Taking In Strays

Donny had finally come out to his father, hoping for acceptance. His father, the mayor, had cared more about re-election. Donny suddenly finds himself homeless, and on the street with a few dollars to his name. Face first in a gutter, after drowning his sorrows in cheap booze and cheaper sex, Donny is saved by Officer Peter Parker, a straight laced, by the book man who is everything that Donny wasn’t.

At first, Donny tries to use him, just as he had used everyone else in his life, but he soon discovers that he has feelings for Peter. To win Peter’s love, Donny believes that he can change, that he can learn to be the man that Peter deserves. There are obstacles to his goal, though, life itself trying to trip him up and make him revert back to the selfish man that he used to be and a father who will stop at nothing to remove a son who is still too much of an embarrassment.

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.

Taking In Strays

Copyright © 2012 by Della Boynton

Cover illustration by Scarlet Tie Designs: Zathyn Priest copyright © 2012

Edited by Gay Sherman

ISBN#978-0-9744160-9-0

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof, in any form.

Published by Bon Publishin
g Company

in association with Produx House, Corp.

P. O. Box 3847

Ft. Myers, Fl.33918

www. bonpublishing.com

Kindle and Nook books by Kracken:

Ajay Kavanagh Detective series: Tapping Darkness, Fortune’s Lightning, Foxtale’s Folly

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Printed works: The Angel Within, available through Bon Publishing.

Chapter One

“Shit
!
It’s
the Mayor’s son. What are the odds?”

The voice was deep and rumbly. It penetrated Donny’s drunken haze, making him pay attention to the world, when two bottles of Jack had firmly made it all go away. That wasn’t exactly a good thing. His face was pressed to freezing concrete, he smelled something unpleasant that might be himself, and his mouth tasted like road kill.

A different, lighter voice, with a Jersey accent, said, “You were up for that promotion to the mayor’s security detail. This’ll kill it for sure, if you take him to the drunk tank and his daddy hears about who the arresting officer is.”

“That’s supposed to matter? Aren’t we supposed to follow the letter of the law?” The deep voice was pleasant, even while the man was being righteously altruistic, and it caused Donny to wake up a little more. He opened eyes and saw a man in uniform crouching by him. He turned his head just enough to confirm that it hurt like hell and that the owner of that voice was just as handsome as he sounded.

Big, body builder physique, squared off chin, blue eyes, and a blonde crew cut made the police officer every inch a wet dream. Donny could imagine the man dancing and stripping center stage at Chippendale’s and having people eagerly stuff bills into a generously filled g-string.

“He’s not going to throw up, is he?” the other man, a rather portly, older officer wondered in disgusted concern. “He looks kind of green and glassy eyed.”

Green, because the constant thump of a bass reminded Donny that he had gone to a club that night to get plastered and then laid, in that order. You didn’t tell dear old bigoted dad that you were gay, and not have the shit hit the fan. Sick pervert had been the least of the insults in his father’s hour long tirade. Donny’s pure,
fuck you
, attitude, had gone into overdrive, after that and he had decided to get drunk and screwed where the press was sure to hear about it. Donny hoped that they had taken some clear photos of the elderly business man that he had chosen to hump his ass behind the club.

His ass still hurt. Lack of lube and a sideways bent of that runt cock, had hit nerves unpleasantly. Sucking it had been an easier task. Barely a mouthful, it had been even more unpleasant to hear the man call him
son,
with a southern accent
,
and insist that he look up at him while he forced Donny’s mouth, up and down on him, with a hand to the back of his head. The stand up fuck, afterward, had been awkward, but quick.

Passing out in a dark, cold ally hadn’t been part of the plan, that night, but Donny’s body had improvised, it seemed. Donny hoped that no one had taken advantage of him while he had been cement napping. That part of town, after all, was well known for
anything goes
hookups.

“Take him home,” the overweight officer suggested. “Who’s to know? We’re just supposed to get him off the street. We don’t have to take him to the drunk tank.”

“You want me to take him to
my
home?” the deep voice of the blonde officer went down a notch in a deep growl of disapproval.

The portly officer snorted. “I didn’t say that, dumb ass. I said, home, as in his home, or to a hotel. He’s the mayor’s son. He’s probably loaded with cash.”

“Are you suggesting that I not write a report?”

“I’m suggesting that it’s as criminal as tearing the tag off of a mattress. We haven’t called this in, yet,
Officer Parker
. No one is expecting us to show up with a drunk,” the older man pointed out.

Parker. Donny grabbed onto that bit of information as he slowly managed to sit up with the man’s help. He didn’t want to go to jail. This man had the potential to be his savior. “Officer Parker?” Donny was glad to sound shaky and still very drunk as he pleaded, “Please don’t arrest me. My dad will kill me. The press…” He made a well played, fearful visual circuit of the dimly lit back alley, full of discarded used condoms, beer bottles, and cigarette butts. At the end of it, cars and people were passing by, backlit by street lights.

“You might be injured,” Parker pointed out reasonably. “I think you’re too drunk to make any sound decisions. I’ll be responsible if something goes wrong.”

“I’m fine, “Donny insisted, even though he was feeling far from it. He reached out to put a hand on the officer’s face, his green eyes begging for the man’s sympathy. Donny felt stubble, and the clench of a jaw, as the man tried to make the right decision. “Please?” Donny begged again giving his voice all of the desperation that he could muster.

The jaw clenched even tighter and then Officer Parker gave a tight nod of assent. Donny didn’t have to fake an expression of relief. He’d never seen the inside of a jail cell, but he’d heard enough graphic third hand stories of what might be in store for a slightly built gay man, to make him want to avoid it.

“Just until you sober up,” Parker warned gruffly as he pulled Donny’s hand away from his face. “I’m off my shift, anyway, in an hour. Daniels can cover for me.”

“Watch it, Parker!” Daniels joked. “Don’t go too far over to the dark side.”

Parker winced and glared as the other officer chuckled. When Parker’s blue eyes returned to Donny, Parker asked, dubiously, “Can you get up?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Donny slurred, but he ended up needing the man’s big, muscled arm to support him as he rose unsteadily to his feet.

After that, the trip in the patrol car was lost in a haze. Donny dozed in the back seat, smelling things that rivaled his own stench; a smell that recalled other drunks taken on the same ride to precinct headquarters. His ride was going to end differently, though.
Officer Stud
was going to take him home. He hadn’t necessarily said that it would be Parker’s home, but Donny was willing to try to sway the man’s mind in that direction. His own home was definitely off limits and a hotel room was equally unappealing. That would mean being alone with his thoughts and his thoughts were as destructive as ignited jet fuel.

Arriving at precinct headquarters, an ancient Greek revival building darkened with years of car exhaust and cobbled together with a utilitarian parking garage, they left
Officer Overweight
behind. Climbing into a car that was plain gray and had most likely been chosen for its gas mileage, Donny buckled up and tried to find a comfortable spot to lean into in order to sleep some more. He snuck a glance at that iron jawed profile belonging to Officer Parker. Upstanding, moral, by the book, Donny guessed that the man probably didn’t have so much as a parking ticket. In fact, deciding to walk on the wrong side of the law just to take a drunk to a place where he could sober up, was probably as out of character for that man as walking on the moon.

Donny didn’t consider himself bad looking. He had rough cut, spiky black hair, green eyes, pale skin, and an overly slim physique. He was almost
emo,
but
emo
with an edge. He certainly wasn’t showing his charms at the moment, though. His jeans sported a hole at the knee, with filth ground in from his fall, and his torn black shirt that was probably slated for the nearest land fill. He also stunk like booze and back ally sex. If Parker was risking anything by taking him home, it wasn’t a risk that he was taking because he had the
hots
for him, Donny thought glumly.

“Where’s your home?” Donny asked, trying to pull himself together.

“Fifth and Jackson,” Parker replied absently, his eyes never leaving the road as they left the parking garage and pulled into traffic.

“My home’s a lot further,” Donny said, and then anxiously, “My dad won’t be thrilled to see me. Can I crash at your place? I promise that I won’t throw up on anything and I’ll leave quietly after I sober up.”

Parker frowned, hands flexing a little on the steering wheel. “I don’t feel comfortable-“

“I’m afraid of my dad,” Donny said bluntly, cutting him off. “I told him that I was gay, tonight. He went ballistic. If I try to go home now, he might beat the crap out of me.”

Parker’s frown deepened, his knuckles going white as he clenched them on the steering wheel. Donny’s words had struck a nerve. The man was clearly disturbed by the accusation. “That’s a serious charge,” he said carefully. “I should take you back to the station. If you file a report-“

“File a report against the Mayor?” Donny snorted derisively. “You didn’t want to piss him off. Other people will feel the same way and not do anything about it.” He reached out and put a warm hand on Parker’s arm. “Please, let me stay with you for a few hours? I’ll contact some friends in the morning and find another place to stay.”

Parker considered it. Donny imagined him going over every bad scenario in his head, before he turned the wheel and took a right. “This is against my better judgment,” he said as if needing to make that clear, “but I admit that you may be right. I think a few hours at my home, until you sober up enough to call your friends, or decide to file a report with the police, will be better for you than the drunk tank.”

“I promise, that you won’t regret your decision,” Donny said with a grin. He made a
cross my heart and hope to die
motion over his chest while he marveled at how gullible the man was for a cop. The grin stayed on his face as he curled up against the passenger side door and fell asleep.

“Take a shower,” or, at least, that was the last thing that Donny remembered, before someone was waking him and getting him off of the shower stall floor.

Where? How? Why? All questions that Donny’s mind struggled to answer as he fought with the plain, tan shower curtain, that swatted him in the face, tangled with his nude body, and then slid away as a big hand pushed it back impatiently. Subway tile, white floor and ceilings, grout old and discolored, toilet seat up, tooth brush in a holder on the sink; everything looked and smelled comfortably male. When a wet Parker leaned into his vision, looking concerned, Donny remembered.

“Hello hot cop,” Donny surprised himself by giggling. Yes, he thought, as Parker looked at him uncertainty, the two bottles of jack were still firmly in control. His mouth had a mind of its own; a dirty one. “You took me home? Have we had sex yet?”

The man blinked, wide eyed at him for a moment and then sighed and snagged a clean towel. Well, not so clean, Donny amended as he smelled one or two uses on the cloth that rubbed briskly over his wet body. That contact woke up his
second in command
.