Furi hissed, grinding their hard cocks perfectly against each other. Furi licked around his mouth, his sweet lips just lightly brushing against Syn's. Furi peppered feather soft kisses across his stubble.
“It’s midnight now. You said I could take you home.”
Furi backed away from him, running his hands through his own hair. “Alright, you can ask your official questions during the ride.”
Syn was on the highway headed to Emory Point. The windows were cracked to let in some brisk night air. Syn watched out of the corner of his eye as Furi pulled his hair back into a loose ponytail.
“Ask away,” Furi said, realizing they were almost to his exit.
“Are you in trouble?”
Furi turned; looking sharply at Syn. Furi probably wasn’t expecting that to be his first question, but that was the most important issue as far as Syn was concerned. He knew Furi wasn't involved in Starman’s murder, so he didn’t need to ask about that.
“Before I left the pub tonight, you asked me if someone had sent me and if I was working for him. Were you talking about your husband?”
“Yes,” Furi said roughly. “He hasn’t seen or heard from me in almost a year. He might’ve thought I was dead.” He shrugged. “I finally had him served with divorce papers, which means he now knows my address. He and his brother will come for me, guaranteed. Even if it’s only to serve up one more ass whipping before he signs the papers.”
Syn heard the squeaking sound his steering wheel was making as he tightened his fists and squeezed the leather. He was getting angry, angrier than he’d been in a long time. The thought of someone harming the man beside him; touching even one lock of gorgeous hair on his head made Syn want to shoot something. He took a deep breath and tried to follow the directions Furi was giving him. He pulled up to a small house on the corner in a quiet neighborhood.
“This is your house?” Syn asked.
“Um. No, I rent the small basement apartment. It’s clean and safe,” Furi said quietly.
Syn discreetly looked around the street. He didn’t want to scare Furi, but Syn was at defcon 3 now that he knew some bastard might want to hurt his man. My man. Putting the cart before the horse again. He didn’t want to push Furi, didn’t want to make him feel inferior or weak, but the urge to protect was there, and it was powerful. Furi was strong, he’d experienced the man’s force a couple times, but everyone needed help sometimes. Syn was just the man to help. That’s what he was good at, damn good at.
Syn cleared his throat. He wanted to ask but was hesitant to. He didn’t want to be rebuffed. Furi was excellent at that. Syn had to try anyway. “Can I come in?” Syn asked, sounding a little more nervous than he wanted to.
Furi looked away from the street at Syn. “Why?”
“I just want to talk.”
“Just talk?”
“Yes.” Syn crooked up one side of his mouth.
“My place is it’s um, small. I don’t have much furniture.” Furi ran his hand through his hair, pulling on the ends. Syn was realizing that’s what Furi did when he was nervous or upset.
“I’m not concerned with interior design right now, Furious,” Syn told him honestly.
Furi snorted, “Okay.” He got out of the truck and Syn followed him around to the back of the house. Syn glanced behind him as Furi dug for his keys. He heard a noise in the neighboring yard and instinctively moved in close to Furi’s back, acting as a shield.
“It’s okay, detective. That’s Mr. Wiggins letting his cat in.”
Furi opened the door and flicked on a light switch. Syn stepped in and made a quick survey of his surroundings. The two-room apartment contained minimal furniture. A full-sized bed was neatly made against the far wall. The kitchen, if you can call a mini fridge, microwave and a two-burner stove a kitchen, was right in front of them. Syn saw a single pane window right behind a small television. It didn’t look very secure. “Is there another door or any other exits?”
Furi snapped at him. “I don’t need your protection or for you to map out an escape route for–”
“Answer my question!” Syn barked, cutting off Furi’s rant. He grabbed Furi’s arm and pulled him to his chest. “You told me that your ex-husband will eventually come to hurt you, and you think I’m not going to do something about it? Well, sorry, you told the wrong guy. Yes, I’m a cop. I also want to be more than that to you, so that basically earns you double protection. Get the fuck over it.”
Syn took a deep breath and rubbed Furi’s arm, trying to ease the sting of his words. “I’m sorry. Someone hurting you doesn’t sit well with me.”