Sheriff’s Secret Read online

Page 9


  “Dante,” he whispers. “Holy fuck.”

  “Watch us come together,” I command, stealing a quick kiss before turning my attention down to our dicks.

  Breathing heavily, we both watch in anticipation as we stroke. I know the second he’s about to come because his entire body tightens. Tearing my gaze from our cocks to watch his face is what ultimately has me coming.

  So fucking hot.

  His bottom lip is captured between his teeth and his cheeks are pink from exertion. A groan of pleasure rumbles from him seconds before his warmth spills out. I grunt, bucking my hips into our joined hands, dizzy with pleasure as I shoot out ropes of cum. It’s messy as fuck, but goddamn it’s hot seeing my cum all over his cock and hand.

  We remain still for a moment, both of our chests heaving, as we stare down at what we’ve done.

  “Fuck…” He tilts his head up to look at the ceiling. “That was really, really good.”

  “I was aiming for amazing. Really, really good makes me think I need to up my game,” I tease as I step back. “You’re a messy boy, Sheriff.”

  He shuffles away toward the bathroom to grab a towel, his bare ass making me hard all over again. I try not to stare at his beautiful dick as he cleans himself off. For a second, he starts to reach forward to clean me off too, but then freezes.

  “Uh, here.” He thrusts the towel at me, not making eye contact.

  “You can jack me off but you can’t clean me off? You wound me.”

  His brown eyes lift to mine and a smile tugs at his sexy mouth. “I didn’t think…I’m out of my depth here, Dante. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

  “You clean me off, boy,” I say in a firm tone that makes his eyes flash with heat. “It’s what a good lover does.”

  Stepping forward, he gently cleans off my dick and hand. Then, his lips are on mine again in a surprisingly sweet kiss. I grab a handful of his ass, drawing him to me.

  “I want to do this again.” His lips pull from mine and he meets my stare, uncertainty gleaming in them.

  “Exactly this?”

  “More,” he murmurs. “When I have more time.”

  Guilt turns his lips down into a frown. Reaching up, I rub his bottom lip with my thumb.

  “Invite me over again and I’ll be here.”

  “Just like that?” His brows deepen.

  “Fucking around with you isn’t a hardship, Sheriff. Have you seen yourself in a mirror lately?” I smirk at him. “I’m personally holding out for a thank you blowjob.”

  He smiles, wide and boyish. “I can arrange that.”

  “It’s settled. I’ll come back without Callan in tow another day. You can have your dirty little way with me.”

  “I want that,” he agrees. “You can park at Caper Beach and walk across the street so no one sees.”

  The desire that had been burning hot through my veins cools. I’m not a needy guy. I promised him I’d let him stay in the closet. So why do I feel disappointed by his request?

  “Sure thing, Sheriff,” I say with a forced smile. “Any other requests?”

  He opens his mouth when someone bangs on the bedroom door. Jax’s face pales with horror as he quickly yanks his jeans into place.

  “Yeah?” he chokes out.

  “Did you really leave the dishes for us to do?” Zak asks.

  “Part of your punishment,” Jax barks out. “I’m just showing Dante my…”

  “Closet,” I finish with a wink as I pull my pants into place. “I didn’t believe he has forty versions of the same damn blue shirt. Boy did he prove me wrong.”

  Zak laughs. “No shit. He’s the most cliché small town cop ever.”

  Jax starts to open the door now that we’re decent, but I stop him by grabbing his elbow and nodding toward the lube. His face turns bright red as he snatches it up along with the towel. Once he’s cleared the area, I open the door to find Zak holding on to the doorframe, waiting with a knowing smile on his face.

  I give nothing away and playfully punch his gut. “Is Callan going to be able to help you with your apartment?”

  “Yeah,” Zak chirps as he starts down the hallway. “He definitely sees potential in that shithole.”

  “Ungrateful shit,” Jax grumbles, finally recovering from his moment of embarrassment. “Go do the dishes, dumbass.”

  Zak saunters off toward the kitchen where Callan is already at the sink. I cast a glance back at Jax, who stares at me with barely veiled hunger. Poor guy is afraid to come out of the closet. Imagine his horror when he realizes his closet is made of glass and anyone really looking can see inside. There’s no hiding the fact Jaxson Bell is gay as fuck and that he’s imagining burying himself in my ass right this moment.

  Tomorrow, eager boy.

  Tomorrow I’ll sneak over and drive you wild.

  After a hot, sticky weekend, I’ll walk away and let him get back to navigating his sexuality alone.

  “It wasn’t him,” Callan says once we’re back in the Range Rover headed back home.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “The note I found in my locker came from someone else. I compared his handwriting.” He holds up a piece of paper. “He gave me his email so I could send him pictures of design ideas for his apartment.”

  “So someone called you a fairy via a note in your locker?” I clarify. “Why did you jump to conclusions that it was Zak?”

  He sighs and shrugs. “He looked guilty. Plus, he was standing right by my locker.”

  “So what now?”

  “Now I have to apologize.”

  “That’s a start. You didn’t do that before you left?”

  “I felt stupid,” he admits. “I got him kicked out of his house. Words won’t be enough. I need to figure out something.”

  “Just don’t suck his dick.”

  His laughter fills the air. “Zak? Even if he were gay, he’s not my type. I want to be his friend, though.”

  “Do you think it’ll happen?”

  “He’s a cool guy. I may not understand football shit, but I understand having a shitty home life.”

  I wince at his words. “Tell me how you really feel.”

  “Not like…” He groans. “Of course you took that the wrong way.”

  “I didn’t exactly think your home life was shitty, but please, do tell how I can make it better, your highness.”

  “Never mind,” he snaps, turning his attention to the window.

  “No,” I grit out. “I’m tired of this wall between us, Callan. Look, I get it. You hate me for ruining your life. I’m sorry. Can you just understand I’m doing the best I can? I’m not Dad, goddammit.”

  “No, because he’s fucking dead.” A choked sound comes from him and he curls into himself, not looking at me. He silently cries the whole way home, making me feel like a monster.

  I wasn’t trying to upset him. I only want to understand him.

  When we reach the B&B, he bolts from the car, leaving me feeling like the world’s biggest asshole. I glance down at my phone in the console. Before I left Jax’s, he programmed his number into it. I’ve been gone ten minutes. Surely that makes me fucking pathetic if I have this insane need to text him in my moment of pity.

  Giving in to temptation, I send him a text.

  Me: Is there a handbook on this fatherly bullshit, because apparently I’m fucking failing.

  His response is immediate, making me smile.

  Jax: If there is, I’m gonna need the CliffsNotes.

  Me: We had a good time tonight…even if my little brother is an asshole.

  Jax: Us too. Especially me. Thanks for being so cool about it. I pegged you for a prick and I was wrong.

  Me: Nah, just a guy who wants to peg you with his prick.

  Jax: I walked into that one, didn’t I?

  Me: Now if only we could get you to stop walking into things and start walking out…

  Jax: Good night, big city man.

  Me: Night, Sheriff.

  Jaxson
>
  “It’s called a lumber party. Get it?” Cato asks. “Hey, dummy. Focus.”

  I growl when he smacks me in the head. “What the hell was that for?”

  “For ignoring me,” he sasses back. “I’m trying to plan my birthday party and it’s like you don’t even care.”

  “I care,” I mutter, frowning at him. “I’m just thinking about the Rainbow Vigilante case.”

  Not a total lie.

  It’s on my mind, especially since this time the perp hit Wolffish Floral last night. Wanda, the elderly owner, said it’s pretty and she’s keeping it, much to Ned Townsend’s horror. Paul interrogated her like she was a goddamn suspect in a murder investigation until I made his ass leave her alone.

  No new leads, which is annoying as hell.

  But that’s not what’s on my mind. It’s last night. Him.

  Dante fucking Kincaid.

  “Who’s the lucky sister?” Cato asks, his dark brow arched high before whispering, “or mister?”

  I clear my throat and shake my head. “It’s no one. Do you have to sit on my desk?”

  “He’s like a parrot,” Brie chimes in unhelpfully from nearby. “But, like, he talks way more. He’d sit on your shoulder if he could.”

  “Hush, female,” Cato hisses before turning back to me. “Focus, babe. We’re talking about the most anticipated event of the year.”

  “You’re the only one who anticipates it,” I tease, smirking at him.

  “Take it back,” he growls, “or I’ll make it a drag party and get to pick out a dress for you to wear.”

  “Fine,” I say through a laugh. “I’m sorry. Now please, tell me all about this lumber party.”

  He grins at me, preening that he got his damn way. “So it’s like a slumber party, but rather than a bunch of annoying girls—no offense, Brie pumpkin—it’s just the boys.”

  “This doesn’t sound fun at all,” I throw out. “Zero fun.”

  “I wore hideous bowling shoes for your birthday, Jaxson Matthew Bell! You owe me!”

  “You’re such a little baby,” I complain. “Fine. Tell me what I have to do.”

  “All you have to do is show up,” he says, toying with his black scarf. “Bring ice cream and your jammies. We’ll watch movies and eat a million calories because calories don’t count on your birthday. That’s what Momma says anyway.”

  “This party sounds…vague.”

  “You don’t trust me?” He gasps as though I’ve offended him. “I promise. It’s innocent. Just boys being adorable and hanging out.” He bats his lashes at me.

  Fuck, I’m weak for this idiot.

  “Whatever. I’ll be there,” I concede. “Now get off my desk and go to work.”

  “My appointment is late. I’ll just hang out until he arrives.”

  “Or, you could give Ox a quick bath. Someone thought it was a great idea to roll around in the mud this morning.”

  Ox groans in exasperation. He hates the word bath almost as much as he despises the man who always gives him one.

  “You filthy little beast,” Cato chides. “Time to get Catoed!”

  As soon as he’s coaxed my lazy mutt upstairs to his pet grooming studio, I let out a heavy sigh, ignoring Brie’s smirk. My phone buzzes and I quickly snatch it up, wondering if it’s Dante. The heat flooding to my dick cools the moment I realize it’s Mom.

  Mom: Imagine my surprise when I went to wake Zak up for school only to realize he’d moved out…

  Irritation burns in my gut. If she would ever stand up to my dad for being such an asshole, maybe her son wouldn’t have had to leave in the first place. Hell, maybe her oldest son could admit he was gay without fear of repercussions.

  Me: It was his third strike at school. Brandon tried calling you both. I figured we’d avoid the huge blowout where you kick him out and get the show on the road.

  Mom: I’m sensing a disrespectful tone, Jax.

  Me: Tone is lost in written text, Mother. I did what ultimately needed to be done. Don’t worry, he’s safe at my place.

  Mom: Lord. He’ll run all over you too just like he’s tried doing to us. This was supposed to be a lesson for him, not a vacation from reality.

  Me: Where did you expect him to go?

  Mom: He wants to act grown, then he should have figured it out himself.

  Me: He’s just a kid.

  Mom: He’s eighteen. At eighteen, you were responsible and mature. Well-behaved. If he keeps being the way he is, you’ll have to use that dusty jail cell of yours at the station. Imagine how embarrassed your father would be then.

  It’s what everything boils down to with the Bells.

  Embarrassing Dad.

  Me: We can discuss this later. Someone just came in.

  Mom: Real quick. How did the date go?

  Me: She’s lovely.

  She sends me a bunch of heart eye emojis, completely over the fact her youngest son has left home and she doesn’t seem to give two shits about it. My phone buzzes again and I almost ignore it until I catch Dante’s name.

  Dante: If a guy wanted to grab lunch and hope to bump into a sexy sheriff, where would he go?

  I glance up at the clock that’s nearing noon and grin as I reply.

  Me: Guys bump into each other all the time at Martha Joy’s. The crunchy Maine clams are the best thing you’ll ever put in your mouth.

  Dante: Hmm, I’ll be the judge of that. I’ve recently had something pretty damn delicious in my mouth.

  My cock stiffens in my jeans.

  Me: You make it very…hard…to work.

  Dante: Which is why you need to break for lunch. My treat.

  I freeze at his words. Sounds an awful lot like a date. And, no matter how much I crave to date a guy like a normal fucking gay man, I know it’s not going to happen.

  Dante: So skittish. I’m not asking you out on a date. I’m asking to bump into you. I swear I’ll keep my hands to myself.

  Me: Sorry…this shit just freaks me out.

  Dante: I know. Meet me there in fifteen. I’ll be the hot one with the chub in his pants because he can’t stop thinking about his secret rendezvous later.

  Jesus, this guy is such a fucking flirt. And dammit, it feels good to be on the receiving end of it. A long time ago, Kian and I had easy banter…

  Before I overthink things and deny myself this feeling, I reply back to him.

  Me: I’ll be the sexy sheriff with a matching chub.

  Dante: They could be twins… Am I right?

  I chuckle and respond back.

  Me: I’m not sure. I’ll have to take a closer look and get back to you.

  Dante: Goddamn you. You made me miss the green light.

  Me: Don’t text and drive, big city man.

  He doesn’t respond, which makes me feel better knowing he’s focusing on the road. I pocket my phone and grab my coat.

  “Where you off to in such a hurry?” Brie asks, her blond brow arched in question. “And why are you smiling like you’re happy? You don’t do happy, Jax.”

  I flip her off. “Go meddle in someone else’s love life.”

  Her eyes widen. “Love life?”

  “I…” I trail off, struggling to correct my error. “Do not repeat that to Cato.”

  She pretends to zip her lips and then giggles. “I’ll expect a full report later, Sheriff.”

  “Not going to happen, Larsen.”

  “Come on,” she complains as I head for the door. “My vagina has cobwebs it’s so dry and abandoned. A girl has to live vicariously through her besties!”

  “I’m sure Cato can regale you with more sordid tales than your vagina can handle. I’ll be back in a bit. Bye, nosy ass.”

  Ignoring whatever else she throws at me, I head outside. It’s a sunny Friday afternoon, but still cold as fuck. My body is burning with the need to see Dante. I’m anxious for this work day to be over with so I can get him into my bed.

  Holy shit.

  The image of Dante naked and beneath me as I
thrust into him is almost too much to handle. I’ve been sex starved for too long. The few women I’ve been with over the years don’t count. I fucked them out of necessity.

  This, I want.

  So fucking badly.

  It’s almost like…

  I cross First Street and then Main, coming to stand right in front of Blur & Focus. A familiar longing tugs at my heart, but I know it’s a lost cause. I ruined what I had with Kian and unless I can be honest with myself and my family, then I’ll never get another chance with him. What Dante offers me is a break from reality. He’s willing to play my fucked-up game and give me a taste of the life I desperately crave. It’s dangerous because I know I’ll grow addicted to the pleasure.

  I’ll only have a taste.

  A few tastes.

  No one gets addicted that easily. It’s called sating an urge. Fulfilling a need. Then, it’s back to business as usual.

  Turning from Kian’s bar & club, I head next door to Martha Joy’s Seafood Restaurant. Just as I’m walking up, a familiar black Range Rover whips into an empty spot. Dante climbs out looking hot as fucking ever. My mouth waters to stride up to him, grab his face, and kiss him until we’re both breathless.

  His maddening smirk says he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

  “Sheriff Bell? Is that you?” he asks, feigning shock. “What a coincidence. Want to join me for lunch and talk official Chamber business?”

  I chuckle. “I think that’s a great idea, Mr. Kincaid.”

  His hazel eyes blaze with heat, sending lust curling deep in my gut. “I like it when you call me Mr. Kincaid.”

  “It’s a good damn thing since that’s your name and all.”

  He laughs, giving me a wink before gesturing for us to go inside. I’m stiff as I walk in behind him. I feel like everyone’s eyes are on me, unpeeling away at me and revealing the truth.

  I’m gay.

  Is it a blinking neon sign above my head?