CRISS CROSS - PSYCOP #2 - EXCERPT

The shower curtain rustled as Jacob slid in behind me. His chest pressed into my back and he wrapped his arms around my middle. “Morning,” he purred.

My cock stirred a little at the feel of a big, hot body behind me, but the pain in my head was more insistent than my groin was. “Hey,” I said, and clapped my soapy hands over his to keep them north of the border.

He seemed to pick up on my body language, the way he picks up on everything; he massaged my shoulders, not my cock, as the hot water tumbled over me. “I’m looking at a condo on the lake today,” he said. “Why don’t you come with me?”

“To make sure it’s clean?”

“Clean is good,” he said, and his soapy hands slid down my back, grazed my ass, then slipped back up to work the knots out of my shoulders again. His voice was light and teasing, and I wondered if he was angling to move in together --for real, and not just a temporary, stopgap arrangement.

Jacob nuzzled my wet hair aside and dragged his lips along the back of my neck. My cock started swelling. “Roger’s picking me up,” I said.

Jacob’s lips lingered for a moment, then his hands gave my shoulders a squeeze and he pulled away, reaching for the shampoo. “I could’ve given you a ride.”

I felt guilty for not having asked him, but it was just far too gay to have my boyfriend dropping me off at the precinct. “It’s your day off.” I turned to face him, since it felt too weaselly to lie with my back to him. He seemed fine, concentrating on soaping up his hair.

I rinsed off and slipped out of the shower, and found a week-old towel in the hamper. I left the clean one for Jacob. He climbed out a minute later, water beaded on his olive skin, muscles rippling...with red scratches criss-crossing his thighs.

“What’s that?”

He glanced down. “Don’t you remember your own handiwork?”

I squinted at the marks. They looked almost as if they’d been made deliberately, like Xs. “Um. No.”

He grinned and dried himself off lazily, flexing for me all the while. “Right before you jerked off last night, you got a little rough.”

I did? I stared at his thighs. They were just scratches. But still. It really didn’t seem like something I’d do, even buzzed. I considered kissing them as some sort of penance, but if I knelt down in front of him on the bathroom floor I’d be asking for a big naked porno scene for Roger to stumble into. I shuddered at the thought.

Buy Criss Cross in ebook at JCP Books.com

Criss Cross is also part of the print collection PsyCop: Partners