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Category: Gay Fiction/Romance
Description:

I was looking forward to a relaxing, enjoyable vacation at my parents' old house on the lake. No responsibility, no stress, and no entanglements, other than the odd one-night bang with a gorgeous guy (who preferably dresses left). When a cop pulled over to check on me, I was blindsided. Officer Russell Seavers was an absolute hunk -- and I had to have him. Just once (or maybe twice), but no way was I in the market for anything serious. Just a quick slick grapple by the lake, a hop or two in the sack, and I'd be good. But one look at that body that just didn't quit, oh God, that ass, and those dark, dark eyes, and I was afraid my summer fling might turn into something else, something I didn't expect.

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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [86 KB]
Words: 18931
Reading time: 54-75 min.

"Fuck, why do I bother with this stupid thing?"

I pulled over, turned off the engine, and grabbed my GPS to peer at the screen. "Lost fucking satellite again!"

I knew where I was going, but the road I usually went on was blocked off, and I couldn't quite remember the turnoff to get there from the other side. I whacked the stupid unit and the mechanical voice repeated, "Recalculating. Lost satellite signal."

I glanced up at the clouds in the sky and sighed. It was dusk and getting just dark enough that if I made the wrong turn, I might be wandering around on back roads the entire night.

A flash of blue light caught my attention and in the rearview mirror, I saw a cop car pull up behind mine. "Great, I'll probably get a ticket for loitering without visible means of support," I muttered.

I slumped down in my seat, waiting for the portly mook of an upstate cop to come over to chew me out.

"Everything okay, sir?"

I looked up and my mouth dropped open. "Man, what I wouldn't let you do to me," I muttered.

"What was that?"

I sat up alertly. Did he know how hot he was? "Nothing. Am I doing something wrong?"

He smiled and I melted. Dimples on a man in uniform, I was so dead. I wondered if he had dimples in his ass, too. I caught my fingers flexing involuntarily and grabbed the wheel to give them something to do.

He looked a little wary at my sudden movement. I hadn't noticed it before, but his right hand was hovering by his holster and he held a flashlight in his left as if it were a club. "I don't know. Are you doing something wrong?"

I laughed in a release of nervous tension. "I'm not, but my GPS is. Lost satellite transmission. And when it does work, she changes her mind constantly. If I didn't kind of know where I was, I'd be in Cleveland right about now."

He relaxed a little, which gave me a chance to take inventory of his rugged good looks. He was tanned like he spent a lot of time in the sun, and when he smiled, lines creased the outer edges of his eyes and around his mouth. I couldn't see his eyes because he was wearing the usual aviators even though it was getting dark, but his hair was a glossy dark brown. I licked my lips while he answered.

"Are you trying to get to Cleveland?"

"No, I'm trying to get to Bluebird Lane, but Big Sandy Lane is blocked off."

"Ah, gotcha. Well, if you go on another half mile, you turn left on Little Sandy, take your third left, and you'll hit Big Sandy past the construction. That should do you."

I could think of a few other things that would do me, but I didn't want to get arrested on the first night of my vacation. Or did I? "Thanks, officer--?" I peered at his badge, gleaning only the information that his badge number was 3114.

"You're welcome," he answered.

I wished I could see his eyes, but he was bent over, resting his hands on the roof of my car, so I thought we were on friendlier terms by now.

"So if you just want to give me my ticket..."

"Ticket for what?" He sounded confused. I liked it.

"Whatever statute I violated by not pulling over all the way onto the shoulder," I answered with a grin. "Then maybe we could negotiate it down to a warning?"

The dimples sprang into his cheeks as he grinned, his teeth flashing white in his tanned face. "What did you have in mind?"

"Maybe I could suck your cock?" I was praying that I'd read him right, because if not, I really might be heading to jail, or worse.

"License and registration, please, sir." He took a step back and straightened up to where I couldn't see his face.

I leaned over to pull my wallet from the glove box with a sinking feeling, but when you're a little mouthy, you gotta expect reactions like that when you're on the hunt for dick. I jumped a bit when a car drove by and I saw the lights and shield on the door. Had he called for backup? He gave them the thumbs up and they drove by, but he took my license anyway.

I slid down in my seat staring through the windshield.

"J.D. Andrews? What's the J.D. stand for?"

"Jack Daniels," I said sulkily.

He laughed. "Your parents must have had a weird sense of humor."

"I lucked out. My brother got stuck with Hiram Walker. I go by J.D."

"I don't blame you. Must be hell in bars." He handed back my paperwork. "Well, Mr. Andrews, I wasn't planning on giving you a ticket, but you know us backwoods cops. We can always trump up some charges with little or no provocation. So why don't we just cut straight to the negotiations. You want to suck my cock, and I like that idea. How about we go wherever you were headed and get to it?"

I brightened right up. A ticket or a night in jail would have been such a bummer, and in spite of the uniform, I could tell he had the kind of build that always got my motor running, and he dressed left. My absolute favorite, closely followed by men who dressed right. "Why don't we just step off the road?" I suggested.

"Or we could go to your place."

"I don't even know your name. What if you're an axe murderer?"

He busted up laughing. "Well, you're certainly safer in the lonely woods with an axe murderer than you would be in a house with a phone. You didn't ask for my name when you offered to suck me off."

"Okay, maybe this wasn't such a smart idea," I grumbled.

He took off his glasses. His eyes were deep velvety brown, with long lashes and strongly marked brows. His laugh lines softened his square jaw as he spoke. "Russell. Russ Seavers. And I'm really a cop, not an axe murderer in disguise."

Guiltily I thought about my parents. Not that they were at the cabin, but what if Officer Seavers came by some time looking for me? "The offer is limited time only. Next fifteen minutes or no deal."

"You are one tough negotiator," he said with a smirk. "Okay, follow me. I know a place."

He walked back to his car and I ogled the rolling of his buttocks every step of the way. The way the gun belt sat right down on his rounded cheeks....

After he started his car and pulled around me, I followed him. He led the way to a little picnic area by a creek. It was getting pretty late and no one was around, so I pulled up next to his car and got out wearing a cocky grin. I fully intended to push him back against his car and sink to my knees. I couldn't wait to taste his cock.

For the first time, I felt a little hit of danger off him. He grabbed my upper arms and walked me back against a big oak. I could feel the scratch of the bark bite through my shirt as he pressed me against the trunk. His grip was like iron and I could tell that he knew how to handle me.

Then his mouth descended against mine, his tongue gentle as he licked the line of my lips. I gave a little whimper and let my head fall back against the tree as I opened up to him.

He knew how to kiss.

My knees were like overcooked noodles when he pressed his hard body against mine, his thigh pushing my legs apart. I rode his leg, rubbing myself against him and shaking like I was in heat or something. His hands were still on my arms, which were hanging limp at my sides, and believe me, that wasn't like me. You put a tasty treat like this guy in front of me and normally I grabbed for seconds.

But I was blindsided with lust, he just felt so damn good against me, and he wouldn't stop kissing me. He let go of one of my arms and I reached blindly around him, cupping the curve of his ass and digging my fingers into his admirable cheek. Lunges for sure.

I gasped and jumped when I felt his hand at my throat, the thumb rubbing a tiny circle in the dip at the base of my throat. His hand slid down the length of my body, leaving tingles all the way. He stopped teasingly at my belt and I bucked my hips against his, wanting more.

At last I felt his fingers, tracing the outline of my cock outside my jeans. I moaned into his mouth, wanting nothing more than to feel his hand on my skin, but he had other ideas. He just caressed me gently, never giving me enough to get off, just enough to tantalize and titillate.

Two can play at that game, and I pulled my other arm free, reaching for the bulge that distended his trousers in front. With my hand flat on his cock, I lifted one leg and wrapped it around his thigh, pulling him closer.

If it weren't for the tree, we'd have been on the ground. The heat between us crackled like summer lightning and I'm surprised I didn't see the sparks. We were moaning and humping against each other with no thought for how this was going to end, which could only be the laundry room, because neither of us could operate zippers or buttons any more. Any blood supply had fled south, leaving our brains to limp along on backup batteries.

I gave it up first, wrenching my mouth away from his and uttering a strangled groan as I came in my pants like a fucking teenager. I sagged against the tree and he pushed against me, rabbiting his hips against my thigh, riding me in search of his release. He thrust against me so hard when he came I thought he might knock the tree down.

He leaned against me, his chest heaving. In the moonlight, I could see a droplet of sweat trail down his cheek to his neck. Without thinking, I put my tongue out and licked it. Salty. Good.

At last he pushed himself off me and stared at me in the dim light, as if he was trying to memorize my face. "That was fucking hot," he said. "See you around, J.D."

I laughed at the wet spot on the front of his pants, even though I was in the same boat. "Should have taken my original offer," I pointed out. "Won't the boys back at the station laugh at you?"

"I'm off duty anyhow," he said. "And who knows? I could always write you a ticket another day, so maybe you should stay on your toes." He unbuttoned one button on his shirt so I knew he was feeling the heat too. "Take it easy."

He turned and walked to his car while I stood there and admired his walk. He had that easy athletic gait, almost like the prowl of a big cat. It made me shiver a little, even though the humid air retained the heat of the day. I wondered if I'd made a mistake, but what were the odds that I'd ever see him again?

I followed his car back to the road and he turned in the same direction I was going. When we reached the turn off for Little Sandy Lane, he flashed his lights once and pointed out the window. I flashed my lights in thanks and turned off. He kept going.

His directions were easy. My parents had been coming up to this lake since I was a kid, and I never realized that Little Sandy Lane led right onto Big Sandy Lane. Of course, when I was a kid and my parents were driving, I never paid attention to where we were going. Being the middle kid, I was too busy fighting for survival between my brother and sister in the back seat.

But I could have recognized the turnoff to Bluebird Lane in my sleep. With a nostalgic smile, I remembered how eager we all were to get to the cabin, out of the car and into the lake.

My parents' cabin was on Star Pond, a little cove off a bigger lake, named for the five points where different creeks emptied into it. The big lake had waves, not as big as the ocean, but it could be choppy. Star Pond was calmer, although the currents ran deep and strong. It still took a good twenty minutes to canoe across but it was a lot smaller than the big lake.

The shimmer of the moon on the water was my only guide as I turned down the dirt road. Pine trees grew tall and dense all around the cabin, and of course, no lights were on since no one was there.

When I turned off the engine, at first the silence was overwhelming, but then I started to hear all the familiar little noises of the lake: the lap of the waves at the dock, the twang of a bullfrog, the hum of cicadas. It was all just the same and yet everything had changed.

I stretched my back as I got out of the car, scratching at the wet spot on my jeans. I carried my bag and a cooler inside, dumping everything in the kitchen. My mom had had a washer put in the back hall when we were kids because she said she was pissed that she got to spend her vacation in the Laundromat in town while we were having fun. I undressed directly into the washer, then opened the back door and walked naked down to the dock.

The water was warm when I slid into it. I loved skinny-dipping at night, not just for the feel of the water against my skin and the goose bumps when I got out, but also because of one memorable night when a summer kid named Jerry went swimming with me naked one year.

He wasn't a regular, which is maybe why it happened. It was the first time I understood the urges that seemed so mysterious to me at fourteen. We were in the water and I edged closer to him, so close that his hand brushed my dick. I almost went under, it was such a fantastic feeling. He apologized and pulled away immediately, but I was incoherent with delight.

It was then I knew I was a fairy, that dreaded epithet that once you were branded with it, you were doomed. But I didn't feel doomed, I felt free. Finally I knew what was wrong with me and it felt so right.

I dove under the water, feeling that sense of ultimate cleansing that you can't get in a shower. When I surfaced I pulled myself up on the dock and crossed my legs, sitting there naked. I shivered, but I wasn't ready to go in yet. My mind was blank; I just drank in the loveliness of the night.

My hand went to my dick and I stroked myself off thinking about my encounter with that hot cop. Then I went inside and went to sleep.