Authors: Sam B. Morgan
With a moan, Brody pressed back and pushed Zack to the side and off of him.
Zack couldn’t even protest. He just rolled over, closed his eyes, and tried to catch his breath. “
Wow
.”
“Yeah,” Brody agreed.
What else could they say? Zack had certainly had some amazingly athletic sex in his life, but nothing had left him as blissful and worn as this.
Zack felt the bed move and the heat of Brody’s body. He opened his eyes to find Brody looking down at him. Flushed, face and lips red, breathing heavy. And smiling.
If the sex didn’t kill him, Brody’s smile—
Brody kissed him. Cupped the side of his face, leaned down, and kissed him. That deep, soul-destroying kind of kiss that was gentle and caring and dirty as hell. Tongues sliding in to taste, lips pulling, sucking. His hands were soft, fingers moving to brush through Zack’s hair. It felt exactly as Zack bet it was meant to. It told him all he needed to know and what he knew it’d take forever to actually say.
Brody was gone on him too. He’d fallen just as hard.
Chapter Fifteen
The bed moved beneath Brody, dipping with the weight of something heavy. Something heavy…and moose-like.
He grinned into the pillow at the thought and turned his head. The morning sunlight was bright and unforgiving as it poured into Zack’s room. But somehow Zack still managed to look like the cover of a men’s fitness magazine, perfect smile and all.
“Morning, sunshine. Coffee?” Zack grinned, one knee on the bed, holding two of the biggest coffee mugs known to man, both emblazoned with armadillos in cowboy outfits.
Brody pushed up to one elbow and squinted at the mugs. “You aren’t right in the head…but thanks.”
Zack passed one over and sat next to him. “Don’t give my armadillos the stink eye. I’ll gladly take that mug back if you’re going to insult it.”
“I’d never insult cowboy armadillos,” Brody lied.
“These are the biggest mugs they had at South of the Border.”
He managed to sit up without spilling any of the vital nectar and leaned back against the headboard. “You actually went
into
South of the Border? Why? It’s a tacky-ass tourist trap for Yankees.”
“Because, it’s a tacky-ass tourist trap and it’s awesome. Where else can you find cowboy armadillo coffee mugs along with some sweet flip-flop salt-and-pepper shakers?” Zack grinned even bigger and maneuvered his way up next to Brody. His teeth were bright in his tan face, relaxed joy pouring off him like the sun into his room.
Zack was in a good mood nine times out of ten, but this was a shit-eating-grin-type good mood. He beamed, and the possibility that it was because of Brody was…
He shook it off. There was no fucking way. He’d never made anyone happy, never mind
this
happy. The kind of happiness that made other people jealous and a little bit nauseated.
Zack leaned over, coffee balanced in one hand, and kissed Brody full on the lips with the sweet taste of cinnamon creamer. “To say last night was…wow is an understatement, because I can’t come up with great words until I’ve had another coffee.” He leaned back. “But I know it was new. Y’know…for you, and I’m glad it was… I’m glad I was the one who…was with you when—”
“You love that you were my first. Just spit it out.” Brody sipped his coffee.
Zack smirked. “Okay. I’m glad I was your first and that it was…y’know?”
Brody raised his eyebrows, still sipping.
“Y’know…”
“Awesome?”
Zack sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, it was awesome. For me too. I mean, that’s not the norm.”
Brody didn’t respond right away, his mind thrown back to last night. Awesome didn’t begin to describe it. He’d imagined letting go, letting someone take over, take control, and do that to him,
for
him, for years. But he felt vulnerable even thinking about it, and he wasn’t about to be vulnerable with anyone.
Except Zack.
To finally be with someone, not only someone he cared about, but who so obviously cared about him in return, and for it to surpass “awesome” was what he didn’t expect in his life. He’d spent years accepting that this was something he’d never have. Yet here he was.
Zack shifted on the bed. “I mean, I’m just saying—” A note of anxiety laced through his voice in response to Brody’s silence.
Brody shook his head as he set down his enormous coffee mug. He leaned over and took Zack’s face in both hands, kissing him again so he’d shut the fuck up. He sucked at Zack’s lips, teasing him with flicks of his tongue, until he pulled a groan from Zack.
“It was better than awesome. I know amazing sex when I’ve had it,” Brody said. “Even if I haven’t let myself have any before. And no, I’m not freaked out about finally letting you top me. I’ve thought about it a lot. A hell of a lot since I met you.”
“Oh yeah?” Zack failed at containing his grin.
Brody elbowed Zack’s coffee-free arm. “It was intense, better than I’d imagined…and I fucking loved it—if that wasn’t obvious enough for you last night, I’m telling you now. So don’t worry. I’m as sold on you as you are on me.”
Zack blinked at him, brown eyes so big and dark they were like looking out at the sea at night.
“Relax and drink your coffee, okay?”
“Okay.”
“There is one problem,” Brody said before sitting back and taking a long sip of his coffee. It was an asshole thing to do, but Zack wasn’t the only one who could be an awful tease.
“What?” Zack shifted to look at him. “What is it?”
“I’m starving. I want some pizza from that Woodchuck’s place again. And you’re buying.”
They spent the rest of the morning doing a whole lot of nothing and eventually wandered down Center Street in Folly Beach to the hole-in-the-wall surfer bar and pizza shop.
“Best pizzas ever. I told you,” Zack announced.
He wasn’t lying either. They ordered two large supremes, one for each of them, and waddled home with only four leftover slices.
“Just go on without me.” Zack stopped halfway back to his house and leaned against a palmetto tree, holding his nonexistent belly. “I…I’m too full. I…” He staggered. “I can’t go on. Save yourself.”
Brody laughed, remembering the last time Zack made the same joke. They’d known each other over two months now. In a way, they’d been together for over two months. Two months. The realization was startling, but in a good way.
“No!” Brody said, playing along this time. “I won’t leave you here. Mainly because you’re the one carrying the leftover pizza, and I may want some later.” He grabbed Zack’s free arm and threw it across his shoulder.
“All for one and one trying to rob the last of my pizza,” Zack proclaimed with a fist in the air.
Brody laughed, not thinking about who might see them acting like fools. “Don’t make me laugh.” He groaned. “I’m too full to laugh.”
“You and me both,” Zack agreed. “Carry me.” He tried flinging a moose-long leg up into Brody’s arm.
“Hell no.” Brody swatted his leg away. “I’ll go get your wheelbarrow and haul you back before I carry your big ass.”
“Ha! Like you could haul me anywhere.”
Brody straightened, shaking off Zack’s arm. “Is that a challenge?”
“Oh.” Zack nodded with the adamancy of a district court judge. “Oh that’s a challenge.”
“Fine. Stay right there.” He started walking away but thought better about it. He spun around, grabbed the pizza box, and then headed toward Zack’s.
“Hey!” Zack called after him but didn’t move from his spot on the side of the road. “Pizza thief! Someone stop him! I’m calling the cops! Oh, wait.”
Brody laughed or grinned the three blocks back to Zack’s. Even after devouring the majority of an enormous pizza, he felt…light. The heaviness of the job, his case, having to max his upcoming PT test, it was all momentarily lifted. Paused. Compartmentalized. He was having fun.
Fun.
What the fuck?
He found the wheelbarrow in the lean-to shed next to the sailboat, and Zack started cackling as soon as he rolled up.
“Holy shit!” Zack laughed. “You win. I never imagined it possible, but you have beaten me at shenanigans. Oh,
and
it’s like makeshift PT. We are brilliant. Best day ever.” He eased back in the wheelbarrow, long legs hanging over the sides, fingers locked behind his head as Brody laid the pizza box on his lap. “Let’s go home, but if you try to dump me out on the side of the road, then it’s forty pushups for you.” He nodded forward, and Brody began pushing him, knowing he wore the same stupid grin as Zack.
Chapter Sixteen
When Brody finished his two-mile qualifying run, he knew. He’d killed it. Kicked that PT exam’s ass.
He walked it out, his body on fire and alive with the effort of the competency testing. His marksmanship the day before had been better than when he was in the damn academy. Clocked a level twelve on the beep test, flying beyond the pass level of ten with a mental
Fuck yeah!
He’d be back on Homicide and finishing the case before week’s end. Zack was a man of his word. He’d not only gotten Brody up to code, he’d helped him kick its ass. But then, Zack being a man of his word had never been in question.
The last night spent with him had been… Brody cleared his throat. Even the memories made him both hotter than the two-mile run and warmer than the summer breeze. Their day together after had been relaxed. Natural. Happy.
Zack was constant in his personality, his promises, and his desires. The man was a giant spaz with a few anxiety issues, but he knew who he was and what he wanted. He’d made it clear he wanted Brody.
Why? Brody hadn’t a fucking clue. Zack deserved better. A hell of a lot better than what he could ever offer.
“Damn, Brody!” The tester approached him as he came back around the track and handed him water. “Nice time. You doing growth hormone or some shit? Aren’t you knocking on forty or something? What’s the secret?”
“I’m thirty-three, asshole. You know that. We graduated academy together.”
The guy laughed and smacked him on the back. “For real, nice going. It’ll be good to have you back on the job soon.”
Those were the words ringing through his head when he met with his captain the next day. Back on the job. Soon. So fucking soon.
It wouldn’t be soon enough.
He and Lamont had a job to do, and with what they’d discussed about the Strangler, he knew if he could get both their eyes on this latest case, they’d close it. His gut was never wrong, and there was something they were missing. They’d find it, he had no doubt. They’d find it and nail the sonuvabitch terrorizing their city.
“Brody.” Captain Hill grabbed his hand in a firm shake. “It’s damn good to know you’re going to be off desk duty and back out there.”
“It’s damn good to be going back.” Brody sat as his captain circled the desk, taking his seat.
“I’m sure you can guess I’ve kept in touch with Lamont, Officer Davis, and I feel confident we can hit our caseload like we never missed a day.”
Hill’s eyebrows pinched as he scooted forward and grabbed the manila file on his desk. “I’m sure you could.” He chuckled, and it was forced, false noise.
The sound of it turned Brody’s stomach.
“But if you’ve been in touch with Lamont, you know he’s partners with Griggs now.” Hill centered the file on his desk pad and tapped a pen against it. “They’re doing a good job and finally have some viable leads with the Strangler. I’m putting you in Robbery. Captain O’Connor will be your new CO. They need someone like you to—”
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Brody interrupted his captain as the floor seemed to tilt beneath him.
“Excuse me?”
Brody gave him the same false laugh in return. “Very funny, now be serious. Me on Robbery and Lamont with Griggs is the worst fucking idea ever, so I know you’ve got to be kidding.”
Hill shook his head, lowering his gaze to the file. “I wish I was kidding. But you didn’t hear that from me. You’re on Robbery, Brody. Griggs stays.”
“You can’t look me in the eye and say it, because you know it’s bullshit.”
“It is what it is.” He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Brody. “Accept it. I’ve had to.”
“I get it.” Realization dawned. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Griggs being the chief’s favorite nephew-in-law or whatever, now would it? He’s connected, so I get screwed?”
Hill shrugged.
“Son of a bitch.” He chewed on the words. He could argue until he lost his voice; it wouldn’t make any difference. “At least keep me on Homicide, Captain. Eventually Griggs is going to screw up bad enough to get tossed to the side. Come on.”
“I wish I could. I’ve got no slots. Budget is tapped out on staff as it is. I’m stuck.”
“You’re stuck?”
“You think I want to lose you to Robbery?
Robbery?
Hell no! But I’m friends with O’Connor, and I know when something opens up here, he’ll make it a simple transfer for me to get you back.”
“This is bureaucratic bullshit, and you know it.”
“Your career at the department won’t suffer. You’ll be back in Homicide as soon as—”
“Screw my career. What about my case? That’s my case, and you think Griggs is going to solve it? Another girl will die.”
“Hey!” Hill slapped his hand against the file. “I won’t let that happen. I’m doing all I can about your position too, so don’t chew my ass for trying to help. I could just say fuck you and off you go.”
Brody chewed on the inside of his lip. He knew that was true, but it did nothing to ease the sucker punch of being officially tossed off his case.
“I knew it,” he said, his voice heating up. “I knew this shit was going to happen. And you know Griggs will never solve this case. That’s what this is all about, some glory whore who wants his name in the paper for collaring the decade’s bad guy, and he’s going to fuck it up. You and I both know it.”
Captain Hill sat expressionless.
“More deaths because he’s a well-connected, entitled tool bag who can’t do the job, and I happened to trick up my knee.”
Still not even a blink of a reaction. Hill just slid the file across the desk toward him. “Your new assignment. You start tomorrow. I’ll bring you back on as soon as I can.”
Brody stared at the manila cover but only saw the last victim’s face. Her photo from the track-and-field sports club. So much promise. So much life. He was tired of seeing their faces.