Page 65 of No Surrender
“God, yes.”
They turned to face each other in the near dark, illuminated by the glow of a single nightlight. Vic slipped his hand into Simon’s pants, jacking him dry and rough, almost panicked.
Simon caught his wrist and stilled the motion. “Hey. Slow down. We’ve got time.”
He reached for the nightstand and grabbed the lube, giving them each a generous dollop. “This is affirmation—not penance,” he reminded Vic and wrapped his fingers around Vic’s cock.
“The hag got in my head,” Vic confessed as his hand slid from base to shaft, swirled over the knob, and slid down again. “Made me see things. I—” his voice broke off in a near-sob, but he didn’t slow his rhythm, and his grip was just shy of too much.
“Shh.” Simon picked up his pace and pressed the edge of his thumb against the sensitive spot just below the head of Vic’s cock. He dragged a nail through the slit and then made his hand a tight channel and set a steady motion.
“Come for me,” Simon begged. “We both need it. Let me make it good for you.”
Vic threw his head back, open-mouthed, as his climax overtook him. Simon enjoyed the sight of his lover drunk on sensation. He was hyper-aware of Vic’s hold on his cock, just enough and bloody perfect.
He came seconds later, shouting Vic’s name, breathless and sweaty and undeniably alive.
They collapsed in a heap, heaving for breath, high on endorphins, marveling that they had survived.
After a time, Simon collected his wits and carefully disentangled himself from Vic, who was already sleeping soundly. Simon ran a cloth under warm water and cleaned up, then came back to bed and wiped the jizz from Vic’s belly. He threw the washcloth on the floor to deal with in the morning. One glance at the clock reminded Simon that dawn was only an hour away.
* * *
They woke groggy and disoriented when Simon’s alarm went off. Both of them called off for the morning, promising to come in after lunch when he woke the next time, Simon knew he’d slept longer than intended. Vic had his phone in hand and glanced over when Simon stirred.
“Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.”
“Ross says he’ll be back in the office on Friday. He heard back from his FBI profiler friend who looked over everything we had on Judd and says he’s a perfect fit for a fanboy copycat. And Hargrove is feeling better and wants to—and I quote—‘get this Slitter shit over with.’”
“Yeah?”
Vic nodded. “Detective Jackson interviewed Judge Byrnam about that cursed poker chip. She admitted to having unusual nightmares. The IT guys said they thought they’d have a digital profile by late this afternoon and an idea of where Judd might be from his logins.”
Simon groaned. “So you’re saying we have to get out of bed?”
Vic chuckled and kissed the top of Simon’s head. “’Fraid so.”
* * *
Simon headed to check in at the shop while Vic went to the police station. To his surprise, Walt rose from a nearby bench where he’d obviously been waiting.
“Pete said you’d be in around lunch, so I figured I’d wait,” Walt told him. “I just wanted to thank you for finally doing right by those women who went missing. I told Ed Gallagher that his tips and instincts paid off. He said what you and Vic did will let him move on in peace when the time comes.”
“Thank you for bringing the case to light and not giving up on it,” Simon replied. “We looked into it because you didn’t let it be forgotten. Their families can finally get closure.”
“Does that mean I can interview you and Vic for an exclusive story?” The glint in the newsman’s eyes made Simon chuckle.
“Let me get back to you on that,” Simon told him. “I need to clear that with Vic and his boss.” Usually he avoided media interviews unless they were to promote Grand Strand Ghost Tours, but Walt had led them to solve the Thompson killings, and Simon figured he deserved some of the credit.
“I’ll look forward to hearing from you. See you around.” Walt saluted and then strolled off down the Boardwalk.
Pete had been watching from inside the shop. “I see Walt got to say what he came to say. He’s been waiting for about an hour. I offered to call him when you got here, but he said he’d rather hang out.”
“He’s the reason we were able to solve the eighties murders,” Simon replied. “We owe him a lot.”
“How are you and Vic doing?” Pete asked. “You had a busy day.”
