Double Indemnity (19 page)

“So,” Nathan said after he swallowed. “You think I'm evasive. I'm not trying to be. Ask me whatever you want, and as long as it doesn't relate to something confidential, I'll answer.”

“The training you went through before your last case. Tell me about it.”

Nathan's evident surprise quickly faded. He leaned forward, focusing his dark eyes on Sam. “What do you want to know?”

“Who trained you?”

“I spent three weeks at the home of a professional dominatrix in California. A crash course, if you will, so I would know what to expect at the club.”

“So… you were like, tied up and stuff? Whips and chains?” Sam knew very little about actual BDSM, but the idea of Nathan being trussed up by a woman was strangely arousing.

“Sometimes. Most people in the community identify as a Dominant or submissive, and I had to learn both roles. There are some who switch.”

“What else?”

Nathan wiped his hands on his napkin and tossed it on the table. He seemed to be choosing his words with care. “Kinks like breath control, edge play, spanking. What to do for aftercare. I hadn't heard of half the stuff Ryan taught me. It was eye-opening, to say the least.”

Sam's dick was hard as a rock. He shifted in his seat.

“Did you have sex with her?”

“No. It wasn't like that. It was actually much more like being at school than you'd think. All very professional—and tiring. Ryan thinks of it as her mission to discover the true desires of her clients. She made me comfortable and taught me about how normal so-called deviant desires are, and how average people enjoy them. It was important for me to know, working on this particular case. Most people at the club were engaging in completely consensual and legal sex and had no idea about the horrible things going on.”

“What about you?” Sam took another sip of beer to wet his throat. “Did she discover your true desires?”

Nathan's gaze grew hot. “I found I fit more comfortably into the dominant role.”

Neither of them spoke, and the moment seemed to drag on forever. Sam bit his lip.

“So, is that what you wanted to know?” Nathan asked. His eyes had darkened to black, and he rubbed his leg against Sam's under the table.

“You said being at the club was like an addiction. That you hated it and loved it at the same time.”

“I don't know how to describe it. There was the guilt, of course, and the anonymity of it. I don't think I'd ever been so free… or so trapped. If that makes any sense.” The rubbing stopped, but Nathan didn't move his leg away.

Sam hesitated before asking the next question. His blood pounded in his ears. “Were you safe?”

“Of course. And I've been tested since.”

Sam figured he could be making the stupidest mistake ever, but his hand moved anyway. He squeezed Nathan's thigh above the juncture of his knee.

“Thank you for telling me.”

“Like I said, you're easy to talk to.”

Nathan grabbed his hand. Sam could see the war waging behind his dark irises. Electricity buzzed between them, making Sam's cock throb in his jeans. “Do you want to go back to my apartment?” he asked, already fumbling for his wallet.

“Fuck, yes.”

The frigid air that greeted them outside did little to alleviate the tension. Sam couldn't help thinking it was like balancing on a tightrope, and one false move would precipitate disaster. Nathan walked quickly, and Sam kept pace, their arms brushing together every so often.

Once inside and face-to-face, with the door shut behind them and their winter coats discarded, Nathan rubbed Sam's shoulders like he wasn't sure where to settle his hands, even as their bodies aligned in all the right ways. A hint of worry in his eyes contradicted the intimate position.

When the kiss finally happened, Sam wasn't sure who'd made the first move. Nathan's lips on his were tentative at first, searching. Sam wanted more and was afraid something would happen to end it before it even began. He needed to know Nathan wanted him just as much.

Sam hooked his fingers into the belt loops at Nathan's waist and pulled him closer to deepen the kiss. Nathan let out a soft grunt of approval and responded by wrapping his arms more tightly around Sam's back and sliding one hand through Sam's hair to guide his head. Their mouths slotted together and opened, and the first probing stroke of Nathan's tongue lit a fire at the base of Sam's spine. Nathan kissed with his whole body, insistent and possessive, and Sam's brain short-circuited. A fire in the building couldn't have torn him away. All reticence gone, Sam rubbed his cock against Nathan's, and the answering erection provided all the evidence he needed. The relief almost made him laugh.

Before Sam knew it, he was seated astride Nathan on the couch, grinding down on him as they kissed. Nathan rubbed his smoothly shaven face against Sam's stubbly chin and then sucked and licked his way down Sam's neck to his collarbone. Sam closed his eyes to enjoy the urgency of Nathan's hot mouth on his neck, the strong hands on his ass. He remembered the night Nathan questioned him, the sly sensuality of his method, and he wanted Nathan to throw him down and fuck him with the same determination.

Far too many clothes impeded their movements. The high probability that this was a one-shot deal made Sam want to put the brakes on and savor while he could, but ultimately he was too impatient for foreplay.

“Bed?” he offered. Nathan stilled a moment before nodding. He rested his hands on Sam's thighs and squeezed.

The way Nathan followed him closely, pressing his body into Sam's from behind as they walked, gave Sam a secret thrill. His bedroom was dark, but he flipped on a light. He was grateful he'd been more conscientious of his messes lately. Nathan kissed the back of his neck and ran his hands under the front of Sam's shirt, urging it up and over his head. Sam tossed it to the side, turned around to help Nathan with his own, and fumbled with the tiny buttons.

Undressed, Nathan's body was familiar and unfamiliar. His lean swimmer's build had been the object of Sam's appreciation on many occasions, but now that he was fully naked, Sam realized what he'd been missing. His cock was long and thick and best of all, uncut. It stood proudly out from his body, the swollen glans pushing back the ring of foreskin. A bead of precome clung to the slit—evidence of long-standing arousal—and Sam dropped to his knees to take it into his mouth. He wondered how many people had done this to Nathan before, and he wanted to make it good. He wanted to be the best.

Nathan tasted musky and sweet. The smell of his arousal mingled with the soap of his shower. His thighs clenched as Sam worked him over. Sam stared up through his lashes in the way he knew drove most men wild. He made the shaft wet, tickling the sensitive underside with his tongue, and then licked the taut frenulum and pressed down into the slit. He paid equal attention to the pendulous balls between Nathan's thighs, nosing the tightened sack and sucking first one, then the other, into his mouth. The rasp of hair over his tongue contrasted with the firm, wrinkly skin. Nathan obviously loved it. He grunted in protest when Sam abandoned his sack—but then moaned when Sam teased the tip of his cock with his open lips and let the head slip inside his mouth. Nathan twisted his fingers in Sam's hair, tugging gently. In response, Sam nudged Nathan's foreskin back with his tongue.

Once Nathan was gasping, Sam took pity on him and let the whole length inside. He did his best to control his gag reflex and allow Nathan to control his thrusts. His eyes blurred as the shaft hit the back of his throat, but he kept them open and watched Nathan watching him. The intense pressure of his gaze and the forceful slide of his cock made Sam's painfully hard dick throb, still confined in his jeans. He palmed himself to relieve the pressure, but the ache only increased. It didn't matter, though, not when Nathan was petting him, fucking his throat, and telling him how good it was—how good he was.

All too soon, though, Nathan pulled out, leaving Sam on his knees. He was vaguely aware of a sound like a whimper, and realized, embarrassed, it had come from him. The cock he'd been sucking bobbed—angry, red, and wet—mere inches away.

“I want to see you,” Nathan said, drawing him up to his feet. Sam swayed for a moment as he regained his balance. The crouched position had left his legs asleep. He shook them to get the blood circulating as he kicked off his jeans and boxer briefs.

Nathan ran his hands over Sam's chest and pulled him toward the bed. The question in his eyes made Sam remember Nathan was relatively new to gay sex and that he was used to being in charge. He didn't know how much of a Dom Nathan was, or whether he expected Sam to be submissive. An unnamable excitement shivered through him at the idea.

Of course, that brought back the fear that Nathan had spent the last couple of weeks in the company of other men and women. Sam tried to push the thought out of his mind. After all, back at the bar, Nathan had said he'd been tested since his undercover work at the club, and there was no reason to think all of his cases required sex. He'd never been the jealous type and wasn't about to start now.

“Hey,” Nathan said, bringing his hand to Sam's face. “Where'd you go?”

“Sorry. I'm here. I was only thinking.”

“Should I get ready to put my pants back on?”

“Absolutely not.” Sam kissed Nathan again, this time controlling the action, getting his semi back up to full mast. He let Nathan roll them over so Nathan was on top, and they finally made full contact. Skin to skin was always great, but this time it felt like electric wiring connected them in all the right places. Nathan's chest hair rasped against his, and Sam grabbed two handfuls of his firm, flexing ass. A few more minutes of this and Sam was going to blow his load, but the friction wasn't quite right. He reached for the slick he kept in his bedside table and Nathan got the message—he squeezed lube onto his hand and coated both of their cocks with it.

“Why don't you tell me what you were thinking about?”

“I don't think you want to know.” Besides, with Nathan's fist wrapped around their cocks, jerking them together, who had time for talking?

“I do. And I know already. You were thinking about what I told you about the sex club. You were wondering if I wanted to do those things with you.”

“Not bad, detective.” He didn't mention his jealousy or his worry Nathan hadn't been completely honest about his work.

“God, you're gorgeous. What do you want?”

“I, ah—” Sam's eyes rolled back in his head as Nathan squeezed the tip of his cock. It was the most excruciatingly slow hand job of his life. “I don't know….”

“You can do better than that.”

“I want you to make me come.”

“Oh, I will.” Nathan's hot mouth on his nipple made Sam cry out. Nathan grazed it lightly with his teeth and then gave Sam a wet and filthy kiss. “How am I supposed to resist you when you look at me like that?”

Again, the pace slowed. Sam forced himself to keep his eyes
open. Nathan was enjoying this. His dark eyes glittered with
excitement.

“It was this, wasn't it? Having someone under your control. That's what you want.” Sam almost gasped the words.

Nathan didn't answer. He rubbed his thumb in maddening circles over Sam's slit.

“And that's what you liked, what you got addicted to.” It was more of a statement than a question. Nathan didn't seem to disapprove, though. He kept his pace steady. Sam felt the orgasm begin to build deep in his belly. “Is that where you've been the last couple of weeks?”

Nathan's hand stilled, leaving Sam on the precipice. His balls ached with the need to come. “I shouldn't have asked. What you do for work is your own business.”

“No,” Nathan's voice was calm, betraying nothing. “It's all right. You worried about me sleeping with other people? Were you jealous, Sam?”

“Fuck.” Sam tried, and failed, to keep his hips from moving. His grip on Nathan tightened. It began again, the slow teasing. Precome made his cock even more slick. Sam's balls drew up, and he bit his lip to hold back a groan. He was sure if Nathan stopped again he'd lose his mind.

Nathan's breathing had become labored, though, and Sam could tell his will was faltering. “I shouldn't like that you were jealous, but I do. God help me.” He kissed Sam again, hard, and his stroke quickened purposefully, hurtling them both toward climax. It broke over Sam first, shattering him from the inside out. His stomach clenched as he shot, hot and wet, over Nathan's fist and their stomachs. Nathan let out a quiet moan and followed soon after, still working them together even as Sam's cock softened and grew sensitive.

Nathan flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Their arms were still loosely entwined, and Sam hesitated before getting up to grab a towel from the bathroom. He handed it to Nathan and then remembered how unpleasant it was to wipe off with a towel covered in someone else's cold come. Nathan didn't seem to mind, though. He wiped himself efficiently and tossed the towel over the side of the bed.

Now would come the awkward post-orgasm parting—the real reason Sam made it a point never to invite someone over to his apartment in the first place.

Instead of making a move, though, Nathan drew the blanket up and over his waist. He seemed intent on trading awkward leaving for awkward… cuddling? When Sam didn't get back in bed right away, Nathan sat back up. “Do you want me to go?”

“No,” Sam admitted. “I just hadn't planned for this.”

Nathan gave him a wry smile. “Neither had I. But the thought of going back to my house doesn't sound appealing.”

Of course. His first Thanksgiving without Emma.

“Haven't you found an apartment yet?”

“I've looked at a couple, but neither felt right. I'm not sure what I want, actually. I don't want to be there anymore, but I can't quite… let it go.”