Canine Cupids for Cops Page 15

  Craig nodded. “All right. Get busy sucking.”

  Chapter 3

  Craig’s cock jerked with every heartbeat. With his hands locked behind his back, Roy bobbed around trying to catch it. Finally Craig either got impatient or took pity on him. He caught his prick and held it steady until Roy closed his mouth over the dark head. For a moment, he just held the head in his lips, savoring the feel and taste, the heat and powerful maleness of it. Then he ran his tongue around the groove behind the head, teasing the nerve buds that clustered there. Craig gave a moan of delight.

  “Oh, my God, that feels so good!”

  After he teased with his flicking tongue a few more seconds, Roy began to work his way down Craig’s thick rod. By gradual degrees, he took it deep into his mouth, until the tip bumped the back of his throat. He’d long ago lost the gag reflex and now relaxed his throat muscles to take even more of that impressive length. The blond cop was one well-hung guy, no question about that. He began a slow rhythm, sucking deep and then sliding back until only the head was clasped by his lips. Within a few strokes, Craig began to move, thrusting as Roy sucked, growing even harder and thicker with each repetition.

  At last, with obvious reluctance, he withdrew and pushed Roy back on his heels. “You’re right. You suck cock really well, but right now I want to fuck that nice ass of yours.”

  “Yes,” Roy said. “Oh, yeah, I want that too. I want to feel that big cock of yours, clear up to your balls.”

  Roy tried to get up enough to rest his body on the bed, but his legs had gone to sleep. Without the use of his hands, he was almost as helpless as a turtle on its back. Seeing the problem, Craig caught his arm and lifted him off the floor. Roy fell forward face down onto the bed. Again he felt the slick coolness of the bedspread, almost like water under his face. The fabric held a faint trace of Craig’s unique scent, a combination of sweat and maleness, the juniper odor of his shaving lotion, and a hint of Sam as well. He inhaled the scent, as if to fix it in his senses.

  After he retrieved a tube of lube and a condom from the dresser, Craig caught Roy by the hips and lifted, helping him to get his legs under him so he rested on his chest and his knees. That put his butt at the right level for Craig’s height standing beside the bed. Craig traced a finger down the crease, probed gently and then more firmly at Roy’s anus. Roy shivered, involuntarily clenching and releasing the muscles there. Roy heard the sounds as Craig rolled the condom onto his erection. He rubbed lube on the tip and then around Roy’s ass. After what seemed forever, he stroked his cock along the same path his finger had taken. Then with a quick, hard thrust, he sheathed himself deep.

  At the same moment, he smacked Roy on one buttock and then the other, not really hard, but a stinging slap. At that, Roy almost came, but he fought it. He wasn’t going to mess that nice bedspread and earn a real punishment. Still, he surrendered himself to the incredible sensations of Craig’s cock deep inside him, pushing against his sensitive prostate and filling him to the very max.

  Yeah, oh, yeah. Oh, God, I’ve needed this so much.

  Craig grasped Roy by his hips, fingers digging deep into the muscle to steady him against the pounding thrusts. Without that assistance, Roy would have slid away on the slippery bedspread, having no way to stop himself from moving. His hands were getting numb, but he could stand that a little longer, at least as long as Craig’s fantastic prick was ramming into him.

  It didn’t seem to take nearly long enough for Craig to come. Roy felt the shudders rack the other man’s body and heard his deep, grunting groan. As Craig withdrew, he smacked Roy on the butt again. With a whimper of ecstasy mixed with the jolt of pain, Roy collapsed onto his stomach on the bed.

  Craig’s sudden exclamation startled him. “My God, man, your hands are almost blue. You should’ve said something. They’re ice-cold too.” Craig fumbled with the cuffs, then went for the key in the pocket of his discarded trousers. “I swear, I totally forgot. Are you okay?”

  Roy’s limp arms slid to his sides when Craig removed the handcuffs. Needles of pain shot through his wrists and then to his fingers as the circulation began to return. “Yeah, I’m all right. I didn’t want you to take them off until you were done.”

  He rolled over, slow and clumsy with his weak, tingling arms unable to provide much help. Craig stood at the foot of the bed, fists on his lean hips, staring down at Roy. He wore a frown of concern. Roy fidgeted, troubled at the evidence of the other man’s care. It was both good and bad…bad because he didn’t expect a dom to show any weakness or softening, yet good because it revealed that Craig already considered Roy more than just a piece of ass to use and boot aside.

  Craig was not Daniel Reeves. That much was very clear. Roy winced, remembering the first time Daniel had fucked him, hard and fast, without any preparation. It had felt like he was getting reamed with one of those tools mechanics used to hone cylinders on an engine. He’d been raw and sore for a week.

  Roy had soon learned to keep his mouth shut and to ignore the pain any way he could because if he howled or even whimpered, that only earned him more, worse. Finally the roughness had become almost necessary for Roy to get off. Arousal, restraint, and pain were inseparably intertwined in his sexual experience. Sometimes he hated it and the memories behind the need, but it was too ingrained now to lose. Roy struggled off the bed and dropped to his knees in front of Craig. He looked up at him, first in silent supplication, but then he had to ask as Craig continued to frown.

  “Why are you frowning? Wasn’t it good?”

  Craig nodded, a slow smile warming his eyes before it spread to his whole face. “What do you think, man? Do I look dissatisfied?”

  At that instant, before Roy could respond to the questions that had answered his, the telephone jangled. Three o’clock in the morning by the clock on the nightstand. It couldn’t be good news.

  “Shit,” Craig said. He picked it up, though. “Rommel.” Listening, he nodded a time or two, and his face went grim again. “I’ll be there. Give me about five minutes to get into uniform. No, Sam isn’t released for duty yet. I’ll be alone.”

  “Emergency?” Roy hated to ask, but he had to know.

  Craig nodded, already moving around the room to start dressing. “No time to shave and shower,” he muttered. “I hate not to, but it’s too urgent. We’ve got a hostage situation at the county hospital. Somebody seems to have gone berserk. They’re calling in all available personnel. I’ve got to go.”

  For the moment he seemed to forget Roy was even there. Roy scooted out of the way and hunkered on the edge of the bed. When Craig was dressed and had gathered his gear, he stopped. He walked over to where Roy sat and caught his arms, lifting him off the bed.

  “Will you wait here until I get back? We’re not finished yet, and I don’t want you to disappear on me.”

  His hands were tight but gentle, clasping Roy’s upper arms and holding him almost touching close.

  For a moment, Roy couldn’t find his voice. He nodded and finally cleared his throat to speak. “Yeah, if you want me to, I’ll wait. Anything you want me to do, if it’s possible and legal, I’ll do it.”

  Craig leaned down and kissed him. It was gentle this time, a slow savoring of lips to lips. “Thanks.” His voice was soft. “I need something to look forward to. I have a feeling this is not going to be a pleasant situation.”

  “Be careful,” Roy said, as Craig’s hands fell away, leaving him feeling somehow bereft. “I bet you feel incomplete without Sam, so be real careful.”

  Craig nodded again. “Damn straight. I’ve got something to come back for now anyway, and that makes a big difference.” He grinned as he strode to the door. He halted midstride and called back over his shoulder, “There’s a scanner on the fridge in the kitchen if you want to hear what’s going on. It’s set on the regular SPPD frequency, but the emergency channel is marked too.” Then he was gone.

  * * * *

  For a full five minutes after he heard the door close behi
nd Craig, Roy sat on the edge of the bed. Too much had happened too fast. He was still reeling with it. Was it too soon to feel and trust the bond he sensed? Was it just wishful thinking on his part to imagine that he and Craig were going to build something real and lasting?

  Growing chilly, he gathered up the clothes he had removed, and dressed. If he had not promised to stay, he would have gone home then, but he didn’t want to let Craig down. When he gave his word, he stuck to it. Another matter of personal pride. He might have been raised by a man who had no ethics and no scruples, but that didn’t mean he had to behave that way.

  Still it felt strange to be alone in another man’s home, when they were still just past the stage of being strangers. He ambled out to the kitchen. The trash bags lay on the floor where they’d dropped them. He did turn up the scanner, but there wasn’t a lot of traffic. He heard Craig go on the air and then check out at the scene. After that, nothing. He switched to the emergency channel, but even it was quiet. They must be using short-range handhelds or trying to keep a low profile. Not knowing what was happening was nerve racking, though. He’d never paid a lot of attention to cops and their business, but that was about to change—maybe it already had, in fact.

  Roy decided to make himself useful to pass the time. He cleaned up the rest of the litter from the party as best he could. Hadn’t he seen a Dumpster and recycle bins when he had walked around to the back gate? The lights around the complex were bright enough to let him locate them. Once he did, he dragged out three bags and ditched them in the proper containers. When he went back into the kitchen, he heard some noises from Sam’s room. The dog had become restless. He barked a couple of times, not loud, but just an insistent yip.

  Halting outside the door, Roy hesitated. Craig had not given him any instructions concerning Sam. Didn’t the dog normally stay in his crate all night? It seemed like that made sense. Craig had checked to see Sam had water, and Roy knew he’d been fed. What was the matter with him? Using caution, he cracked the door and peeked in. Sam stood in his crate, his hackles raised and his posture reflecting a keen level of tension and attention.

  He knows Craig has gone without him, into danger. The notion flashed across his mind in sudden sureness. He may even sense Craig’s in a bad spot. God, I hope not!

  Roy pushed the door back and stepped into the room. Sam turned and looked straight at him.

  “Hey, it’s okay, boy. I’m here with you. I know you miss your partner, but you’re not all by yourself. We have each other.”

  Sam nudged at the gate, his black nose twitching as he pushed on the latch. He couldn’t quite unfasten it, but Roy could see he was trying.

  “You need to get out of there, maybe go outside? Is that what’s wrong?” Of course the dog could not answer him, at least not in so many words, but his gaze fixed on Roy so intently that Roy almost felt himself mesmerized. He glanced around the room until he located a blue nylon leash hung on a hook just inside the door. Although he didn’t think Sam could climb or jump the six-foot fence around the small backyard, something told him he should net let the dog loose.

  Roy got the leash, clipped it to Sam’s collar, and opened the crate. Sam didn’t push, but he made it clear he wanted to get out of the crate, out of the room and, as they walked together to the back door, out of the house. Roy kept a firm hold on the leash. He expected Sam to go to his corner as he’d seen him do earlier. Maybe he needed to hike his leg, even if he hadn’t had any beer at the party. Instead, Sam headed for the gate.

  “Damn it, Sam, I’m not taking you out of the yard. I bet I’m not even supposed to have you out here. What do you think you’re doing? Come on…you can do your business in here. I know that’s what you do. I saw you this afternoon.”

  Sam all but shook his head. In spite of Roy’s efforts to change his mind, the dog seemed determined to stay right there by the gate until he willed it to open.

  “Damn, Sam, I don’t dare take you out there. Craig would have my ass big time if anything happened to you. I’m prob’ly taking a major chance just to have you out here.”

  Sam wagged his tail, thumping across Roy’s shins with an impact marginally gentler than a heavy hitter’s baseball bat. He reached up and nosed the gate latch, then turned to look back over his shoulder, his eyes full of eloquent pleading. It didn’t take a telepath to see what he wanted. Still, Roy hesitated.

  Can I hang onto him if we go out of the yard? I know he behaves for Craig, and I think he likes me, but does that mean he’ll do what I tell him? Ha, who am I kidding? It’s more like I do what he tells me! In the back of his mind he knew he was going to give in. Sam was so determined and intense about it that telling him no was just about impossible. Roy stepped up beside Sam and flipped the latch. As the gate swung open, Sam surged through it. Roy kept a tight hold on the leash, but didn’t try to stop him.

  Sam went right to the spot where Craig parked, now empty since he’d driven to the police station. The dog hesitated a moment, then looked at Roy’s little Ford, parked two stalls down. After a brief pause, he started toward it.

  “Holy shit, dog. How’d you know that’s my car?”

  Sam stopped with his nose almost touching the left rear door. When Roy didn’t open it at once, he turned and nudged him.

  “You want to go for a ride? Come on, guy, it’s four-oh-dark-thirty in the morning! I’m not sure which one of us is crazier—you wanting to go or me thinking about taking you!”

  He hesitated. I ought to go back and close up the place at least, but I’m not sure I can drag Sam back there. Guess I’ll put him in the car and then go do it. With misgivings twisting inside, he opened the door. Sam didn’t need a gilt-edged invitation to jump in. As an afterthought, Roy hit the lock button before he went back to close the back door, although he didn’t lock it because he’d be unable to get back in. The front door was already locked.

  I’m dumber than dirt. Craig is going to mop up the floor with me when he finds out what I’ve done. Oh, shit. But the self-lecture did no good. He got into the Ford, started it, and then glanced back at Sam. “Okay, bud, where do ya wanna go?”

  Chapter 4

  There really wasn’t any doubt where they were going. Craig had checked out at the country hospital and, lacking any other information, Roy figured he must still be there. He hadn’t come back on the air, at least not by the time Roy and Sam went outdoors. There had hardly been a peep on the scanner to give him any idea about what was going on, but Craig was there. Roy began to think Sam somehow sensed his partner was in trouble and needed help. Sam wasn’t cleared to go back on duty yet, but he didn’t know that and would not care anyway. If Craig needed him, he wanted to be there. Not so odd because Roy felt the same way already.

  The county hospital had once been on the edge of town, and once had been a tuberculosis sanitarium, or so Roy had heard. Now it was at the edge of the barrio district, not the best part of town, and it catered to folks without insurance, undocumented foreigners, those people who could not afford the medical care they urgently needed. There was often trouble at the location, but a hostage situation sounded pretty damn scary. And knowing how Craig felt about his police work, he’d be in the middle of whatever was going down, bad or not.

  Roy drove fast but within the speed limits and with care. He got there in about ten minutes. Sam breathed down his neck the whole way from the back seat, as if he was keeping his eye on the speedometer. “You’re a police dog all right, aren’t you, Sam? Hey, I’m driving safe. Cut me some slack!”

  He pulled in behind a couple of cruisers. They sat empty, but the lights revolved on the roofs in monotonous flashes of red and blue. Then he saw a couple of uniformed officers by the main entrance. When someone approached, they stopped the man. As all three gestured, he could hear raised voices, but couldn’t make out any words. It looked like the cops were not letting anyone inside.

  Sam had his forelegs over the seat back now, since Roy’s car did not have the barrier installed to confine the do
g to the rear like in Craig’s police SUV. The dog’s ears were up stiff and his nose twitched. His tongue slid out and dampened his dark muzzle, then retreated.

  Roy started to get out, then hesitated. “If I get out, I’ll play hell keeping you in the car, won’t I, Sam? But we aren’t doing any good just sitting here. Oh, hell, we’ve come this far. We may as well really fuck up and see if we can find out what’s going on.” He grabbed the trailing leash and wrapped it around his hand before he opened the door. Sam did wait until Roy was out of the car before leaping out, but barely. The big dog started for the door at once, almost jerking Roy’s arm out of the socket.

  “Hey, Sam, heel. Stop. Alto. Halt. Quit!” Of course he didn’t have the German command at the tip of his tongue like Craig did and nothing he said seemed to even begin to put on the brakes. Sam was a dog with a mission, and if Roy was going to be stubborn enough to hang on, too bad. He’d just have to go too. A man at the end of the leash was not going to stop one determined canine.

  The two cops at the door looked up with surprise as Sam came barreling up to them.

  “Hey, that’s Sam, isn’t it?” one said. “Officer Rommel’s dog. Who are you and what are you doing with Sam?”

  “I—I’m a friend of Officer Rommel’s, the guy from the bar where he and Sam got shot. I was at his place when he got called. Sam started to go ballistic, and I figured maybe he sensed something was wrong. I guess maybe it was a dumb thing to do, but we’re here.”

  Sam halted, sniffed both the officers. Roy could see he knew them. Then the dog sat down, staring fixedly at the closed double door. Roy shifted the leash to his other hand and flexed his shoulder. It was going to hurt tomorrow. He’d be willing to bet on it.

  “Do you have any idea where Officer Rommel is? What he’s doing? Do you think he needs Sam? I know the dog isn’t released for duty yet, but he thought he should be here…convinced me of it, in fact.”

  The shorter and younger of the two cops shrugged. “I’m not sure. There hasn’t been much communication the last half-hour or so. I heard some guy didn’t think his wife or kid was getting taken care of right and kind of went loco. He got a couple of nurses at gunpoint and barricaded him and them into a room, making demands. I think Rommel and some of the SWAT guys are trying to talk him out without anybody getting hurt. The sergeant just told us not to let anyone in since we really aren’t clear what’s behind all this. The guy may be trying to get drugs or something and just used the alleged family member as a pretext.”