I'll Be Your Last (11 page)

I’ll Be Your Last

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* * * *

Mack’s emotions flew high. He hadn’t expected this to become his most intense sexual experience. It had begun in desperation and hunger. The last thing he wanted or needed in his life was emotion where Woody was concerned.

But right at this moment, his rigid, hungry cock was running the show. Giving pleasure to Woody had been uniquely satisfying. His chest ached with a desire for this one man even though he was positive he didn’t deserve him.

Licking at the salty remnants of cum, listening to the soft moaning, he smiled to himself at the sight of Woody’s weak, sprawled body. He dragged his palms over the springy hair nesting Woody’s softening cock, up over the hard belly to cup his pectorals.

Yes. This was what he desired. Not a woman’s soft breasts, but the hard muscles of a man’s body. He swirled the tip of his tongue around a dark nipple, around the rising pebbles of arousal, to the hard bud in the center.

“Yes,” Woody murmured.

“I thought you’d be too tired for more,” he whispered back, taking a tip delicately between his teeth.

“Unh-unh.” His head rolled back and forth on the pillow.

“Is there anything you don’t like?” Mack suckled hard, nipped Woody’s nipple and rocked it.

“Harder.”

The kid liked it rough, did he? As if what they’d just done had been easy.
Oh, God.
His cock surged, thickened, felt hotter and harder than it’d ever been. “I need to fuck you.”

“Yes,” Woody said. “Fuck me.” He lifted shaking hands and bracketed Mack’s face between his palms.

Something else Mack wasn’t used to—allowing himself or his partner any moment of tenderness.

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“Your eyes are so deep blue.” Woody traced his thumbs over Mack’s cheeks, drawing circles, pressing his lips open, even rubbing his teeth.

Mack brushed his tongue over Woody’s thumb and sucked it into his mouth, closing his eyes at the sweet pleasure. “You’re not too sore?” He wasn’t a brute. He hadn’t been gentle with the glass dildo.

Woody shook his head. “Please. I want you.” He lifted Woody’s feet and placed them on the bed, his knees pushed as wide as he could get them. He twisted and surged the glass erotically in and out of his ass, charging him up again. Woody’s expressions showed a whole catalogue of pain, pleasure, anticipation, desire. Before removing the lovely toy completely, he angled it around just inside the pucker, stretching Woody so his cock, much thicker than the glass, would fit.

Quickly donning a rubber and slathering himself and Woody with more lube, he rolled the dildo to the side and fingered the sweet hole, stroking shallowly inside the way he had with the plug. There was no barrier to reaching the P-spot. He pulsed against it and was rewarded with Woody’s groan and the resurgence of his cock.

“Jesus. Would you fuck me already?”

“You’re a demanding man.” Mack took a second to croak out a laugh at Woody’s order and the desperation in his dark, glittering eyes. He lined up the head of his cock and thrust it, with one smooth, forceful push, all the way in to the hilt. “God, you’re tight. Hot.” The son of a bitch was squeezing his cock almost painfully. “So good. So goddamned good.” He balanced above the kid on outstretched arms, not moving, feeling Woody’s rectal channel spasm around his prick.

He was in so tightly Woody couldn’t move either. Mack’s jaw clenched, back teeth ground together, he looked down at where they joined before dragging his gaze up.

Woody stared at him, his brown eyes clear and challenging, wanting and challenging. He was also lying submissively, his teeth bared, hanging onto his control, waiting for Mack to take charge. His
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penis throbbed and thickened deep inside. Always the aggressor with other men, he fucked them from behind. Face-to-face was too intimate.

Face-to-face was too profound.
Son of a bitch! This isn’t intimate
or profound or anything like love. No fucking way.

Mack let his angry fear lead him. He’d prove this was lust, desire for this man’s ass and cock. That’s all. It wasn’t better than any other man’s ass and cock. He pulled his hips back, biting down on his lip at the sensation, left the head of his dick poised, squeezed just inside Woody’s entrance.

“Please.”

That one begging word from Woody’s tight, straining throat roared through Mack’s body. He intended to fuck this man for as long and hard as he could, so neither would ever forget. “You’d better be ready.” He saw Woody’s lips move silently in another plea as Mack shoved back in, pumping steadily and slowly at first, then fast and frantic until he felt the liquid heat blast through the trail deep inside his scrotum to erupt from his cock in hot, powerful torrents.

Played out but still connected, Mack collapsed, trying to calm his heart rate and breathing. He didn’t worry about crushing Woody. The man was as big and strong as he was. Woody’s arms wrapped around him, legs around his calves, holding him in the first moment of peace he’d ever felt in another man’s arms.

Fuck! Got to get out of here.
It was so much more than he could handle.

* * * *

Woody hadn’t missed the fact that Mack never relinquished control through the whole experience. His body ached and fizzed blissfully with what Mack and he had done, and that was all ruined by morning.

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Mack had run away in the middle of the night. No cuddling. No sleeping over. No sleeping at all.

Woody was through with it. He didn’t know why Mack seemed totally averse to a relationship. Maybe he’d been hurt in the past.

Maybe he just didn’t care enough about Woody. After all, Brad hadn’t. Running into his former lover the night before had hurt. His pain and vulnerability had opened him to another round with Mack.

But no more. He’d mistaken Mack’s look of desire for something deeper. Just because he wanted a relationship with another man and wanted a repeat with Mack didn’t mean Mack was the right man.

The cold and damp of early morning went right through his heavy jacket. He’d wrapped the cashmere scarf, a gift from his sister, around his neck and hustled toward the station. Damn, he hated a dreary, gray day like this. It made him feel lonesome.

Before he reached the station doors, Mack’s car swung into the parking lot. Hot sex notwithstanding, Mack’s leaving afterward, every time, infuriated him. He had feelings. He had feelings for Mack, but he wasn’t going to accept being dismissed. Not any longer. If that was all it meant to Mack, then fuck him. And not in a good way.

He strode toward Mack. They would have this out before going inside. “Penchant,” he growled and ignored Mack’s wary glance. “I don’t know what you think this is”—he flipped his forefinger back and forth between them—”but apparently it means a little more to me than it does to you. I don’t know what you’re used to, but I’m not some pickup, and I don’t like being treated like one.” Mack’s gaze was stone hard.

Woody felt himself losing control. It was likely he’d say things he’d regret later, but to hell with that. “‘I don’t know exactly what happened to you in the past, but I’m not into hit-and-run relationships.” He spit the words out as quietly as he could. No one else was in the parking lot at the moment, but he still couldn’t risk someone overhearing them. “Are you that self-absorbed?”
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Mack glared, lips tight, blue eyes sparkling. “I can’t give you what you’re obviously looking for. I’m not relationship material.”

“Damn it.” Woody swallowed back his frustration and anger.

“Why do you feel you’re not relationship material, Mack? I’m just curious. Because your mother wasn’t there for you?”

“I don’t need anyone
there
for me,” Mack snarled, turning as if to escape.

“That’s not true. Your fellow Marines were there for you.” Mack stopped, didn’t turn around, but he didn’t walk away.

“Your fellow cops are. I could be if you’d let me. You don’t have to be alone in this world, Mack.” He’d said all he could and certainly more than he’d meant to. It was up to Mack to listen. “One more thing. I’m still not into one-night stands no matter how much I’m tempted. Don’t try that again.” He glared at Mack a moment longer to make sure his message was clear, turned on his heel, and stalked away.

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“Woody, do you know where Penchant is?” He stifled a sigh at Fred’s question. This was just wrong. He couldn’t work like this, always dreading the sight of Mack or the possibility of being teamed with him. He needed to make a decision about a transfer. “No,” he snapped, then decided he’d better chill.

“Haven’t seen him all day.”

“I need you to pick up these two.” Fred handed him mug shots.

“I’ll get someone else to team with. I have no idea where Mack is.”

“I don’t like this. He’s not answering his cell or his pager. Swing by his place and see if he’s there. If he’s not, let me know.”
Son of a bitch,
Woody fumed. Now he could add babysitting to his resume. And his niece, Evie, was much more pleasant to be with.

Woody drove down the street. Two-flats and low-rise apartment buildings lined each side. Pulling in next to the curb, he spotted Mack strolling easily along the sidewalk. Last night’s snow had been shoveled off the cement, but it looked like he had a big snowball at his feet.

Good Lord, it was a dog. Popping out of his car, he leaned back against the door, crossed his arms over his chest, and waited. Mack didn’t see him at first.

“Are you kidding me? It looks like you have one of my sister’s old fuzzy bedroom slippers there.”

Mack’s head came up, at first surprised, then obviously scowling at him. “Shut up.”

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Woody chuckled. “Is he yours?” Surely, he was walking the little white fluff ball for an old lady neighbor.

“Yeah,
she’s
mine. Got a problem with that?”

“Touchy, touchy, man. I’m just having a hard time seeing you with such a…” He didn’t think he’d better finish that sentence. Mack looked murderous.

“You weren’t supposed to see her.”

Woody took that as a sharp jab to the heart. It was pretty clear Mack had no intention of ever opening up. Not even to let on that he owned a dog. Stunned into silence, he listened as Mack explained.

“I got her from a shelter. She kind of picked me. I don’t know why,” he blurted abruptly.

The day was cold and clear with bright sun and a sky so blue it hurt your eyes. Woody couldn’t see Mack’s expression behind the aviators. “What’s her name?” he asked in a small voice, sensing it was the best way to keep Mack talking. Maybe this was the way into his heart.

“Kiki.”

“Kiki?” Woody squatted down and ruffled the hair over her neck and around her ears. “Sorry for calling you a bedroom slipper. You’re much cuter than that.”

“Yeah. She was four when I got her, and it was too late to change her name,” he added almost defensively.

“Is this why you leave so fast?” The words were out before he could stop them.

“Partly.”

Partly.
Woody paused, but Mack didn’t elaborate.

“I have to walk her around the block. She hasn’t done her business yet.”

“Okay.”

“Why are you here, Kane?”

“Oh, yeah. Fred tried to reach you. Don’t you have your phone?”

“Jesus. I’m off duty. It’s upstairs.”

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“Okay, okay. No big deal.”

“What’s going on?”

Woody pulled out the mug shots. “We have to pick these guys up.”

“Okay. Come on, Kiki. Be a good girl and get it done. I’ve got to get you home.”

This time Woody couldn’t hold back his laughter, and he was gratified to see Mack smile. He hoped that meant the world hadn’t come to an end because his care for his dog had been discovered. As they paced behind Kiki, Woody asked, “What do you mean she picked you?”

Mack took a deep breath, looked out toward the street for a moment, and said, “She came right up to me and squatted to take a piss.”

“Got your attention, I guess.”

“Yup. Luckily, I got away in time, but then she put her paws on my leg with her tail whipping madly back and forth until I picked her up.” He shook his head. “I don’t really know what made me go into the shelter. I could hear the barking inside when I walked by.”

“I could see you with a Labrador or a shepherd.”

“Too much alpha testosterone in one apartment.” Mack shrugged.

“That I can believe. With this one, I think she’s top dog.”

“Yup,” Mack agreed. “No doubt about that, huh Kiki?” Woody, even though he’d sworn off thinking about a relationship with Mack, was thoroughly charmed by their few moments walking the dog. It felt good. No pressure, no sexual tension. Dare he think it could be friendship?

He waited in the car while Kiki was settled back in her apartment.

Mack took the passenger seat armed, cell phoned up, and ready to roll. “Do the other guys know about her?”

“No, and they’re not going to, are they?” he responded with a menacing glance.

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Woody had no real explanation for it, but knowing this little bit more about Mack felt good. He still wanted him but was beginning to think they could keep it at a friendship level. No sex.
Yeah. No, that’s
not going to work.

* * * *

Mack leaned his butt against his car in the station house parking lot and sipped his caramel macchiato. Big, fat snowflakes floated through the air in idle spirals. They weren’t too heavy this early in the day, and he hoped they’d slow down so people could get to their Thanksgiving dinners without accident. This day was generally relatively quiet with less traffic than usual and little crime. Black Friday changed all that, but it was still a whole day away. So he hoped to enjoy a peaceful day while it lasted.

He’d volunteered to change shifts with Rich, so he could spend the day with his family. It was better to be busy than to dwell on never having a normal kind of holiday. Or maybe that was bad, too.