On Duty Page 16

  “It was bizarre.” Connie grabbed a bag of Fritos. “I mean, you should have seen him when Aunt Sheila had her kid—cool as a cucumber—and he practically delivered the brat in the back of the taxi. Grandma and Grandpa were so proud. That’s when he started talking about going to medical school.”

  Sammy blinked in surprise. “Alex went to med school?”

  Connie kicked him in the shin. Hard. It looked painful. Then she went back to eating corn chips. Troy made a mental note to stay on her good side. He had enough bruises already. He didn’t need any more inflicted by a helpful Tate relative.

  The door to the hospital room swung open and Troy grinned. A nurse. Finally, he’d get some sanity. Except the woman who marched in wasn’t wearing scrubs, and her hair was a perfect match for Connie’s wheat-colored curls. She smiled. “You’re awake!”

  Troy glared at Connie. “Let me guess, your aunt?”

  “Her mother,” the blonde lookalike said. This Tate was in her late thirties with wear lines around her eyes. Her clothes were comfortable, a pink T-shirt and a pair of faded jeans. “LeeAnne Tate-Collins. You’re the one dating my little brother.”

  Troy was on Tate overload. “We’re not dating.”

  “That’s not the way he tells it.”

  Sammy put down his book. “How are you feeling? Should I find your doctor?”

  “Not a chance.” Connie was firm. “You’re still injured. I’ll do it.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “If you’re fine, what are you still doing in the hospital?”

  “Alex and I are finding him a place to stay,” Troy interrupted, louder this time.

  “We’ve got plenty of room.” Connie looked to her mother for encouragement.

  LeeAnne laughed. “If you’re willing to sleep on the couch, sure.”

  “We could share.”

  Sammy’s skin matched his cherry sweater. Another minute and he might actually die of embarrassment.

  Troy might not be able to get out of bed, but he could still rescue the teenager. He cleared his throat. “It doesn’t matter. Not unless you’re a foster parent.”

  The blondes frowned. They considered for a long minute, then LeeAnne smiled. “What about Crystal?” She pulled her cell phone out and thumbed through it. “She’s our cousin. Her husband’s brother’s an asshole and his ex-girlfriend’s even worse. He went to jail for six months last year. Crystal ended up with the kids. She had to jump through all sorts of hoops to get certified.”

  Sammy half came out of his seat. He tried to look uninterested and failed. “You think she might be interested?”

  “One-time deal,” Connie said. “The kids drove her nuts.”

  If they’d raised Sammy’s hopes up only to smack them down again, Troy was going to hit someone. Even if it meant crawling out of the hospital bed and breaking his arm a second time.

  LeeAnne elbowed her daughter in the side before Troy could make his move. “They were in preschool.” She patted Sammy on the arm. “You’re practically grown up. You’ve got a personality. I bet she’d do it, and she’s got room. They bought that fancy house last year.” Her fingers flew across the cell phone’s screen. “I’m texting her.”

  The door opened and Alex walked in. He must have come right from shift change. He was wearing the same clothes he’d had on that morning, a navy blue sweatshirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. His hair was still wet from the firehouse showers. His expression was intense. Right up until his eyes met Troy’s, then he smiled.

  The talking started all over again. “Hold it.” Troy put up a hand. “One at a time.”

  “He woke up five minutes ago,” LeeAnne said. “You didn’t tell me he was hot.”

  “I don’t know why you called Mom.” Connie glared at her uncle. “Sammy and I were doing fine by ourselves. Anyway, he seems fine. I don’t think his arm’s hurt that bad.” She poked Troy in the side.

  Troy whimpered like a schoolboy.

  “It’s broken in two places.” Alex batted her away before she could do any more damage. “They’re waiting to see if they need to put pins in it.”

  “How do you know that?” Troy asked.

  Three sets of blue eyes skillfully avoided meeting his.

  Alex broke first. “I know a lot of the nurses around here, and when I told them we were together they were happy to share.”

  Together. It was a nice thought, but Troy didn’t believe it for a second. Alex needed time to think. He deserved it, no matter how much Troy wanted it to be true.

  LeeAnne’s phone buzzed. Her smile broadened as she read off the screen. “Crystal’s got a deposition. She has to work late, but Roger will be here in twenty minutes.”

  Alex blinked in surprise. “You called Crystal and Roger because Troy broke his arm?”

  “For Sammy,” Connie explained. She smiled at Sammy. “You’ll like them. Roger’s a chef, and Crystal’s a lawyer for some big company downtown. Last year, they bought a house down the street.”

  Sammy gulped. “I’m going to be your neighbor?” It was hard to tell whether he found the idea exciting or terrifying. Probably a little bit of both.

  “Let’s give these guys some privacy. Come on, let’s go to the coffee shop.” LeeAnne shooed the teens out of the room.

  Troy shifted nervously. “What did you mean by ‘together’? Like friends with benefits?”

  “No.” For a second it looked like Alex was going to bolt. Then his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. He swallowed hard. “Friends with benefits don’t have access to medical information. I told them we were boyfriends.”

  “You don’t have to lie for me—”

  “That’s not...” Alex squirmed for a second. “I wasn’t lying.” He bent to skim his lips against Troy’s. “You were right. You’re not a benefit. You’re the whole damn enchilada.”

  The kiss was so damn soft, like butterfly wings or dewdrops. It shouldn’t have been able to rock Troy to his core. Damn. His heart thump-thumped against his chest. Pain seared his insides as he reached out with his good arm to pull Alex in close.

  This kiss wasn’t soft at all. It was hard and desperate and needy. Alex took everything he had and gave it right back to him. It was wonderful.

  And Troy wanted more.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Troy was in the hospital for twenty-eight hours from intake to release. It felt like an eternity, even with Alex at his side and random Tate family members stopping in to hear the latest gossip. A cousin had eloped over the weekend.

  It was a major scandal.

  Troy almost felt sorry for the couple, until he realized the same massive intelligence network was probably spreading the word about his relationship with Alex too.

  Then he just felt sorry for himself.

  When the doctors finally signed the paperwork saying Troy was free to go, he didn’t give them time to second-guess themselves. His bunker gear went in a bag provided by the nurses. His feet started moving toward the door. They hadn’t needed to put any pins in his arm after all, but the cast was going to stay on for at least six weeks. At least this time he had clean clothes that Connie’d brought him.

  “You doing okay?” Alex asked.

  The painkillers made him fuzzy. His arm was completely immobilized. He couldn’t wear his new jacket. Alex had brought him a battered old sweatshirt for the walk home. “I’m fine.”

  “That’s what you told the doctors. I don’t think they believed it either.” Alex had to stretch his legs to match Troy’s stride. “You don’t like hospitals.”

  “It’s not too bad with company.” Not that he was going to stick around one minute longer than necessary. “In the army, people go into the hospital and sometimes they don’t come back. There might be a toast afterward, but no one really talks about it
. And if you’re the guy on the gurney? No one comes to visit you. You break a bone—shatter a couple ribs—and all you can do is hope the medical staff is halfway decent. Hope they don’t forget about you.”

  “Is that what happened to you?”

  “Once or twice.”

  The hospital doors opened and they stepped outside. Fresh air. Black skies. Twinkling lights. Night in New York City. Taxi cabs jittered by on the streets. The subway station was two blocks north. The apartment was less than two miles away.

  Troy concentrated on walking.

  “Aren’t you tired?” Alex asked.

  “Not really.” He’d been napping on and off for most of the past twenty-eight hours, stuck in that damn hospital bed. His feet itched. He needed to move, to walk off some of his energy.

  He didn’t stop walking until they got through the front door of the apartment. His gear hit the ground. “Damn.” He slumped back onto the daybed. “I smell like ass.”

  “You smell fine.”

  “I smell like sweat and smoke and hospital antiseptic.” He lifted his good arm and sniffed. Definitely ass. “This wasn’t how I imagined it.”

  “Getting out of the hospital? It’s better than last time, right?”

  True. He was warm and comfortable. No one was kicking him out of his home. Alex was puttering around in the kitchen, pots and pans clanking and clinking. “You told the doctors you’re my boyfriend.”

  “I told you that you’re my boyfriend.”

  Heat expanded low in his belly. That wasn’t exactly how he remembered it. “I could get used to this, but it’s still not how I imagined being boyfriends. Hospital stays and smelling bad. I thought it’d be you, me, a little mood lighting, some Marvin Gaye—”

  “You don’t actually listen to Marvin Gaye.”

  “—some Marvin Gaye and edible lube.”

  “Do you have any edible lube?”

  “I don’t have any lube at all.”

  “It’s a crying shame.” Alex wiped his hands against his jeans. “I’ve got lube,” he offered. “No Marvin Gaye, but if you hum a few bars I can put on Charlie Puth.” His eyes were twinkling. His hair was pushed over onto the left side of his head. He’d slept on it wrong at the hospital and hadn’t bothered to fix it during the interim.

  He probably smelled like ass too.

  “We should take a shower together.”

  The grin on Alex’s face deserved to be registered as a nuclear weapon. It was that explosive.

  “Hospitals and smelling bad. That’s what a relationship is all about. It’s having someone to depend on during the bad times. Not Marvin Gaye and edible lube.”

  “Does that mean you don’t want to take a shower?”

  Alex considered for a long moment. His eyes gleamed. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were kissably pink. For the first time since they’d walked through the door his hands were still. “Take off your clothes.”

  Yes, please. Troy kicked off his shoes and shimmied his pants to the ground. He’d gone hard the first time Alex said “lube,” and now his cock flexed against his boxer briefs.

  The T-shirt was going to take a little bit more work. Alex had helped him put it on, but he wasn’t stepping forward to offer a hand now. He grabbed the hem with his good hand. Muscles screamed in his shoulders.

  Pain cleared the last puff of fog from his mind. He concentrated. Hard. It took every ounce of focus to get the shirt over his head and around the heavy plaster cast on his arm.

  There was a rustling sound from the kitchen. When he looked up, Alex was holding a plastic bag. His mouth went dry. He lifted an eyebrow. “Kinky?”

  That earned him an eye roll. “It’s for the cast. It’s not waterproof.”

  “Good idea.” Troy stood and walked across the apartment, putting a little wiggle in his walk. Damn. His hip stung. He had a series of bruises on his left side from where he’d landed against the stairs. The stitches from the warehouse fire still itched.

  He sighed. “I’m tired of getting blown up.”

  “Uh-huh.” Alex’s touch was light as he tied the bag carefully around the cast. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

  “Ian needs to get off his ass and arrest someone.” Troy’s brain buzzed. “It’s got to be someone with a connection to all the different locations.”

  “Or a connection to the firehouse.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The arson only happens inside your response zone, and it only happens when you’re on duty—”

  “Me and half a dozen other guys who share the same shift rotation.” Troy hadn’t thought of that possibility before. His erection wilted. What if the arson was related to the firefighters on duty? Was someone trying to hurt him? It was impossible. He might not be the friendliest guy in the world, but he didn’t have any enemies.

  What about Luke?

  Or Hoyt?

  Or Captain Tracey, whose knock-down drag-out divorces were legendary inside the department?

  “No,” he denied, but there was a wobble in his voice. He cleared his throat. “It’s not possible.” Hairs were standing up on the back of his neck. In the army, he’d faced hailstorms of bullets and long-distance snipers. There’d been hundreds of fires over the years, maybe even thousands. Some of them had been bad—really bad—but none of them had been set for him specifically.

  Fear tugged at his insides. Not just for himself but for the men and woman he’d served beside for the past six years. “I’ll text Ian in the morning, tell him what you think. Maybe it’ll even help.” He tugged at Alex’s shirt. “Right now, it’s our job to get clean—so we can get dirty again.”

  “Okay.”

  With Troy’s cast covered, they fumbled their way into the bathroom. Alex stripped off his clothes while the water heated up. All that naked skin helped Troy bury the fear so far deep inside him he’d need a backhoe to find it. Blood flowed downward to flood his cock.

  “Someone’s happy to see me.” Nimble fingers shoved Troy’s boxers to the ground. “Get in.” He pushed him just enough to get Troy moving. They climbed into the shower.

  Water poured over their bodies. It plastered Alex’s hair to his head and spilled across his skin. He looked delicious. His cheeks were flushed, and his toenails were painted an electric pink. All Troy wanted to do was wrap his arms tight around Alex and—

  Troy’s arm throbbed.

  Damn, it hurt.

  He wasn’t about to cry uncle...not when they were both wet and naked.

  Long fingers circled Troy’s good wrist and drew him in close. Alex’s smile was bright, mischievous. His touch was light—Troy could pull away if he wanted—but his intentions were clear. He stepped forward until their bodies were grinding against each other.

  A dollop of body wash, and the grinding turned into slipping and sliding. Soap suds exploded between them and Troy’s skin tingled. The scent was dark and woodsy. He swallowed hard and the sound of Alex’s needy gasping replaced his own. Good to know he wasn’t the only one feeling the heat between them.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Whatever you want. This is all about you.”

  “I seem to recall the last time being all about me too.”

  “Trust me. I had fun.” Soft lips descended against Troy’s neck. Alex kissed his way softly down to his collarbone before nipping at his skin. “You sure you’re not too tired for this? We could go to bed. Get comfy. It doesn’t have to be tonight.”

  “Fuck that.” Adrenaline surged through Troy’s body. He stepped forward, pushing Alex back against the cold tile wall. His cast knocked awkwardly against the shower door. The dull throb was replaced by a sharp radiating pain.

  A lesser man would have screamed, but Troy couldn’t stop touching Alex’s velvety skin.
His free hand made its way across lean muscles. His hips thrust hard. He kneaded Alex’s tight ass between his fingers.

  “I don’t want to get comfy. I want sex and sweetness and a hundred other things. I want to celebrate life. I want—” This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. In his fantasies, Alex didn’t need reassurances, but this was real life. “I want you.”

  “You want me to be in control?” Another sharp nip against his skin. “To tell you what to do? Like I said, the other night was fun, but I’m not Ian. I’m not just another jerk who treats you like one of his toys. What do you want? My mouth? My ass?”

  Troy sucked in a breath. “You’ve got a great ass.” Firm, plump, with a curve like a roller coaster.

  “Is that what you want?”

  It wasn’t something he’d considered, but now he couldn’t get the thought out of his mind. Alex, needy and slick, waiting for him to push inside. All that pressure and heat. Troy’s cock throbbed.

  It would be fun...some other time.

  “That’s not something I’ve done a lot.”

  “But you want to?”

  “Tonight, I want you inside me,” he said quietly. “I want you to hold me down and fuck me like you mean it.”

  Alex grinned. “I’ll always mean it.” There was a short pause. “Turn off the water.”

  Troy did as he was told.

  The pipes rattled loudly. The water cut off. Alex reached out and grabbed a towel from the rod on the wall. Fluffy cotton encircled him. Alex tugged him out of the bathroom’s foggy interior. His nails caught in the plastic bag around his cast and tugged it open. He checked the interior. “Still dry.”

  “You do good work.”

  “Damn straight.” Alex pushed him the rest of the way into the bedroom.

  Troy backed into the bed. He sat down. He was the only one with a towel. Water dripped off Alex onto the hardwood floor. Not that it mattered. There was a freckle an inch south of Alex’s belly button. A constellation of tiny dots coated his hip.

  Alex’s cock was long and slender, nestled in a cushion of blond hair. It dug into his belly as he reached past Troy to retrieve a bottle of lube and a condom from the nightstand. Snick. The bottle opened. Slippery lube slid out onto his palm. He reached down to nudge Troy’s knees apart, sliding his hand slowly across his thigh.