by Carla Jane
It occurred to Victor that the errand might have something to do
with his blooming relationship with Li Ann Tsei, one of the new
employees within 'The Agency'. The Director didn't appear to be a
big fan of field agents pairing up exclusively. Victor frowned at
that thought. Considering their boss practically controlled their
every waking moment, Victor couldn't imagine how he could find
someone outside of work to build a relationship with. The life of a
secret agent was nothing at all like the James Bond movies he had
enjoyed in his youth. Instead it was confusing, frustrating, and
indescribably isolating.
The phone on the desk beside Victor rang, dragging him back to the
here and now. The papers that Chicago PD needed his signature on
were still sitting in front of him.
"Scuse." Someone sat on the other side of the battered desk and
grabbed the jangling telephone. "Kowalski." He barked into the
receiver.
That was the name on the storage box Victor had shoved to one side
so he would have room to set the forms on the desktop. This guy must
be on his way out the door. His reasons were surely better than
Victor's when his term at the Vancouver police department had come
to a screaming halt.
Victor wasn't even sure what had happened to the contents of both
his locker and desk after the frame-up that had sent him to prison.
He had gone from being held without bail straight into maximum
security. The legal system didn't want to take chances with someone
they thought was a dirty cop.
When the Director had plucked him out of prison and recruited him
into the Agency, he'd been pleased to discover that the woman had
somehow recovered most of his regular possessions and stocked an
entire apartment for him but a great many small things had gotten
lost along the way.
When his world had first fallen apart, Victor hadn't given much
thought to his belongings. He'd asked his mother to take care of his
things on one of the two occasions she had demeaned herself by
visiting him behind bars. His Mother had nodded absent-mindedly and
had then drifted to talking about the troubles she was having with
his little sister. Victor hadn't been sure she would do anything
beyond calling one of her charities to come and haul it all away.
"I don't need this! Not today." The Chicago cop complained loudly
into the telephone.
Victor toyed with his pen and attempted not to eavesdrop on the
conversation, or at least to look like he wasn't eavesdropping, on
the cop.
The police officer was practically growling. "Yeah, fine. Whatever.
I'll come in t'morrow." He slammed the handset down without a
departing courtesy. "Slimy bastard." A hand swiped back through
blondish brown hair making it stick up in all directions. Pale blue
eyes noticed Victor's gaze. "Divorce lawyer." He said
self-consciously, as if that explained everything, and in some ways
it did.
Victor offered up a sympathetic wince. "Lots of changes for you, I
suppose." He inclined his head towards the box of belongings. "You
leaving the force." The idea that someone would give up this job
willingly baffled the ex-cop.
That question earned him a bark of laughter. "Not fucking likely.
I'm just transferring. You my replacement?" the Chicago officer
countered, examining the seated man with a frown. It was hard
realising that he wasn't going to be at this desk on Monday. Stanley
Raymond Kowalski wasn't even going to exist. By this time next week
he would be Raymond Vecchio full time. Weird. At least the Ray was
still the same, he thought, as he was already comfortable thinking
of himself as 'Ray'.
Victor smiled wistfully. What he wouldn't give to get back into the
clear light of official police work. The shadows in which The Agency
sometimes worked made him nervous. "Just making a delivery. I'm down
from Vancouver. We snagged one of your stray perps." If that
statement suggested that he was still a cop himself, there was no
harm in it.
"A Canadian." Kowalski laughed again, a little more honestly this
time. "I must be hitting the start of a streak or something."
"Pardon?"
"Nuthin'." The American shrugged the statement off. He wasn't about
to divulge his new assignment to a complete stranger, even one so
pleasant as this. "Ray Kowalski." He distracted the other man by
offering up an introduction. Maybe he should have said Vecchio but
the complete transformation could wait until Monday. Still, he might
as well get comfortable with using the 'Ray' part of his name. Fuck,
he decided right then that he was going to make himself into a Ray
right down to his core over course of this weekend. It would be one
way to escape all the crap raining down on 'Stanley' right now.
The introduction was the right thing to do. The Canadian seemed
happily stunned by the friendly overture.
"Victor Mansfield." The response was a bit slow off the mark but
there was honest delight underscoring his voice.
The guy was probably used to being ignored in a place so far from
home, Ray decided. Now that he thought about it, this might be a
perfect opportunity to look a typical Canadian over. After all, he
was going to have to start playacting the part of some Mountie's
partner in just a little while according to the file his superiors
had shown him. "So Mansfield, are you almost done here?" A finger
flicked, indicating the paperwork.
"Oh this?" Victor shrugged. To be honest he'd been dragging his
heels on the form. It was simply too inviting, lingering in the
police station, and besides which he had nowhere to go but back to
his hotel room. The prospect of going out or doing the tourist
thing, all alone, was unappealing. "Nearly finished."
"Ya wanna go get a beer? I feel like drinkin' and I'd rather not
drink alone." Ray offered. It caused a dazzling smile to break
across the Canadian's face. The guy's eyes practically sparkled at
hearing the invitation. Kowalski found himself surprised that he
noticed Mansfield's eyes but they were damned hard to overlook,
surrounded as they were by thick black lashes of the kind that his
wife would need to put ten minutes into achieving. No, make that his
ex-wife. Son of a bitch. A depression was yawning open before him
and he needed to shake it off. Ray leaned over to glance at the
paper lying on the desk. "You don't need to do all that crap. As
long as you've got a John Hancock on your transfer sheet you can
toss this into the round file."
Victor looked up at him with a confused expression. "Pardon?"
Ray grinned, grabbed the sheet and pitched it into a nearby
trashcan. "That'll do it."
The bar was starting to get crowded as the sun went down. The noise
level had doubled over the last twenty minutes. Victor and Ray had
been lucky to arrive earlier and order food or they wouldn't have
gotten a booth to themselves or any attention from the waitress.
"You're a beer snob." Kowalski playfully accused his drinking
partner.
"It's our national beverage." Victor smiled and tipped his bottle to
illustrate his point. "We have certain expectations." His grin
widened. "Do you know why American beer is the same as screwing in a
canoe?" he asked, in an arch tone.
Ray's eyebrows lifted expectantly.
"They're both fucking close to water." Victor leaned back in his
side of the booth, looking quite pleased with himself.
"You speakin' from experience?"
"Oh yeah." The Canadian drawled. "I live in an igloo and wear
snowshoes to work ten months of the year too." His dark head shook.
"Sorry. I'm a city-raised brat. I did a turn in Scouts and got
canoeing occasionally, but considering I was sharing the ride with
two other fifteen-year-old boys, not a lot of making out went on,"
he snickered. "Though considering what a horndog Dave Manning was I
might've got some if our Venturer leader wasn't such a light
sleeper."
Ray coughed and sat down his glass of draft with a splutter.
Mansfield had been continually surprising him over the course of the
last two hours, growing bolder in his manners as he got more
comfortable with Ray's company.
"Don't look so shocked." Victor took a sip of beer. "Don't most
teenage boys experiment with that sort of thing?"
Ray shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I didn't do a whole lot of playing
around before I found myÉ" His mouth snapped shut and his eyes
dropped to the sticky tabletop. Stella was now his ex-wife, damn it,
Kowalski internally corrected himself for the thousandth time.
Besides which, his ex-wife wasn't something Ray wanted to think
about tonight. It seemed that lately he'd been considering going out
clubbing to pick up a woman nearly every other night, but it still
felt wrong somehow, as if he were cheating on Stella.
"Women." Victor murmured almost to himself. "Still there's something
to be said for having a steady lady in your life."
"Ain't nothing like it." Ray agreed. "I miss her," he mumbled,
mostly to himself.
Li Ann's face drifted across Victor's thoughts. It had been too long
since he'd woken up beside someone, but the oriental woman was so
hesitant to accept anything more than casual contact from him. It
was frustrating. Victor wondered what it would take to convince her
that he was serious about dating her. He was so damned lonely.
"You got a girl at home?" Ray dragged himself out of his own misery
to notice that the other man's smile had completely faded away. It
was strange how much the loss disappointed him.
"Not really. " Victor admitted. "My Boss flirts with me at least
once a day and there's this rookie I've been meeting for coffee on
and off butÉ" He shrugged. "The work interferes." Victor stayed
vague, quietly enjoying the illusion of being a regular cop rather
than a Government agent. It seemed so much cleaner. "Is that what
happened with you?" He gestured with his bottle. "That divorce
lawyer you were talking to?"
"Her job." Ray glanced at his watch, tempted to flee from the
conversation but not willing to return to the barren new apartment
he was now living in. "My job." He admitted. "She's changed. I
haven't, she says. There's some sanitary term for it on paper.
Fucking garbage." Kowalski snarled.
"Sorry." Victor had noticed his companion preparing to escape and
thought frantically, but unsuccessfully for a change of topic. "Do
you have to go already?" It was pathetic, he realised, how desperate
he was to hold onto the other man's attention. "Jeez." Victor
collapsed back into the cushioned booth, disgusted with himself.
"Sorry. That came outÉ" He trailed off.
Ray rocked his glass against the tabletop, looking embarrassed.
"Well ain't we a sickin' pair." His chuckle conveyed more than a
little irony. When he lifted his eyes from the tabletop he
accidentally met the other man's green gaze dead on. A sensation the
like of which he hadn't felt in too long tore into Ray's gut. The
urge to lean across the expanse and trace his fingers down Victor's
face caught him completely off guard. He hadn't felt like that about
another guy since the day he'd first laid hands on Stella and even
back then he had never got up the nerve to act on those stray
impulses.
Victor's head tilted to one side in an unconsciously provocative
movement. Those dark jade beauties widened even further in inquiry.
Kowalski was staring at him with strangest expression on his angular
face.
"I'm sorry." The Canadian repeated. His cheeks flushed in the dim
light. "I wasn't thinking. I'll get out of your hair." Victor
started to slide across the black vinyl.
"Hey." Ray ran a hand back through his sandy blond spikes. "You
raggin' on my style?" He stalled. "You think just any old barber can
pull this off? I had to look all over the fucking city for one that
had a weed-whacker." The cop invited Victor to share in the jest.
The Canadian paused at the edge of the seat. A small smile played
across his lips. "I like it. Only a guy with some nerve would try to
pull it off." His own hair was still cropped into a simple cut that
practically screamed 'police officer'. Victor's forehead smoothed
out once more. Only a small wrinkle remained between his brows.
"Where are you staying, Victor?" Ray asked in a rather cautious
tone. He wasn't even sure why he was asking.
The crease cut in deeper as Victor studied his companion. "A few
blocks over. Why?" He paused, not sure if he wanted to extend the
invitation that was on the tip of his tongue. He barely knew this
guy. He wasn't likely to ever see him again after leaving Chicago.
Casual sex wasn't something Victor indulged in as a rule, but he was
so lonely tonight that his heart was aching. "Would you like to come
up to my room?" he dared, still perched on the edge of flight.
Ray's pale gaze darted wildly around before settling once more on
Victor. "Yeah. I think I wanna." He admitted reluctantly. "I'm not
sure why 'zactly but yeah, I do."
Victor walked about the room flicking on the lamps while Ray stood
just inside the door. The Chicago cop had grown quieter with every
step they had taken. The Canadian wondered if Kowalski would have
run for it if he hadn't been giving Victor a ride.
"I don'tÉ" Ray began. "I ain't sure what's up with 'dis." He shoved
his hands deep into his pockets.
"It's not like I make a habit out of bringing guys back to my room."
Victor made a point out of stepping away from the bed that dominated
the room. "Should I order up some coffee, or beer, or something?
I've got room service." The Canadian shrugged off his jacket and
hung it on the hook by the bathroom door.
Kowalski continued to linger near the exit. "Not on my account." His
jaw line firmed up and he walked further in. "Me and Stella were
together right out of school. I ain't realÉ" Ray hesitated, "É
experienced at É" his eyes flickered over the bed, "É anything
much."
A shrug lifted Victor's shoulders. His last brushes with gay sex had
been in prison and he wasn't about to elaborate on those for the
policeman. "Would you rather go downstairs, or even leave? I'd
understand."
"I don't want to leave." The declaration was forceful. He paced over
and planted himself right in front of Victor. His hand lifted only
to bunch into a fist right before touching Mansfield's chest. "This
is too weird. How do we start?"
Victor took the clenched fist between both his hands. Using steady,
gentle pressure, he managed to open it. "I'm going to kiss you.
Okay?" The warning was softly spoken.
"Okay. Yeah. Greatness. You do that." Ray's babbling was ended only
by Victor's mouth pressing onto his. It started as a simple kiss and
then Victor's tongue tickled across the cop's lips at the same time
his arms eased around Ray.
It was altogether different from kissing a woman. Ray had to lift
his face to make contact with the taller man and the arms that held
him were muscular and thick. This kiss itself was more powerful as
well. Stella's flirty, sweet kisses were nothing like this.
Mansfield was resolute, drowning passion. His mouth insisted that
Ray's open to him without being so forceful as to frighten the more
inexperienced man. Victor's hands weren't still either. One slid up
Ray's spine, fingers spread wide to get as much contact as possible.
The other hand eased carefully down to just below Ray's tailbone,
where it held, keeping their bodies snug together.
Ray broke the kiss with a desperate gasp for air. "Fuck." He
mumbled. His eyes were wide with surprise. "You kiss like a SWAT
team taking a crack house."
The comparison provoked a sniff of laughter from Victor. His hand
shifted so he could run his thumb across the tender skin below Ray's
ear. "Tell me if it's too much. I don't mean to push. I'm justÉ"
Victor's thumb pad traced around to touch the corner of Ray's mouth.
"It's been a while. Don't let me push you."
"No. This is okay." Ray's hip turned and he felt the other man's
erection press against him. "You want me. I like that. It's a nice
change."
Victor smiled against Ray's skin. "How could anyone not want you?"
he mumbled. His upper hand moved to slide Ray's jacket off his
shoulders. "Can I see you? Can I undress you?" The garment fell
away, hitting the carpet heavily.
Ray's t-shirt was next. It peeled up and over his head without a
snag. Victor was thrilled with the musculature that was revealed.
Ray was wiry compared to himself and nothing like any of Victor's
recent lovers. That gave the encounter uniqueness. He could take
this fling and place it in a special corner of his mind. "Lovely."
The word seemed to strangely suit the cop.
There was no reason to hurry so Victor indulged himself. He took the
time to map out every bit of exposed skin with his fingertips and
lips, gradually circling around the other man. By the time he
finished his explorations and concentrated his attention on the nape
of Ray's neck the American was shivering and faint, not quite
distressed noises were sounding low in Ray's throat.
"You okay?" Victor prompted as he pressed himself to the other's
back. One palm skittered over a sharp hip to stroke across straining
denim.
Ray hissed, bucking into the light contact. "I'm dying here."
"You want to lie down?"
"Fuck. I don't know. Yeah, I suppose." His legs felt as if they were
going to give out. It was with a complex mixture of relief and
trepidation that Ray allowed himself to be guided to and settled on
to the edge of the bed.
"Lie back." Victor suggested, pressing at the other's shoulders.
"I'd like to take the rest of your gear off," he warned as he knelt
down between Ray's knees. Victor's hands smoothed up blue-jean
covered thighs until they came to a rest at the waistband.
"Why's it feel like yer givin' me the skittish virgin special?" The
American's laugh was just a bit on the hysterical side. "I don't
need the kid gloves treatment."
Victor gazed up. His green eyes had darkened. "I'm not much for
casual encounters," he explained. "If it's all right with you I'd
just as soon treat this like it might be the start of something,
even if it isn't." Soft lips dropped to set a kiss on Ray's crotch.
"You're worth all the time and attention I'm giving you." Victor
assured the other.
"IÉ thank you." Simply accepting the compliment was awkward but it
seemed to be what Victor wanted. Ray layed back with a heavy breath
and stared up at the ceiling. When he felt Mansfield pop open the
button above his zipper his breath faltered. When that same zipper
began to descend Ray held his breath, this was overwhelming.
"It's okay." Victor murmured. "I know it's a lot. My first time with
a guy was a revelation. It was sweet and terrifying at the same
time." His fingers moved. "Lift up, Ray."
The cop felt a tug at his underwear and jeans.
"Be grateful you're not seventeen and that your boyfriend's family
isn't sleeping down the hallway." Victor peeled away the American's
pants.
Another nervous laugh broke from Ray's throat. "I feel like a
teenager right about now," he admitted. His shoes and socks were
taken, and then the scant weight of his jockeys and jeans on his
legs disappeared.
"You're gorgeous." Victor's fingers skimmed up lean legs, leaving
the skin tingling as they passed. "You feel wonderful."
Ray tipped his head to look down his body at Mansfield. "Am I the
only one that's gonna get naked here?" He questioned.
"Sorry. I couldn't help myself." Victor didn't sound apologetic. He
inched up to bend and plant a kiss on the tip of Ray's cock, making
it bob with excitement.
"Son'bitch!" The American's body attempted to strain upward when
Mansfield stood.
"Hold that thought." Victor peeled himself out of his own clothes
with much less finesse than he'd used undressing Ray.
Ray had to admire the other man's fine form. Victor was thicker set
and tightly muscled without looking like some kind of weight lifter.
The Canadian was a bit on the pale side and only sparsely haired.
Ray stared, imprinting the other man's type on the back of his mind.
Yeah, he could go for this again. Kowalski was surprised women
weren't crawling over each other to get hold of Mansfield. The guy
was devastating.
Victor's clothes were tossed aside carelessly and in no time flat he
was climbing back onto the bed beside his companion.
A deep breath was pulled in, and then the air shuddered back out of
Kowalski. "I should warn ya, Victor. I'm really close to panicking
right now." He couldn't seem to stop the shivers running up his
spine.
"It's going to be all right." The Canadian assured him. "I've got
you." He stretched out beside Ray and cautiously extended a hand to
pet the shivering body beside him from shoulder to stomach. "Nothing
you don't want." Victor promised again. His palm circled the
trembling belly several times before drifting into wider strokes.
"You're perfect."
A nervous laugh escaped the American. "Yeah, right." His voice was
sceptical and tense. The caress felt exceedingly good but it made
him nervous the way his body was arching up into the gentle contact.
Victor shifted, closing the distance between them. He was halfway
raised on one arm, able to bend over the other man. With clearly
obvious movements, so as not to startle Ray, Victor leaned the rest
of the way over and pressed his lips to Ray's fever-hot forehead.
When no objection came his kisses continued. Victor brushed his
mouth over the other's temples, across narrow eyebrows, and then
down Ray's nose. Those pink lips opened immediately under him and
Victor felt a thick rush of pleasure.
Using the kiss as slight distraction, Victor let his fingers trail
lower. When he wrapped his hand around Ray's erection the American
let out a groan right into Victor's mouth. Pleased with the erotic
sound, his hand continued to gently pump, dragging more moans out of
the other man.
Ray's arms had been lying at his side, his fingers bunching in the
bedspread, but as the tormentingly slow hand-job continued he
couldn't lay still. Shaking arms rose to drag Victor closer. His
whole body was rising off the mattress, attempting to follow the
other's touch. Ray's head fell backwards even as his hips lifted and
he gasped desperately. "Oh God damn. Your handÉ son of a bitch."
Admittedly, Ray didn't masturbate that often but he'd thought he
knew what he was doing. He didn't. His own jerking
self-gratification was primitive when compared to the feel of
Victor's fingers on him. Victor's touch was relentless, never
pausing even when he wasn't actively stroking Ray's cock. Fingertips
caressed his balls, skated across his hip and down the crease of his
leg, then slipped back up and over his erection. The teasing contact
tightened and then skittered loosely. A thumb brushed over the
leaking head and Ray let out a strangled shout. "FUCK!"
"Are you okay?" Victor hesitated.
"Don' stop, damn you."
"Let meÉ" It was hard moving down the other's body. Ray's fingers
clawed at Victor in an attempt to keep him in place. The Canadian
planted wet, open-mouthed kisses as he squirmed lower. They trailed
from Ray's exposed throat, down his smooth chest and stomach.
"Easy." Victor shifted his grip to the cop's hips, encouraging him
to slide further onto the bed. "I want to taste you." His left palm
ran down the inside of one leg then up again, gently encouraging
Ray's legs to spread apart.
"Fuck." The American moved awkwardly, rolling his hips as he
shimmied over the nubby fabric. "Yeah." Ray's hands trembled and he
laid one on the Canadian's soft dark hair. "Do that," he allowed,
wondering if his body could take the extreme sensation without
flying apart.
It could. Much to Ray's surprise when that wet heat closed over him
he went boneless rather than tensing further. Victor's mouth didn't
provoke, it welcomed. Kowalski's mouth opened but nothing more than
a breathy sigh emerged.
A few moments later Ray realised that Victor's hands hadn't slowed.
While the Canadian gently suckled, his fingers continued to trace
patterns and coax. They slid up over Ray's hips and around. He
tickled the crease of Ray's legs and tenderly cupped his balls. The
tension that had melted into delight began ratcheting back up again.
Almost unconsciously, Ray lifted his legs and hooked over the
other's shoulders. His lower body rose off the bed as if attempting
to disappear inside Victor's mouth. Rather than discouraging this
action, Victor's hands moved underneath to support Ray's ass,
coaxing it higher. Victor's thumb slid into the crease and began
working across the tight pucker. The American rumbled out a noise of
confused pleasure at the sensation. The saliva dripping down
Victor's chin served to make things damp and slippery.
When his thumb first pierced Ray it took the American a second to
realise what had actually happened. Ray froze a moment then let out
a groan that was torn right up from the depths of his soul. Victor
responded with a half-formed chortle, and then the tip of Ray's cock
was shoved to the back of his throat. The action of his thumb
hesitated a breath then began again, tenderly pressing and widening.
Victor sucked his partner's cock harder, nicely counterbalancing the
novel sensation of penetration that Ray felt.
The licking and swallowing continued for a long time, as did the
insistent stretching of Ray's entrance. Nearly constant groans could
be felt vibrating through the cop's chest. His hips rolled
restlessly and his legs were tight, holding the other man in place.
An unexpected touch sent a flash of intense pleasure burning up
Ray's spine.
"Son. Of. A. Bitch!" Ray screamed, completely undone. "Whadda do? Do
it again." He pleaded, his head tossing uncontrollably.
Victor's fingers pressed deeper, invoking even more pleasure. Ray
lifted off the bed in his eagerness to increase the feeling. Victor
finally pulled his mouth off with a sloppy, sucking noise.
"No!" Ray protested the loss with a frustrated wail. His heels
attempted to dig and hold.
"Maybe I shouldn't. You don't know me. I wouldn't normally." The
Canadian began vaguely. "I won't hurt you," Victor murmured as he
shifted around, squirming up to his knees. "But please," he
attempted to adjust Ray's legs. "Can I have you? I want to be inside
you." Fingers petted. "It's been so long and you're so hot."
Ray's eyes shut tight and he let out a shuddering breath. "I suppose
if I'm gonna do this, I might as well do it all."
Victor's face turned and he planted a kiss on the inside of Ray's
leg. "Take a deep breath. Relax and let it out when I tell you," he
instructed. "You liked my fingers. You're gonna adore this, I
promise."
Blunt pressure pushed at Ray's behind.
"Now." Victor's fingers held tight, pulling the other man towards
himself at the same time his own body pressed forward. "Jeez!"
Ray's closed eyes snapped open wide at he felt his body breached.
All the air rushed out of his lungs and his hands spasmed against
the sheets, attempting to hold on something.
Victor went still. "It's okay. Relax. I won't hurt you." He didn't
attempt to penetrate the other man any further and waited while
Ray's mind and body adjusted to what was happening. "Jeez, Ray, you
feel wonderful. Better than anything has in ages." Victor whispered,
stroking the body below him.
Ray found himself unable to respond, his mouth was open but all that
he could manage were desperate gasps for air. It wasn't so much a
physical thing as a mental thing. It was hard to wrap his mind
around the fact Ray was not only allowing but encouraging a man he
hadn't even known yesterday to fuck him.
"Easy." Victor continued to pet. "Relax." He carefully eased his
companion's legs and hips into a more comfortable position and
slowly pressed the rest of the way in. A guttural exclamation of
enjoyment accompanied the action.
Once in place Mansfield held still except for the shivers running
just under his skin.
Ray squirmed, uncertain of what he wanted from the other man.
"Carefully, I'm going to move," he warned, after a pause long enough
to make both of them crazy. Then the rocking began. It was shallow
to begin with, only gradually did Victor's strokes lengthen until at
last he was thrusting hard and deep.
Each sliding motion scraped across Ray's nerves as if the feelings
were coming from every square inch of his flesh rather than just his
ass. His arms flailed momentarily before Kowalski managed to wrap
his hands around some wood spindles at the head of the bed. This was
nothing like he had expected. It was a revelation. He tipped his
hips up further, silently requesting to be taken even harder.
Looking up at Victor only compounded the unreal situation. The
Canadian's face was practically glowing. Sweat was spiking his short
hair, darkening his long lashes and dripping off his forehead to
splash down on Ray's tightly bunched body. Victor was throwing
himself into the act with every fibre of his being.
When Mansfield released his grip on his partner's hips to wrap his
fingers around Ray's straining erection, the American finally lost
the tiny bit of restraint he had left. He shouted out a demand for
satisfaction. "Need that!" The slight shift in position was driving
Victor's moving cock across that place inside him that set
explosions off inside Ray's brain.
Victor didn't respond verbally but his hand pumped Ray's erection
and the slamming of his hips against Ray's body increased in speed.
The Canadian's breath came in a series of harsh pants. A few words
might have been mixed into the laboured sound but it was nothing
Kowalski could recognise until Victor commanded, "NOW." His grip
grew punishing. "Come now."
Not sure if it was the smoky, erotic order, or the physical stimuli
but an instant later the tremors that had been wracking inside Ray
graduated into convulsions. If Victor didn't have him pinned Ray was
certain he would have tossed him off the squeaking bed and onto the
floor. Everything burned; his shivering legs, his fountaining cock,
his ass, his spine, even his throat.
You've never lived until this moment, Ray's chaotic thoughts
insisted. All that mattered was the man on top of him and his own
devastated body. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before. Ray
wanted it to last forever. He wanted it again, and again. That
thought continued to sink further into his mind as the rush finally
began to dissipate. It took a conscious decision not to grab Victor,
cling to him, and insist that the man never return to his own
country.
"Fuck." Victor's curse was faint and punctuated by the way he sagged
above his companion. Reluctantly he pulled out and away to avoid
collapsing on top of Ray. Instead he sank down beside his lover of
the evening.
Neither man spoke. Both were wrapped up inside their own minds.
Victor moved so his arm was draped over the other man and his face
was pressed into Ray's skin but his eyes were squeezed tightly shut.
This was what he needed, even more than the sex, as wonderful as it
had been. Victor wanted to lie next to another person and know he
was welcome. There had to be someone willing to be with him like
this every night. The possibility that Ray was that person was an
illusion, Victor realised that, but it would do until he went home
and could see about securing someone. Maybe Li Ann would be willing.
The silence went on long enough that each man began to suspect that
the other had fallen asleep.
Ray was the one to break it. "When do you have to leave?" His
question was a whisper since he wasn't sure Victor was awake to hear
it.
Victor almost feigned sleep to avoid answering. "My flight is on
Sunday night. My boss wanted me to have a weekend off, I guess." He
swallowed nervously at the awkward mood between them. "Will you stay
with me this weekend?"
The American's breath came out in a shaky stream. "Yeah. Greatness.
I think I'd like that. I suppose I could show you around if you
want." He gave in to the urge to cling and was pleasantly surprised
when Victor opened his arms in welcome. "This is kinda strange butÉ"
he floundered. "You're good."
Victor laughed low in his throat and squirmed so even less space was
between them. "Thanks." He petted across the other man's cooling
skin. "But if it's alright with you could weÉ maybe we could just
barricade ourselves in here?" Victor's lips pressed a kiss to the
hair he had his face buried in. "If this is all we're going to get
then I'd like to drag as much out of the weekend as I can."
"Oh fuck."
"Sorry." Victor made as if to pull away but Ray wouldn't let him.
"I didn't mean 'no'. It's just strange." Came the explanation. "This
is kinda a eye-opener for me, y'know." Ray swallowed. "But I'd like
to stay. I really think I would. I should see that lawyer tomorrow
but I could do it Monday."
Victor carefully extracted himself from the tangle of their bodies
and pushed up onto one elbow. His green eyes caught Ray's blue. The
Canadian seemed to be judging something. "I wish it could be more
than a weekend." Victor finally announced in a grave voice. "But if
we thought that, we'd just be fooling ourselves, wouldn't we? I
can't stay here, and I doubt I'll be back anytime soon."
Ray blinked slowly. "I can't leave." He responded eventually.
Victor nodded in silent agreement, a sad smile tugged at the corner
of his lips. "So we'd better make the most of what time we've got.
Are you tired yet?" Fingers trailed down Ray's ribcage.
"You got room service," the cop reminded Victor. "Feed me first and
we'll see what happens."
That's it. Milk and cookies time
ictor had wondered aloud about why he was being given this job when
the Director had assigned him the task of escorting a prisoner down
to Chicago. As she heard the half-hearted question, the Director's
auburn eyebrows raised, her scarlet lips had pursed in amusement,
and she made an obscure observation that 'getting out of town for a
while would do him good'. That damned woman never could just answer
a question and pressing the topic might have provoked more of her
flirting, rather frightening, attentions than Victor was prepared to
deal with.
