Page 35 of Capturing Perfection

“Who was it?” Clay growled.

“Doesn’t matter. One of the other investigators overheard him and handled the situation. He’s on administrative leave, but you know—”

“Honey, listen to me. You’re a fantastic technician. You know weapons and their signature characteristics better than anyone. For you, calculating trajectories is like adding one plus one, whereas the rest of us get hives at the thought. I might not work in the same department as you, but don’t think I don’t know just how much respect you’ve gained in the few months since you joined the force. My captain is convinced that the sun shines out your ass. Hell, every time he sees me, he asks about you. I’m feeling a little inadequate,” Clay finished, smiling.

“I appreciate the pep talk, but we both know there are times I still miss things.”

“Well, yeah, but they’re getting fewer and farther between. The implants were not a cure, Logan, and everyone with a modicum of intelligence recognizes that. I sense something else is going on here. This isn’t just about the asshole detective.”

Logan shrugged

Clay slid forward on the seat and draped his legs over Logan’s thighs. His arms encircled Logan’s waist, and his lips nuzzled against Logan’s. It took a few moments, but Logan respondedto Clay’s kisses. Their heads tilted until lips met. Clay traced his tongue along the bottom edge of Logan’s lower lip, seeking entry. He flicked the tip over the seam of Logan’s lips, and they parted in welcome. He fed his tongue into Logan’s mouth, moaning at the taste within.

Logan’s hands speared through his hair and held him still as the kiss deepened. Clay’s cock jumped in his cargo shorts, filling with blood as it did every time Logan was near. Clay was so addicted to his lover that Logan didn’t even have to touch him. Being near the man sent him into heat.

Clay’s hand dropped to the waistband of Logan’s shorts. His fingers burrowed beneath the elastic and encountered the pouch of Logan’s jockstrap bulging with his arousal. Clay’s hand drifted lower to cup the full balls snug inside the support. Logan moaned, and his hands tightened in Clay’s hair.

Before things could get completely out of control, Clay pushed Logan away. He was met by lust filled questioning eyes.

“Wait … wait … we were talking.”

Logan tried to gather Clay back into his body. “Talk later; fuck now.”

Clay’s eyes fluttered shut when Logan grabbed his crotch and massaged the hard cock beneath his shorts. He craved Logan. At the moment, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to lie back on the bench and spread his legs like a proper slut should or strip the little red shorts from Logan’s body and bend him over the bench, while still wearing the jock. He could picture it vividly. Logan’s taut ass lifted in the air, open and framed perfectly for his pleasure. Clay could shove his cock deep and thrust into the tight heat until they both found blissful oblivion.

No! Fucking would wait. He wanted to get to the bottom of what was really bothering Logan. Avoidance would not solve the problem. No matter how pleasant the diversion may be.

“No, Logan. Tell me it all, and then I promise I’ll ream you so good you’ll never look at this bench the same way again. Every time you come in here, you’ll picture yourself bent over and spread open. Your ass raised, begging for my cock. Maybe I’ll slap it a few times, get it good and pink. Warm that soft skin up ‘til it turns a pretty little rose color, and then … oh Logan … then we’ll…”

Logan panted. “We’ll what, Clay? Please tell me. I wanna hear it.”

“You finish, Logan, and I’ll do one better. I’ll show you.”

“Bastard, that’s blackmail.”

Clay smiled, and Logan growled.

Logan shoved Clay away from him and got off the bench. He paced the length of the room a couple of times. His cock pulsed with need, and Clay withheld his release until Logan finished confessing his soul.

He could just leave, get in the shower and deal with the problem at hand, so to speak. However, he knew that would hurt Clay’s feelings. He knew his lover was only trying to help, evenif his methods were sadistic. When he calmed down enough so that his cock didn’t feel as if it would explode at the next touch, he stopped pacing. Logan stood in the center of the room, legs braced apart, arms crossed as he’d seen his DI do hundreds of times at boot camp.

“They need me to testify on the Markham case on Friday. I have to go up on the stand and answer questions about my test procedures and defend the conclusions.”

“And you’re worried because?”

“What if I can’t hear the defense attorney? What if he asks me questions with his back turned or tries to trick me? Everyone at HQ knows about my hearing, and most of the time, they’re all successful about getting my attention and making sure they face me. But this guy? I don’t know him. I don’t know his voice. I don’t know his mannerisms. All Idoknow is that he’s known for exploiting every little loophole in the system, every ‘i’ not dotted every ‘t’ not crossed to get his clients off. I don’t want to be the weak link that lets the murderer of a sixteen-year-old girl back on the streets.”

Clay stood and walked over to Logan. He rubbed the stiff arms and loosened the clenched fists. “You’re not alone in that courtroom, Logan. The prosecutor won’t let him take advantage of you. You stood in dusty streets under desert sun to face down insurgents carrying automatic weapons, intent on killing you with their next shot. I know you can handle one slimy lawyer in a city courtroom. I have faith in you. The force has faith in you, too, otherwise they wouldn’t have given you the opportunity to work this case.”

Logan heard the words and saw the truth of them in Clay’s eyes, the gray mimicking hardened steel with conviction. Clay had faith in him; Clay trusted him. It wouldn’t stop the butterflies, but it helped ease the panic before it could consume him. All the CSIs and the case detective told him it would befine. His methods had been accurate; his conclusion was solidly based on the evidence. He was only one small part of the investigation. Other technicians would give testimony on trace evidence and DNA. He could do this. He had the prosecutor, his team and most importantly Clay in his corner. He might ask Matt about it in their session tomorrow. Maybe he would have some tips or techniques. That was tomorrow though. Tonight, he would make Clay pony up.

Logan took a step back and pushed his gym shorts down to his ankles. He kicked off his sneakers and held out his arms. His thumbs tucked into the wide waistband of his jockstrap.

“Stop! Leave that on,” Clay commanded.

Logan held his breath as Clay circled him. Clay’s fingers skimmed over the surface of his skin. Traces of heat lingered from the simple touch, and shivers rippled down his spine when Clay’s tongue licked the back of his neck. He leaned on his heels, seeking a greater touch, only to jump forward as Clay’s hand met the fleshy curve of his butt exposed by the straps of his athletic support. The sharp sting quickly faded to a low throb beneath his skin. Clay forced his wrists behind his back and kicked his feet apart as he would when arresting someone.

Hmm, too bad Clay doesn’t have his handcuffs. That could be fun.

---