Nothing Special (Nothing Special 1)

“Fuck,” he hissed.

God grabbed Day’s shoulders and quickly moved him until his back slammed hard into the wall.

“Fuck yeah. That’s it,” Day groaned. He held on tight while God hoisted him up against the wall and attacked his mouth. It wasn’t pretty or gentle. His partner kissed him with a fury that he hadn’t felt in years. It was erotic, carnal, wicked, and Day loved every second. His feet dangled as God’s bulk pushed hard against him, keeping him immobile and under his control.

“This what you want, you sexy fucker?” God snarled in his ear, then leaned in and bit the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

“Ugh, yes! I want you, goddammit,” Day hissed into the darkness.

“Prove it.” God released him and Day dropped back to the ground. He immediately felt the loss of God’s heat and had to resist the urge to claw at the man.

Day palmed his own hard erection.

“Seriously. This isn’t fucking proof enough?” he said while seductively squeezing his cock and licking his lips, now full and plump from their kiss.

“I don’t give a damn about your wood. You get a hard-on when you drink coffee, Leo.” God grabbed his coat and headed to the door. “If you want it, you’ll have to earn it.”

Day stalked over to him. “Did you make all those other bitches you fucked earn it?” Day fumed. Not liking that God was playing a come-and-get-it game with him.

God spun around fast and gripped Day around his throat, pulling him into his rock-hard chest. Day hit that solid wall of muscles with a thud and the air rushed out of his lungs. Day put both his hands on God’s huge forearms that flexed against his touch. God bent his head and a few strands of his hair came loose from the elastic band and brushed against the side of Day’s face.

God looked and smelled so fucking delicious, like masculinity and aftershave. Day knew the grip on his neck was not to hurt him, it was to show him who was in charge. God's sheer strength and power had Day feeling like he could come right there in the small conference room.

“Oh, so you want to be my bitch?” God’s mouth was at the base of his ear. He roughly ground his pelvis into Day’s stomach while the other hand got a firm grip in his hair at the back of his head. “Why didn’t you just say so? You want me to have you face down and ass up in my truck? Then we can go do that right fucking now.”

God loosened his grip on Day’s hair and let the large hand around his throat turn into a gentle caress. He smoothed down Day’s hair and leaned in and took a deep sniff before nuzzling the side of his face. Day couldn’t have stopped his whimper if he’d tried. God dragged two fingers down his throat and gently stroked his collarbone. His breathing was now even and calm, surprisingly relaxing Day as well.

God kissed Day’s temple before speaking in a seductive whisper against the side of his face. “Or do you want me to put on one of your jazz records, lay your sexy body down on your bed, and slowly lick you from head to toe?” God ran a thumb over Day’s parted lips. “I would kiss these soft lips for hours before I let you wrap them around my cock.”

God let loose the sexiest fucking growl he’d ever heard while he oh so slowly massaged Day’s leaking cock, trapped uncomfortably in his jeans.

“Then I’d lie on top of you and bury my dick so deep inside you that you’d feel me for days,” he taunted sexily.

Day felt God’s breath stutter and knew he was enjoying the visual just as much as Day was.

“I’d fuck you slow and deep, Leo, until you came screaming my name.” God released his dick. “So tell me… which do you want?”

Day had to figure out how to speak again before he was finally able to reply. “Yes, Cashel. I want you in my bed.”

“Then prove it.” God laid a lingering, gentle kiss on his forehead before stepping back from him and leaving the conference room.

Good Cop, Very Angry and Scary Cop

God was glad Day wasn’t on his heels when he walked out the door. The way he’d described wanting to fuck his partner had his dick ready to detonate and him practically running to the locker room—which he was hoping would be empty.

He burst through the heavy door and quickly stepped past the assigned lockers, his head scanning the aisles. He pushed through the glass doors and shouldered his way into the last stall. He slammed the metal door shut and leaned his back against it. With his head tilted back, his eyes shut tight; he unbuttoned his jeans with shaking hands, lowered his zipper, and forcefully dug into his briefs, yanking his dick out into the cool air. He tried not to groan but failed miserably.