Canine Cupids for Cops Read online

  Chapter 6

  As Trek led a still slightly wobbly Commando into the backyard a few hours later, he heaved a long sigh. “Hasn’t this been one ballapalooza of a day? I need a cold one, Friend Dan. None for my buddy, though. Right now I don’t think Commando could handle any.”

  “Two coming up,” Dan said. “Then I’ve got to go out and restock our supply.” However, it was some time before he managed that…In fact he had not quite drained his brown bottle when a more urgent need arose.

  The look he intercepted when he glanced across the table at Trek was hot enough to peel the paint off his grandpa’s big-ass red Midwest barn. He went from zero to rock-hard in a nanosecond. “I—er—we’d better go inside.” He could barely croak out the words.

  Before they were a full step past the patio door, Trek grabbed him from behind with both arms. Dan could have pulled free if he’d tried, but he had no motivation. For a breath or two, the other man just held on, an awkward, intense hug. Then his right hand dropped to the bulged front of Dan’s jeans and rolled slowly against the stiff ridge penned behind the unyielding denim.

  “What’s the most exciting thing you ever dreamed, ever wished for?” Trek’s breathy whisper sank in finally, past the overwhelming rush of pure sensation.

  “I—I’m not sure. I don’t think I have much imagination. Or maybe just not enough experience.”

  Trek released him so suddenly Dan felt in instant of chill. Then with a shove, pointed him at the nearest bedroom door. “I’m sure I can help you there. Get onto the bed and out of those fucking Levi’s so I can feel you, taste you…”

  That was an order or an offer Dan was not about to refuse. He stumbled across the floor, hands busy with belt and zipper, then dragging his T-shirt over his head and kicking off his shoes without untying them. Trek finished the job by grabbing the waist of Dan’s Jockeys and ripping them off.

  Staggering, Dan fell facedown onto the bed. Trek followed, right behind him. The next thing he felt was the massaging press of Trek’s hands, worshipping his ass. The touches were that intense, firm yet gentle, molding, rubbing, and kneading.

  Then he felt Trek’s warm breath against his sensitized skin, soon followed by the nudge of a nose down the crack and finally the warm, wet swipe of a tongue, the full length from apex to the back of his balls. He lay on his throbbing cock which was almost hard enough to lift his lower body off the bed. “Gawd, you’re killing me. I’m going to blow up, explode any minute.”

  “Oh no, you can stand a lot more, and you’re going to get it.” Trek’s tone held a hint of laughter, a little taunt, and almost a dare.

  Dan groaned. “You’re evil, just wicked, and I love the hell out of it.” Then Trek slipped two fingers into him and any more speech became impossible. He heard a rustling noise, and for an instant the fingers withdrew. He translated the sounds to envision how Trek had unzipped his pants and donned a condom. An exquisite shudder of arousal and anticipation rolled through him.

  A trickle of warm slickness rolled down the crack of his ass, fingers back, and then withdrawn.

  “Are you ready?”

  Say what? He was way past ready. Somehow the words would not come. He made a mumbling noise he hoped sounded positive and nodded.

  Slick as a prairie dog down its den, no strain or pain, just a silky stretching, probing press, deep and deeper still. Dan could have sworn the head of Trek’s dick was somewhere behind Dan’s bellybutton now. It drew back and plunged in again. This time it touched some place that shot a fierce burst of sensation, as intense as coming only different.

  He heard Trek gasp and then felt the surge and spasms as the other man climaxed. That time he did lift off the bed, stiffening his legs to support his own weight and part of Trek’s. That’s when Trek again reached around and wrapped a firm hand around Dan’s cock. The mere touch was enough to send him over the edge. He exploded as the last small twitches of Trek’s ejaculation tickled inside him.

  They both collapsed after that. Trek drew free and turned just enough to fall at Dan’s side instead of on him. The next thing Dan knew, even though he had no recollection of dozing off, was the tickle of Commando’s nose as the dog sniffed up one of his legs and touched a cheek of his ass, sniffing audibly. Turning his attentions next to Trek, the dog gave a plaintive whine.

  Dan rolled over, turning away from Trek, and struggled to sit up. “I think your dog is jealous,” he said, “or maybe he’s just hungry. He hasn’t had anything to eat since last night in case he had to have the surgery.”

  Trek, still mostly dressed, sat up also and reached to scratch around Commando’s ears. “I think we all need some chow,” he agreed. “I’ll get some kibble for Commando while you get dressed. My treat tonight—whatever you fancy for dinner, something nice, the best to be found in Alamo-J.”

  * * * *

  Dan awoke about the usual time. For a few seconds he was disoriented. Why was there a warm body right against his back? Better than a cold stiff one but not normal, far from familiar. Then it all came back to him. He had a houseguest and temporary companion. Temporary, that was the one aspect he wanted to shy away from.

  Well, shit, nothing was forever, good or bad. He’d just enjoy it while he could. And they did have today. He had to go back to work tonight, on graveyard shift for a while, but that was not until almost eleven. A brief evening nap would get him through that eight hours. That meant at least most of the next sixteen or so were his.

  About that point, Trek yawned and stretched. He clearly felt no confusion upon waking up with someone. That fact seemed nearly as disturbing as the temporary part. A pang of jealousy knifed through Dan’s vitals at the image of all those other guys that had rolled through Trek’s bed, into and out of his life…He gave his head a firm shake and pasted on a smile as he turned toward Trek. “So, bud, what do you want to do today?”

  Trek sat up, shoving the sheet and light spread down well past his waist. “Take a leak, get outside a cup of coffee, and then maybe you, for starters. Might even change the order, but the first has to come first. Oh, and check on Commando too.”

  Upon hearing his name, the dog got up from his bed, which Trek had placed in the hallway right outside the door. It was a good place, since the breeze from the evaporative cooler blew down right there, and the dog could see most of the house’s interior area. Commando shook his head to make his tags jingle, stretched, and then padded to Trek’s said of the bed. When Trek swung his legs off the bed, stood, and headed for the john, Commando was right at his heels.

  Dan had to grin. Pit Bull or not, Trek had himself one hell of a dog. He decided at that moment to visit the local shelter and bring one home the day Trek left. It would help ease the pain of the inevitable parting, at least some. He didn’t have time for any more bright ideas because his gaze fell on Trek, bare-assed and beautiful, heading toward him. A blazing fireball landed somewhere behind his belly button and shot sparks in every direction.

  “I gotta piss,” he blurted, “but whatever’s on your mind, hold that thought. I’ll be back before you can blink twice.”

  Trek only smiled but shot a hand out to swat Dan’s bare butt as they passed. “No worries,” he replied then. “I’ll make sure you don’t run off for the next thirty minutes or so.”

  “Couldn’t,” Dan said, raising his voice to carry above the splash. “Running with a hard-on hurts like hell.”

  Dan turned back just in time to see Trek flop onto the bed, an echo of Dan’s pose the previous afternoon. The writer had a pretty fine ass along with his other attributes. Dan never paid much attention to his own, but this one was world class. He stopped, gasping for breath as he felt the blood pound into his head—both of them, really. As he got closer, he saw the foil packets and a tube of lube at Trek’s side.

  “Were you a Boy Scout?”

  “Yep. I never forgot how critical it is to be prepared—always.”

  Dan stooped to put a kiss on each smooth white cheek. He ran his hands over th
e curves and hollows, memorizing the way Trek’s skin felt under his palms and the small twitches and quivers the other man could not control.

  “As soon as you’re ready, I’m way past ready,” Trek said, his voice lower and more gravelly than normal.

  Dan lost no time drawing on a rubber and trailing a stream of lube down Trek’s tempting crack and spreading a handful on himself. He could not admit he’d never done this before, but he worried and even thought a prayer or two as he dragged his prick up and down the exposed crack. Then nature took over. His dick seemed to know exactly where to go and what to do. He let it, just hanging on for the ride.

  For his first rodeo, it seemed like a pretty good one. When he finally pulled free, he managed to stay on his feet but just barely.

  Trek rolled over, sat up, and grinned at him. “Not bad for a beginner. It was your first time, wasn’t it?”

  Dan felt the flush heat his face. “That obvious?”

  Trek chuckled at Dan’s chagrin which had to be obvious, as well. “Not really. If I wasn’t a connoisseur, I’d never have guessed. You were just a little too hesitant at first. Next time it’ll be easy-peasy.”

  He waited, looking up at Dan. Dan’s gaze dropped from the other man’s face, and he saw Trek’s cock, riding high. Oh fuck, I forgot to take care of him. Duh!

  “Are you up to a BJ? If not, I’ll just jack off for now.”

  Trek’s tone was so calm and matter-of-fact that Dan blushed again. “Oh no, you don’t have to go that far. I’d be happy to blow you.” He proceeded to do just that and apparently did a perfectly acceptable job of it too.

  “Okay, now I can consider your earlier question. I’ll even wait for the coffee, but you might make a pot while I check Commando over and give him a little breakfast.”

  * * * *

  As he downed a second cup of fresh coffee and set the mug aside, Dan looked at Trek. “Okay, we’ve got the important stuff taken care of. What’ll we do with the rest of the day?”

  “I’ve lost that lengthy list of things to see and do you threw at me the other day, but wherever we go, I want to take Commando along. I’m sure he’d be fine here, but I don’t want to risk him climbing any more gates.”

  Dan thought a moment. “Hell, I don’t even remember all the ideas I gave you. Lessee—I know the folks who run the ghost town and movie set place. If you keep Commando leashed, I’m sure they’ll let you take him around. And that should get us home in time that I can grab a few Zs before I go on duty at eleven.”

  Half an hour later, they were headed out to the interstate in Trek’s rental, Commando sprawled in the back seat. The dog promptly went to sleep. The site was about thirty miles west of town and then a few miles down a gravel road. It took them about an hour to get there. Trek paid the admission, and they drove on to the main parking area.

  Although it was midweek, summer tourists were on the road and several families had found their way to the attraction. Gunpowder Camp advertised at most of the convenience stops and service stations along a two-hundred-mile stretch of freeway and had a few big billboards as well.

  Dan looked around, trying to see the false fronts lining “Main Street” and the costumed guides and actors as a stranger might. Although to him it looked hokey to the max, the visiting kids took a less jaundiced view. Much to Dan’s surprise, Trek did too. He grabbed a couple of cameras and began snapping pictures left and right. He even took some video of a mock gunfight and an old prospector with a shaggy burro. When Commando’s leash proved awkward, he relinquished the dog to Dan’s care.

  Dan found enough amusement in tagging along, watching Trek, and making sure Commando stayed at his heel. The dog seemed very calm and didn’t mind the noise and hubbub going on around him. If Commando was a typical Pit Bull, their reputations were certainly not deserved. Although he might not choose one for the dog he intended to acquire soon, Dan briefly imagined what it would feel like to have such a canine companion. So far, gate climbing aside, it seemed pretty damn good. Commando sure made Trek happy.

  Chapter 7

  Finally they both put on a few pieces of the owner’s extensive costume stock and posed for pictures at the Blacksmith Shop which actually held a studio just for that purpose. Dan donned a pair of garish chaps, a big black hat, and a gunfighter holster rig with two shiny .45s. Trek ambled up to his side and gave him a poke in the ribs while the photographer got ready to take the shot.

  “Damn, you look super delish in that outfit. I’d prefer you in only the chaps and not one stitch more, though. And you don’t need to carry a big gun—at least not another one.”

  Trek’s stage whisper made Dan blush. Still, he could not help feeling flattered and also excited. Maybe he could borrow a pair of real chaps from one of his fellow officers who maintained a little ranch a few miles out of town and talked a lot about his horses and rodeo past. If he could swing it, he’d surprise Trek some evening before the other man left.

  His portrait was going to come out almost X-rated. His sudden hard-on strained against the fly of his jeans, and he could not wipe the silly grin off his face. Who would have thought of a prosaic item like chaps as erotic? He would now until his dying day!

  When Trek’s turn came, he put on a black frock coat, a narrower brimmed hat, and posed shuffling a deck of cards. Dan decided that looked pretty damn sexy too.

  They had sarsaparillas with buffalo burgers at the snack shop and ate out on the porch so Commando could stay with them. Trek even ordered a plain hamburger patty for the dog, which Commando clearly enjoyed. He gobbled it in about two bites and looked around for more.

  About four thirty, Trek declared he had seen enough. They loaded up and headed back to Alamo Junction. “That was total fun,” Trek said, as he took the ramp back onto the freeway. “I can’t wait to write this one up. My editor is going to love it. I know I got some great photos to illustrate it. Then I’ll put the videos up on the website right away. You’re proving to be invaluable, Dan. Who would have guessed a grungy little desert town would hold so many fabulous things?”

  When they got back to Dan’s house, Dan halfway hoped that Trek would want to fool around again, but instead the other man glanced at his watch and then looked at him with a sober expression.

  “You’re going to be heading out to fight crime in about five hours. As much as I’d like to remember those chaps and share some fun, I don’t want you on the job tired and less than alert. Get your ass off to bed. I’m going to work on my articles.”

  With that he turned to the room he’d claimed as his and shut the door firmly behind him. He didn’t even let Commando in. The dog followed Dan as he went to his room, stripped off his boots, jeans, and shirt and flopped down on the bed. It still carried their scent and a whiff of the hot times they had shared there. Dan sighed. He might even sleep better if Trek was here too, but he also knew temptation probably would get the best of them.

  Commando sniffed around the edges of the bed before he flumped down with an aggrieved grunt on the side where Trek had slept. “Me too, old bud, but the boss has spoken. Let’s take us a nap.”

  * * * *

  Two days later, Dan got the chaps. Although Rory Perkins looked at him with curiosity, he didn’t ask Dan why he needed them. If he had, Dan was not sure what kind of explanation he could make since for sure the truth wouldn’t do. When he left the station to head home, he bundled them into a black plastic bag to smuggle into the house.

  When Dan walked in at seven thirty, he found Trek in the kitchen. The scent of fresh brewed coffee hung in the air and other yummy smells issued from a bubbling frying pan in which Trek stirred a mixture that gave off bacon odor, a hint of peppers, and probably eggs. Dan wrinkled his nose in appreciation, sniffing much as Commando also was doing. “I’ll be right back.”

  Dan had tucked the bag under his arm, hoping it would blend with his black web belt and other gear. Trek hardly turned around, though, so he figured the surprise was safe. He hurried into his room, kicked the
bag under the foot of the bed and hung his working belt and his gear on the customary hook inside the door.

  Back in the kitchen, he accepted the steaming mug Trek handed him and sat down while his guest dished up toast browned just the way he liked it and a fluffy omelet. The guy was as good in the kitchen as he was in bed, or anywhere else, really. Dan had to bite back an urge to declare, “Man, I think I’m in love with you.”

  In a few short days, as soon as Commando’s quarantine ended, he knew Trek would be on his way. The day before, the special trailer Trek arranged for the Fury had arrived. The abused car was loaded and sent off to Tennessee for its repairs. Probably that would be where Trek would go first too. Dan already dreaded this inevitable ending.

  Of course they were a total mismatch, Trek with his élan, sophistication, and insouciant manner and Dan, still just a plain old country boy who grew painfully shy when he was not able to hide behind his badge, and the reflective shades he wore unless it was pitch-dark. Dealing with people as anyone but Officer Winstead took all the courage he could dredge up. Even his gayness didn’t help. If anything, he still wore it awkwardly and had to work not to be defensive about it. That damn cousin and his mean razzing…

  On the other hand, Dan could not visualize Trek ever being ill at ease or less than totally assured. No, they were about as opposite as black and white, rich and poor. Dan could never fit comfortably into Trek’s world, and after the new wore off, Trek would be bored stiff in Dan’s.

  Even this depressing awareness didn’t kill Dan’s appetite, though. He ate every bite of the delicious omelet and washed it down with two cups of coffee. Meanwhile, Trek toyed with his food, his faraway stare missing Dan by at least forty-five degrees. What was the other man thinking? Could he be anxious to get back on the road?

  With a sudden urge to shatter the silence which was growing awkward, Dan blurted the first thing he thought of, a question. “Is your name really Trek? I mean for a travel writer, it’s just too perfect.”