Trapping Drake 02 - Setting The Trap Read online

“Okay. I love you, but I’m being paged.”

  “I’ll see you before you go out, right?”

  “Right.”

  Chapter Three

  The Styrofoam container tumbled to the ground. Jay gave only a moment’s thought to whether the chicken tikka massala would leak and create a mess to clean up. If anything, the food odor might help disguise what they were doing here.

  Jay groaned into Drake’s mouth. His lips parted easily to the urgent questing tongue, and he sucked it in. Strong arms encircled him, lifting him up so their groins nestled together, hardness against hardness, heat against heat. Jay curled one hand around his neck, digging fingers into the soft brown hair. He slipped his other hand down the taut muscles of Drake’s back, sliding it under the belted waistband of those tight pants. When Drake pulled away from the kiss, gasping for breath, Jay felt a pang of regret. This was more than the usual greeting, he felt like he’d needed this kiss, this contact desperately after his asinine behavior this morning.

  “Drake!” He protested.

  “Didn’t come here for this. Just brought your lunch. Aren’t you hungry?” Drake husked, tracing his index finger over Jay’s kiss damp lips, eye hot and humid with lust.

  Jay kissed his way down the bristly column of Drake’s neck to the hollow of his throat. He was hungry all right, hungry for the reassurance of physical contact with the man who seemed to keep his world tilted on a permanent axis of emotional upheaval. His lips tingled with the friction of the dark stubble. Jay licked the tender spot at the base of Drake’s throat. “Not hungry for food,” he whispered before biting down and scraping his teeth over soft skin.

  Drake startled. “Oh, God. You’re going to leave a mark. Be careful.”

  A mark. His mark on Drake’s skin? Doubts crept in, and he tried to pull away, but Drake clenched his fingers in Jay’s hair, tugging the strands painfully from their pony tail and cradled his head, holding him in place when he would have withdrawn. “I can button my collar and put the tie back on. I want your mark on me. Do it, Jay.”

  “Jesse?” What would Jesse say? He yearned to mark Drake now that the idea had crossed his mind, but he didn’t want to upset Jesse. Drake was more Jesse’s than his.

  Drake groaned. “He can give me a matching mark tonight. Before we go out. You know he wants you and me to go without him, right?”

  Yeah. Jesse wanted him and Drake to spend more time together. Jesse wouldn’t mind. He didn’t speak though, just sucked the skin between his teeth, scraping and rubbing his tongue over the tender bit. Drake groaned and threw back his head, giving Jay more room to maneuver.

  He sucked strongly, feeling Drake’s hands tighten on his ass, urging him closer. Drake began humping against him, rubbing them together, moaning softly.

  Jay wiggled a hand between them, pressing against Drake’s thick cock, “I want you to fuck me.” He couldn’t meet Drake’s eyes, spoke into the warm wet hollow he’d just turned a deep dark red with the pressure of his mouth.

  “Here in the store room? Is it safe?”

  Safe? “Define safe? Don’t stop. Fuck me.” Jay blew hot breath across the mark he’d made Enjoying Drake’s shiver of response.

  “Safe as in, is anyone with a key going to open that door and catch us with our pants down?” But Drake’s big blunt fingered hands worked the fastenings of their clothes, tugging down zippers, shifting underwear, shoving the elastic-waisted scrubs down to completely expose Jay’s throbbing dick.

  “No one. This closet is sacred ground for the staff here. It’s our cry room, our hiding place.” He’d barely gotten the words out before Drake shoved him to the floor, dropping down with him, and then taking his mouth back in a kiss.

  Drake devoured his mouth, and Jay let him. He more than let him, he encouraged him. Chased his tongue with his own, sucked and licked and nibbled and teased until they panted for breath.

  Their mouths separated reluctantly, but only long enough for Jay to twist onto his knees and brace his elbows on the waxed floor. He propped his head on his forearms and peeked over his shoulder at Drake, who knelt in the small space behind him. From the waist up he was all professional, neat white dress shirt, open at the throat, where the deep red mark, his mark, showed. Jay quivered possessively. His. But below, his gaze raced back down, Drake was all sex god...dress pants open as much as possible, shoved slightly down, his thick cock poked out the slit of his boxer briefs in tempting display.

  Drake stroked his cock with a brooding expression.

  “What?” Jay whimpered. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re sure about this?” Drake’s cheeks flushed a deep red to match the mark on his neck, his lips were shiny and swollen. “I pushed you this morning, I...”

  “Yeah. I want this. I’m sorry I was an ass this morning.” Guilt tore at the edges of his consciousness, but want overrode everything. “I want, Drake. Please, fuck me.”

  “I need you so much,” Drake murmured, placing a strong hand in the small of Jay’s back, guiding himself forward with the other before freezing. “Lube?”

  Jay gave an aborted chuckle. “Supply closet...there’s got to be some here somewhere. Weren’t you a boy scout? Why aren’t you prepared?”

  “Cuz I’m in a relationship. Everything I need is at your house.” Soft curses and the rattling sounds of Drake digging through the shelves kept pace with Jay’s rapidly beating heart. “What am I looking for here? Gimme a name on the box!”

  Jay spotted the box in front of himself, at eye level on the shelf. “This.” Surgilube, in individual foil packets. He reached into the box and removed a packet. “Here.”

  In seconds slick fingers drenched in cool liquid gel rubbed at his hole, massaging the muscles. It felt so good, he bit his forearm to stifle his cries. “Drake...”

  “Yeah.” A finger pushed in, and Jay’s body gave way. It hadn’t been all that long since Drake fucked him this morning, and the muscles were more than willing to repeat the experience.

  Jay leaned back and the finger slid deeper, rubbing on his prostrate briefly before retreating. It slid back accompanied by a second finger, and Jay twisted, spine arching. Sensation rushed from his groin throughout his body, heat building, muscles tensing and relaxing in waves of pleasure. “Drake!” He cried again. “Now, please!” He wanted to be filled with Drake, to come with Drake.

  “You’re gorgeous,” Drake assured him, bending to kiss the nape of his neck, nuzzling his pony tail out of the way to lick down his vertebra. And all along, those insidious fingers kept pumping, and sensation kept sparking, and his balls tightened and orgasm hovered.

  Drake’s hot breath teased his body as much as the slick caress of his tongue, the tender mouthings of his lips. Desperate, Jay brought a hand down to stroke his cock, but Drake slapped it away. “Not yet. Want you to come while I’m in you.”

  “Then hurry the fuck up already!” Jay whined. The whine would have embarrassed him, but somehow this tiny intimate space held room for lust and heat and want but not room for useless things like embarrassment and guilt and jealousy.

  Drake chuckled and shifted position, and his fingers slid from Jay’s body with a wet sucking sound. Now that was embarrassing. Heat flared in his cheeks, but the broad, leaking tip of Drake’s cock kissed his hole, and Jay forgot everything. Pride, dignity, grace, these things meant nothing when he was getting exactly what he wanted.

  But he could give as much as he got, and he squeezed tight, enjoying Drake’s gasp as his sphincter nipped at that invading head, before he relaxed and pushed back.

  “Oh God, Jay. It’s going. So tight...”

  Drake’s words lost all meaning as the blunt thickness slid past the ring of muscle, the burn fading as pleasure spiked, and grew from the friction. Jay twisted, pushing and pulling, rocking his hips to control the feelings until Drake’s hands closed on his hips and held him still.

  “Gonna drive me insane if you keep that up. Let me give this to you, Jay.”

  Jay whimpered. �
��Yes,” he hissed as Drake seated himself fully inside Jay’s channel. There balls bounced together, Drake retreated a bit, and then pushed forward again. Jay groaned, Drake’s hand found his cock and a rhythm began.

  “Oh, Drake.” Jay whispered. He peered over his shoulder, again. Drake’s expression now was intent, his brows furrowed in concentration. “Too good, Drake. I won’t last.”

  Drake smiled wickedly, his nostrils flared. “Good. I love the way your body pulses around me when you come.”

  Jay growled. “I’m serious, Drake. I want you to come with me.”

  Drake’s lips tightened and his eyelids slid to half mast. “Can’t. No condom.”

  Fuck it all. “Damn it!” He squeezed his cheeks and wriggled. Drake gasped behind him. The whole experience, the scent of their bodies mingling in the darkness of the supply closet, the heat of Drake behind him, inside him, the incredible friction on his cock, in his body...it built to a climax he couldn’t stop.

  Drake’s teeth sank into his shoulder and his hand squeezed tighter, pulling ruthlessly at Jay’s cock. The final swipe of a thumb over his slick head sent a shudder of reaction through Jay. Cum burst forth in long spurts, Drake groaned and cursed and jerked his cock from Jay’s body with a muffled roar. Jay hadn’t even recovered his breath when the first hot stream of ejaculate hit his buttocks. He shivered in lethargic pleasure, body trembling with sated lust as the second shot pooled in the dip of his spine, then sighed in gratification as a third and fourth streak hit his cheeks.

  Drake’s cheek rubbed against his back like sand paper, but the man was careful not the get his work shirt sticky. Jay smiled dreamily. Practical. What was not to love about a practical man?

  “I think our lunch break is over.” Drake murmured, shifting upright. Jay breathed deeply. Yeah. Lunch was over.

  “Okay.” Drake handed him something and then began swabbing cum from his back with a rough towel.

  “What is that?” Jay jerked away. He’d almost rather spend the rest of the day smelling like Drake’s cum, but he knew he couldn’t.

  “Just a towel from the pile. Not soft enough for you, princess?” The teasing reminded Jay of the times they’d spent together, laughing and playing.

  “Hospital budget doesn’t extend to fucking fabric softener.” He grabbed the towel and wiped up his own mess from the floor. “Don’t worry about it. I have clean scrubs in the locker room. Always keep an extra pair or two on hand, because you never know what’s going to happen.” Admittedly, usually he changed scrubs when they became splattered with blood or vomit or other bodily fluids, not ejaculate, but it was handy.

  “Yeah. I’ve got to go. We got a call about a suspicious accident scene. Sean and I are going to stop over and try to figure out whether it falls in our department or not.”

  Biting his lip to keep from cautioning Drake, Jay turned his head away. Worry nagged at him. Jay saw a lot of things in the emergency room, but the thing that scared him most lately was the uniforms. It amazed him how many professionals, fire fighters, cops, security people, were injured in the line of duty. “Be careful.” He swallowed the other words that wanted to come out. The lecture on safety and the demands that Drake remember he had people who would worry about him.

  Drake was practical, hadn’t he just noted that? He didn’t need to carry Jay’s concerns around with him. He didn’t need to bear Jay’s burdens.

  “Yeah. I will.” Drake had adjusted his clothing as they spoke, and now stood, shifting from foot to foot in the tiny spacing, eyeing Jay with an intensity that would have scared him this morning.

  “What, Drake?”

  “Jesse wants us to go out without him tonight.”

  “I know.” Jay crumpled the sticky towel in his hands. His scrubs felt uncomfortable and the thermal undershirt too tight. “We don’t have to.”

  “I want to. But not if it makes you uncomfortable.” Drake cupped his jaw, tilted Jay’s face up to look into his eyes. Jay met the brown gaze uncertainly. “I want to be with you Jay.”

  “Jesse...”

  “Loves you. I know that. But I feel like there’s something there for me too, and that you and I...we could have so much more, Jay.”

  Jay nodded, swallowing hard. His eyes burned a little. His blood felt thick and heavy. “Yeah, maybe.” Maybe it can work. Maybe we can spend time together as a group and as couples. Maybe jealousy won’t destroy everything. And maybe if it does I won’t be the one left alone. Maybe. “Fuck.”

  A soft kiss brushed over his lips, and bright fluorescent light from the corridor sent him hurtling into temporary blindness. He’d just fucked Jesse’s boyfriend...the man they were supposed to be sharing. Shit.

  And he was late back to work.

  Chapter Four

  The neighborhood was vibrant in the unbearably bright afternoon sunlight. If your only qualification for vibrancy is teeming with life. It was one of those crowded poverty stricken eyesores full of weary houses and worn down people. A few rare well-tended homes stood out as beacons of hope on a street full of derelict shacks. This square mile housed more people than any other neighborhood in his district. Most residents contentedly stayed and moldered like the houses.

  Little houses, crammed side by side with tiny patches of weedy lawn and debris strewn drives dotted the crowded street lined with an astonishing number of cars. Unlike the houses, a lot of the cars were surprisingly new and shiny or old and clearly well tended. It made sense though. The vehicles were the only ticket out of this one way street to stagnation.

  Drake hated coming here. The drugs, the gang bangers, the old people with dead eyes sitting in white plastic chairs on their dilapidated front porches... He’d been that man once. If it hadn’t been for circumstance, he’d be one of the T-shirt clad thirty-year-olds with a permanent sneer standing at the fence watching the cops with narrowed eyes. Except, he never would have worn saggy pants and let his boxers show. Jay would though. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Jay. The scent of their sexual escapade in the hospital supply closet clung to him. Cum and citrus and rich spicy tikka massala mingled. He could even still taste the faint coffee and tobacco flavor of Jay’s breath on his lips. He pushed the memories away. Had to concentrate on the potential crime scene, not the shambles his love life was turning into.

  Instead, he was one of the cops squeezing his way past rusted cyclone fences that didn’t move, picking his way self-consciously over cracked sidewalks to ask questions no one would answer.

  “Good morning, I’m Detective Drake Fallon. Did you witness the accident this morning?” The plump Hispanic woman’s eyes had an interesting oriental tilt, and that alone probably marked her as an outsider in this area.

  She shifted the fat baby on her hip and her grip on the toddler’s shoulder tightened. “I ain’t see no accident. Heard it, though.”

  “Big crash.” The little boy interjected, sticking his thumb in his mouth.

  “Yeah?” The kid was cute, but all of them were at one point weren’t they? Drake had a hard time seeing this one as anything but a future gang member or drug dealer, someone he’d have to bust for something, some day. “Tell me what you heard.”

  “What he said, big loud noise early this morning.”

  Drake eyed her tightly. Prying information out of the residents of these slums was often more difficult than tracking serial killers. “You didn’t go check and see if it was your car that got hit?”

  She shook her head. “Ain’t got no car.”

  Yeah, that kid was never getting out of this life. “Did you hear anything besides the collision?”

  “Huh? I just hear the car get hit. It happens alla time here. Too many cars on the street, too much drinking, don’t make good parking.”

  “The man driving that car wasn’t drunk. He was shot.”

  Her face paled beneath the natural tan. “Didn’t hear no shooting.” She cast furtive glances at the men by the fence, the ones who seemed not to look away from the scene, but who were surely making
note of everything, and everyone who talked. “I gotta go.”

  The screen door that closed in his face was warped and rusted. The door didn’t quite fit the opening, just like the accident didn’t quite ring true. Drake sighed and pivoted on his heel, making his way back down the dandelion strewn walkway, squeezing through the rusted-in-place gate, to the even less well maintained sidewalk.

  Conscious of the men’s eyes on his back, he headed for the next house. They had to determine what came first, the collision or the gunshot. Getting the time line right was his job. Getting the cause of death was the ME’s field. The next house was one of the few beacons of hope. It had been well maintained, recently painted. The lawn was lush, green and trimmed neatly. Red geraniums and pink tulips grew in window boxes flanked by white shutters, and a jute welcome mat beckoned him to the doorway.

  The gate that set this oasis apart from the encroaching despair of the rest of the neighborhood was a white picket affair, barely knee high. He could have stepped over it if it hadn’t sung easily open at the first touch. The sidewalk he traveled to the burgundy door was weed-free, even if the cracks in the cement resembled canyons. A well dressed man in khaki pants and a neat polo shirt answered his knock promptly. Finally, someone who might actually admit to having seen or heard something! If he were lucky, he could get a statement out of this guy and they could be on their way.

  He’d looked forward to spending the evening with his boyfriends, but now that Jesse was staying home, he couldn’t wait to see Jay alone. When they’d been alone at lunch Jay had been different, and Drake wanted more of that Jay—the one who clearly wanted him. After that morning, he’d been close to calling it quits. Something in that turned back this morning bothered him. He’d pushed too hard to force Jay to participate rather than accept, and he needed to solidify his place in Jay’s life before Jay started his next round of nightshifts.

  “Good morning sir. I’m Detective Drake Fallon, I’d like to ask you a few questions about the incident this morning.” Already he was searching through the groups of people on the street, looking for his partner. They’d split up to help canvass, hoping to get everything cleared sooner.