weird then you are not doing it right. But no, seriously. Everyone
knows that Detective Roberts hates people like me. I hardly
think encouraging him to jump into bed with us was going to be
a good idea, even if Zander or I fancied the man that way. Which
we don’t.” Terry added for emphasis.
“So what you’re saying, then, if I’ve heard your story right,”
Melissa said, throwing Croydon a dark look, “is that Detective
Roberts came to your house…”
“Well, it’s Zander’s house, but I live there with him, yes.”
“Came to Detective Samuels’ house, broke in…”
“No he had a key. Zander had given him a key years ago as a
security thing,” Terry supplied helpfully.
“Saw you two in bed together.” Melissa stopped as if expecting
Terry to interrupt again, but Terry just nodded. She had got that
part right.
“Got angry, yelled abusive words at you and Detective Samuels,
pulled out his gun at one point because he was so angry at the
thought of his friend sleeping with you, and then what? Left?”
“Pretty much,” Terry said. “He told Zander that he couldn’t stand
to look at the man anymore because my boyfriend was sleeping
with me, and that he was going to put in for a transfer.”
“Detective Roberts has been on the force for ten years. He’s a
decorated officer and has a clean record. I don’t think a man like
that would pull a gun on anyone, just because he was angry.”
Shit Croydon was like a dog with a bone, and he was clearly not
on Zander’s side. Or Terry’s for that matter. Terry thought
quickly.
“I take it you don’t have a lot experience with hate, Sargent,” he
said, picking his way slowly. “Personally, I don’t have a hateful
bone in my body. But I’ve been on the other end of it more times
than I can count. Hate is what causes grown men to pick on
someone so much smaller, just because they act and dress
differently. I’ve had knives pulled on me and Detective Roberts’
gun is not the first one I’ve seen waved in front of me in a
threatening manner.”
“Texas has a hard line on gay rights, but they are my rights,
upheld by Federal law,” Terry continued. “Zander and I might
have problems finding someone to marry us here, but we can
always go somewhere else, and our marriage will be legal under
the law of the land. Detective Roberts has a right to own a gun,
not only because of the work he does, but also because Texans
like their guns. I accept that. But I’m not doing anything illegal
and neither is my boyfriend. Unfortunately, like everything else
that is bigger in Texas, so is the hate some people feel about
what we do in the privacy of our bedroom.”
Melissa smiled, and gave him a nod, but Croydon still wasn’t
convinced. He shuffled some papers on the desk in front of him
and then said, “It says here that Detectives Roberts and Samuels
often used to double date, with women. Could that explain the
shock Roberts might have felt at seeing you in Samuels’ bed?”
“Zander’s also been going out of town and getting his jollies with
other men for years, Sargent. Detective Roberts didn’t know
about that, although he does now.” Terry wasn’t going to let the
thought about the men or women that Zander had been with in
the past upset him, although Croydon had clearly brought it up
to rattle him. Sneaky shit.
“But seeing you two being intimate in bed together would have
to have been a shock.” Damn that Croydon and how dare he use
the term intimate like it was a dirty word.
“I’m sure I would get a shock if I came into your bedroom,
Sargent,” Terry said reminding himself not to show any anger.
“If you go into anyone’s private space, without invitation I might
add, then you can expect to be slightly surprised at least. As far
as I’m concerned Detective Roberts clearly overstepped the
friendship boundaries he had with Zander, and got an eyeful. His
fault. He should have waited for Zander in the living room like
any other visitor would do.”
“But if Roberts saw you two, engaged in…sex play, then that
would have justified his anger, don’t you think?”
“Detective Roberts has been a homophobe for years, as I am
sure your records show,” Terry said clearly. “He didn’t get a flash
of prick. Zander was wearing his pants and he’d covered me with
a blanket. We were not touching, kissing, screwing or anything
else your mind can come up with. We were in bed together.
Roberts woke us up when he came into the house. End of story.”
“I still don’t understand why Detective Roberts got the idea he
was being propositioned. Sexual harassment is a serious
complaint.” Croydon was being a bulldog, but Terry had to admit
the man had a point. Zander put it down to Sully wanting to ruin
his career – a career he had built with his friend.
“For the same reason he thought it was okay to draw a gun on
an unarmed man, and be rude and verbally abusive in Zander’s
home. The sight of me and Zander together upset him, maybe
it was a trigger from some unknown traumatic event or
something. Who knows? But I will state this as clearly as I know
how. Detective Roberts had no right to come into our home, no
right to judge what he assumed by seeing Zander and me in bed
together, and it’s as clear as the nose on my face that Roberts
wanted to sabotage his friend’s career after learning about me,
and is using you two to do it.”
Hmm, Melissa didn’t like that idea, and even Croydon looked a
little uneasy. After shuffling some papers, he was given a few
PR words that included thanking him for his time, and then Terry
was told he could leave.
Stepping out of the office he saw Zander waiting for him, leaning
against the wall, worry etched over his handsome face. Seeing
Terry, Zander peeled himself off the wall, and without even
bothering to see if anyone else was around, he wrapped his body
around Terry’s and hung on tight.
“I’m so proud of you,” he breathed in Terry’s hair.
Chapter Seventeen
Zander needed Terry. Not like in, “oh it would be nice to be with
someone,” but a deep down clawing sexual need that wouldn’t
be assuaged until he was balls deep in Terry’s tight little ass.
There was nothing that could have torn him away from the office
door while Terry was being interviewed and he thanked the Fates
that he’d been able to hear everything his mate had been asked,
and how Terry had responded. The strength Terry had shown,
the control on his anger that Zander had felt through their bond,
was totally belied by Terry’s unassuming looks. His mate couldn’t
have handled the situation any better.
He knew there was nothing he could do about Sully or his
accusations, although they still hurt. Now the case was reduced
to he-said-he-said, Zander hoped it would be resolved quickly.
There was a part
of him that worried that Sully would get into
trouble for pulling the gun, and for insulting a member of the
public, but he really couldn’t be bothered thinking about that
now.
Hurrying Terry through the building, Zander headed for the
parking garage. He wasn’t able to wait until he got them both
home. He was craving Terry’s passion, his lack of inhibitions and
the way he melted and moaned under Zander’s touch. He knew
that Terry had been hurt by Croydon’s fucking comments about
Zander’s past, and Zander needed…he needed to remind himself
and Terry that there would never be anyone else for either one
of them. That he would never want anyone the way he wanted
his mate.
With that thought in mind, Zander was surprised he managed to
get them to his SUV before picking up his mate and plundering
those full lips he was coming to crave with a passion. Terry didn’t
seem surprised, welcoming Zander with an open mouth, a long
moan that Zander eagerly swallowed, his tight body plastered
against Zander’s so that nothing could pass between them.
Zander’s cock had swollen so fast his head spun, and for a long
moment he closed his eyes and lost himself to the sensation of
pleasure.
Not breaking their lip lock, Zander’s fingers found the edges of
Terry’s scarf, and he felt his way to the casual knot, yanking it
off when the knot yielded under his fingers. Stroking his fingers
down Terry’s neck, he was pleased to feel patches of slightly
roughened skin. His mate was still wearing his marks, although
it wasn’t nearly enough to appease his need.
“Zander please.” Terry’s hushed plea was music to Zander’s
ears. Unlocking his vehicle one handed, Zander climbed in, still
holding Terry and fumbling with the switch on the seat so he
could push it back. Terry wasn’t helping with his delicious little
moans and the way his body wiggled all over Zander’s chest as
though the little man was trying to burrow through his clothes.
Zander’s cock was trapped in his pants, fast hitting the point of
pain, and he knew he had to move things along.
“Take your pants off, precious,” he said firmly, drinking in Terry’s
beautifully fine flushed face. Puffy lips were such a good look on
his man, and while he would love nothing more than to see those
same lips stretched wide around his cock, he wanted to be inside
his mate with an intensity that was frightening.
Terry slipped off Zander’s lap, kicking off his shoes and
shimmying off his jeans. Zander was pleased to see that his
mate had foregone underwear for the day. Nothing inflamed him
more than his sweet mate’s collection of sinful undergarments,
but Zander had made a vow when he’d gotten his first peek at
Terry’s bright pink pair, that he would never rip them. He wasn’t
sure he’d be able to stop himself right now though.
Flipping open the button on his suit pants, Zander pulled the zip
harshly, almost catching himself in the process. But the urgency
he felt, that frigging need, it hadn’t lessened any and as Terry
revealed his soft skin and slender behind, it fed Zander’s need.
Impatient he grabbed his mate with one hand, pulling him to
straddle him once more, his other hand holding his aching
erection steady as Terry readied himself and then sunk down on
to him.
“By the Fates, I love that you’re an Omega,” he groaned as his
cock responded to the heat and silky smoothness of Terry’s
insides. Terry just grinned and rolled his hips, his innocent
movements designed to inflame. Not that Zander needed any
encouragement.
“Hold on,” he said roughly and grabbing Terry’s hips, he set a
punishing pace, lifting and dropping Terry in sync with the
upward thrusts of his hips. It was clumsy at best, but then that’s
what sex in a vehicle was – clumsy, messy but so fucking
necessary. At least it was to Zander.
A wildness overtook him, his wolf crowding his senses and
pushing him hard. Uncaring about the bruises he knew his
fingers would leave on Terry’s alabaster skin, Zander pushed and
pushed, his hips driven by a force he couldn’t control. Terry’s
arms were loose around his neck, his head thrown back as he
submitted to the pummeling he was getting. Zander’s wolf eyed
the long arch of his mate’s neck and Zander had to bite, he had
to reestablish his claim on his delicious Omega.
Pulling Terry hard against his chest, Zander felt his teeth
elongate and he ripped the neck of his mate’s Henley seeking his
mating mark. As his balls tightened to the point of no return,
Zander sank his teeth into Terry’s skin and Terry cried out, the
bliss in his voice indescribable. Zander’s orgasm rushed through
his body as Terry’s blood hit his tongue, that tight little ass
clenching around his cock at the same time as Terry’s spunk was
mashed into his shirt. He carefully removed his teeth, lapping at
Terry’s skin to close the wound as the aftershocks flowed
through him.
Terry slumped forward, resting his head on Zander’s chest,
panting hard. Zander’s breathing pattern wasn’t much better.
Strange emotions wafted around his brain. A soothing relaxing
afterglow for sure. Sex with Terry always left that type of feeling.
the emotions were his, or those of his mate, but they felt
wonderful, right, and not for the first time, he wondered if this
was what love felt like. If it was, he liked it.
“I’m so sorry,” Zander said when he his breath had quietened
down enough to speak. “I swear I’ve never acted like a sex-
crazed beast before.”
Terry snorted and then laughed, the happy sound reverberating
off the walls of the SUV, reminding Zander where they were.
Thank God for tinted windows he thought belatedly.
“I think I like your beastly side,” Terry said. “Face it, our working
days are just far too long. Although,” he added, looking at the
ruined neck of his Henley ruefully, “we might need to start
carrying around some changes of clothes.”
Zander had a bag of clothes in the back of his SUV. With the
work he did it was a sensible thing to do. He felt a shaft of pride
at the thought of his mate wearing one of his shirts back to his
studio, and yep, he couldn’t hide the grin.
“I meant clothes that would fit me,” Terry said, matching his
smile. “I’m going to swim in anything of yours.”
“You look good in anything, my mate,” Zander said, pecking
those lips that were still swollen.
“And you have a silver tongue,” Terry said, pulling off the
remains of his top and cleaning himself up before dabbing at the
mess he’d left on Zander’s shirt. Appearing to give up, he flung
his top into the back of the vehicle and snuggled close. Zander
couldn’t believe how perfect Terry felt, how he fit against him so
effortlessly. He
knew that he would do anything to keep this tiny
man safe in his arms, and if it meant quitting his job, leaving the
state, or even leaving the country, then he would be more than
happy to do it. In a short space of time, Terry had become the
sun his world revolved around.
Chapter Eighteen
Terry was in his zone. He had music blaring around his small
studio space, and as he wasn’t expecting any visitors, he was
happily working on his newest creation – a dress for Destiny, a
popular drag queen who worked in a separate club to Morgana,
Davina and Lucy. He’d never worked with the androgynous
looking singer before, but he loved Destiny’s slim build and had
come up with the perfect sheath dress to highlight Destiny’s long
legs and superlative behind.
Initially the thought of coming up with twenty new garments in
just three months was totally daunting. A lot of the time spent
with new designs was the endless consultations needed with the
clients, to ensure that the finished outfit was perfect in every
way. Fortunately Terry had been working on his portfolio for
years, and had a number of designs, drawn but not made, that
he pulled out every time he had a new client. His drawings gave
the clients some ideas, and they usually just needed a bit of
tweaking. With more than two hundred dress designs to choose
from, not even the pickiest drag queen could claim they couldn’t
find anything to suit.
So engrossed in his work, Terry almost jumped a foot off his seat
when he heard Roy yell out “Oh my God, well, he’s still breathing
at least.” Terry winced at the sarcasm in Roy’s tone and felt
immediately guilty. Looking at the cross faces of Roy, Charlie,
Joel, and even Max, didn’t make him feel any better.
“He might be breathing, but I’m not sure he’s right in the head,”
Joel said, coming closer. “What on earth have you got on?
There’s no way that shirt belongs to you.”
Terry tugged at Zander’s shirt, but not too hard because he
needed the collar to hide the marks on his neck. As he’d said to
Zander in the car, he did swim in his mate’s clothing – the Alpha
was just so freaking big. Too long to tuck into his jeans, Terry
had worn the white shirt over his pants. Because of the length,
he’d used the scarf from earlier as a belt around his waist, and