Handcuffs and Lace 27 -Brass Balls (5 page)

Oak looked ready to fight, Wyatt noted. He stilled his thoughts long enough to study the other man. He’d been ready to come in here and set Oak back on track as the kid of his former partner. But it wasn’t a kid standing in the hallway glaring at him. It was a man with a full range of emotions hiding behind his gorgeous eyes.

His throat worked. “No?” the younger man rasped.
Oak rarely got angry. He’d seen it only a handful of times in almost twenty years. Mostly Oak played things off with a joke, a smile, a lighthearted camaraderie he’d always been a little envious of. To have all that charisma distilled into tight warring emotion and directed at Wyatt made his heart slam.
He’d seriously underestimated Oak.
Here he’d been thinking the kid was enjoying the game, a prod at his captain because of his familiarity with him, testing the waters to get under his skin in a new half-hearted prank revolving around sex play. From where he stood now, Wyatt decided it had been a lot more than that.
Nothing he’d wanted to say addressed it. He’d come, prepared to give Oak all the reasons he should stay away from him. The words had been skimming through his mind, wrapped up in his emotional panic that Oak’s persistence might melt his resolve and end up ruining a lifelong career as an officer as well as his years-long friendship with the Takalas.
What he found was a man half-dressed in his hallway, holding on to his dignity after a major embarrassment. It shut him right up. Sobered in the face of Oak’s pain, he realized none of the words were meant to help Oak. They’d only make that look deepen. Wyatt had been selfish.
“It can wait. Tonight’s not a good night,” Wyatt explained.
With a shout, Oak charged him, shoving him against the wall. Wyatt flipped him and wrestled until he had Oak’s arms pinned and his bare chest shoved against the cold plaster instead. He removed the gun from his waistband and tossed it to a near table.
Oak tried to twist away. Wyatt held him.
“That’s wood. You’ll scar it by throwing my gun on it,” he grumbled.
Wyatt shoved harder, leaning in to speak directly into the man’s ear. “I. Don’t. Care. You just tried to punch me. I could have your badge for that.”
“You’re messing with my head, asshole.”
Wyatt let him turn, barely giving him enough room before grabbing the man’s wrists and holding them over his head against the wall. Oak was baring his teeth and grunting his frustration at being helpless.
“Really?” Wyatt began. “Because that’s what I thought you were doing, or wasn’t that little late night visit to my apartment to see how far you could go?”
“I owed you a thank you and an apology.”
“Yet you stuck around and got in my face to see if I’d crack?” Wyatt pressed. “Not likely.”
His heart pounded like it wanted to be let out of his chest. In the tussle, Oak’s longish hair had fallen loosely over his face. His brown eyes had widened, and he hissed breath through his teeth. This close there was no denying that Oak was all man. Every trace of the kid had been transformed into bold Potawatomi Indian bone structure.
“I wasn’t sure,” the younger man defended.
“About what?”
The nostrils of Oak’s narrow nose flared with annoyance, and he lifted his chin defiantly. There was a delicacy in the man’s features and in the smoothness of his skin. The rest of his body was no different: sculpted in muted bronze, hairless, and utterly perfect. His gaze dropped below the beltline because his pants were undone and open, teasing Wyatt with a glimpse of black hair and flat belly. The muscles on his hips had arrowed a path to the hidden bulge still covered by jean.
He remembered clearly how Oak had looked entering the hall, and that memory coupled with the realization that Wyatt practically leaned against him, brought his cock to full wakefulness.
“If you were gay. I hoped, but I didn’t know.” Oak twisted his wrists in Wyatt’s grip but the fight had dimmed.
“You’d hoped,” Wyatt repeated, wanting clarity without actually phrasing a question for it.
Oak pushed his chest out, bumping it hard against Wyatt’s with another frustrated grunt. “The kiss, for fuck’s sake. I’d kissed you. I may have wanted to before, but I never did it. Then I got stupid-drunk, kissed you, and you didn’t take a swing at me.”
“I don’t hit drunks.”
“You didn’t hit me the next day when I tested the waters, either,” Oak challenged.
“I’ve known you and your impulsive streak long enough to know taking the bait in an argument will draw the thing out and become a game for you.”
Oak’s gaze darted over Wyatt’s face. His brows must have drawn up because Oak looked slightly hurt.
“You’re denying it?” Wyatt snapped.
Defeat lowered his eyes. “No. Not in the past. That time was different.”
“Why?”
Oak dropped his head back and closed his eyes. A huff escaped him. “Because if you didn’t mind the kiss, there was a chance of another one. I just needed to let you know I was interested.”
“You definitely did that, but it also felt like a joke to you.”
His eyes popped open. “It wasn’t. Okay? Are you happy now? Will you let me go and let me climb upstairs and wallow in my embarrassment?”
Embarrassment was the last thing Wyatt had been pushing for. Although right at this minute, he wasn’t sure what he’d been pushing for. The come-to-Jesus he’d intended to deliver had nothing to do with shoving Oak up against a wall and battling wits a few inches from his lips.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Wyatt told him.
“Sure,” Oak snarled. “That’s why you chose to plumb each other’s throats in my parent’s kitchen with three people a room away. You wanted to get caught. You wanted to make damn sure I got the message.” His hurried breaths puffed some of the dark strands off his cheek. “Guess what, Captain? Message received. Now let go of me and let me gather up my dignity if it still exists.”
This time when Oak bumped his chest out, Wyatt flattened him bodily to the wall. Air slammed out of Oak’s lungs and spilled over him. Torn between what he wanted to do and what he should do, Wyatt gave in to the stronger desire.
He took Oak’s mouth, crushing it with his own. The other man tensed at first but it didn’t take long for his lips to soften and move with Wyatt’s. Wyatt heard his own needy groan. The whisper of dread that John or Sheila might see, or might not approve, lingered at the back of his mind flavoring the kiss with the forbidden.
Oak’s lips pulled back and he bit the tip of Wyatt’s tongue before sucking it hungrily. Wyatt’s dick throbbed at the suggestion. He pushed their hips together, smiling when a soft cry came from the other man. It must have irritated Oak because he arched his neck, taking power of the kiss as though they were waging a war. Hard tooth scraped hard tooth. The edges caught his bottom lip and tugged.
Wyatt let go of his arms and held Oak’s face still, determined to wrangle a satisfying kiss from the man. He only managed to amp up his lust when kiss after kiss wasn’t enough to return him to his senses and make him
want
to stop.
He didn’t remember making the conscious choice to touch Oak. Nevertheless, his hands smoothed over his ribs and torso.
Oak seemed to have a better grip on himself, because he pried their bodies apart and shoved Wyatt back.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You couldn’t leave me alone? You had to go and pull a douchebag move to prove how much I want you?”
Wyatt’s head swam. “I
do
want you.”
He ran a hand through his hair and whirled away. He paced several steps and turned to face Oak again. Anger at himself welled up inside him. It
had
been a douchebag move.
Oak still leaned heavily against the wall. He narrowed his eyes on Wyatt disbelievingly.
“That’s the fucking problem, Oak. I
do
want you.” With a self-loathing grunt, he briefly linked his fingers behind his head before dropping them to scrub over his face. “I’d have been fine if you’d never done anything. If I’d figured it out eventually, it would have been something that I thought about in passing and ignored. But you didn’t let me. You got in my face and
made me see you
, damn it! What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”
“This?” Oak croaked. “Can we just be clear on what you mean? I don’t want to assume anything here.”
“This!” he shouted gesturing between them, then lower at their cocks. “This!”
“Oh, that. I have a few ideas,” Oak returned, the beginnings of a smile playing about his lips.
“
Jesus
, that’s not what I mean.”
“Really? I dunno because you were pointing at my dick, man. I’m pretty good about figuring out what to do with my junk.” An edge of something harsh flashed behind Oak’s humor.
“You’re getting defensive again,” Wyatt noted.
“And why the hell not, boss?” He flung his arms wide and stood away from the wall. “Do you like what you see? It’s yours, you know. I wouldn’t fight you even if I knew it meant nothing to you. Do you know why?”
Wyatt shook his head.
“Because even a one night stand is more than I’d ever hoped for when it came to getting horizontal with you. Because even if you go about business tomorrow like I’m John’s kid, I’ll remember every second of what you’d feel like in me. Because there aren’t enough years left on this planet to keep me from thinking of exactly how you taste, Captain. That’s why.”
“Don’t call me that. Not now.”
“Captain?” When Wyatt nodded, Oak continued. “Fine, Peterman. Or am I allowed to call you Wyatt.”
Wyatt’s cock uncomfortably pressed his fly at the sound of his name on Oak’s lips. “Wyatt’s fine.”
“Awesome.” Oak continued in strutting form. “Then forgive me for my insubordination, but when it comes to explaining how wrong we are together,” he broke off, positioning his hands on either side of his open fly, like a lewd bracket. “Why don’t you just suck my cock, instead, huh? How does that sound.”
“Pretty damn fine,” Wyatt decided.
He crossed the short width of hallway, shoved Oak to the wall again and dropped to his knees.
Holy fuck! Wyatt was going to do it? Stunned, Oak could barely make sense of the kneeling man in front of him. What had been issued as an insult had turned into a bizarre fantasy.
Wyatt took hold of Oak’s waistband and looked up at him. Wyatt’s clear blue eyes regarded him unwaveringly. Oak sank his fingers into the man’s thick brown hair afraid a word would either stop him or start him toward the intended goal.
His cock wanted this, but should he? “What about Owen?”
“I explained about Owen.”
“Not exactly.”
“I thought you wanted this,” Wyatt said, his voice roughened with the same desire Oak saw in his steady gaze.
“I want a lot of things. You on your knees is a highlight.”
Wyatt smiled, an almost shy, playful grin tinged with heat. The broad shouldered man at his knees had been anything but timid the entire time Oak had known him. This intimate twist gave a flip to his belly.
Wyatt yanked Oak’s pants down. “I’m going to hell for this,” he murmured. He lowered his gaze to Oak’s swollen shaft. “I’m gonna enjoy the trip.”
He placed a kiss on the moist tip. Oak cracked his head on the wall. He pushed his hips forward, wanting to watch every minute of the captain’s mouth on his dick. Wyatt seemed to know it too, because he took his goddamn time rubbing those lips back and forth on the mushroom head.
Oak’s ass clenched. His groin had tight flutters warming the secret parts of his pelvis all the way to his spine. Wyatt’s tongue flicked out over the top, tasting the drop of moisture he found there and humming approval.
Oak thought he might explode. The culmination of years of crushing, lusting after this man who’d been out of his reach and way too sexy for his own good, had ended with the object on his knees tasting him like a dessert plate. The whimper was surely a manifestation of that and not his desperation to get fucked in the ass by the same guy.
By the time Wyatt’s mouth wrapped around the top, and his eyes lifted to Oak’s, he thought his legs would give. One of Wyatt’s huge hands flattened on his belly and slid higher, matching the slow progression of his mouth down the length of Oak’s shaft. He pulled off just as slowly.
“So pretty,” Wyatt murmured, his lips dancing along the side of the needy rod as he spoke.
“Wyatt, you’re killing me.”
“You want this as much as I do. Might as well take you to hell with me.”
Oak fisted his hair, trying to tug the other man back into place. Wyatt chuckled, but took the urged suggestion.
“I’ll suck you,” he promised. “Later I’ll take my time exploring every inch of your tight body. Understood?”
Oak nodded in jerky movements then butted his tip to Wyatt’s smiling lips.
Wyatt opened and threw delicacy to the wind as he took him in one quick swallow. Oak shuddered on a bone-deep groan. Wyatt’s lips rubbed up and down his dick, cheeks hollowing on each withdrawal. Oak sank into the sensations, the sight of the man he wanted more than anything going down on him, the friction, the heat—his head swam with it.
Wyatt slipped the side of his hand lower, coasting over the hidden entrance several times before pushing a finger in. They both groaned at the same time. He plucked the tight ring of muscles as he increased the rhythm on Oak’s cock.
Oak didn’t resist the urge to thrust, though he held himself back from the fucking he really wanted to give. Wyatt didn’t seem to mind. He swallowed deep and held. With his other hand he pulled Oak tight to his face while he constricted his throat.
Dear God, Oak
would
explode. Any pretense of consideration flew the coop. He grabbed the man’s head in both hands and slammed his hips in, rocking hard as he fucked Wyatt’s face with every pent up fantasy he’d had.
Wyatt took it. His eyes watered, yet he stayed in place, adding a second finger and popping the anal ring. Suddenly he pressed in three fingers and hooked them rapidly over Oak’s prostate.
Cum erupted from him. Stinging in its speed, pleasure emptied his balls into Wyatt’s throat. He pulled out enough to let him breath before rocking out the final squirts along his tongue.

Wyatt got to his feet. This was a bad idea, he knew it, but he no longer cared. Not now, maybe not later. He’d deal with it then, if his conscience got the better of him. He took the wrappered square out of his pocket, smiling that Oak had provided him with the item they’d need moments later.

He undid his pants and pushed them just below his balls. He didn’t have time to undress. He needed to be inside Oak. Now.
Fumbling with the condom, he managed to get it rolled over his length before he hooked one of Oak’s legs and lifted it. Wyatt spat into his hand several times to wet the condom. In a matter of seconds he was blissfully balls deep. Oak grunted, offering no other complaint.
The glove-like heat of his partner’s son pulsed around his dick. This was wrong, so wrong. He’d never felt anything more perfect. He kissed Oak, taking precious time to feel his mouth. No longer in a rush to prove how much Oak got to him, he settled in to a slow rhythm and soft, layered kisses.
Oak got under his shirt, touching him everywhere, wrapping around him and holding him close. Lips, tongue, shuddering breath wove together in a spell.
“I shouldn’t be fucking you,” he murmured between kisses.
“Yeah, you should.”
“Your dad would kill me.”
“Don’t ask his permission,” Oak countered.
Wyatt gave a breathy chuckle. Every slow slide enveloped his cock, teased him closer. He wanted this to go slowly, didn’t want it to be over too soon even though it meant denying himself a badly needed finish.
“I’ve loved you too long to let what they want worry me,” Oak whispered. Wyatt stilled. “Loved?”
Realization widened the other man’s eyes as a flush tinged his cheeks. “Don’t stop. Please,” he rasped.
Loved? Did he want that, Wyatt asked himself. Was that wise? He started up again, giving an additional lift to hit Oak’s sweet spot on each thrust.
“Don’t think about it,” Oak told him.
“Too late.”
Oak took his face in his hands. “Look at me. Feel me. Think about
that
.”
He did, staring deep into those rich, earthy wells filled with emotion and heat. For him. Knowing he created that kind of longing in his lover, made Wyatt’s chest feel swollen with a different kind of pleasure. He wasn’t stupid. He recognized that it meant something. He just wasn’t prepared to examine it with his cock buried in another man’s ass.
Yet he was unable to close his eyes away from it. So his gaze held. Then it cherished every line and passion-softened curve. Then he kissed those planes and valleys, the eyes that spoke nuances that words didn’t have and the lips that parted on a sound of pleasure. His chest stayed full and his cock needed more than the slow pace he’d established.
Wyatt pressed another soft kiss to Oak’s lips, and hooked his other leg, pressing the man’s back to the wall for support. The new position opened Oak’s hole to him without obstruction. Wyatt took him then, pounding his ass unapologetically.
Oak’s brows drew together in the middle. His hardening cock lolled against his belly.
“Jack yourself,” Wyatt insisted.
Oak rubbed firmly over his own cock, cupped his balls. Wyatt watched him get harder, hard enough for Oak to wrap his fist around himself and tug.
“Open your mouth,” Wyatt commanded.
He did as he was asked. Wyatt licked the inside of his upper lips, looked into the moist well, felt Oak’s fist occasionally bump his belly while he pumped himself, and Wyatt grunted as the first swell of orgasm raced up his cock. Cum immediately followed, letting loose the coil of lust that had been building in his balls until wave after wave hit him in sharp, shooting spurts.
After a minute he let Oak stand. The man’s cock flopped drunkenly, half filled, half flaccid. Wyatt cupped a hand over it. “We’ll take care of that.”
“You aren’t leaving now?” Oak asked cautiously.
“I wasn’t planning to. Unless you want me to leave.”
“No. I want you to stay.”
Wyatt slipped his arms around Oak and took his time kissing those beautiful lips.
It was Oak who pulled back first. “I’m not complaining, but I need to know if this is a one-off for you.”
“I thought it didn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t.”
Wyatt tilted his head as he scanned his face. He’d been a cop too long to not be able to read expressions and know Oak was hiding something. “It matters to you,” he countered gently.
Oak’s smile was bright and false. “Only because I want to know what I’m getting into.”
“Don’t hide from me. Don’t ever hide from me. You’ve never doubted you could trust me before. Did sex change that?”
“No.”
“This was more than sex,” Wyatt deduced.
“I can separate the two like any guy who needs to get laid,” he quipped.
“Maybe, but you didn’t, did you?”
“You aren’t supposed to be thinking about it.” Oak moved away toward the stairs after picking up his discarded gun. “I’m going to put this away.” He glanced back at Wyatt. “Whether or not you come upstairs is up to you. I won’t judge your decision either way. I promised one night would be enough. I won’t go back on my word.”
“Your word was given before either of us had a chance to figure this out,” Wyatt said.
“It doesn’t change anything.”
“Yes, it does. You’ve made it clear that you have feelings for me. Before, you were offering—however unwisely—a fuck. Maybe a crush-fuck, but a fuck. But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?” Wyatt asked.
Oak leaned against the wall of the stair well. “There’s more,” he admitted roughly.
Peterman took a step toward him. “And that
more
comes with a responsibility I don’t want.”
Oak’s eyes looked troubled, loaded with questions fighting to be asked that couldn’t find voice.
Peterman tried to explain. “A fuck is a fuck. Fucking a man who wants more, and knowing he wants more, leads him to believe there’s a chance when I’m not sure there is.”
Oak nodded. Bitterness twisted his lips tightening his next words. “Ah, I see. You don’t want me the way I want to be with you, and you’re afraid you’ll break my heart. Which is hilarious, really, because you had to know how I felt before I caught you making out with Owen tonight. You had to know when I risked everything to touch you that night in your apartment. And you sure as fuck had to know it when you went down on me just minutes ago.”
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Then why did you, Captain? Was that a pity suck? Is a blowjob less committal than putting your cock in my ass and riding me all night long? Let’s hear it, boss, because I really wanna know. I mean, how is fucking me in my hallway less important to a lovesick whiner than really working it out of your system between the sheets?”
Oak turned and climbed the stairs out of sight. Wyatt ran a hand through his hair. Following Oak after that exit, meant more than just an all-nighter. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. It came with complications like how they handled themselves at the office. The way the precinct reacted to their relationship could be a career-ender, especially since he’d just been promoted to Captain. It wouldn’t be easy for Oak either. He’d be in the trenches with the guys, hearing the gay jokes first hand and either defending it or suffering because of it.
Wyatt went to the bathroom off the hall to clean up. When he was finished, his feet carried him to the bottom step.
A hetero relationship in their position would be hard enough, but a gay one? Geez, the banter alone would get tedious. If the public got wind of it, and they would, it added yet another dimension of scrutiny. That was a media blitz waiting to happen.
Then there was John and Sheila and how they might react to their son sleeping with Wyatt every night. If the relationship didn’t pan-out, tension could hurt the entire family and permanently strike him as a friend. And if it did work? Who was to say that John and Sheila would be comfortable with the arrangement?
They knew he was gay. They knew Oak was gay. Separately, they seemed able to handle it. Those two truths together may be more than they were prepared for.
Yet a relationship with Oak—the words alone quickened his pulse and spurred him with excitement. Could it be possible? Was it worth all the risk?
Oak was a grown man now and he could make his own decisions. Still, Wyatt felt he needed to give him the opportunity to really think it through. Wyatt also owed it to himself to consider every angle carefully.
He passed another long glance toward the stairwell, then at the sliding doors to the deck. Not sure if he was making the right decision, Wyatt turned off the downstairs lights and went to the glass doors.