Page 55 of Traitor

My pants grew tighter and I fumbled with them one-handed until they were unzipped. My cock tented my boxer briefs, but it was a hell of a lot better than strangling it with the zipper on my pants.

The reds and blues that lit up my rearview mirror would not likely share my point of view on that though. I pulled over with a heavy sigh.

Fuck.

“Sayonara, Detective Sullivan. It was nice knowing ya,” I grumbled while placing both hands on the steering wheel.

The officer sauntered up. He was one of the rookies—a blue flamer, as I liked to call them. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that I was getting out of this one. I’d be in cuffs within five seconds of him talking to me.

“Good evening, sir. Do you know why I stopped you tonight?”

I decided that I had about zero fucks left to give and gave him a cocky grin. “You realized that women weren’t into you, so you thought you’d try and grab me. Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not into chubby dudes. Lose some weight and we’ll talk.”

The officer frowned. “License and registration. Oh, and I stopped you because you were weaving all over the road.” He glanced down at my unzipped jeans and limp cock before replying, “Guess that explains that.”

I handed over my driver’s license, insurance, and badge. His eyes widened. “Sullivan?”

I dryly responded, “In the flesh.”

“Kyle. Kyle Barton. Fuck, you’re a legend around the station. I waved to you once as you walked to your truck, but I don’t think you saw me.” He continued rambling for a few more minutes and I took the opportunity to zip my pants back up and tuck my shirt back in.

“Look, Kyle. I hate to cut this short, but I’ve got a dinner to get to and I’m already twenty minutes late. Can we keep this little ‘mishap’ to ourselves?”

He hesitated for a second, but then nodded. “Just this once. Try to keep yourself—uh, decent.”

I slapped him on the shoulder. “You got it, Kyle. Have a good night.”

I made it to Torch’s house in record time, having sobered up quite a bit during my traffic stop. I found a bottle of mouthwash in the console and gargled with it before spitting into the grass.

Fresh as a fucking daisy.

I knocked and Torch answered the door with an amused grin. “This oughta be good.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I asked.

He gave me that shit-eating grin again. “Does she know you’re stopping by?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course she does—she invited me. Why?”

He pointed toward the kitchen. “Why don’t you go see for yourself?”

I checked him with my shoulder as I walked past and froze when I got to the kitchen. Lauren’sabuelahad apparently been inviting the entire goddamn neighborhood to dinner. Jimmy sat next to Lauren, his arm draped casually across her chair.

“What the fuck is this?” I bellowed and forks clattered down to plates.

Lauren gave a small sigh and dropped her head into her hands. “Mike, why are you here?”

Gloria pushed her chair back and stood up, leaning over the table toward me. The only thing she was missing was the wooden spoon. “Language. You do not walk into someone’s home and start cursing likeun pirata. Manners.”

“Uh,Abuelita?I believe you meantun marinero—he’s cursing like asailor…not pirate,” Jimmy offered helpfully before going back to his enchiladas.

Fuck this guy.

“Oh, look everyone! Jimmy speaks Spanish. Isn’t that just the most delightful thing ever?” I clapped slowly and took pleasure in seeing him scowl.

Lauren stood up, dropping her napkin to the floor. “Excuse us for just a minute.”

Her fingers dug into my arm as she dragged me down the hallway and into her bedroom. “Why, Mike? Why are you here?”

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