Spark & Blaze (A Guns & Hoses Novel) (19 page)

BOOK: Spark & Blaze (A Guns & Hoses Novel)
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Evan used only his mouth to suck on Brett while he unlaced and removed his lover’s boots before he pushed jeans and boxer briefs toward the floor. He didn’t take Brett into his hand until the man stepped out of his jeans, underwear, and he removed Brett socks.

“Fuck,” Brett moaned and pulled on Evan shoulders to urge him to stand.

“Uh huh,” Evan grunted and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. “Off,” he ordered and tugged at Brett shirt.

Once he was fully naked, he maneuvered them both into the shower. The hot water felt wonderful and for several minutes, Brett just held his man while the steam misted around them. They were both still aroused, but the desperation they felt only moments before was gone. Both men held one another and the gentle swaying, the slow rocking, that pressed their bodies together was enough for the moment. However, that moment didn’t last long.

Evan sucked on Brett’s pec and rubbed his aching cock against his boyfriend’s to get the friction he sought. The moan that escaped his lover’s throat encouraged him to lower his mouth to Brett’s nipple. He took the pebbled bud between his lips and nibbled it with his teeth.

The groan that escaped Brett’s lips sounded loud to his ears. Loud or not, he couldn’t have stopped the sound that Evan’s mouth around his nipple caused him to utter.

“Shit,” Brett cursed at the same time he moved his hand between them to take both their hard cock’s into his hand.

“Oh, fuck,” Evan hissed around the hard nipple that still rested between his teeth when he felt Brett’s hand wrap around him.

His body reacted without thought and he thrust into the grip that surrounded him. The hard smoothness on the underside of his throbbing cock contrasted deliciously with the calloused palm of Brett’s hand that pressed them together so tightly.

Brett felt Evan’s thrust and matched it with one of his own while he tightened his grasp around them both. Brett kept his free arm wrapped around Evan shoulders to keep his boyfriend close, to keep his lover’s mouth exactly where he wanted it to be.

Evan let himself fall into the rhythm of Brett’s stroking hand and thrusting hips. The sensation of feeling his lover’s silky hardness gliding against his was mind blowing. So mind blowing that Evan was caught off guard when his orgasm flooded out of him. He clung to Brett in a desperate attempt not to crash to the shower floor because his knees became so weak.

Brett wasn’t expecting the warm wetness that exploded over his hand to happen so soon after pressing Evan’s cock against his and stroking them together. Still, expecting the cum that now slicked his fingers and dripped off his abs, didn’t matter when he felt Evan’s knees buckle. His orgasm wasn’t of any importance and instinctively he reached out to prevent his boyfriend from crashing to his knees on the hard tile of his shower floor.

Evan rode out the ecstasy of his orgasm without any thought that Brett was keeping him upright. When reality reasserted itself, Evan leaned back. He was aware of Brett’s hand still wrapped around their cocks. Around his softening dick and Brett’s still rock hard erection.

“Let me...” Evan tried to move his hand from Brett’s hip to get between where their hips were still plastered together.

“Shh,” Brett hushed his boyfriend since he knew exactly what Evan was going to say and what he was attempting to do.

“But...”

“I’m okay,” Brett interrupted. “And right now I want to take my boyfriend to bed so we can get some sleep before our shift in the morning.”

Evan looked up and met Brett’s dark chocolate gaze. All he saw was love and a small voice in the back of his mind told him he couldn’t possibly be seeing the emotion he thought he saw. It was way too fucking soon, but the longer he looked into Brett’s eyes, the more he was convinced that the emotion he saw was more than just what he wished to see.

“Boyfriend?” Evan grinned and raised a brow.

“Yeah,” Brett replied with a smile before he turned off the shower. “Let’s go to bed, babe.”

“Okay,” Evan agreed and couldn’t stop the sappy grin that spread his lips.

Brett turned off the shower and dried them both off before he led Evan to his bedroom. They didn’t speak before or after Brett settled them both into his queen-size bed. In fact, no words were exchanged as Brett spooned Evan close to his body and they both drifted off to sleep.

 

 

Both of them felt like roadkill when they walked into the station for their shift. They weren’t the only ones either if the bags under Flame’s eyes were anything to go by.

“You guys should know better by now than to party all night before we have a shift,” Bancroft laughed as he looked between the three of them. “Hope it’s a slow shift for your sakes.”

“Fuck you, Bancroft,” Flame called out to their co-worker’s retreating back while he reached for the coffee pot.

“You couldn’t handle this, Flame.” Bancroft’s playful words and laughter echoed down the stairs toward them.

“Ass,” Flame muttered with no heat in his tone before a grin spread his lips. “You guys holding up okay?”

“We’re fine.” Evan frowned.

“Good.” Flame grinned and filled the mugs they had sat on the counter. “Let’s hope today’s quiet because I don’t know about you two, but I feel like I already need a nap.”

“No shit.” Brett chuckled.

 

 

The shift was anything but slow or quiet. The tones for a call went off before anyone at the station had a chance to finish their first cup of coffee. Medical calls seem to come in the moment they all got settled back at the station and started to relax. The chaos of the shift finally gave them a break around dinnertime.

Evan flopped down on the couch and rested his head back. The smell of food from the kitchen made his stomach growl loudly, but the desire to close his eyes for a moment trumped his need to eat.

“Here.”

Evan opened his eyes to see Brett standing in front of him holding a plate of sausage, peppers, and onions over rice. In his other hand, he held a Gatorade. He gave his boyfriend a smile as he sat up and took the plate and drink.

“Thanks.”

Brett nodded and returned Evan’s smile before he turned to make his own plate. After he retrieved his food, he took a seat next to his boyfriend.

They ate in silence while they listen to the guys around them bullshit about various things. It was business as usual at the station so Brett wasn’t surprised when the captain called out to him while he was taking their dirty dishes to the kitchen.

“Malone, you and Carmichael help Peters restock.”

“Alright.”

Normally, Peters’ partner Anderson would help him restock the ambulance, but Anderson was out sick. They were rotating who drove the ambulance so Peters could tend to the patients. Evan and Peters were already in the truck bay by the time Brett finished putting his and Evan’s dinner dishes in the dishwasher.

“I’ll pull the truck out,” Peters said. “It’s too fucking hot in this bay to restock.”

Once the truck was out of the bay, Peters opened up all the compartment doors, as well as the back doors. He had a clipboard in his hand when he turned to them.

“This shouldn’t take us too long.”

For fifteen minutes, Peters read off the supplies they needed to retrieve to restock the ambulance. Evan was just returning with several packs of sterile gauze when he noticed the police cruiser that had parked in one of the visitor spots in front of the station. His stomach clenched because he had no doubt they were there because of the stalker shit that was fucking up his life.

When Goldstein and Silverstone stepped out of the cruiser, Evan handed off the supplies and moved to intercept them. The last thing he wanted or needed, was for the guys at the station to know what the hell was going on.

“Mr. Carmichael,” Officer Goldstein greeted. “We have a few more questions for you after what happened last night and wanted to give Mr. Malone the information on where we impounded his car.”

Brett had followed Evan toward the cops and reached the three men just as Officer Goldstein finished speaking.

“And this had to be done where I work?” Evan wasn’t happy and knew his tone conveyed as much.

“We knew you’d both be here,” Officer Silverstone grinned. “Plus for all your co-workers know, we’re just some friends who had time to kill so we stopped by to say hi.”

Brett couldn’t help but grin at the younger cop’s effort to diffuse Evan’s temper.

“Hey,” Peters poked his head around the ass end of the ambulance and caused all four men to look in his direction. “I only need a few more things, but I’ll get them so you guys can bullshit with your friends.” Peters gave them a wide smile.

“See?” Silverstone chuckled.

“Thanks, Peters. I’ll buy you a beer the next time were at...”

Pop. Pop.

Brett never had the chance to finish replying to Peters before a searing pain ripped through his thigh. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The pain tore through his thigh and he grasped his leg, Goldstein and Silverstone ducked and drew their weapons, Peters shouted, and Evan became so pale that Brett wasn’t sure how he was still standing. All of that Brett seemed to take in at a glance before he fell to the ground and time snapped back to normal speed.

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

 

 

 

Fro
m
where Brett collapsed to the concrete he could see Officer Silverstone urge Evan to duck and run toward the truck bay. Officer Goldstein’s movement caused him to look away from Evan. The cop was crouched in front of him, gun drawn in one hand while the other pressed the button on the mic that was clipped to his epaulet. The screech of tires barely registered in Brett’s ears while he pushed on the bleeding hole in his thigh.

“Let me go!”

Brett turned his head at Evan shout. Officer Silverstone was trying to force Evan behind the ambulance and he could see Peters grabbing a jump kit from the side of the unit.

“Get him inside,” Brett yelled as if he needed to tell Silverstone how to do his job.

“Shit.”

Brett looked away from Evan and Officer Silverstone to see Officer Goldstein holstering his weapon. The cop was still crouched down next to him and looked between where he had been shot to his face.

“How bad is it, Malone?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Brett answered sarcastically. “My boyfriend’s stalker spray-painted my car, burnt down his house, and has now shot me. So, how fucking bad is it?”

Officer Goldstein chuckled and it wasn’t the response Brett had expected from the man. Somehow, the man’s mirth helped Brett relax.

“Fuck, Malone,” Peters’ curse pulled Brett’s attention away from Officer Goldstein.

Peters’ dropped down next to him and wasted no time using the trauma scissors to cut through Brett’s work pants. Brett winced as his leg was jostled even though he knew Peters was being gentle.

“Shit!” Brett almost shouted when he felt Peters’ gloved hand palpitating the back of his thigh.

“It went through,” Peters informed him and Brett knew that the bullet passing through his thigh was a good thing.

“Good, now stop fucking touching it,” Brett hissed out between his clenched teeth.

He never had more than a stubbed toe, a broken pinky finger, and a sprained wrist. The pain in his thigh was a thousand times worse than all of those combined.

Peters chuckled and Brett glared at the medic. “Gonna start a line and give you something for the pain,” Peters informed him around a grin that spread his lips though his eyes were full of concern.

Brett held out the arm that wasn’t attached to the hand that was currently applying pressure to the bleeding hole in his leg. A small prick on the back of his hand was all he felt before the I.V. catheter was taped in place. Brett watched Peters hook up the I.V. before he filled the syringe with what Brett was sure would be some awesome pain relief. He wasn’t wrong when he felt the warm sting travel through the vein in his arm.

Brett was vaguely aware of Peters and Officer Goldstein laying him flat on the concrete at the same time as he noticed his co-workers starting to congregate around him. The one face he didn’t see, but wanted to see, hell, needed to see, wasn’t there.

Where Evan was, Brett didn’t know, but what he did know was that as much as he wanted to see his boyfriend’s face, the fact that he wasn’t standing with their co-workers was a good thing. It meant his lover was safe. Just knowing that Evan was inside the station, safe from any harm, allowed Brett to finally succumb to the high the paramedic gave him and he closed his eyes.

The next time Brett opened his eyes he was staring up at a ceiling he recognized as an E.R. bed bay. The groan that escaped his throat wasn’t because of pain because surprisingly he felt almost no pain in his leg where he had been shot.

“I am so sorry!” Evan rushed to Brett side and took his hand the moment he heard his boyfriend make the noise that tore at his heart.

“Not your fault, babe.”

Brett squeezed his hand and Evan couldn’t understand how any part of his boyfriend being shot in the leg and lying in a hospital bed wasn’t his fault. If he didn’t have some psycho whack job stalker trying to stake a claim on him then his lover wouldn’t currently be lying in the hospital with a hole in his leg.

“Don’t.”

Brett squeezed Evan’s hand again to get his attention. He could see his boyfriend blaming himself and the guilt he saw across Evan’s sexy face was not at all attractive or warranted.

“This shit isn’t your fault.” Brett tugged on Evan’s hand until the man’s pale gray eyes raised and met his. “It’s not.”

“How can you say that? If I would have just gone...”

The broken sound of Evan’s voice when he spoke broke Brett’s heart. Before he was shot, Evan knew he hadn’t done anything to attract the asshole who was stalking him. He also refused to let the fucker change how he lived. Now, Brett knew that was no longer the case. The psycho had gotten to Evan by hurting him, but Brett wasn’t about to let the asshole win by letting Evan question who he was or the decisions he made.

“You think going with him when he grabbed you would have been better?”

Brett pulled his hand free of Evan’s grasp. He was getting more and more pissed. Not only at Evan for thinking he should have just meekly gone with the asshole, but for the uncertainty he now not only saw, but felt in his lover. The man who sat next to his hospital bed was not the same man he had left Bradley’s with only a few days ago.

Unlike Brett, Evan didn’t hesitate in his attraction. He may have been straight, might now only be bi, but he never feared what others would think of him if they knew about his attraction to men. Evan didn’t hide in a closet like Brett once he realized he wanted to be with him.

No, Evan grabbed his attraction to Brett by the balls and just went with it regardless of the consequences. However, that Evan wasn’t the man who sat at his bedside and held his hand. This Evan blamed himself for what had happened and Brett could feel the guilt rolling off his boyfriend as if it were a physical thing.

“If I just went with him, you wouldn’t be lying here with a hole through your leg,” Evan maintained so softly that Brett almost didn’t hear him.

“Or you can be dead right now,” Tig’s stern, pissed off voice caused them both to look toward the curtain that separated them from the rest of the E.R.

“I wouldn’t be dead,” Evan argued. “Not if he wants me.”

“You don’t know that,” Brett countered at the same time Tig replied, “No, but you might wish you were.”

“What? Why would some sick fuck who thinks I should love him want to kill me?”

Brett doubted his boyfriend even realized the high pitch of panic that echoed in his voice. Still, he moved his hand back to clasp Evan’s in an attempt to comfort the man he was now sure he loved.

“I talked to some detectives who normally deal with this sort of case,” Tig began as he stepped into the curtained off area. “They told me that no matter what the victim usually does to prove they want the stalker as much as the stalker wants them, it’s never enough.”

Tig met Brett’s gaze before his eyes shifted back to Evan’s. Brett tensed because he knew, just somehow knew, that whatever their friend was about to say next wouldn’t be good. He was right.

“Every stalker case my colleague is aware of where the victim submits to the stalker, the victim rarely survives.”

“What? What do you mean they rarely survive? If they play into the stalker’s needs and wants...”

Tig interrupted Evan’s attempts to argue, “It’s never enough. The stalker’s expectations are always too high. There is never a way for the object of their obsession to meet their expectations.”

“But...”

“There is no fucking
but
, Evan!”

Tig’s outburst seemed to take him by surprise as much as it took Brett and Evan. For several moments none of them spoke and if it weren’t for Flame poking his head between the curtains, the silence may have stretched on forever.

“We okay in here?” Flame asked, but they all knew he already knew the answer. “Doc says Malone can go home after he signs the forms.”

No one spoke when Flame joined them in the curtained off area of the E.R. bay. Once more the silence stretched to the point that Brett couldn’t stand it any longer.

“The sooner I can sign out, the better. All I want to do is go home.”

“About that.” Flame shot a glance at his boyfriend as if he was reassuring himself that he had backup for what he was about to say. “We think you should come stay with us.”

“What?”

Brett and Evan asked in sync and Brett was sure he heard the same shock that was in his tone echoed in Evan’s voice.

“Look,” Flame hurried to explain. “This asshole has already burned down Evan’s house and now he has attacked you at the station, Brett. I am pretty sure he knows where you live, Brett. So, if you come stay with us, at least you’ll be off this fuckwads’ radar for a while until they track this asshole down.”

Brett knew what Flame said made sense, but he was still surprised when Evan spoke in agreement.

“Okay.” Evan stared at the two men who had become close friends. “We’ll stay with you if you think it will keep this fucker away. If that’s not what you think, then I don’t want to put either of you at risk.”

“At risk or not, you’re staying with us until we catch this asshole,” Tig growled. They watched as Flame stepped closer to his boyfriend only moments before the curtain parted.

“Mr. Malone,” a chubby middle-aged nurse addressed Brett. “Dr. Patel has released you to go home. I have your wound care instructions and release forms.”

The next several minutes were filled with E.R. release babble. Brett played the yes-man like he was expected to do and didn’t argue the crutches the nurse gave him after he signed the forms that would allow him to leave. Finally, the woman left him alone and disappeared around the other side of the curtain.

“I’ll bring the car around,” Tig informed them and followed the nurse’s disappearing act through the curtain.

“You sure this is okay?” Evan asked Flame while he helped Brett sit up on the bed.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Flame countered with a smirk. “We’d never turn two hot guys in need away from a bed at our place.”

Brett’s face felt like it was on fire while he shifted his legs over the side of the hospital bed. Still, his embarrassment didn’t stop him from chuckling. That chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh the moment he looked up at Evan’s face. His boyfriend’s expression looked like he wasn’t sure if he should be embarrassed, worried, or turned on by Flame’s words.

“Then let’s go.” Brett forced himself to stand on his good leg and didn’t fight off Evan’s attempt to help him when his boyfriend slipped an arm around his waist.

“You know they are going to bring you a chair, right?” Flame snickered.

Brett shot his friend a glare because he knew the man was right even if he had no desire to ride out of the E.R. in a wheelchair.

“Can’t bring me one if I’m not here.” Brett forced himself to grin through the pain that suddenly made a reappearance

“True,” Flame agreed and stepped up to the other side of Brett to help him escape the E.R.

 

 

The guilt Evan felt over Brett didn’t lessen any after they arrived at Flame and Tig’s house. If anything, it increased. Not only had the sick fuck who was obsessed with him wrecked Brett’s sweet Camaro, but now the asshat had shot the man he loved. He didn’t even blink at the thought that he loved Brett. He just did. Sure, the fucker had burned his house down too, but it was what the psycho had done to Brett that disturbed him the most.

“Here’s the guestroom,” Flame indicated an open door along the hall. “Feel free to treat our place like your own. If you can’t sleep, the remotes for the TV are on the end table between the couches. If you’re hungry, help yourself to whatever is in the fridge.”

“Thanks,” Brett gave Flame a weak grin while he fought not to lean so heavily on Evan.

“If you guys need anything,” Flame looked between them and Brett was sure he had never seen his co-worker look so serious. “Just yell.” Flame gave them both a pointed look.

The only response Brett could offer under such an intense gaze from Flame was, “we will.”

“Good.” Flame stared at them for a second more before he turned around and headed down the hall to what Brett could only assume was the bedroom he shared with Tig.

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