“Backatcha.” Denis nuzzled close, brushing against Cherry’s lips in a way that seemed to set every atom on fire.
Hands brushed the front of Cherry’s pants and he pulled back to accommodate Denis’ seeking fingers. Those same fingers quickly wrapped around Cherry’s cock and stroked slowly. “God.” Cherry let his eyes close, straining to hold still as Denis played. Then the heat and pleasure went away and Cherry’s eyes snapped open to see Denis fumbling with the drawer of the coffee table.
“Dammit.” The drawer pulled out, spilling everything on the floor. “We need to move this to the bedroom. And remind me later to restock our supplies.” Denis leaned up and pressed a kiss to Cherry’s lips. “Because spontaneity apparently needs planning.”
Cherry laughed as he moved, and reached for Denis’ hand to pull him upright. “Planned or not, get your ass to the bedroom, my Guy. I want to love on you.”
“You do not need to tell me twice, baby.”
Cherry slipped an arm around Denis’ waist. “Come on, my Guy.” He paused and looked up at Denis. “You gotta tell me if I’m pressing past any kind of line you might have, Denis.” He swallowed and heard his throat click, a dryness there that hadn’t been present throughout the entire fight tonight. “I’m pulling you into my world pretty fast. Let me know if we need to do more talking, or slow down, or anything.” Closing his eyes, he burst out, “Fuck! Why is this so goddamned hard?”
“Because it matters.” Denis pressed a kiss against Cherry’s temple. “Because life is hard and real, and in our face. And sometimes bloody.” He pulled back and Cherry was looking up into his eyes. “Did I tell you I finally asked Judge Cooper about the tape recorder in the PD’s room?” Cherry shook his head. “He claimed no knowledge, and took me down to the room ASAP to check it out. The set-up was gone.”
“Dammit, who would have had time to yank things out?”
“Me.”
Cherry felt his eyes get round. “You? What the fuck?”
“I have pictures of the illegal tape station, but if I need to, I can surface the actual tape and device. There are some interesting conversations that happened in that room.” Denis grinned, spreading his feet as he pulled Cherry close. “The look on Cooper’s face was telling, because he didn’t know about it. There was no fear or anger at it being gone. He probably is still waiting for the punchline of a joke I wasn’t making.”
“Interesting. If not him, then who?”
“I’ve got my suspicions, and right up there is the state AG wannabe. The main bailiff is his cousin on his momma’s side, and they’re thick as thieves.” Denis leaned in and captured Cherry’s mouth, his eyes fluttering closed. “Now, where were we?”
Cherry angled his jaw, inviting more of Denis’ attention. “Let’s get headed to the bedroom, my Guy. Let’s set the world aside and celebrate the good guys winning one today.”
“Agree you’re a good guy.” Denis caught another kiss before turning to lead Cherry to the bedroom. “Agree you’re my guy.”
“Maybe we’re each other’s guy?” Cherry let their arms stretch out, his focus on the way their hands slotted together. “I think that’s the most plausible thing. We both found what we wanted, and it happens to be with each other.”
***
Aweek later, Cherrynoticed how the city lights flickered through the window of Denis’s living room, casting a soft glow across the hardwood floor where he stood, still clad in his leather motorcycle jacket. The ride from tonight’s bar had been exhilarating. Cherry enjoyed weaving his bike through the late-night streets, Denis’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist, the lawyer’s chest pressed against his back. The vibration of the engine, the cool night air, and the heat of Denis’s body had left Cherry buzzing with anticipation. Now, inside the quiet of Denis’s upscale house, that buzz felt like a live wire sparking between them.
Cherry unzipped his jacket, letting it hang open to reveal a tight black T-shirt that clung to his lean, muscled frame. He was all rough edges, nothing soft about him. From the calloused hands earned by wrenching bikes, to a faint scar on his jaw from a bar fight years ago, and a smirk that promised trouble.
Denis, in contrast, was polished as always, his tailored shirt slightly rumpled from the ride, his dark hair mussed just enough to hint at the man beneath the lawyer’s facade.
What they had was still so new. In terms of time, it had been just a handful of dates and late-night texts building something fragile but potent. No confessions of love, no grand promises...yet. But in terms of emotional connection, there was just a shared understanding that they were drawn to each other in ways neither could quite explain.
“Drink?” Denis asked, his voice low, almost cautious, as he closed the door behind them. He stood close enough that Cherry could smell his cologne, the scent hinting at something crisp and expensive, undercut by the faintest trace of sweat from their ride.
Cherry shook his head, stepping closer, his boots heavy on the floor. “Don’t need it,” he said, his voice carrying the gravel of too many whiskey shots and late nights. “Got enough of a buzz already.” His hand reached out, fingers grazing the collar of Denis’s shirt, the fabric smooth under his rough touch.
Denis caught his wrist, his grip firm but gentle, and brought Cherry’s hand to his lips. He kissed the knuckles, his eyes locked on Cherry’s, dark and searching. “What do you want, then?” The question was a challenge, an invitation wrapped in velvet.
“You,” Cherry said, the word simple but heavy with intent. He closed the distance, their lips meeting in a kiss that was soft at first, more an exploratory expedition. Cherry’s hands framed Denis’s face, thumbs brushing over the faint stubble along his jaw. The pressure of Denis’s arms slid around Cherry’s waist, pulling him closer until their bodies pressed together, the leather of Cherry’s jacket creaking softly.
The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, like they were savoring the taste of each other. Cherry’s tongue traced the seam of Denis’s lips, coaxing them open, and Denis responded with a quiet moan, his tongue meeting Cherry’s in a languid dance. The world narrowed to the immediate moment. He focused on the warmth of their mouths, the slight hitch in Denis’s breath, the way his fingers tightened in his Guy’s hair. It was intimate, unhurried, a tableau where time seemed to pause.
Denis pulled back just enough to trail kisses along Cherry’s neck, his lips finding the pulse point beneath his ear. Cherry tilted his head, giving him better access, a soft sigh escaping him as Denis nipped lightly at the sensitive skin. “You smell like the road,” Denis murmured, his breath hot against Cherry’s throat. “Leather and gasoline.”
“Complaining?” Cherry’s voice was teasing, but there was a vulnerability beneath it, a question he didn’t voice.
“Never.” Denis pushed the jacket off Cherry’s shoulders, letting it fall. Cherry caught it before it hit the floor, folding it reverently with the patch on the top of the bundle. Denis’s fingers traced the hem of Cherry’s shirt, slipping just beneath to graze the warm skin of Cherry’s abdomen.
Cherry’s breath caught, and he tugged at Denis’s tie, loosening the knot with deft fingers. “This thing’s gotta go,” he muttered, tossing the silk aside. His hands worked quickly on the buttons of Denis’s shirt, revealing smooth skin and the faint definition of his chest. Cherry’s palms slid over Denis’s shoulders, pushing the shirt off, his touch lingering as if memorizing every inch.
