Slow Burn (MM) (16 page)

Thirty minutes later they were painting away, halfway through a coat of paint and drenched in sweat.

“Why
Mary
?” Brody asked as he worked on the starboard side.

“Huh?”

“Why did you name your boat
Mystic Mary
?”

“Oh. Mystic is for the Van Morrison song, ‘Into the Mystic.’ Song is freaking awesome. Mary is because of Jimmy Hendrix.”

He heard the silence of Brody’s brush. “Of course it is.”

“Hey!”

“No, no—it’s cool. It’s a good name. I like Morrison. And
some
Hendrix. Damn, it’s hot out here.”

“Told ya. Ninety
million
degrees.”

Brody put his brush down and stripped off the old Cooper River Bridge Run T-shirt that Zack had lent him. “You mind?” he asked, referring to him going shirtless.

Zack couldn’t help but cackle. “You did
not
just ask me that. No, I do not mind if you get less dressed in front of me, Brody. Matter of fact, what about with every layer we put on the boat, you take off a layer of clothing. That’s
real
motivation.”

Brody just shook his head and smirked. He leaned over, painting near the bow of the boat, and Zack finally got a good look at what he’d barely touched the other day. The scar. It ran from just below the top of his left shoulder, slightly down and diagonal toward his underarm. It was lighter than the rest of his skin, slightly raised, and probably years old.

“What happened?” he asked, waiting for Brody to lift his gaze. “On your shoulder, I mean.”

“Oh that?” Brody replied without pause or so much as a glance up. “Happened on the job.” He kept right on working, no hint of any details.

“Aaaaand?” Zack prompted, refusing to let the stoic routine work. “I say again, what happened?”

Brody stopped painting and sighed. “A knife happened. The vest we wear under the uniform doesn’t cover but so much and…shit happens.”

Zack waited, but nothing else was forthcoming. He sighed as well, staring at the top of the dark head until Brody finally looked up.

“What?”

Zack raised his eyebrows and waited. “I can stand here like this all day if that’s what it takes, but you’re not going to leave this topic with
shit happens
.”

“Okay, fine.” Brody laid the brush on the upside-down hull. “You won’t want to know the details once you do, but fine. We’re doing the Q-and-A thing. I get it. It was about five or six years ago. I was finishing up as a uni, already took the detective’s exam, and waiting on a position. We get a call about a domestic disturbance. Domestic calls go bat-shit crazy the majority of the time, so we roll up prepared for the worst and that’s exactly what we got.

“Some man yelling his head off inside the house. We get in, and he’s standing there, fucking huge. Like NFL-offensive-line massive, big knife in his hand. Woman at his feet, we presume the wife. She’s bleeding out and there are two kids screaming from the hallway. Father of the year is swinging wide with the knife, right toward the kids. I’ve got my gun drawn, but all I’m thinking is shit, the kids are too close. And I don’t have a clean shot unless I want to hit them. He’s either methed out or cracked out of his skull. We try talking him down. Put the knife down, etcetera. He isn’t hearing any of it. Will, my partner at the time, decides to go Taser. It’s a good call. Except it does next to nothing, because the man is jacked higher than a sky rise. He turns toward me, and I should’ve shot him, but I didn’t trust it, not in that small space with kids a foot or two away. He turns toward the hall again, and his kids were
right there
. So…I jump him. Full weight, I grab him and fall back. We roll. He’s built like a fucking water buffalo, and I’m trying to wrestle him. Badly.

“I feel this sharp pain and heat down my shoulder. I know he’s at least nicked me with the damn knife. Fucker. I manage to get on top of him. Will is there, trying to pin his legs, and I’m yelling for the kids to get back. It’s all we can do to hold him down, and the fucking cuffs won’t even fit him, he’s that damn big. EMS shows up. Our backup.

“It’s chaos.

“Will and backup get the buffalo zip-tied and out the door. I’m worn out, EMS is working on the woman, and the kids are a wreck. I get them together and tell them EMS is going to take care of Mommy. She’ll be okay.

“They finally quit crying because they see Mommy being taken care of, and one of them is like, ‘Hey, mister. You’re bleeding on the carpet.’ I look, and it’s like a river down my arm. Son of a bitch flayed me open from here to here. But…y’know, better me than those kids.

“Anyway, the mom made it. Kids were okay. Fucking miracle. The guy is still doing time for knocking over a convenience store earlier that night. He stabbed the clerk, took a bunch of cash, and ran. Turns out he got home with the money, and the wife starts raising hell, wanting him out and threatening to call the cops.

“So there ya go. That’s my scar story. Want to hear how I blew out my knee and needed ACL surgery?” Brody stood there, having told it all without pausing or even seeming to take a breath.

Zack blinked over at him, his skin prickly and cool. Brody had wrestled with a huge, knife-wielding maniac to save some kids. He told the story like it was just a thing. Like that was what he did all the time. But now, knowing him, knowing stuff like he drank his coffee with creamer too, wore boxer briefs in white only, and listened to Van Morrison—it suddenly meant…more. Brody put himself in danger, real danger. Knife-wielding danger. Every damn day.

“I know how you hurt your knee,” Zack finally managed to say. “It was in the patient file from the department. You were on the Strangler case at the time. Is that why you work even harder to get back? I know you love the job, but also…it’s a big case. Even I’ve heard about it.”

Brody only nodded, the shutters closing in his eyes. He picked the paintbrush back up and painted in silence. Zack knew when a topic hit a nerve and wasn’t supposed to be niggled. He let it go, and they finished the job in comfortable silence.

“I fucking stink,” Zack finally said after what seemed like an eternity. The boat was pretty much done, and they’d both probably lost two pounds to sweating.

“Yeah, you do,” Brody agreed, swiping at his forehead.

Zack popped him with the shirt he’d taken off. Brody was quick, and it only caught the edge of his ass. Which gave Zack so many thoughts.

“You can get cleaned up here, and we’ll go grab something to eat.”

“Are you asking me on a date, or just telling me what we’re doing next?”

“I’m hungry. You can go home and make a ham sandwich if you want, but I want a shower and then a damn pizza the size of this boat. You in, yes or no?”

“Yes. Hell. I’m going.”

“Hey!” Zack called out, making him stop and look back. “I know you aren’t used to…you know, letting people in. Outside of work, I mean. So, thanks. Thanks for sharing. A little.”

Brody narrowed his eyes, and Zack gave him his biggest grin. He was goading him. Guilty. But Brody reacted exactly how he’d hoped.

He grabbed Zack, trying to lock him around the neck but not trying very hard. Zack slid free easily, slick with sweat. Brody shoved him back, smirking. “You’re just asking for an ass kicking, aren’t you?” he asked, a new hint of playfulness in his voice.

“Pretty much.” Zack smiled.

He followed Brody inside, right behind him, watching him go. The borrowed basketball shorts were slightly too small for Brody’s thicker frame. Zack wasn’t complaining. Thin material pulled tightly across an ass like that of a Greco-Roman sculpture was a good look. Sure, he was hungry enough to devour a pizza all by himself, but now there was a different hunger that demanded his complete attention.

Thinking about Brody in his day-to-day work, the discipline it took to get the job done, the sharp mind and keen reflexes—knowing how strong and confident Brody could be—it all made Zack want to climb the man like a damn tree. He’d even gotten to imagine Brody in his patrol uniform. Well aware that he was quickly becoming a huge Brody fan boy, he needed to ease up.

He ought to back off, cool his jets a bit. It’d be wise to remember that his new favorite detective was locked in the closet and hiding behind the racks. No matter how much Zack enjoyed this being something smolderingly hot and most likely mutually exclusive…he was in an entirely different place in his life. He could make this a thing. A real thing. But Brody wasn’t there and may never get to the point where he could be honest with himself, never mind anyone else.

It’d taken Zack years to get back here, to recover from Marcus. He couldn’t torch it all now. This…thing they were doing, him and Brody, it was flaming hot and…fuck, he could get used to having a man like him around. In his life.

But that wasn’t what this was. He
should
end it soon. Wise up and think survival. No more Brody. Cold turkey. But he knew he wasn’t going to.

Brody turned to him, Zack’s gaze catching the scar from the knife wound. He took in the sight of Brody sliding off the borrowed shorts, a quick smirk before walking into Zack’s bathroom butt-ass naked.

No. No way could he go cold turkey off Brody. Not yet anyway.

He gave Brody all of about two minutes to get the shower hot and ready, and then he walked into the steam-filled room and stripped down as well.

Brody didn’t say a word as Zack opened the shower door and stepped inside with him.

“Good thing I remodeled and made it roomy, huh?” he asked.

Still, Brody said nothing. Only moved over a bit to share the spray of hot water. His eyes were somehow different. Darker again from remembering the past. Zack could only imagine all that Brody had seen, and half of it he didn’t want to.

Instead he grabbed the bottle of shampoo and did one thing he knew he could. He gave Brody his undivided attention and the same comfort he’d been given the night before. Silently, Brody lowered his head and allowed Zack to work his fingers through the short, thick hair. He massaged, at first gently, then with increasing pressure, seeing the slump in Brody’s shoulders as he relaxed.

They smelled like sunshine, sweat, and salt air. Slowly it gave way to something fruity and whatever the hell else was in his shampoo, but the warm smell of sun remained.

He tilted Brody’s head back and stepped in, urging him back under the rush of water. He rinsed the suds from his hair and then grabbed the soap to lather up his broad chest. As Brody moved to help, Zack slapped his hand out of the way but didn’t say anything. He’d be damned if Brody was going to deny him the joy of spreading his attention all over that chest.

There was just a rumble of humor and approval from Brody, as if he knew what Zack was thinking. It wasn’t until he was satisfied with his work that he lowered his mouth to Brody’s and kissed him, long and slow. Slipping his tongue inside, he tasted, explored. He took his time, wanting to remember everything about Brody’s kiss, his taste. Burn it onto his brain.

He kissed Brody until he drew a soul-deep sigh and shudder from him. The stiff length of Brody’s cock brushed against his, and Zack kissed him harder. He turned and positioned them so the backs of Brody’s knees hit the small seat built into the shower. Zack slipped a hand down and ran it once, twice, along the length of Brody’s cock before bringing them together, using his own erection to rub against him.

Brody’s breathing paused, held before he took another quick inhale.

“
Zack
,” he barely whispered. “Damn, you feel good.” He leaned one hand on the side of the shower and let his head fall back. He looked like…like in that moment he’d let Zack do whatever the hell he wanted.

Which was good, because there was so much Zack wanted to do…

The suds slicked, foaming up as Zack stroked them together, his hand providing a tight grip to thrust into as their cocks slid next to each.

Brody drew in a shaky breath, letting his head rest back again the tiles. What he was doing? Nowhere
near
enough to get them off. But it felt good.

He urged Brody to sit and allowed himself the moment to take in the sight before him. Brody. Wet, naked, and hard in his shower. He was never going to look at that seat again and not see Brody’s form sprawled on it. He was so gorgeous, Zack would maybe even consider leaving it as shrine to the perfection of his ass. The long column of Brody’s neck was exposed, eyes closed, mouth open. Broad shoulders and chest flushed red from the heat and arousal, strong thighs spread, cock heavy and hot in Zack’s hand.

A cock that he really wanted in his mouth.

Zack watched the changes in Brody’s face as he circled a thumb over the reddened head. Watched as his breathing sped up with each pulse of his cock in Zack’s hand, his eyes opening and locking on to Zack’s. Gray, focused, and deep with want.

Damn.

Zack leaned in and took Brody’s mouth quickly before letting him go and reaching out to get a towel. He folded it and dropped it to the floor. Zack knelt down on the wet fabric, resting his arms on Brody’s thighs.

Brody let out a loud groan as Zack took him into his mouth, hands flying into Zack’s wet hair as he swallowed him in deep, sucking hard. Clean and fresh from the shower, leaving a taste of pure Brody on his tongue. It was addictive.

Zack got into a rhythm, hands rubbing Brody’s thighs. He wasn’t into speeding things up as long as his legs held, but definitely into making Brody fall apart. Zack cupped and stroked Brody’s balls. The soft, delicate skin in his hand made him want to taste more. He pulled back to suck at the tip before letting Brody’s dick twitch from his mouth. His hand replaced his mouth, continuing to stroke, firm and slow, as Zack bent to lick at his sac, gently sucking each ball into his mouth. He was rewarded with Brody swearing tightly, ass shifting about, trying to lift his hips into the strokes from his place on the seat.

With his free hand, he gently lifted Brody’s balls and swept his tongue against the sensitive place behind them. Brody’s sitting position made it awkward, but Zack could skim the area. With each brush, Brody thrust up into his hand. Zack strained his tongue, placing pressure against the area, but it wasn’t quite enough. Brody must have also gotten frustrated with the lack of access, because he shifted, lifting his thigh, opening up to Zack. The move itself sent a surge of lust to Zack’s dick, and he groaned against Brody’s heated skin, using his tongue to lick and press.