Boys in Blue 03 - Dangerous Distraction (2 page)

Nate’s fingers flicking over the hard leather badge plate made the tips numb as the rhythm increased. He’d done some looking at Rook’s file in the guise of
not
thinking about the man. But no matter how he sliced it, David Rook left an impression. One that made Nate’s cock want to storm Rook’s defences to see exactly what kind of artillery
he
was sporting.

Derrick’s expression took on one of bemusement. “Looks like your girlfriend finally decided to make an appearance.”

Nate looked around, saw Detective Rook and one of the shits from the night in the bar slipping under the police tape. Rook’s jaw had hardened and his lips pressed into a petulant line. It pushed the corners down and pursed the full centre. Nice. Kissable.
Fuck
!

That wasn’t happiness written all over his face, either. Just Nate’s luck that he’d pull the one bust which landed in Rook’s jurisdiction and case load. What were the chances? Fucking Murphy’s law . There had to be a negligence lawsuit for situations when Fate fucked you over so badly, you got to give Karma the finger.

“Missed me, did you?” Nate asked, drolly as Rook stopped beside him.

Rook flicked a glance over him, straightened his shoulders and arrogantly lifted his chin, a strange shrug to the corner of his mouth. Rook’s own brand of body language without actual movement beyond his face.

“You got my dead body,” he muttered, looking towards the building. “Did you pussies clear out of there, or are you still busy fucking up my crime scene?”

 

“Still fucking up your crime scene,” Nate shot back.

 

Rook’s sudden laugh surprised them both. “Well, fuck me, you admitted it.”

 

Nate turned, propped an arm on the top of the patrol car, and grinned. “Is that an offer, Rook?”

 

The detective’s eyes widened, his smile faltered. Dull red crept up his neck and flushed his jaw. Rook stared straight ahead as though a poker ran his spine and his head would break off if he moved it.

 

“I think it was an offer, Nate,” Derrick agreed.

 

“Typical. I finally find myself a half-decent mug to wake up to and the man is all lips and prick with no substance,” he mourned to his partner.

“I thought you fags liked lips and pricks,” Derrick countered. “His lips. My prick.Sure. But if he’s going to blow me, I wanna know it won’t take all his brain power to fuel the engine.” Nate shrugged. They’d been talking around Rook while he’d grown redder and redder. Now all three faced the building.

“I think you called it, partner,” Derrick said. “All his steam got used up in two sentences.”

 

Rook swore under his breath. “Show me the damn building, asshole.”

 

“Asshole is such a
big
word. You sure you can part with it?” Nate asked.

 

“Rook!This can’t wait all day, man!” the guy from the bar yelled.

 

Rook said something like Fronfuckingasskisser , but Nate was pretty sure he heard him wrong. “Call Paulson. I’m going to be here for a while,” Rook said.

 

“You sure, man?”

 

Rook sighed deeply. “I hate that guy.” To Nate, he said, “When you’re done flirting with me, I’d like to get in there.”

 

Derrick snorted. Nate shot him a scowl. “Come on, then.”

 

“I think I’ll leave the show and tell to you, partner,” Derrick said.

Nate motioned for Rook to precede him, which Rook accepted. Figured. The man was a
taker
. A damn sexy taker, but a
taker
. They cleared the first flight of stairs, had passed the last two out-going ATF agents when Nate decided to goad him some more.

“You have a damn fine ass, detective.”

 

“Are you hitting on me?” Rook asked.

Nate followed him around the bend and up another flight. He considered Rook’s flexing butt and thighs, the hip slung pants and thick soled shoes. His eyes travelled back up, pausing on the tight butt then ascended to Rook’s rocking gait. Rook looked good enough to eat. They cleared the second flight and took the final level up to the crime scene. Nate locked his gaze on the ass in front of him.

“Yeah, Rook, I guess I am.”

 

“That’s what I thought.” Rook stopped, pivoted on the halfway point landing.

 

Nate daringly took the step below him, cocking his eyebrow in challenge. “And?”

Rook seemed confused, annoyed, interested, and yet cautious as though he didn’t mean for Nate to read him. But the detective’s guard wasn’t completely up and Nate did read him. He looked steadily into the gaze of a man who wasn’t
out
.

Nate’s heart sank. He’d been hoping Rook would take advantage of the sexual banter in a real, cock-pumping culmination of lust, and damn if Nate hadn’t sworn he’d never fall for a closeted gay. It had been too hard coming out. He had no intention of hiding for anyone else.
“Never mind, Rook,” Nate said, stonily. He stepped around him and climbed the last half to the third level. “It’s this apartment, here.”

* * * *

David’s gaze followed Nate until he disappeared. Then giving himself a mental shake, he pursued the sound of the other man’s voice to the apartment. The door had been battered off its hinges and debris littered the floor. He picked his way through the mess.

“She’s in the closet,” Nate said. With a sardonic twist of his lips as he moved to the location.

 

“How do you know she’s mine?” David asked.

 

“One of your responding officers recognised her.”

 

David took a folded latex glove from his back pocket, pulled it into place, and snapped it on his wrist. Nate muttered about doctor appointments. David tried not to think about prostate examinations by Nate.

 

He nudged the closet door. “Was the door closed when you came on scene?”

“Yeah.I think one of your guys opened it,” Nate answered, strolling to the window and looking out. He seemed to study the outside sidewalk, his hands in his pockets pulling the black cotton of his slacks tight over his ass.

David turned his attention to the unlit closet. “Why isn’t the Medical Examiner here?”

 

“You want me to do your investigating for you, detective?”

David crouched, examining the body more closely. If the department didn’t do this right, they’d be flayed by public opinion and might lose any case they drew against the killer. What was the tie to the arms deal? Did the murderer have a link, or was the body here before the deal went sour? Was the killer dealing on the side?

He didn’t believe in coincidence. Having noted the bruising on the victim’s neck, David gently pulled her jaw down. It moved easily and still felt slightly warm to the touch through the thin layer of latex. She’d been a recent kill.

He held her lips and chin with his thumb, pushed her tongue to the side with his finger. The tell-tale red Lifesaver nestled behind her teeth. Yep. It was his guy. The candy hadn’t dissolved yet from the natural enzymatic qualities of residual saliva.

“He’s my killer,” David confirmed. He twisted on his toes.

 

Nate’s shoulders hunched. “Shit.” He swivelled and strode to stand in front of him. When he got there, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a business card.

David rose. Someone called from outside the apartment and David yelled back. He saw the ME hurry in, and David stepped aside, keeping his eyes on Nate. Nate’s closed, cold features were compelling. His expression was exactly opposite what it had been down in the street and climbing the stairs. David sensed he’d done something which had caused the change. He couldn’t remember anything to explain Nate’s mood change.

Nate lifted an eyebrow. He’d given him the same cocky look in the bar. “You’re going to need my office number for my statement and information, Rook. It’s not a date.”

 

David’s heart tripped and he felt a blush rush his cheeks. He snatched the card and shoved it into his back pocket. “Bite me.”

 

“Not anymore.”

 

David’s gaze shot to his. Nate flashed an insincere smile before leaving David with the ME and his assistant.

David yanked open the filing cabinet and inserted the thickening records for his most disturbing open case. The strangler was still at large. Nate Giamanti had sent over the pertinent case records as promised, and he’d poured over them trying to glean any new information. The more he knew about the possible links, the less he had to talk to the ATF agent.

That seemed to gain importance daily. Nate made him think things. Made him wish for things David wasn’t ready to explore. Once again, he played over the moment on the stairs when Nate had gone from warm to cold. No words had been exchanged, and David thought he’d held his emotions pretty close. Somehow, Nate must have known anyway.

Did he know David had been tempted to take him up on the sexy banter?

 

When Nate had climbed those last steps, narrowing the distance, David had hoped. He hadn’t put thoughts to the hope, but it had swelled inside him, warmed his belly and he’d
hoped
.

He’d had ten days to think about it. More, actually, if he went back to that first moment when they’d kissed at the bar. Had that been a month ago? Damn, time flew. Daily, David questioned what he was willing to risk in order to see Nate socially. He still hadn’t worked it all out, but the hope had left traces of itself.

He dated when he got lonely enough and when the grind of seeing death, smelling death, tasting the acrid flavour of death’s aroma laced his tongue. He’d driven to another county to see if he could connect with someone—out of sight of anyone he knew in his professional spectrum. When he did, he broke it off after a few dates. Most times, he didn’t find anyone he wanted to spend time with.

The fuck of it was, he finally had and he wasn’t in the next county. No, of course not, fate didn’t work that way. Instead she’d planted the man on David’s turf and cackled with glee when she knew he wouldn’t accept the six foot temptation.

The cool, clinical responses to David’s questions when he called Nate only served to stoke his curiosity. Why didn’t Nate flirt with him? David had tried dropping a hint. Nate hadn’t caught it. It was maddening.
Nate
was maddening in his elusiveness.
David’s fingertips flipped at the paper edges in the file. He couldn’t even close the case that had him in constant contact with Nate. There were no further leads. The evidence didn’t connect, yet he couldn’t help but feel that it would soon. It itched under his skin with certainty and left him feeling eerily unsteady.

He closed the drawer and reached for his phone. Before he could flip it open to dial Nate again, it chirped in his hand. Giamanti scrolled across the incoming call box. The irony made him chuckle as he accepted the call.

“Rook,” David answered.

 

“You’re going to want to see this.”

 

Nate’s even tone slipped over the virtual line and cupped David’s balls. God, he had a great voice.

 

“Where are you?”

 

“Twenty-first and Hemphill,” Nate said.

 

“That’s out of my jurisdiction.”

 

“ You turningyour case over to the ninth?”

 

“Fuck you,” David said.

 

“I think we’ve had this conversation. I finished it.”

 

“Yeah, about that—”

 

Nate interrupted him. “I’ve another body on my crime scene. You want it, or you want ninth in here fucking with your evidence?”

 

“I’m on my way.”

 

“Look for the ATF truck. I’m on the third floor. Again.”

 

David hung up, grabbed his kit, and took off. He didn’t know if he was more excited about finding a second link between the two cases, or seeing Nate. He’d figure it out later.

 

Chapter Two

 

He could do this. Nate could handle seeing Rook. He just had to psyche himself up and swear to all things holy that he wouldn’t grab the other man’s ass and take a bite when he bent over the body.

 

There was nothing sexy about dead bodies. Rook crouched, ass and thighs flexed, butt cheeks parted, and cock nestled inside open legs, however, was. That might all be happening under the protective covering of jeans, but the position made Nate’s body ache.

He heard the rough timbre of Rook’s voice moments later. His cock stirred and he braced himself for another look at the gorgeous man. It didn’t help. When his loose-hipped stride carried him into the room, Nate’s vision narrowed on him.

Rook’s hair spilled just over his shoulders and fell across his face, obscuring one eye. His lips parted when he caught sight of Nate, and Nate had to remember to quit staring. It wasn’t an easy feat. His navy polo clung to his upper body, delineating each flex of his torso. Lean hips, tight abs, negligently swinging arms created a feast for the eyes.

Derrick slapped Nate’s back. “Breathe,” he chided.

 

“Fuck off,” he replied, good-naturedly.

Rook’s impossibly blue eyes locked on him. Did he have any idea how fucking hot that was? Goddamn him! He arrived like a fucking god, claimed his visual prize, and practically fucked Nate with his gaze as he languidly approached. They were on a case, for fuck’s sake. He should be scoping the scene and checking out the corpse, not—
shit
, Rook just checked out Nate’s package.

His mouth went dry. He tried to think of something to say about the case to distract him. There wasn’t much more Nate could take in Rook’s virtual assault on his senses.

 

“I’m here,” Rook said, stating the obvious.

Nate wanted to laugh. There wasn’t a person who’d missed his entrance. He knew Rook was oblivious to his looks, at least he seemed to be, but the man’s presence vibrated off him in waves. He’d noticed it at the bar. He’d felt it with the kiss, even though he hadn’t liked the way Rook had taken it like it was his due. He’d felt it as strongly as he’d felt Rook’s indecision on the stairwell.

Nate flicked a glance at the sliding mirrored closet doors. “She’s in there.”

 

“Another closet case,” Rook mused, following his direction.

 

“There seem to be quite a few in this room,” Nate jibed.

 

“I’ll ignore that,” Rook muttered. He moved to the closet, and the ME stood back. He was the same guy from the last scene. They exchanged nods and Rook squatted down.