Naked Dragon (8 page)

Loving the sensation of fucking this man, Dave savored every minute of it, hoping it would never be the last. Leaning over his back, tasting the saltiness of his sweat, Dave gave his hips one good final thrust and came, shivering with the climax. As he pulled out he caught his breath and recuperated.

Robbie lay back, his smile wide as he asked, "My turn?"

Taking the condom off and tossing it on the carpet, Dave smiled shyly. "Go for it."

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Naked Dragon

by G.A. Hauser

He lay face down on the bed and waited, hearing Robbie opening a condom wrapper. Tilting back, Dave watched Robbie preparing them both with some lubrication, then Robbie held Dave's hips and urged him to kneel. Dave immediately got into position for him.

"You tell me if I'm going too fast or too hard, babe."

"Yeah, all right." Dave wondered how it would feel. When Robbie penetrated him slowly, Dave was amazed at the wash of chills and pleasure that came over him. His cock grew hard again immediately but he wanted this one to be just for Robbie.

"You all right?" Robbie asked, stopping his hips from moving.

"Yes. I'm fine. Really."

"Okay. Just let me know—"

"Robbie, don't worry." Dave made himself more comfortable on the pillows as Robbie increased his speed and depth slowly. It was the closest thing he could do to express his feelings for this man, giving him his body, allowing him to dominate him. It was glorious, earth shattering, and sublime.

Better than he could have hoped for. Closing his eyes and loving every minute of it, Dave listened for Robbie's gasp of pleasure and felt his skin prickle with goose bumps when he came. After Robbie pulled out and disposed of the rubber they cuddled in bed warmly.

Sated beyond expectations, Dave felt strong arms wrap around him from behind and the mingling of their sweat. The urge to tell him he loved him gripped him suddenly and passed just as quickly.

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"Time to get up, hot stuff," Robbie whispered.

"Coffee..." he replied as if in desperation.

"Coffee ... of course. We are in Seattle after all," Robbie laughed, then stood up off the bed.

Once the brew was dripping, Robbie headed to the bathroom to shower. In only his briefs Dave waited for the pot to fill, then found a mug and poured a cup for himself. As he sipped the black coffee, he ran through his plan for the day in his mind. Work out at the gym, food shop, clean the condo, and do laundry. A thrill a moment. Checking the time on his watch, he finished the coffee and set the mug down, then wandered to the bathroom for his own chance at washing up. He knocked lightly, then pushed the door back.

Robbie was rubbing a towel over his hair and face as he stepped out of the shower stall. When they met gazes Robbie smiled and whispered, "You're insatiable."

"I can't help it. You turn me on."

Looking at his own watch quickly, Robbie said, "Sorry, I've got to get ready. You know I'd love nothing better than to paw at you in bed all day."

"I know. Let me rinse quickly." He gestured to the shower.

Robbie moved out of his way, then bushed his teeth at the sink.

* * * *

Dressed in his jeans and t-shirt, Dave watched as his lover knotted his necktie in a mirror in the bedroom. Just the sight of him in that suit sent his mouth watering. Robbie's jacket was drawn back, and his gun was clipped into his shoulder 73

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holster. He did a quick check of his FBI credentials and stuffed them into his inside jacket pocket.

"Right." Robbie turned around and sighed. "The other agents are down the hall. We usually gather in the corridor before going out to the parking garage."

"Oh? You mean that short nasally guy is here too?"

Robbie burst out laughing. "Our Agent Skinner. Yes, he's here too, as well as Agent Green."

"I suppose we better be careful then, you know. We don't need them seeing us together." Dave took his gun pack from the table and strapped it around his waist.

"I don't think it would affect me as badly as it would you, but, it wouldn't hurt to be discreet."

"So ... uh ... will I see you again?" Dave moved closer to him, catching a whiff of his cologne.

"Come by tonight." Robbie wrapped around him.

"Okay. You want to ring me to let me know if you'll be here at nine or so?"

"I expect we'll just have a repeat of the last few days. He tends to kill in the early evening and makes sure we find out that day. He's got a pattern to keep up, after all." Robbie rolled his eyes wearily.

"How does he let someone know without being caught?"

"Blood. He uses the blood to get attention. You've seen that single drop of blood on the doors. Never mind. I don't have the time now to get into it. Ask me again after work."

Robbie kissed him quickly and then found his keys.

Frowning, wishing in some strange way that he was on shift and could see this man at work again, Dave had to be 74

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content with the knowledge that he would have him in his arms all night. That was some consolation. When he opened the door to the hallway, Dave heard men's voices. Looking up he found Agent Green and Agent Skinner chatting in front of the next unit down the hall.

"Shit," Dave moaned.

"Just go." Robbie nudged him in the opposite direction, towards the elevators.

"What about the gate?"

"It's automatic when you leave."

"See ya," Dave whispered, then moved quickly to the staircase, bypassing the elevators.

* * * *

Robbie waited a moment, then stared at the two men who were locking up their unit and chatting non-stop about the case. Straightening his jacket and tie, he ran his hand back through his hair and wondered if these two very astute men had taken notice of his lover's hasty departure.

"...the same case in 1990, you remember? Young boys..."

Agent Skinner stopped and greeted Robbie. "Morning, Taylor."

"Morning, Frank, John..."

"We've got some DNA results from the first murder. No match found, but it wasn't the victim's." Agent Green buttoned his suit jacket as they walked to the elevators.

Robbie nodded, then replied, "I doubt it'll be of any help.

These old run-down tenement houses are loaded with DNA 75

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from every occupant that lived in them. You think they steam them clean in between?" He laughed sarcastically.

"Yeah, that was my thought." Agent Skinner held the elevator door open for the other two, then stepped in and pushed the button for the garage level. "This fucker's really getting on my nerves. I hate when they play with us and they keep winning."

The doors opened to the shadowy parking level. As their leather soles echoed on the cement flooring, Robbie said,

"He's not winning. What he's doing is killing him as well. He hates himself for it even though he feels the compulsion to keep doing it."

Agent Green used the remote control to open the car doors and disarm the alarm as he said, "You sound as if you sympathize with this guy."

Climbing into the back seat, Robbie fastened the seatbelt, then relaxed his legs into a wide straddle. "No. Not sympathizing. Just trying to get into his head."

Twisting around to give him his annoyed expression, Agent Skinner said, "The least you could do is come up with something to help us. All your speculation hasn't gotten us anywhere. I don't know why they sent you on this case. Who needs a fricken psychic? What we need is a break."

Pausing until Agent Skinner sat facing forward again as Agent Green maneuvered the car out of the tight parking space and up to the electric gates, Robbie asked, "The wife cheating on you again, Frank?"

Agent Skinner spun around to glare at him, but didn't deny it.

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Robbie chuckled to himself and rested his head back on the seat as they logged into service and headed for the International District.

* * * *

Seated on a work-out bench in the west precinct gym, Dave recuperated as he did some quick repetitions to warm up before he moved onto the heavier weights. The music was blaring heavy metal and two other cops were grunting and sweating as they pumped iron. Even with the fans moving the muggy air around, the room was hot and had the distinct odor of male sweat. Once he had warmed up, he loaded up the bar and stared at it for a moment, trying to prepare himself for the effort it would take to lift it off his chest.

A poster on the wall warned the officers
The more you
sweat in here, the less you bleed out there
. It was enough to keep him strong and fit. In the three years he'd been on the street, he'd never gotten into a fight. He'd helped out other cops control unruly suspects, but no one had challenged him directly. But he wasn't cocky enough to believe that day would never come. Maybe he was lucky. Or maybe he gave off an air of power. He was big. He knew it. A glance in the mirror and he found his six foot two inch height and his two hundred and forty pound frame. Solid muscle.

Ready for the workout, he lay back, made a good hand hold on the bar with his leather fingerless gloves, and arched his back. Up went the bar with a blast of his lungs, pumped, one, two, three, four, five ... to ten, then he set the bar back and shook out his arms from the stinging pain.

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He sat up, loaded two more ten pound plates on the bar, then relaxed until he felt ready for the next set.

"Harris," one of the other officers shouted to him over Black Sabbath's
Iron Man
, "If you need a spot, just ask."

Meeting the man's eyes, Dave nodded, wondering how he knew his name, because he didn't know this cop's name. His face yes, his name, no. "Thanks. I'm not going too heavy.

Just some reps, but thanks." He rubbed his hands together, lay back and did eight more. After he set the bar down, he didn't sit up right away. A flash of Robbie's body completely naked raced through his brain as if someone had turned on a movie screen for a moment.

He checked his watch. It was too early for him to be on another murder scene. Mr. Dragon-maniac seemed to enjoy the late afternoon. Maybe it was intentional to ruin one's appetite for dinner. He wondered which lucky relief officer would get that nasty job tonight and tomorrow. He hoped they had a strong stomach. It was one thing to hear the descriptions, and another thing altogether to witness them and have those horrid images burned on your brain.

Sitting up, feeling tired already even though he still had several other exercises to complete before he finished, he shook out his arms again, stood, placed two more ten pound plates on the bar, then stretched his arms over his head to loosen them.

"You're the cop that keeps getting dispatched to those murders, aren't you?"

Cringing slightly, Dave didn't know if that was a reputation to be proud of. "Doesn't take long for word to get around."

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"Everyone's been checking it out as soon as the dispatcher calls the supervisor to a scene and won't say what it is over the air. And when you look it up the call always reads

'suspicious circumstances', and it's in the ID. Your name is always there with the sarge."

"It's my district." Dave sat back down on the bench, indicating he was going to do his reps and not interested in talking about the case with anyone.

The second cop in the room stopped working out and casually made his way closer to listen in case any juicy details were going to be revealed. When he was within range in the blaring noise he shouted, "I heard the FBI was involved.

Why? Do you know?"

"It's interstate," Dave said, "There were other killings similar to this in Oregon."

The two cops exchanged puzzled looks. "I didn't hear shit about it."

"Me neither," the first one said.

"You think they'll get this guy?"

"I hope so," Dave replied, then gripped the bar and secured his grasp. As the other two watched, he pumped five times with the loaded bar, then set it down and sat up pulling off all the weights and putting them back on the racks.

As the CD ended and the room became strangely silent, the first cop whispered, "I hear they were pretty gruesome.

That they were messed up pretty bad."

"They were." Dave knew if he kept working out, they would keep talking about it. Hating to leave the gym before he had completed his routine, he imagined telling them he 79

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didn't want to discuss it and then being subjected to the negative reaction it would bring out. Cops were nosy. They needed to know.

Avoiding that kind of bad reputation and the rumor mill that inevitably went with it, he found his towel on a hook and then headed to the door. "I've got to go. See ya."

"See ya," they echoed, staring at him as if he were a conspirator in the crimes.

Grumbling under his breath in annoyance since he had a vision of a blissful hour of pumping weights and trying to get the terrible crime scenes out of his mind, he walked to the locker room and imagined punching a wall. He yanked off his gloves, splashed his face in the sink and wiped himself dry with the towel, then left trying to avoid other cops and their questions as he did.

* * * *

They were monitoring the east precinct's radio frequency.

Robbie stared out of the black sedan's window at every face.

Would he know the murderer if he spotted him? Or what about his next victim? He only wished he was that clairvoyant. He didn't profess to be a magician.

"Stop the car," he shouted, sitting up.

Agent Green pulled over quickly and both he and Skinner leaned over the back seat in anticipation.

Robbie jumped out of the car and ran across the four lane street of South Main.

When he vanished into an alley between buildings the other two quickly followed. Robbie could see them struggling 80