Cut and run, p.26

Cut & Run, page 26

 part  #1 of  Cut & Run Series

 

Cut & Run
 



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Page 26

 

  And it went on and on, both of them struggling for breaths as they strained against each other.

  “Ty…,” Zane finally managed hoarsely as he felt his body tighten in warning. But Ty couldn’t answer, his breath coming in gasps and each thrust forcing a groan out of him as he took the pounding.

  Zane gave a hissed curse as he went over the edge, hips losing rhythm and jerking erratically as the heat and press of Ty’s body dragged the climax out of him.

  Ty moaned long and loud as Zane rode out his orgasm. He tightened every muscle in his already tense body and fisted his hands in the sheets, toes curling involuntarily in sympathy of the pleasure. Zane cried out—a tortured rasp, really—as he was caught by the pressure. The heat washed through him and he shivered, drawing a shaky breath before pulling out and heaving himself up on his knees. Ty remained where he was, face pressed into the mattress and eyes closed as his shoulders shook almost imperceptibly.

  Zane shifted to sit heavily at the other man’s side. “Ty,” he breathed, looking at him, seeing him tremble. He leaned onto his side, tucked his head under Ty’s chin and kissed him. “Let me,” he whispered against Ty’s lips, one hand burrowing under him to reach the straining erection trapped against the bed.

  Ty groaned and lifted up, then immediately pushed his hips against Zane’s hand as he kissed him hungrily. Zane curled his fingers around Ty’s cock and tightened his fist as his mouth gave way to Ty’s demand. His sore wrist ached with the motion, but he didn’t give a damn just then. Ty jerked into his hand and gave a muffled moan. He raised his arm to pin Zane under him like a large dog would do to capture a cat, and he rocked against him, never breaking the kiss. Several more slow thrusts, and the tight coil of pleasure in Ty’s groin snapped. His fingers tightened in Zane’s short hair and he groaned plaintively as he came in Zane’s hand.

  Zane sighed against Ty’s lips as he relaxed; the heated slick of Ty’s come dripping over his fingers assured him of Ty’s pleasure taken. His back stung, his wrist ached, and his bruised fingers hurt like hell, adding a bit of an edge to the overwhelming satiation that threatened to send him to sleep right then and there.

  Ty nearly collapsed against him, just barely managing the energy to flop to the side instead of just down on top of him. “Fuck,” he offered weakly, eyes closing as he rolled to his back.

  “Yeah,” Zane agreed. His eyes were blurring, so he just closed them.

  “We shoulda done that in your bed,” Ty finally grumbled.

  “Priss,” Zane murmured sleepily.

  “Hmph,” Ty responded without moving.

  “I’m cold,” Zane strung together, voice thick.

  “Like I care,” Ty grunted softly as he finally forced himself to move.

  He rolled off the edge of the bed and thumped loudly to the floor, then stood and slid liquidly under the covers all in one graceful motion.

  Zane grumbled and turned to his hands and knees, backing off the side of the bed and standing up. He disposed of the used condom and cleaned up with one of the dirty towels in the corner. He ran both hands over his face and through his hair, and then looked down at Ty.

  “What?” Ty questioned as he burrowed under the covers.

  “I want to sleep here with you,” Zane admitted petulantly.

  “What’s stopping you?” Ty challenged with a small smirk, curious as to what Zane would do.

  Well, he’d been afraid Ty would stop him. Zane pulled the sheets down on the side to Ty’s left and slid into the warm cotton, his legs stretching out easily. He pulled the pillow under his head and rolled to his side, facing Ty. He opened his mouth to say “thank you” or “good night” or “please touch me again,” but instead there was nothing.

  Ty lay there looking at him expressionlessly. Finally, his hand slid under the covers and onto Zane’s hip, pulling him closer as he gently caressed the skin of his hip and waist. He scooted closer, until finally he had his arm draped around Zane and his other arm under Zane’s neck to support his head.

  He wedged his face between Zane’s and the pillow. “This in no way means I don’t still hate you,” he muttered as he nuzzled his nose and mouth against Zane’s temple and closed his eyes.

  Zane smiled, his lower arm shifted so he could place his palm over Ty’s beating heart, and his top arm curled over his waist. He drifted to sleep, feeling amazingly comfortable, listening to Ty’s steady breathing.

  slim woman in uniform with her dark hair pulled back into a severe bun stopped next to Detective Steve Pierce’s desk. “Got some Amessages for you, Detective,” she said, holding out a few pink pieces of paper.

  Pierce glanced up. “Thanks, Branson. I’m putting in another work order on that voice mail,” he promised her.

  “Sure thing, sir. It’s no problem, unless we’re booking,” she answered before taking herself back to the front counter across the large squad room.

  Detective Steve Holleman glanced up at his partner from across their connected desks and raised an eyebrow at him. Pierce leaned back in the creaky chair and flipped through the pink slips. He scowled at one in particular and stared at it hatefully.

  “Care to share?” Holleman finally prodded.

  “Goddamn Feebs again,” Pierce muttered, tossing the pink slips on his desk. “About the serial. ”

  “What else is new?” Holleman muttered as he went back to the report he was filling out.

  “It’s from that Henninger guy. There’s a new team here,” Pierce said, picking up his coffee with one hand and spinning his computer mouse with the other to wake up the monitor.

  “Well, yeah,” Holleman huffed as if that should be obvious. “The last ones got themselves killed. ”

  Pierce slanted a displeased look at his partner, but didn’t tell him off.

  “I still think they need to check their own house. ”

  “Tell them that. Shit, one of those guys almost went nuclear when one of the uniforms mentioned that at the last crime scene. ”

  “Yeah, I know. We’d probably react the same way, though. I just hate that they can march in and do whatever the hell they want. That’s why this 156

  thing hasn’t been solved yet. Too many fingers in the pot, screwing with the soup. ”

  Holleman plunked his pen down and looked up at his partner with a frown. “You’re not starting with the food analogies again, are you?” he asked flatly.

  Pierce rolled his eyes. “They got too many people dealing with the details, fucking up the evidence, and then they wonder why the case is so screwed. Then, of course, they call us and expect us to snap to. I’m thinking this time, they can wait. ”

  “Yeah, that won’t piss them off,” Holleman muttered as he picked up his pen again. “Whatever. I’ve got too much shit to do as it is. ”

  “I’ll call them tomorrow morning. You got that paperwork from Trenton?”

  “Somewhere,” Holleman answered distractedly. “You got that statement from the chick who didn’t like buttoning her shirt?” he asked as he looked back up.

  “Yeah, in that stack,” Pierce pointed to the corner of his desk.

  “Singleton put a photo in there, too, of course. ”

  Holleman rifled through the stack until he found the folder. He plucked it out of the stack and looked at it with a smirk. Turning it around to show Pierce, he laughed softly and said, “Think we got any of her face?”

  Pierce glanced over and did a double take. “Aw, shit. Singleton’s gonna get his ass in a sling. ” He rubbed his hands over his eyes. “The cases keep getting weirder, and then that damn serial pops up again. ” He sighed and looked up to gaze across the two desks at his partner.

  Holleman’s tongue was hanging out of his mouth again, stuck to the side like it always did when he was deep in thought. “Wanna go get food?” he finally asked after pondering the universe for a time.

  It took a moment for Pierc
e to blink himself out of his stare. “Ah, yeah. Sure. I could use more coffee. ”

  “Then we can call back those clowns and get it over with,” Holleman muttered as he stood and pushed away from the desk.

  Pierce followed Holleman out of the office, grumbling to himself disconsolately the whole way.

  TY slid carefully out of the bed and padded around the room, cleaning up and getting dressed almost silently. He risked a few glances at his bedmate and his frown deepened every time he did so. What the hell had they been thinking?

  They hadn’t stopped with just one try. Hours after falling asleep in each other’s arms, they had awakened again and gone at it without any thought to the consequences. Ty had taken his turn, giving as good as he’d gotten from Zane. At least they’d both be sore as hell today.

  Ty shook his head and went to the window, glancing out at the light rain. His entire body ached, and not altogether in good ways. He frowned even harder as he stood there, waiting for Zane to wake.

  The bed growing cool pushed Zane from his sleep and he slowly shifted under the sheet. He made a soft sound deep in his throat when he rolled carefully onto his back. It wasn’t just his back that hurt. He opened his eyes to focus on the ceiling before turning his eyes to the other bed. Empty.

  He turned his chin and saw Ty standing at the window. He looked tired and tense. Zane stifled a sigh. He knew he should have expected something like that.

  Ty glanced over his shoulder when he heard the rustling and he cleared his throat. “Hey,” he offered lamely.

  Zane raised his uninjured hand to rub at his eyes. “What time is it?

  How long did we sleep?”

  “It’s nine-thirty,” Ty answered without glancing at his watch or the clock. He looked away from Zane and back out the window. “How you feelin’?” he asked as he stared at the rain coming down.

  “Groggy,” Zane said, his voice still thick and warm from sleep. He ran his hand over his hair and yawned, considering turning over and going back to sleep.

  Ty lowered his head and considered the pros and cons of admitting how fucking sore he was. Everywhere. It might go to easing some of the awkwardness anyway. “My ass hurts,” he finally admitted with a small, wry smile.

  Zane reopened his eyes to look at the other man. He had no idea how to respond to that, so he just looked at him. Ty shrugged lopsidedly when Zane didn’t respond. The cell phone at his hip began to sing, saving him from having to say anything further. He answered it with a clipped murmur after looking at the number.

  Once Ty was distracted, Zane let his eyes slide down the wiry, half-clothed body. Ty’s ass hurt. Zane’s lips twitched. Not a good idea to laugh, he was sure. But damn . . . what a boost to the ego. He pushed away the sheet and got out of the bed.

  He lifted his arms slowly and started to lengthen his body in a long stretch. He bobbed his head from side to side, and bones popped. He relished the stretch for a moment before heading over to his duffel and digging for clothes.

  Ty watched him, listening distractedly to the man on the phone as he did so. He realized with some annoyance that he was pondering the advantages of jumping his partner again. Finally, he looked away and shook his head. When he spoke into the phone after a long time of just listening, it wasn’t in English.

  Zane glanced over when the lyrical language poured out in Ty’s raspy voice. He didn’t know which language it was, but something Middle Eastern; it had that sound. Maybe Farsi. Much more melodic than Zane’s own rapid-fire Spanish. The sound of it didn’t seem to fit Ty’s voice—or him—at all.

  The conversation didn’t last long, and Ty bid the man farewell softly before ending the call and clipping the phone back onto his belt. He turned around and looked at Zane thoughtfully. “You feel up to a little trekking today?” he asked, not even pretending to try and explain who had been on the phone.

  “Sure,” Zane answered, shrugging off any curiosity. “Moving around will keep my back from getting too stiff. ” Before he thought better of it, Zane glanced to Ty, then down to Ty’s ass, then back up to Ty’s eyes. Ty raised an eyebrow and sneered at him. Zane bit back the smile and picked up his clothes. “What do you have in mind?” he asked as he walked toward the bathroom.

  “I want to go see a body dump,” Ty called in answer, telling himself to let it go. He had offered the information, after all. He knew he risked a little razzing for it. Perhaps he had been looking for a sincere response, something to build up a little trust, instead of what he had gotten. Oh, well.

  “Are you going to call Morrison or Henninger to set it up? Or are we still steering clear of the office for now?” Zane got into the bathroom and couldn’t hold back the grin any longer. Then he shook his head and started cleaning himself up to go.

  “None of them are still cordoned off, so we can just go. I just need to see them,” Ty answered as he turned back to the window and frowned at his watery reflection.

  Zane stepped around the corner and watched Ty for a long moment.

  When he spoke, his voice was lower and quieter. More serious. “Crunching profiles?”

  Ty cocked his head to the side and cracked his neck with a grimace.

  “Yeah,” he admitted. “I just need to see why he left them where he did. ”

  Considering that response, Zane looked up at the photos tacked on the wall. He hadn’t thought about why the bodies were left as they were. “Well, get moving, Marine. We’ve got work to do. ” His voice was still quiet, despite the words.

  Ty turned around and huffed at him again. “It’s raining,” he informed the man as he picked up the T-shirt he had pulled out to wear. It was a white camp-style T-shirt with a brown teepee on the front, surrounded by the words
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