Blind Spot (2 page)

Most of them were inexpensive, which was fine with Sam—a few books and Blu-rays he wanted, a couple gag gifts from his work friends—but when it came time for Nathan’s gift, Sam paused and weighed the small package in his hands.

On Christmas Nathan had given him a new laptop computer, an ultrathin silver model he’d secretly drooled over for months. He hadn’t exactly been able to reject the gift sitting in Nathan’s parents’ living room, but it was an extravagance he felt a little ridiculous accepting, seeing as his own gifts to Nathan—the new Murakami novel and a sweater Rachel had helped him pick out in a desperate dash to the mall—were worth barely a fraction of what Nathan had paid. Of course Nathan hadn’t seen the problem, but later, after Sam explained his embarrassment, he promised no more expensive gifts unless they agreed beforehand. He hoped Nathan had taken their talk seriously and that, when he opened this present, he wouldn’t be confronted with a gold watch or something equally lavish.

When he opened the package, he frowned down at a simple silver keychain. It gleamed in his fingers. The initials on it read S+N.

A few guests muttered things like “oh how nice,” but Sam could tell they weren’t impressed.

“Do you like it?” Nathan asked. He was fighting a smile. There was obviously more to this present than met the eye.

Sam nodded. “I love it.”

The DJ stopped the music again, and Sam looked around, waiting for someone else to stand up and make an embarrassing speech.

“You guys. You guys,” Rachel said, grabbing the microphone from the front of the room. “Shut up and listen. The mayor is dead.”

“Oh, come on, Rach,” Sam called out. “It may be my birthday, but murder’s taking it a little far.” A few laughs from people nearby slowly faded as Rachel shook her head and held up her phone.

“I’m not joking. It’s all over Twitter. Looks like he was found unresponsive in his home a couple hours ago.”

Sam exchanged a glance with Nathan. It was huge news. He grabbed his phone and started scrolling through the #RIPMayorWhite hashtag. There was no more information than what Rachel had announced, but Sam felt his blood fire up. Things had been quiet the last few weeks, and he’d been waiting for a big story.

“Looks like I’ve got to take off,” said Rivera, slapping Nathan on the shoulder.

“Of course. Let us know what’s going on, Tony.”

“You bet.”

Once Rivera was gone, the room erupted in conversation. At Sam’s prompting, Rachel turned on the bar TV and flicked to the news channels. It hadn’t yet reached the national level, but the local ten o’clock was reporting from St. Mary’s hospital.

The reporter talking to the studio newscaster cocked his head as he listened into his earpiece. “That’s right, Ted. Mayor White was apparently found in his bedroom by his wife earlier this evening.”

“Any word on cause of death yet, Brian?” the newscaster asked.

“No word yet, but there are rumors the mayor was suffering from angina over the past few months. It may have been a heart attack.”

“Very true,” said Ted the newscaster. “We know he was trying to get in shape and lose some weight under doctor’s orders. It’s been slow going because of his age.”

The mayor was sixty-three—a large man with a well-known passion for greasy double cheeseburgers. Heart attack did seem the most likely scenario. After a few more questions with not much detail provided from the on-ground reporter, Rachel turned the TV off and the music started back up. No one in the bar had much love for the mayor, whose policies had always favored the rich suburbs of West Stonebridge over the grittier downtown. While Sam wasn’t exactly fond of his deputy either, surely the guy couldn’t be worse than White. And then, during the next election cycle, maybe some new blood would have a chance.

“So, what do you think? You want to get out of here?” Nathan asked as the party started to break up.

“Hell, yeah.” Sam was itching to get back to his computer.

He said good-bye to everyone and followed Nathan into the pleasant May night. It would be another month or so before things heated up for the summer, and Sam enjoyed the temperate spring.

“I can’t believe the mayor’s dead,” he said, falling into step beside Nathan as they walked the seven blocks back to their place.

“You couldn’t have asked for a better gift.” Nathan elbowed his side.

“Oh, come on. I’m not heartless. But after what happened on Halloween, the guy was clearly unfit for office. He should have resigned months ago.”

“True.”

After the bombing of the Episcopal Church, Mayor White had received a ton of criticism from all sides. Sam had written a scathing piece on his blog, and even the normally pro-White
Gazette
had published some op-ed pieces condemning his decision to hold the Halloween block party, even though the arsonist terrorizing the city was still on the loose.

“Well, I’ll tell you what,” said Sam, “I’m not happy the guy’s dead, but maybe this is a blessing in disguise for the city.”

“Maybe so.”

“I wonder if Judy White’s down at the hospital. Maybe we can pop by quickly, see if she needs a shoulder to cry on?” If he could get the scoop straight from the mayor’s wife, leave the
Gazette
in the dust….

“No. Not tonight. You’re going to let it go for tonight.”

“But—”

Nathan shook his head. “It can wait. But I can’t.” He opened his hand. There, on the flat of his palm, was a small key. A frisson of excitement ran up Sam’s spine. He thought of the silver keychain.

“Is that for—”

“Yes.”

“Well, I suppose the mayor will still be dead in the morning.” Sam was buzzing with anticipation by the time they entered the building and hit the button for the elevator. He still got a kick out of living in a place that actually had one.

Upstairs their white cat, Shadow, was lounging sleepily on the rug near the door. She immediately sprang to her feet and began meowing for her dinner. Then she narrowed her blue eyes accusingly when neither paid her any attention.

“All right. All right,” Nathan said, picking her up. Then he looked at Sam. “I’m going to feed the cat first. You, go get into position and stay quiet. I don’t want to hear a sound.”

“With or without the blindfold?”

“With. Hold this key in your lips.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, sir.”

Sam’s belly swooped at Nathan’s dominant tone. “Okay, sir.” He quickly entered the bedroom, kicked off his shoes, and yanked his shirt over his head. The blindfold was in the black box they kept under the bed, along with the other equipment they used for play. Sam ran his fingers over the flat paddle Nathan gave him several months before. The smooth wood was cool to the touch, and he shivered remembering the first time they used it. He hoped they’d use it tonight.

After he grabbed the blindfold and undressed, he kneeled at the foot of the bed with his hands behind his head, cock already hard. The metallic taste of the key wasn’t pleasant, but Sam wasn’t about to disobey Nathan—he was too eager to see what it would unlock.

THE FIRST
thing Sam noticed the next morning was the pain in his muscles as he stretched. His ass was sore—in a good way. The next was the thin metal and leather band around his neck. They hadn’t taken it off after the session. Sam wanted to wear it as he slept, a reminder he belonged to Nathan, though Nathan had allowed him to keep the key as a gesture of good faith. It was the best gift he’d ever received and definitely the best birthday he could remember.

Feeling lonely on his side of the bed, Sam wriggled under the covers to get closer to Nathan. The sheets were empty and cold. He blinked and sat up. It was still early, and a vague light filtered in from beneath the blackout curtains. Otherwise, the room was dark and hummed with the sound of the air conditioner. Shadow was sleeping on Nathan’s pillow.

Figuring Nathan would be back to bed soon, Sam pulled the covers around him and let the previous night replay in his mind. A delicious heat ran through him when he remembered how Nathan had brought him to orgasm twice. How the collar felt when Nathan held it from behind as they fucked.

His morning erection pulsed with desire, and he squeezed it to relieve some of the pressure. He wanted Nathan to find him with his hand wrapped around his cock. Would he want to punish Sam for starting without him? Or would he enjoy the view and get his own cock out so they could watch each other jerk off? Sam loved seeing Nathan touch himself with those long, capable fingers.

But the anticipated toilet flush never came, and eventually Sam figured Nathan had gotten up for good. The distant smell of coffee percolating finally got him out of bed.

He grabbed a fresh pair of boxer briefs from the dresser and pulled them up over his hips, noting how enticing his boner looked—rock hard and tucked snugly up and to the right. With any luck, Nathan would want to get his mouth around it. Today was Sam’s official birthday, after all. He deserved a morning BJ.

Before he exited the bedroom, he caught a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror. He paused. His eyes were feverish—a brighter green then their usual hazel—and his lips were swollen. When he turned, he noticed some red marks on his back. They were fading and likely wouldn’t bruise, but he wouldn’t be taking his shirt off around anyone but Nathan for the next couple days.

He brought his fingers to the silver and black leather collar. It was about a half-inch wide, resting just beneath his Adam’s apple, and the leather was smooth and supple. On the front it held a small embossed plate with their initials, like the keychain. At the back was a loop that Sam suspected was for a leash. Nathan had finally confessed he’d had it custom made. Sam smiled. Twenty-nine was going to be a good year.

Nathan was on the phone in the living room. He didn’t look up when Sam entered, but from his body language, Sam could tell something was wrong. His first thought was something had happened to Nathan’s parents. But even though Nathan was frowning, he didn’t look devastated, as he certainly would if he’d heard bad news about his folks. He noticed Sam and held up a finger. Obviously he wanted privacy.

Sam went into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee and try not to eavesdrop. Though, if Nathan was talking to Rivera about the mayor’s death, he wanted to know about it. The conversation continued for another couple of minutes, barely audible. If it wasn’t about the mayor, it had to be work—a new case, perhaps. Otherwise Nathan’s boss would never call on a Sunday. A bag of fresh chocolate croissants from Franco’s was set on the marble countertop, and Sam pulled one out and started to munch the flaky awesomeness. He made himself focus on the sweet gesture and not on whatever Nathan was saying. If it was important, they’d talk about it.

Nathan joined him a couple minutes later, looking tired. When he saw Sam eating, he smiled and came forward, using his thumb to swipe a bit of chocolate from the corner of Sam’s mouth.

“Tasty?” Nathan asked.

“Yeah. They’re awesome. Thanks. When did you get up?”

“Oh, about an hour ago. I thought you might want to sleep in after last night.” His eyes went right to the collar. He seemed pleased Sam was still wearing it.

Sam set down the rest of his pastry, grabbed Nathan by the hips, pulled him closer, and nudged his semi against Nathan’s pelvis. “I’d rather go for round two. Maybe you’ll let me fuck you this time.”

Though Nathan smiled, the expression didn’t reach his eyes. He was stiff in Sam’s embrace. And not in the good way.

“What’s going on, Nathan?”

A line creased the skin between Nathan’s eyebrows. Nathan poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. “We need to talk.”

“I hate when you say that. It’s never good news.”

“I’ve got a case.”

Sam’s stomach dropped three stories and was crushed under the weight of a cement truck. He held his breath. “Oh?”

“They want me to go undercover again.”

“I see.” The thing he’d worried about for months was finally happening. He had told himself he would deal with it, but it was easier to be brave when contemplating hypotheticals. “What’s the case?” he asked, trying for nonchalant as the blood drained out of his face. So this was what it felt like to be yanked out of complacency.

“I don’t know many details yet, but there’s a ‘gentlemen only’ pop-up club in southern Jersey, and the local cops suspect illegal activity. Probably prostitution, but more than likely underage sex. Don’t know if it’s child trafficking, but they want me to scope it out.” He paused and swallowed. “With a partner.”

For a crazy moment, Sam wondered if Nathan was going to ask him, and his heart leapt with relief and excitement. But the grim set of Nathan’s mouth stopped the thought in its tracks.

“I see.” Sam gripped the counter with both hands, digging his fingers into the sharp corner to stop himself from thinking. A partner. Nathan touching someone else. Doing the things Sam and Nathan did together—the things that were
theirs
.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“What is there to say?” Sam’s mouth was dry and sickly sweet from the pastry. “You’ve got a job to do.” It wouldn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. Nathan loved him. Nothing would change it, not even sex with someone else. He gritted his teeth at the lie while his gut threatened to regurgitate the now-hated croissant.

“And you’re not angry?” Nathan arched a skeptical brow.

“I knew this might happen when we got started.” And it had been titillating at first, when Nathan told Sam all about his undercover work. How he learned to dominate his partners. Hearing about his training with a dominatrix on the West Coast. Imagining all the people Nathan had slept with in order to get deeper into the organization and discover the rotten secret at its core. Children. Children who were stolen from—and sometimes even sold by—their families, forced into sex work with little chance of escape.

How could Sam tell Nathan no, he couldn’t do his job?

“Who’s the partner?” he asked instead.

“Name’s Eric. I’ve known him for years, but he usually works in the Midwest. He’s a character. Not my type, by the way.”