Free Murder and Mayhem by Rhys Ford Page B

on the shin. Pulling back, he threw his hands up in surrender. “Fine. Fuck you. You want to turn into a chicharrón , go right ahead. Just make sure you leave me that fucking stuffed fox in your will.”
    “I hate that damned thing,” Archibald muttered, hobbling toward the library door.
    “Yeah, I plan on shoving it into your coffin right before they toss you into the dirt.” Rook sneered at his grandfather’s back. “Let Rosa get the nurse.”
    “Fine… fine. Call the fucking nurse. See if I care.” The elderly man shook off his housekeeper’s hand from his arm. “Just don’t get yourself into too much trouble while I’m gone, or I’m not going to be the only one sitting in a dirty hole before too long.”
    Dante waited until the man left the room before turning to face Rook. “Charming man. I see where you get your winning personality.”
    “Cute.” Stevens sidestepped the folded-up rug to fill two cups with coffee. After handing one to Dante, he added cream and sugar to his, then took a taste. “So, wait for the crimson Sasquatch you brought with you, or do you want to get right into it?”
    Dante took the cup from Stevens only to set it down on a table. “You and I need to have a talk about—that night. In the club.”
    “ That’s got you worried?” He shrugged smoothly. “What about it? We were having a good time, then bam, lights on, and neither one of us finished. Pretty much all there is to say. Worried I’ll spill the beans you weren’t at peak performance?”
    Stevens studied him over the edge of the mug, his ocean-sky gaze curiously wary behind his shroud of dark hair. He said nothing, waiting for Dante to make his next move, so Dante plunged forward, wary of his partner lingering out in the hallway.
    Grabbing Stevens by the arm, Dante pulled him closer. “It’s already on my record. I told Internal Affairs about it, but I don’t know if my captain knows, but he will soon—”
    “Look, even after all the shit you tried to drag me through, you should know I’m not that kind of person. I don’t fuck with other people’s lives like that,” Stevens said quietly, his voice low and soft between them. “And I am never going to out you that way. Even if everyone on the goddamn police force knows. What happened there at the club was just something between us. Nothing to do with you being a cop and me being… well, me. If anyone finds out about it, it’s not going to be from me. I promise you that much.”
    “LAPD knows I’m gay.” Dante tried ignoring the strength he felt in Stevens’s arm and the delicious masculine scent of freshly showered skin and vanilla soap. It was bad enough he’d pulled the man close enough to feel Stevens’s breath on his face and see the slick moisture he’d left behind on his upper lip as he licked off a stray drop of coffee from his sip. He wanted to trace where Stevens’s tongue had been and follow it back to where it lay in wait. “They just don’t all know I almost fucked a suspect. And while I intend to keep it that way, if it comes out, it comes out. Just warning you.”
    “That was then. This is now. You’re not planning on fucking me, and if you do, let me know so I can avoid it.” Stevens hissed a bit when Dante tightened his grip. “Because you’re a complication I don’t need, Montoya. A fucking hot complication I’d love to slide down into my throat and up my ass, but still, not one I need. So either let go, or I’m going to make a mess of your pants with this coffee.”
    He really didn’t know whether or not to believe Stevens. Not consciously. Yet some part of Dante’s mind knew Stevens was serious about keeping his mouth shut. For all of his lying and thieving, Stevens had an honesty about him, an odd moral code probably only he understood but lived and breathed by.
    Dante knew the power in the man’s body, muscles and sinew hidden under loose shirts, but he’d felt Stevens’s strength under his hands. He’d only had