the fire from there. It had just flared up.” Dane jotted this down. “Not to change the subject, but Winthrop called while you were out. You and I pull twenty-four here Saturday, so we can’t make it to SAR. He’d like us to take the dogs and drive into the mountains Sunday to pick out a new training spot. 46

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I’ve gotten the okay from the forestry service’s battalion chief to search along the fire road for a good place, and we can use the SAR vehicle. It’s got four-wheel drive and is fully equipped.” “Isn’t it pretty cold up there? There’s snow on the ground.” “I know. It’s late for this time of year, but it’s great for the ski resort. It’ll be relaxing, and the dogs’ll love it. No pressure, just kicking back. It’ll be fun.” A hot tide rose under Dane’s skin as he pictured what he’d consider “fun” with Bear. He looked into those jade-green eyes, and they didn’t shy away from him this time. Bear was smiling. For a split second, Dane could have sworn he’d lowered his lashes and swept his gaze down to Dane’s feet, following up his body to his face. It was so close to “the look” that the tide surfaced and rolled over Dane, threatening to cause him to respond in kind. He knew some people considered him good looking, and even non-gay men sometimes looked him up and down. It took all the discipline he had not to respond to Bear. *

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They’d slept through the night at the firehouse, and a rested Bear went home to do chores and feed Blood. He picked Dane up at his apartment around noon. Heat feathered through his chest and his heart rate picked up as it always did at the sight of him. He was so happy to be alone with Dane he could have hugged him, but he didn’t. Cinnamon’s tail wagged as she waited for her turn to get 47

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in. Dane tossed his backpack in the luggage area next to Bear’s. SAR had taught them never to go into the mountains unprepared. Soon the two exuberant dogs were in the seat behind the wire mesh that prevented them from climbing in front. They each found a spot at a window. Bear wished he could open a window so they could hang their heads out and let the wind blow in their faces, but not only was it too nippy, something might fly into their eyes. “The weather report says there’s a chance of snow,” Dane said, as he swung up into the passenger seat. “We’ll be home before it does. If it does. Meteorologists are notoriously wrong. It’s late, but have you had lunch?” “Nope.” “Good. There’s a great place in Flowing Brook.” On the drive up the mountain, Dane asked if Bear had ever been married. “Nope. Haven’t even come close. I’ve always wanted a family, but now my friends from ball, the search team and the firefighters are my family. Some of the guys are married and have kids. What about you?” “I came close once, but I realized in time what a mistake it would be. Deidre and Carole tell me you have a girlfriend.” Bear laughed. “That would be Celeste Rawlings. They love to bug me about popping the question, but Celeste and I aren’t that kind of friends. We met before I moved to California, and it was by chance I hooked up with her in Las Vegas. She owns a club there off the strip.” 48

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Arriving in Flowing Brook, they let the dogs out, then popped them back in the sport utility vehicle and cracked the windows an inch. They were wearing coats and would be warm enough. “This place is a little run down, but they have great steaks here. Would you like one? Salad with it? Wine or beer?” “Steak sounds good, and salad. I’ll have wine. Drinking beer all the time gets a little old.” Bear couldn’t take his eyes off Dane as they ate, watching his mouth, knowing if he kissed him now how intoxicatingly mild and sweet the Merlot would taste as it mingled with the lingering flavor of charcoal broiled steak. Here he didn’t have to worry about drinking in his fill of this fascinating man. Because of the dogs, they didn’t linger over the meal. Dane pulled out his wallet, but Bear grabbed the tab first. “This is on me. I learned yesterday I’ve been certified as a captain.” Dane reacted as he knew he would—with a hoot and a smile that spread across his entire face. He reached across the table for a high-five. “I suppose we should be bumping chests like he-men, but this will do. God, but I’m proud of you. You’ll be the best. You must feel like I did when I passed my arson investigator’s exam. When did you find out?” “Emerson told me while you were at the arson site. No one else knows. I wanted you to be the first, and I didn’t want to tell you there.” He’d wanted it to be a private triumph shared only with Dane. “No wonder you seemed happy yesterday. Matson told me 49

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you were studying for it, but I had no idea you were this close. Do you think you’ll get Emerson’s spot when he retires?” Bear thought about Matson, hoping he’d get passed over. “I’d like it, but every applicant has an equal chance. They go strictly by the job description for filling the positions. Someone outside the department might be better qualified.” Dane snorted. “I doubt that. Damn, but I’m happy for you.” Dane put an arm around his shoulder and gave him a hug as they walked to the car. This time Bear didn’t move away. It was too rare for it to be just the two of them. He’d decided to let down his guard a little and enjoy their time together. It might be the only time they’d have like this. Ever. The fire road ran well below the end of the resort’s black diamond ski run, and they could see skiers finishing the run and snow plowing over to the lift. Puffy white clouds drifted through a now threatening sky as they parked a ways up the road. They put the dogs’ snowshoes on and let them loose, then watched as they gamboled in the snow. Blood and Cinnamon chased each other, slipping in the icy patches, pawing at the snow, sticking their noses in it and pulling back fast at its coldness, while the men laughed at their antics. Their owners walked side by side, not worrying if their shoulders touched. After a time, they began to locate good hiding spots. When Dane sneaked a handful of snow down the back of Bear’s ski jacket, he yelled, grabbed up his own snowball and gave chase. Eventually, panting from running in 50

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the high altitude, they ended up bent over, hands on their knees as they laughed and tried to catch their breath. It had been years since Bear had felt this free, this boyish, with another man. This safe. Dane lifted his face to the sky. Heavy white flakes landed on it. “I think the weatherman hit the jackpot.” In their exuberance, they hadn’t noticed it was snowing. With reluctance, Bear knew the wonderful outing was over. They loaded the dogs in the car and headed toward the main road. They were nearing the ski run when Bear heard it—a roar that seemed to split the mountain—and knew what had happened. “Stop! Avalanche!” Bear’s foot stomped hard on the brake even as Dane warned him, and the vehicle fishtailed to a halt on the icy road. They were scrambling out of the car, and Bear, his head pounding from fear, was reaching for the back door to free the dogs when the white mass swooshed past, pushing snow over the back of the car to the window. Dane stood with his gaze on the mountain. Bear wondered why he hadn’t come for Cinnamon, when he heard, “Snowboarders! Two buried not far from us. Notify 911 we have the dogs. I’ll keep my eyes on the spot where they went down.” Goosebumps covered Bear’s arms as he radioed 911. Chances for survival without injuries were high if they could 51

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find and dig out them out in fifteen minutes. Even at half an hour the outcome would be favorable. If it took an hour, chances of serious injury like losing a toe or finger increased. Radio on his shoulder, he readied the dogs with rescue vests and leashes as he gave their coordinates and information to the dispatcher. When he hung up, he fastened the snowshoes back on the dogs. He signaled Dane, who’d continued to walk up the mountain parallel to the slide. Dane whistled and Cinnamon raced to him, eager to do her thing. Bear grabbed two shovels, and moved out with Blood at a brisk pace. When Dane reached the closest point to where the victims might be, he commanded Cinnamon to search. Her nose was in the air as she moved onto the soft snow of the slide. “Up ahead about fifty yards,” Dane said as he accepted a shovel from Bear and followed his dog onto the snow. With a “Go, Boy,” Bear sent Blood to search, and the big hound put his nose to the snow and moved up the hill, his legs and feet sinking in. Bear wished he and Dane had snowshoes on. They could’ve moved faster and not sunk in as deep as they were doing in boots. It was tough going. They were getting wet to the knees. Because of Bear’s call, the ski patrol knew where they were and would reach them soon. Wet, slushy snow was falling heavily now. Cinnamon began to dig, but she hadn’t alerted. That meant she smelled something, but was unsure of the actual location. Digging would bring her closer to the scent. Dane waited 52

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about ten feet away, as she dug a little here, moved to another spot not far away and dug again. Blood had an easier time of it. It was only minutes before he sat and bayed. Bear rushed to him and began to shovel. Blood continued to paw at the site alongside him as Bear called out to the victim, “We’ve found you. Just hold on. We’re digging you out and the ski patrol will be here any minute.” Cinnamon alerted, and Dane began to shovel, reassuring his victim, telling him they were on the search and rescue team and the dogs had found them. They had just uncovered the faces and necks of two teenage boys when the swoosh of a toboggan pulling up caught Bear’s attention. “Hooray, the troops are here, guys,” Dane shouted as the patrollers joined them in shoveling. Just over fifteen minutes and they’d freed the young victims. The female ski patrol leader said to the teens, “Riding out of bounds like you were, you’re lucky these men with the search dogs saw you go under. We need to warm you up and get to you to a doctor, so, I’m sorry, but we can’t take time to retrieve your boards. You’ll have to wait for the snow to melt for that.” As the patrollers took over, Dane summoned Cinnamon to his side and praised her, while fishing in his pocket for a doggie treat. Blood bayed long and loud in his excitement over the find. The patrollers laughed. Bear scratched him behind his ears and 53

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planted a kiss on his wet head. “Come on, we need to get you warm, too.” Blood looked expectantly at him with sad eyes. “Don’t worry. I have a treat for you in the car.” At the sound of the word “treat,” Blood ran alongside Bear to the car. The snow was falling faster as they toweled off the dogs in the SUV after removing their wet shoes and vests. The patrol team had left with the rescued boys before Bear realized the slide had completely blocked the road to the main highway. They couldn’t get out that way. They had to shovel snow away from the car to free the rear end. He turned around and drove toward the new search-andfind spot, but realized the fire road dead-ended about a mile farther on. Fingers of fear wrapped around him. “Call the dispatcher. Tell them it’s growing dark, it’s snowing and the temperature’s falling. We can’t get out until the snow plow clears the f’ing road.” The dispatcher put them on hold, and it was several minutes before she returned to tell them the snowplow would be there in the morning. “We can’t sleep in the car,” Dane yelled at her. “You’ve got to get help for us and the dogs.” He waited again, and when she put a forestry service battalion chief on the line, he handed it to Bear because he knew the area. Bear talked and then shut the radio down. “There’s an abandoned shack of some kind we can use. It’s stocked with wood for the fireplace, but the water and electricity will be turned off. Thank God the SAR vehicles are always stocked 54

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with water and we have food.” They were both wet by the time they’d located the shack, had radioed in their location and that they were safe. They carried in supplies and food. There was a small kitchen area, and a tiny bathroom with a toilet, but no furniture. Bear took wood from a huge stack in the main room and started a fire in the big stone fireplace. He poured water into a pot and stirred in powdered coffee before setting it near the fire. He noticed Dane was shivering as he set out food and water for the dogs. Bear was chilled but not shivery; he was stockier and had more fat on him. Dane set up the dog’s small tent near the fireplace. He shoved a bed inside and the dogs curled up together. “They’ll keep each other warm.” “Who’s going to keep us warm?” Bear said as he rummaged in his backpack for food. By the time they’d eaten cold rations, they at least had a cup of hot coffee. “We need to zip the sleeping bags together,” Bear said. “We’ll have to keep each other warm just like the dogs.” By then, Dane was shivering so hard he couldn’t manage the zipper. “Here, let me do that.” Bear zipped them up. “We’ll warm up faster if we sleep together and our warmth combines inside the down bags, but we need to keep them dry. Take off those wet clothes and get in, then lie on your belly.” Here was his chance to see Dane naked. His gut swirled at the thought, but he was worried about those shivers and he 55

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forced himself to turn his back and give him privacy. “You in?” “Yes.” It was said through chattering teeth. Bear spread his partner’s clothes out to dry, then knelt and briskly rubbed Dane’s back, arms and legs through the sleeping bag to warm him with friction. In time, the shivers stopped, and relief rushed through Bear. “Better?” “Yeah. Thanks.” “Not a problem. I’m not into sleeping with corpses.” Dane chuckled. Bear tossed more wood on the fire, and held out his hands to flames that danced orange and blue. He clenched his fists. Why is it he had to be a man? Men thought about sex way too much of the time, and sleeping naked next to a nude Dane without touching him would be the most difficult challenge of his life. But he couldn’t get in with wet clothes, the fire wasn’t warming the room enough to sleep outside the bag, and he was too exhausted not to sleep. Sitting down, he pulled his boots off with reluctance. He stood, still facing the fire, and unzipped his jacket. He heard movement and thought the dogs were shifting in their sleep. He froze when he heard Dane say, “Here, let me help you with that.” Bear thought he’d never take another breath again. Electricity shot through him, sparking his naughtiest senses to life. All he had to do was turn, and he’d see what every sensual nerve in him had clamored to see from the first moment he’d looked into those smoky eyes. The few 56

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tantalizing glimpses he’d gotten at the firehouse had only fanned the fires of desire higher. Dane pulled off the jacket. It landed on the floor with a soft swish and hands tugged his shirt out of his pants. “Raise your arms.” Bear could feel Dane’s breath on his neck, and he shut his eyes against the warm tide that rose inside and lapped against the barrier his heart had built, almost engulfing him. He raised his arms, even as he told himself how dangerous this was. He couldn’t stop himself. He heard the muted sound of the shirt joining the jacket. Warm hands stroked Bear’s shoulders. A cheek was laid against his back, and he felt the faint stubble of facial hair. By morning there’d be a sexy five o’clock shadow. He felt his cock finish filling. “Are you trying to seduce me, Dane?” It came out in a whisper. “Damn right. I’m pretty sure you gave me the look today, but if you want me to stop, say so now. I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you.” Bear couldn’t have spoken if his life had depended on it. Dane’s voice was thick with desire as he nuzzled the nape of Bear’s neck and his hands strolled down his spine and squeezed his ass. “Do you know your skin has no scent? Blood could pick it up, but I can’t. I’ll carry the memory of a strong, clean man with me for a long time.” His voice dropped low, became rough. “But when we’ve finished making love, the smell of my cum will be on you and yours will mingle 57

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with mine. That’s the scent that’ll be imprinted on both our brains. I want to fuck you, Robert Barrington, and I think you want to fuck me, too.” Joy flooded him. Bear couldn’t repress the hoarse sounds that escaped his throat as Dane reached around to unbuckle his belt and carefully slide the zipper down over his bulging package. He inhaled quick and sharp as Dane grazed his cock in tugging down his pants. Crazed with want and hot with need, Bear’s hands shook as he pushed down his boxers and stepped free of pants and shorts. “You were careful not to look when I undressed. Did you want to, Bear? If you’d wanted to when I lost my towel in the station house, you didn’t. Or if you did, I didn’t catch it.” “Oh, I looked all right. I was afraid I’d have wet dreams that night.” Bear couldn’t keep the rasp out of his voice, couldn’t halt—didn’t want to halt—the throbbing in his dick. “Look now. See all of me, and let me see all of you.” Bear turned slowly and drank in the beauty of a sculpted body whose sinewy muscles were hard as stone and so developed that, just as he’d seen on Dane’s arms, the veins stood out all over it like a drawing by Michelangelo. He’d seen the strength in those arms as they’d handled the force of a fire hose on flames, seen the intellect at work when it picked up the telltale trails of arson and the kind spirit as he’d responded to a hurt child. Now he saw a cock dripping hungrily with the juices of sex, pointing straight at his belly. Flickering light danced over the trim, angular planes, and 58

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Bear’s gaze wandered to the dark swath of hair that began at the navel and traveled down to the mystery between his hips from which his hard-on jutted. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Talk about beautiful. You’re just as I imagined you’d be from seeing the fine hair on your arms. Now I see thick, sandy-colored hair across a broad chest and down your belly to a big cock primed and ready for me. I’m glad you haven’t shaved there. I hate that. Come to me, Bear. Touch me. Love me.” With a low cry, Bear crushed Dane against him, reveling in the low hum of passion in his partner’s body as they came together. Their swollen, wet cocks met and rubbed against each other as they gyrated their hips in a dance of frantic foreplay that brought pleasure and built toward joy. When they kissed, it was at first soft and persuasive, but when Dane opened his mouth and Bear thrust his tongue in, the kiss turned hard and ravaging with a hunger denied too long, too safely. They reached for each other, stroking and thumbing dicks until Dane gasped and thrust fast, straining against Bear’s palm while increasing his strokes on Bear. When Bear felt the spasms begin in his lover, he pushed harder and harder into Dane’s fisted hand and together they reached the frantic, tumultuous peak that rocked them both and almost brought them to their knees. Knees weak but holding, they slid down the other side of the peak, exhausted and hunger sated. When the sexual storm had cooled, Bear said, “It’s a good 59

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thing we didn’t make it into the bag.” He was rewarded with Dane’s chuckle against his lips. “We didn’t, did we? Maybe we’d better climb in before we’re both shivering.” Bear pulled a cloth from his backpack and cleaned Dane off before tending to himself. Once inside the bag and just before drifting off, Dane said, “Did you know you still have your socks on?”

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CHAPTER 4 In the deep night, Dane moved closer and settled himself against Bear, waking him while Bear slept on his stomach. The heat from his body, his very nearness, tantalized and beckoned. Knowing what was coming because of what they’d shared, when his hand slid over Bear’s buttocks and down the crack to finger him there, then brushed down an inner thigh, he finally mobilized himself to whisper, “Again?” “Again. And always.” Dane’s lips were near his ear, and his breath was fiery against it. His hand moved up the thigh and gently squeezed the balls resting between Bear’s legs, then reached under them to fondle the tip of his cock. “I’ll stop if you want, and we’ll pretend this never happened. But I think 61

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you want this as much as I do.” Bear steeled himself against the liquid heat flicking at his core like a volcano threatening to erupt. He held his breath against the sigh of pleasure that wanted to escape. Slowly, the sliding changed to rubbing, rubbing that spread down the long muscles of his back, pausing just where the rise of his buttocks began as if that were forbidden territory and private. Private? That’s a laugh. Bear thought he’d pass out from lack of air. He could tell Dane to stop, should tell him, but although he willed himself to do it, he remained silent. Instead, he let himself enjoy Dane’s touch. If it didn’t go any farther than this, he was safe. Which was crazy, because it had already gone farther than this, and he’d loved it. That was the problem. He mustn’t get used to this, be hungry for it. There was no future for them. “Oh, God,” Bear said, as Dane reached for his hip and rolled him onto his side. Dane curled up behind him, and his stiffened dick pressed and dipped against his butt. He rubbed the arch of his foot the length of Bear’s calf, settling on a foot, which he stroked and played with. When he reached over and clasped Bear’s now pulsing, dripping cock, Bear pushed his hand away, and, with an almost animal-like growl, turned to face him and captured those full lips with his. The kiss wasn’t ravaging as it had been earlier. This time it was soft and tentative, as if each wanted to extend this gentler phase of courtship. Dane started to roll onto his back, but Bear’s hand 62

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tightened on his hip to stop him. “No. Let me touch you. I’ve wanted to do it for so long—to touch and taste you—and now I’ve got you where I want you.” His mouth and tongue explored as he sensed Dane fighting to let him without climaxing. When his mouth closed over Dane’s penis and began to milk it, Dane squirmed and, then, with a groan from deep in his chest, he grabbed Bear’s head. “Enough or I’m going to explode. Top or bottom?” Gentle foreplay turned into a wrestling match, and then the larger man relented, and Dane rose over Bear to flick his tongue at nipples that hardened and rose, teasing him by taking his cock in hand, dancing the head over Bear’s chest and stomach, dipping into his belly button and then paying careful attention to the sensitive under-lip of Bear’s dick. Like an artist with a brush, he stroked the skin behind his balls and circled his man hole with it, marking his territory by leaving a path of his juices along the way. Low guttural sounds issued from Bear’s throat and, unable to hold back any longer, he clutched at Dane’s hips as he drew his knees up and pulled him down. Dane rocked gently in, wooing and probing, gauging his thrusts by the sounds of pleasure from his lover. The backs of his fingers ran up Bear’s inner thighs and Bear put his legs over his shoulders and sighed as Dane’s hand wrapped around his aching dick, slick from pre-cum, to tug it fast, up and down, to match his own thrusts. Caught in the throes of the rush of feelings sweeping him in its torrent toward the cataract that would plunge him into 63

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the only sensations that could bring him sweet relief, Bear felt pierced by the difference between this and his encounter with the Botticelli man. That had been sex. This was so much more, so much deeper his heart swelled with aching. *

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The dogs were stirring. Wet tongues lapped at the men’s faces, and Bear stumbled to the door naked to let them out. Patches of blue sky showed. The snow had stopped. He shoved more wood on the red embers from the fire, and as he reached for his boxers, he burst out laughing. Emerging from the sleeping bags, Dane asked, “What’s so funny?” “I’m still wearing my socks.” Dane wrapped his arms around him from behind and laid his head on his shoulder as they rocked together laughing. Then he nuzzled his neck and said, “Good morning.” “Good morning.” Bear’s fingers caressed Dane’s cheek before he leaned over to pick up his boxers. As they ate breakfast, Dane said, “Does anyone down below know?” Bear knew he was asking if anyone in the valley knew he was gay. He shook his head. “It’s tough to hide it, isn’t it? That wasn’t as important in Seattle, but I still didn’t advertise. Or give anyone the look. How do you manage that here?” Bear thought for a moment, then said, with a smile, “All you need to do is get yourself an out-of-state girlfriend.” 64

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*

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It was almost noon before the snowplow had cleared the road for them. They’d snuffed out the fire in the shack and packed up their crumbs and trash. The sleeping bags had been separated and rolled up tight, and they’d played with the dogs. As they closed the door, Dane took Bear’s hand and they walked to the car. They heard the plow working the other side of the slide, and before they could be seen, they turned in unison to hug each other one last time and kiss slowly and deeply. When they drew apart, still holding hands, a sadness flashed across Bear’s face that Dane didn’t understand because the happiness he felt inside was still huge and warm. They released hands just as a honk signaled the snowplow was cresting the slide. They were no longer touching when they reached the SUV. Bear turned the key over and the battery fired right up. “Thank heavens for that.” What they hadn’t expected when they reached the main road was the crowd of bystanders and the press awaiting them. They were heroes. Bear frowned. “Aw, come on, it’s good publicity for SAR. We may get new members and new money. We gotta do this.” The photographers posed them side by side, but Dane sensed Bear’s discomfort with them in such close proximity. When he insisted they kneel with the hounds between them and the sports utility vehicle, with its snow-covered roof, in the background, Dane approved. 65

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“They’re the heroes,” he said, nodding toward the dogs. The journalists agreed. Bear seemed to close in on himself once they were in the car. Dane wanted to stop for lunch, but his companion wanted to get home. When he drew up in front of the apartment and Dane squeezed his thigh in an intimate gesture of goodbye since he dared not kiss him, Bear didn’t respond. A chill threaded through Dane. Was Bear just tired, or had he made a dreadful mistake in seducing him? He retrieved his backpack and scratched Blood’s head as he let Cinnamon out. Bear still wouldn’t look him in the eyes. “We did a good thing yesterday, partner. Two kids are alive because of what our dogs did for them. We had something to do with it, too.” Bear nodded. “See you at work.” Again, the nod and then Bear drove away. He didn’t even wave. Bear regretted what they’d done. Dane’s feet felt like lead as he walked to his door. His heart threatened to shatter. *

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Life went on as if the passionate interlude in the mountains had never occurred. Dane noticed Bear had lost some weight, and although he was as considerate to him as he was to everyone else, there were no quiet smiles or secret touches, and he wouldn’t answer his personal phone or return Dane’s messages. If Dane appeared at his door, it was never 66

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answered. Dane backed off. But he found himself looking at the other guys of their acquaintance with gut-wrenching jealousy. Had Bear shared the same hot, explosive moments with any of them? Had he then shut them out like he was shutting Dane out now? He’d known of men in Seattle who that had happened to. He’d also known men who lived together in what was supposed to be a monogamous relationship, and thought nothing of cheating with former lovers. That kind of life wasn’t for him. He wanted one man in his life, for a lifetime. And that man was the newly certified captain, Robert Barrington. But it seemed that wasn’t what Bear wanted. That he was gay wasn’t in question. He’d known the look and all the moves. Maybe he was a cruiser as Dane had once been. As he lay tossing sleeplessly in bed in the station house one night, keenly aware that the man he loved lay in the next room, he flashed back to the hours he’d shared with Bear in the mountain shack. When the snowplow had honked, and he and Bear had kissed, sadness had flitted across Bear’s face. It came to him with perfect clarity. In Bear’s mind, their relationship had ended with that kiss because there was no way he’d risk either of them being exposed. Damn you, Robert Barrington, no wonder you’re losing weight and I’m losing sleep. You can’t make love with me and then ignore me. He was Dane Garrison. Why in hell was he sniveling over this when he should be doing something about it? 67

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*

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Bear felt a depth of pain he’d never experienced before. The hours in the cabin and rescuing the teenagers beside Dane had been the most meaningful of his life, but now the only way to survive was to protect the two of them behind a stone wall of reserve. In the fire house, when Dane had asked if they could talk alone about the arson case, he’d even left the door open. Dane had looked so good to him his heart had turned over. He knew the taste of those lips now, the feel of his hard prick in his hands and inside him. When Dane brushed his hair back as it fell over his forehead in the way he always did, Bear wanted to draw him into his arms and kiss his eyes, his cheeks and mouth. To fuck him. Instead, he took a slow, deep breath. Dane looked at him for a long moment, seeming to drink him in with that direct gaze of his. His mouth tightened with a half smile that lifted one corner a bit higher than the other—a smile promising mischief. Before Bear could figure out the meaning of that smile, it disappeared. Dane went straight to business. “I think our suspect is John Burrell. I have a witness who saw his truck earlier that morning on Rancho Canyon Road, and since he was the one who called in the house fire, that places him in the vicinity at the right time to have set both fires.” “You need to work with Zanja City PD on this now. Starting fires is a crime. Tell Emerson first, and he’ll put you in touch with the best person to contact.” 68

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“Thanks,” Dane said, and, although he kept his face expressionless, those smoky eyes gazed directly into his. Bear’s heart blossomed with emotion because he got the message—thanks for more than the advice just offered. The next day, Celeste called. “Hey, my hunk of a firefighter, I’m sorry I missed you. My new friend and I were on a little trip together. I got the money you sent for Craig and figured out a way to get it to him without naming you. Why don’t you come up and see me this week? I’m having a few friends over.” Bear couldn’t wait to get there. *

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Once more, the warmth of the club after the cold ride on the Ninja welcomed Bear. He was relieved to find the door to Craig’s room closed as he walked past on his way to Celeste’s suite. Had he been there, it would have been awkward. He hoped the guy had found someone like Dane because it would be easy to love him openly here. Celeste, dressed in a silk caftan of bright jewel colors that flattered her dark looks and covered a body Bear knew would be nude with a tight ass awaiting him, welcomed him with a hug and a kiss on his cheek. “Bear! Come in. I’ve missed you.” Her heavy perfume, perfect for her gypsy looks, enveloped him as his lips brushed her soft cheek in return. The familiar scent was like a balm to his troubled soul. He felt his spirits lift. He was safe here. He could be himself. 69

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In celebration of his having reached the rank of captain, they drank champagne from crystal flutes, while sitting nude in the spa off her living room. White candles flickered in the room, while below them the lights of Vegas twinkled like a salacious Disneyland. The pungent scent of white magnolias floating in low glass vases tickled his nose. Beethoven played softly in the background. The warm jets pummeled the knots in his muscles. His soft dick floated an inch above his groin, and the bubbling waters teased Celeste’s generous breasts, her dark nipples riding with their motion. While he recognized most men and lesbians would love to fondle and tease them, Bear had no desire to touch them. To him they were just breasts. Nice breasts, and he was happy for Celeste that she had them, but they held no appeal for him. The thought of sucking them brought mild queasiness. As they toweled off, she said, “The voudrais is open tonight. Would you like to go down? My other friends are already there. I waited for you.” Je voudrais…I want. The rooms where sexual encounters occurred in deep shadow with participants masked for secrecy. Adulterous, gay, lesbian, ménage, trans, bondage…whatever your fancy, from the darkest wish of the darkest heart to just plain consensual sex, but always with a safe word that meant “Stop.” It had been a long time. It fit his mood. He nodded and slipped into the thick, terry cloth robe she always provided. When he told her his preference, she asked “RACK or SSC?” 70

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“SSC.” She dialed an in-house phone and spoke softly. They rode the elevator in her suite down together. As they entered the dark foyer of the voudrais, they each pulled a narrow band of a mask with slits for seeing across their eyes from a large metal bowl and put them on. “Third door on the right,” she directed Bear and drifted off to her own choice. His bare feet sank into luxurious black carpeting where a trail of minuscule lights led to the various rooms. He entered his, following the lights to the dark form of a comfortable couch. He replaced his mask with one without slits, then sat and spread his arms across the couch, letting his head drop back to rest, enjoying what the spa had done for him. The room was warm and fragrant with an exotic scent he couldn’t identify. He’d almost dozed off when he heard a crack as if from a whip and a voice said, “You’ve been naughty, haven’t you?” The voice was hard, accusative. At the sound of the whip, a sexual shudder rippled down his spine. Bear responded, thinking of how almost daily he shunned the man he loved. If it hurt Dane as much as it did him, he deserved what would happen next. “Naughty. And mean.” “Stand. You must be punished.” His core tightened as sensations shot through to his cock and it began to thicken. Guessing at the routine, for he’d never done bondage before, Bear answered, “Only a little punishment, disciplinarian.” 71

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The robe was pulled from his back, and he stood naked. “Kneel, head on the ground.” Grateful for the soft carpet where his head rested, he felt a foot in a soft boot press on the back of his neck, not too hard, but enough to indicate serious business. “Do you submit?” “I do.” “Stand up!” A light collar with a chain attached to it was fastened around his neck. For a moment he felt an almost claustrophobic panic. A snap sounded as a flail slapped his right butt cheek. It stung, but didn’t cut. The excitement caused his cock to rise to full arousal. A hand wrapped around it and pumped. His knees weakened at the touch. “Such a biggie, this one.” When Bear sighed over the pleasuring hand, the hand released him and he felt the flail again. “I forbid you to climax until I allow it. We must tame it, mustn’t we? On your knees, chest to the floor.” He felt the cool, lubricated tip of a butt plug tease his ass. “Bear down,” the stranger said, and slipped it in when Bear complied. The plug, also a first for him, and its fullness triggered the memory of Dane’s hard cock entering him, and he reached for his dick to stimulate himself. A quick jerk on the neck collar and the disciplinarian said, “No, no, no. I do not allow it.” The flail drove him forward with small, sharp stings, and he was ordered to lie face up on a bed. His wrists were cuffed to the bedstead above, and his ankles to the footboard. 72

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He waited in heightened anticipation for what would come next in this safe play of bondage sex to which he’d consented. *

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Dane stepped forward, dismissing the man with a lift of his chin and accepting the flail as he left. He didn’t need light to dominate and taunt this body. Even in the dark he knew every dip, every slope, every sensitive spot. So Bear ignored him, did he? Well, he wouldn’t be able to ignore him now. Thanks to his call to Celeste Rawlings, Dane was going to systematically break down the barrier Bear had erected and force him to make love with him. Even if Bear hadn’t asked for a BDSM room, they’d planned he would end up in one. Dane leaned over the bed and blew gently in one ear. He cupped his hands over Bear’s face, knowing the heat from them would warm and excite, before massaging with a light touch. He let his fingertips slide from temple to jaw line and down onto his throat after he’d fingered his earlobes, knowing how hot that would make them feel. He was rewarded with a slight squirming. When he kissed Bear’s eyelids, nose and cheeks, and then hovered near one corner of his mouth, Bear turned his head, straining to reach him for a kiss. Dane moved instead to the hollow of his shoulder and lapped at the tender skin there, while his hands circled and squeezed pectorals and nipples. He would have his fill of this man before he’d let him peak and explode. 73

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Bear sucked in his breath, probably expecting kisses on his nipples, but Dane’s hands moved to his feet, running a thumb down each sole, knowing how good pressure on the nerves there would feel. Then his mouth sought each toe and sucked. With every touch, every kiss, Dane worshiped this body he loved, gloried in the guttural responses, the “Oh, Gods,” they triggered. His own cock was thick and long now, wet with the juices of sex, but whenever Bear became too agitated, too close to finishing, he pulled sharply on the neck collar. He was going to be truly broken and under Dane’s control by the time he allowed him to come, even if Dane climaxed first. And, considering the feelings rocketing through his body, there was a clear and present danger of that. By the time he’d worked his way up the inner thighs and cupped balls away from the butt plug handle, Bear was wild with wanting. As he carefully manipulated the plug until Bear was again close to spurting his sperm, he tugged on the collar and brought him up short. When Dane licked the juice from Bear’s cock like drips from an ice cream cone, Bear begged, “Please, please. Now.” Dane chuckled wickedly in a low voice and continued to toy with him. As Bear squirmed in an effort to lift his hips closer to the pleasuring mouth, Dane left his cock, reached for a piece of ice from a bowl next to the bed and effectively cooled some of his partner’s ardor. He cooled a little of his own, wincing at the pain. It was a good, harmless pain. He teased and tongued and grazed with his teeth. He sucked bruises on one inner thigh, marking Bear as his, 74

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leaving evidence of what they’d done together. He drank in the feel of the solid body as his hands stroked and pulled and prodded, while Bear rose once more to climax point and the flail was applied to a thigh to stop him. By the time Dane finally took him deep into his mouth to tongue and milk his cock, Bear accused him of cruelty in a voice as thick as his dick. Dane knew the stimulation must be unbearable and impossible to control. “Now, my love. I allow it.” He pushed down hard as Bear thrust his hips up and, with a cry, shot off his rocks into Dane’s throat. Climbing on the bed, Dane took his dick in his hand and brushed it across Bear’s mouth, letting him get a taste, a feel, and the scent of him. “Take me in. Immediately.” Bear took him in, rewarding him with pleasures he’d rarely known. With his cock buried in the wet, sucking heat, his balls tightened and sent pulsating rivers of life into his lover’s throat. Both men were spent as he stretched out on Bear and framed his face with his hands and lay his head in the hollow of his shoulder. Their hearts pounded as one, and Dane absorbed his heat, even as he gave of his own. They slept for a time, and then Dane wakened with a hard on. He kissed Bear, pressing and sliding his lips across his until Bear wakened and opened his mouth. He slid a hand down Bear’s belly and coaxed the big cock to life again. Stepping off the bed and standing beside it, he unshackled one hand, one ankle, then, with a hand on the chain to the 75

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collar, unshackled the others. Bear sat up only to find a condom shoved into his hand. “Put this on me.” His dick had never been so sensitive to a man’s touch and the cool slide of latex. “Kneel, penitent. On your knees. Head on the bed.” He disguised his voice, which wasn’t hard because it had become hoarse with the fiery desire building inside him. Bear didn’t hesitate, and Dane climbed up beside him to manipulate the butt plug. “That feels so good. You’ll never know how good it feels.” “It’s time to remove it.” Bear’s sounds went raspy and rough as it crossed the anal sphincter and was out. Dane almost lost control of his own impending orgasm. He reached for the strap on the bedpost, carefully placed the opening in its middle over Bear’s balls and cock so they hung free and clear, and pulled the ends up on either side. “I’m going to take a horsy-back ride, and these are my reins, partner.” He couldn’t completely steady his hand as he eased his dick past the anal opening. Pausing, he felt the second, inner sphincter relax and with an, “Oh, yes,” he pushed the final way in. Bear responded with vigorous thrusts against the presence of Dane inside him, and Dane’s dick threatened to pull out. He picked up the ends of the strap and pulled hard. Bear’s body stayed tight against him as the slow, undulating rhythm of drawing part way out and then rocking back in built to a wild thrusting until his testicles tightened and pulsed like the first powerful hit of water through a fire hose nozzle. A 76

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tumultuous wave of heat and joy swept him into a dizzying vortex of pleasure mingled with Bear’s cries. In the quiet after joy, he pulled gently out and cleansed himself and his lover with the damp, scented cloths provided. He pressed Bear’s buttocks down until he lay stretched out face down. “Rest. It’s over, Bear.” Before he left, he leaned in to kiss Bear’s cheek. As he stepped through black curtains and out of the room, he thought he heard him say, “Is that you, Dane?” The dominator took his place, providing instructions for the shower and cleansing. *

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As the hot water pounded his head and body, Bear felt a sudden weakness as he realized how much he’d wanted his punisher to have been Dane. Dane flicking the flail. Dane giving orders. Dane dominating him, fucking him, breaking through the wall Bear had built between them. But it hadn’t been his lover. It had been a stranger skilled in the art of domination and sexual release. Even if it had been Dane, it wouldn’t have made a difference at home. It would have made him even more determined to shut that door firmly. His leathers and boots had been placed in the shower area, and his emotions settled as he dressed and stepped into the elevator. Celeste and an attractive blonde, perfect foil to Celeste’s dark beauty, separated from kissing as he entered. The blonde 77

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was slender, dressed in an expensive green pantsuit and tailored blouse. Her full hair was cropped stylishly short. “Ah, here he is. Marguerite, I’d like you to meet my friend Robert Barrington. We go way back. We call him Bear for obvious reasons. We’ve been waiting for you. The food’s ready.” “Ah’m so glad to meet you,” the woman said. Deep South, Bear thought, noticing the glow on Celeste’s face as she watched Marguerite. Celeste had found someone at last. He gave her a wink and a thumb’s up behind Marguerite’s back. Her voluptuous lips blew him a kiss. A small buffet table had been set up, and now a fire blazed in the marble fireplace. Bear visited with the women as they ate. He was full when the voudrais elevator signaled someone else was returning. Bear recovered his helmet and gloves and excused himself with a quick kiss on Celeste’s cheek before the doors could open. He kicked in the Ninja and revved it up. He hummed as he started on the road to home. *

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If Dane had expected anything to be different with Bear, he might have been in for bitter disappointment. The barrier remained, but now when Dane watched him at work or sending Blood to search or slamming a homer out of the ball park, it was with a secret smile shadowed by rich feelings of satisfied lust and love. Dane was still floating in this surreal happiness when he 78

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shared kitchen duty with Matson one evening. He dried the Dutch oven and stuck it in the cupboard. Leon said, “I hear they arrested our volunteer firefighter for arson.” “I hadn’t heard that. Once the evidence goes to the PD, I’m off the case.” “Well, you seem to be a better investigator than your predecessor. Grogan missed the house arson.” He put the last dish into the drainer and let the water out of the sink. “I’m glad we got rid of that faggot and got us a real man.” Dane froze. Anger warred with the nausea threatening to cause his dinner to erupt on Matson’s shoes. It would have served the hateful man right. “A little swishy, was he? Wore Speedos in public?” “Nah, nothing like that. Just a feeling I had. We don’t need queers in firefighting.” You’d be shocked at how many excellent detectives, firefighters, physicians or whatever are queers. Dane wanted to punch his lights out. Instead, he dried the dish and put it away with, “I think that’s got it,” and left the kitchen. Three days later, Bear called in ill. At report, Stamford said, “He’s been pretty sick. Bronchitis trying to go into pneumonia.” *

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The next day at noon, Dane pounded on his door. “It’s Dane. Open the door.” “Go away. I’m sick.” 79

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“You sound it. Which is exactly why I’m holding a thermos of hot chicken soup and a loaf of freshly baked bread from Carver’s.” “I’ve phoned Celeste. She’s coming this afternoon.” “Open this door now or I’ll break a window and let myself in.” The deadbolt turned, and Bear stood in the doorway. Dane stepped past him into the hall, where he wrapped an arm around his shoulder and hugged him. “How’s the cough?” “Better…” Bear tried to say more, but coughed instead. “Hmm. I’m not so sure.” He studied his friend, at the solid, perfectly proportioned body dressed in green-and-black plaid pajama bottoms and a white knit top, and pain swept through him. “I hate to tell you this, but you look terrible. You must still have a fever. Get back in bed while I get your soup ready.” He walked into the kitchen and put the food on a counter littered with the remains of TV dinners and dirty glasses. Bear had felt too rotten to cook or clean up. They all took turns doing that at the station house, so it wouldn’t be a big thing for him here at home. Excited yelps from outside the sliding glass door announced Blood’s welcome of a known visitor. Dane let him in and leaned down to scratch his head and ears. “Hey, big dog, how ya doin’? Taking good care of your master?” Turning his attention back to his lover, he asked if he’d fed the dog that morning. “Yes. Water, too.” Coughing again. 80

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“You need to get back in bed.” Dane followed Bear into the bedroom, where Blood sat and watched them. “Let me straighten the bedding. It’s all balled up.” The sheets were limp with moisture. “You can’t get back in here until I put dry sheets on.” He felt Bear’s pajama top. “Your fever must have broken. Where are your clean pajamas and sheets?” He made Bear strip and put on a robe, then sit on the living room couch with a down throw over his legs. When he brought a glass of water and ordered him to drink it, Bear made a face. “It’s not beer, but it’ll do. You need plenty of fluids.” The patient patted the cushion next to him, and Blood jumped up and lay down with his head on Bear’s thigh. Just like in the fire station and his own condo, Dane remade the bed and popped the sheets and damp pjs into the washing machine. After the machine was filling, he returned to the living room. “Shower time. Then clean pajamas and bed.” “I’m too weak to shower.” “We’ll manage. You’ll feel much better when you’re clean. And a little steam’s good for coughs.” He found a white plastic chair on the patio outside the kitchen, and set it in the shower. Bear sat while Dane scrubbed his back and shampooed his hair vigorously. Bear managed the rest. He stepped out into a huge towel Dane wrapped around him. Soon he was dressed in fresh pjs and sliding between clean sheets. “Hmm, this feels good. Thanks.” Dane pressed his lips to the top of his friend’s head and let 81

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him rest. When Bear’s breathing became slow and deep, he decided lunch could wait. Dane dangled the leash. “Wanna take a walk?” Eagerly, the hound went to him and Dane clipped it to his collar. As they stepped outside, Blood looked up at to see what was expected of him, and at Dane’s signal they were off under a sun splashed sky.

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CHAPTER 5 He sat at the bedside and insisted Bear eat all the chicken soup and bread. He brewed a cup of green tea, poured honey into it and forced him to drink it. The sour look on Bear’s face wasn’t enough to make Dane relent. Once he’d gotten it down, Bear leaned for support on the pillow at his back and said, “Now, go. I don’t know why you came.” “Well, well, aren’t we grumpy?” Dane took his hand and pressed his lips to it. After a protracted sigh, he said, “Don’t you get it? Or are you afraid to get it? I love you, man. I want to marry you, to share the rest of my life with you. If we didn’t have jobs here, I’d want to move to a state where we could 83

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make it legal.” He looked up at Bear. “Funny thing is, I think you love me that way, too.” “Grogan…” Disgust tinged his voice as he said, “I know all about Grogan. Mr. Ugly told me. I know why he left and who saw to it he did. If that’s the personal issue you said he was dealing with when he investigated the house fire—a little thing like his life and limb—it’s not surprising he missed those clues.” He ran a finger through the beginnings of a soft beard along Bear’s jaw. His voice dropped. “Look, I understand your fear. Lord knows I’m familiar enough with it. But don’t you see that what we feel for each other can’t be ignored? It’s tearing me apart to know you’re sleeping in the next room and I can’t be there with you for pillow talk, to touch you”—he grinned—“or to fuck that sexy ass of yours like we did the night of the avalanche.” Bear went into a spasm of coughing. “Go…don’t want you to get this! And it’s too dangerous for anyone to see…” Irritation rolled through Dane. “See what? A friend, a partner making sure his buddy’s okay? Screw them, those ‘anyones.’” “There’s no future for us, and it’s killing me. Can’t you see that? Why do you think I got sick? I’ll go away…get a job somewhere else.” Seeing this powerful guy weak, sick and hurting tore at Dane’s gut. He climbed up to sit on the bed and wrap an arm around his shoulder. “You’re not going anywhere and neither am I. We’ll figure something out.” He pressed Bear’s head 84

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onto his shoulder. “Now close your eyes and rest.” After a moment, Bear said, “When did you know you were different?” Dane snorted. “I was about seven.” “I was eight. My family’s loving, but religious, and the Bible teaches we’re an abomination. I didn’t want to be that…God knows I didn’t. I spent too much time cruising before I accepted who I am and stopped. My family still doesn’t know.” “I almost married because I wanted to be normal and have a family. I smartened up and realized I couldn’t live a lie, cruising in secret while being married to a really nice woman for whom I’d never feel real passion. She was devastated over the breakup, but she’s happily married now to a straight guy, and I’m happy…with you. Someday things will change for gays. We could marry in Massachusetts now, and that’ll spread. You’ll see.” “Dane…” “Hush now. Rest.” An hour later, a tousled Dane in shirtsleeves, jeans and sock feet answered the door chime. Celeste stepped inside. “Thank heavens, you made it.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t envy you. Bear is a bear today…and a man of little faith.” He stretched and loosened up his shoulders, then put on his shoes and jacket and took out his car keys. “Food’s in the fridge. Make sure he drinks enough liquids and takes his medicine.” He kissed her cheek. “Thank you, Celeste. You’re one great gal.” 85

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“He’s a good friend, and I’m happy to do it. Keeping up appearances can be exhausting, can’t it? I’ll keep you in touch with progress reports. Do you think he’ll be well enough for the muster?” “I’m keeping my fingers crossed, and he’s determined to be there. If I’m needed here today or tomorrow, let me know.” *

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Bear returned to work with the same reserved attitude toward Dane, the same pattern off duty. He wouldn’t pick up or return phone calls. Dane drove over and almost broke the door hammering on it. He knew Bear was home, but he wouldn’t come to the door. When Dane got back in his car, he pounded the steering wheel in frustration. “You lousy bastard. Ungrateful chicken bastard,” he growled under his breath. And then, anger having exhausted him, he gave up. “If that’s the hell way you want things, then I’ll leave.” He didn’t show up for SAR training or the next slow pitch game. If Bear had noticed, Dane wouldn’t have known it. *

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Bear had noticed. Had understood and ached because Dane couldn’t accept what had to be done to protect them. Emerson was due to retire in two months, but he hadn’t applied for his spot. Instead, he’d mailed applications to fire departments across the state. 86

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The day of the Fireman’s Muster broke sunny and warm. Bear stood with Blood on his leash and Celeste at his side as friends and family from all the people he loved greeted them and milled around. All the Zanja fire engines and trucks were parked around the grounds, the crews on duty were in uniform, and their captains had their radios open to the dispatcher. If a call came in, they’d roll from the park. Bear was off that day, and he and Celeste were dressed more casually in jeans, athletic shoes, and jackets. Celeste wore a ruby-colored knit shirt under her jacket. Bear’s was green. It was almost time for the search competition, but there was no sign of Dane. Sadness enveloped him. He hadn’t meant to drive him away from the muster. “I don’t think he’s coming.” She picked an imaginary piece of lint from his sleeve. “Maybe not, but there’s still time.” He looked down at Celeste, and there was a brightness to the dark eyes that hinted at mischief. “You know something I don’t.” “What’s there to know?” She moved slightly, forcing him to move with her. She’d shifted just enough for him to see over her shoulder to the newcomers entering the park. Bear’s heart lurched. Cinnamon gamboled beside a figure in black jeans and leather jacket striding toward them with confident ease. His heart broke into a happy dance he hoped wouldn’t fell him. Dane had one arm around the shoulders of Marguerite, sunlight glinting off her blonde hair, her slender figure trim in designer jeans. 87

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Celeste was smiling with her eyes as well as her face. “How did you manage that?” “I’m a good friend who loves you, remember?” He touched his lips to her cheek, just as he would’ve kissed his sister, and took her hand and squeezed it. “Thank you.” Dane brushed his bangs out of his eyes. The gesture stirred something deep inside Bear that was richer than lust. “You made it just in time!” “We did. Cinnamon’s gonna roll the socks off that big hound of yours.” “We’ll see about that. Hi, Marguerite. Welcome to the muster.” His smile was so wide he thought the corners of his mouth would touch his ears. Because of the confusion of so many people milling around, the dogs never searched for a person. Today they’d search for an old shoe hidden in the stand of trees surrounding the park. Each dog had a chance to sniff its mate, and the owners unhooked leashes. When the starter lowered her hand, the dogs were signaled to search and fetch. The judge followed in their wake. In time, a bay sounded with a short bark rising in unison. “Blood’s alerting!” Bear said with a grin. Dane laughed full out. “And that’s Cinnamon!” Eventually, the judge ruled it a draw. When he’d come upon the canines, each dog had one end of the shoe in its mouth, growling as they tugged to take it away from the other. The SAR crews clapped and laughed. 88

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By late afternoon, as the muster concluded, Zanja’s Fire Station One had captured third place in the chili cook-off, and the City of Verdugo Fire Department had won the tug o’ war. Dane and Marguerite, Celeste and Bear walked arm in arm to their cars at the close of what they agreed had been a wonderful day. “Follow me to my apartment,” Dane said. “We’ll have a drink and dinner there later. I’m too full of chili to want food again soon.” Bear would have protested, but he looked at the women and decided it was safe. They stopped at his house first, where he fed Blood and unlocked his doggie door. Blood pushed through to the backyard. At his place, Dane used a key to send the elevator to the top floor. The elevator opened right into his apartment. He attended to Cinnamon, and then put her in her crate on the balcony, where she curled up and laid her head on her paws. Bear looked around and realized the entire top floor was Dane’s apartment. The décor had clean lines in shades of gray, black and white with bright accents. He walked over gleaming hardwood floors with scattered area rugs in the bright colors of the Native Americans who’d woven them. In an area overlooking the valley, steam rose from a heated sunken spa. As the women explored and exclaimed over his place, Bear said to him, “You didn’t tell me you were rich.” “Rich parents, traveled in the best circles, but I earned most of it myself investing money my grandmother left me. 89

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Why would I mention it to people? If you’d visited me, you’d have known.” Gorgeous hunk, loyal friend, modest man. And don’t forget confident, Bear thought with a smile. Money plus traveling in the right circles could do that for a guy. After a champagne toast to Blood, Cinnamon and the chili cook-off, the four of them sat naked in the soothing water of the spa, bubbles gurgling around them as the jets massaged their muscles. For a time, Bear listened without contributing to the talk around him. It was of SAR, the muster, firefighting, slow pitch and Celeste’s club. Marguerite, he learned, lived in Arizona and owned a jewelry business that marketed silverand- turquoise jewelry throughout the world. They had much in common. So very much. Dane said, “Emerson tells me you haven’t applied for his job.” Forced into the conversation now as a participant, he said, “He’s right. I’ve applied at other departments around the state.” “Matson’s the only other applicant who comes close to qualifying, and you know he’s poison,” Dane said, his face a study in serious thought. Celeste asked, “Isn’t he the one who drove the other arson investigator out just because he thought he was gay? No proof, just imagination?” Dane answered her. “Yes, he is. Bear, if you don’t apply, you might as well hand command of our fire station to him. If you do that and don’t get a job somewhere else, you’ll have to 90

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work under him.” “I realize I’m an outsider, but that doesn’t sound too good,” Marguerite commented. “I say we take a vote. All in favor of Bear applying for the captaincy in fire station number one raise their hand.” Celeste spoke in a bright voice as she raised her hand. Everyone voted but Bear. “Three ayes, one non vote. The ayes have it.” “And that settles that,” Marguerite said. Bear smiled a slow, enigmatic smile. Could any man have friends as good as these? “I guess I’m outvoted, aren’t I?” “That calls for another round of champagne.” Dane poured all around, and they saluted Bear. They sat quietly in the heat after their toast, and sexual hunger for Dane was slowly uncoiling in Bear’s center. Marguerite suddenly leaned over to kiss Celeste. The kiss began slow, with nips and teeth grazes, then it deepened to tongues flicking and penetrating, as if to reach the very essence of the person. Marguerite reached for Celeste’s breasts and squeezed, flicking thumbs over her nipples. Celeste slid her hand under the water to massage and penetrate Marguerite’s pussy. When Marguerite began to moan and push harder and harder against Celeste’s hand, Dane rose and reached down for Bear. Standing on the edge of the spa, with the moans and sharp gasps of sex issuing from the women in the water behind them, they toweled each other off, paying careful attention to the genitals. By the time Marguerite cried out in climax, their 91

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cocks were fully tumescent, their balls hanging soft and expectant. They kissed as Dane walked Bear to the master bedroom. Closing the door behind them, Dane released Bear to switch off the lights. Total darkness wrapped around them. “What?” Bear said. Before he could turn, he heard the snap of a whip, and a voice said, “Kneel, penitent. Tonight you pay for your sins.” For all his intelligence, it still took Bear moments to realize this wasn’t a game they would play, it was a message. “That was you in the voudrais.” Arms slid around his waist from behind, and Dane laid his head on his shoulder. “Yes, it was me. After the mountain interlude, wanting to be intimate with you again was eating me alive, but you’d shut me out. Shut me out even from simple friendship. I thought I could live with only friendship, but you were smarter. You knew we could never be satisfied with that, didn’t you?” “I did. I still do.” “You’d confirmed what your friendship with Celeste was, provided her name and that she lived in Vegas. I was desperate. It was easy to reach her and share what I felt about you, and what you were doing to me. She suggested the voudrais.” He ran his hands over Bear’s hips. “Tying you up and holding you down was the only way we could think of to get you to let me make love to you again. Through domination, I created a semblance of the barrier you’d erected between us. I 92

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stimulated you over and over to the brink of peaking and brought you up just short of climaxing by the yank on your collar. You’ll never know what that cost me in control over my own throbbing cock. When I knew you couldn’t hold back any more, I allowed you to break through the barrier and come.” Bear turned and slid his lips across Dane’s as they wrapped their arms around each other. Dane whispered, “I have to tell you, when I knew you were going there…to some stranger…I almost strangled over my jealousy.” Bear rubbed his hips against him and sheathed his cock in his hand, thumbing the tip and the sensitive spot under the glans as Dane trembled in anticipation at his touch. His voice was low and deep as he said, “I’m not with a stranger now. I’m with someone I love.” This time he was the one on top.

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EPILOGUE The headline in the Los Angeles Times roared at Dane. GAY MARRIAGE BAN OVERTURNED. STATE HIGH COURT’S 4-3 RULING PROMPTS CELEBRATION, OPPOSITION Under the photo of two men embracing in a crowd of those awaiting the decision, the court’s ruling was given. “An individual’s sexual orientation—like a person’s race or gender—does not constitute a legitimate basis upon which to deny or withhold legal rights.” Dane tossed the newspaper aside and walked to stand next to Bear. “It’s not over, is it?” 94

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Bear shrugged. “The opposition’s already drawing up a ballot measure against the ruling.” Bitterness tinged Dane’s words. “We aren’t safe even now. At least not here. Especially not with Matson around.” Bear drew him close and brushed his nose across his lover’s as he ran his hands over narrow hips and around to close on a tight ass. His voice was rough with hunger as his tongue teased a corner of Dane’s lips and drank in the clean taste of his skin. “Someday we’ll be safe. Someday. Let’s not waste the here and now.” Dane chuckled against Bear’s lips. “I’m all for that.” He closed his lips on Bear’s and opened his mouth.

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CAROLINA VALDEZ

Carolina Valdez, author of the popular Amber Heat Wave winner Dark Stranger, composed her first stories at the age of eight. That was about the time Santa left the first books she had in her home-abridged versions of the Wizard of Oz for children. She has happy memories of trips to used bookstores with her mother to locate and buy the full versions when she was ten or twelve. Captivated by the odd characters and their adventures, Carolina wrote a letter to L. Frank Baum, the author. Ruth Plumly Thompson replied, enclosing a map of the Kingdom of Oz. Sadly, the letter and map have disappeared over the years, but the love of writing and creating her own fictional worlds have remained. Carolina has a collection of Oz books, one of which, given to her by her mother when it was new, has recently been appraised at $350. Before writing for Amber Quill Press, Carolina had more than sixty publications to her credit, ranging from children’s stories to articles in professional journals. A public health nurse with an advanced university degree, she won RN Magazine’s First Award for Writing, and has been published also in the American Journal of Nursing. She was a Guideposts Writers Workshop and Guideposts Reunion Workshop winner, and her work has appeared in that periodical and several Daily

Guideposts books. Among her other wins are the Soul-Making Literary Prize for Essay, the Marjorie Davis Roller Award for non-fiction, Della Crowder Memorial and Millenium awards for poetry, and the Norman E. and Marjorie J. Roller first prize for a story about a horse that can float on water. She contributed (under the name Carol Holman) to Mean Girls Grown Up, a book regarding adult female relational aggression. Dark Stranger was her first venture into sensual romance. Her first attempt into the murder genre can be read on-line at Mysterical-E. Her latest can be found in the 2006 crime anthology, LAndmarked for Murder. Valdez is a member of the Orange County, From The Heart, and Hearts Of History chapters of Romance Writers of America and Sisters in Crime/Los Angeles. She resides with her husband in sunny Southern California. *

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Don’t miss Tears of the Dragon, by Carolina Valdez, available at AmberHeat.com!

Gloriana, princess of the golden dragons of the high mountains, has a sacred destiny to fulfill, but first she’s

required to mate and produce an heir. In human form, as Arondele and hiding her true nature, she’s fallen in love with Rodick, a powerful knight in the enchanted kingdom of Ahnerion. Only after seducing an aroused but reluctant Rodick does she learn that, for not being a virgin when she mates for the first time as Gloriana, the penalty is death. For both of them. Terrified for Rodick’s safety, she abandons him. They will slay her, but at least he’ll be safe. Flaming passion fuels Rodick’s hunt to find Gloriana. When he learns what she is, and realizes that to have her he must battle her father, Dreicomar, the powerful and fearsome king of the golden dragons, will his love stand the test? And will he and his princess survive?

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