Morelli leaned back against the tiled shower wall, head lolling, his fingers clamped around the top of the glass partition. Every once in a while he glanced down and saw the top of Ranger’s dark head bobbing slightly as he took Morelli into his mouth. The long dark hair was loose from its ponytail and flowed down Ranger’s smooth back. Hot water glistened on their skin and steam from the shower cloaked the stall and room beyond in a dense cloud.
Ranger’s mouth was warm and his tongue wicked and Morelli wriggled his hips in appreciation of both. Ranger lifted his head, a slightly depraved smile on his face, and Morelli thought, not for the first time, that the bounty hunter was bat-shit crazy. But it didn’t matter to Morelli when Ranger was down on his knees like that. During those moments Joe Morelli the Italian Trenton Cop ceased to exist.
He could see Ranger’s cock bobbing between the bounty hunter’s thighs and he felt a deeper appreciation for the turmoil he knew Stephanie experienced every time she came into contact with her mentor. Morelli felt the same turmoil; heavily spiked with jealousy.
Reaching down, he pulled Ranger up, letting their wet, slick bodies slide together, until he could take Ranger in his arms and pull him close. He was a little taller than Ranger, but not so much taller that their groins did rub together.
Ranger placed his hands on Morelli’s shoulders, shoving him hard against the tiles, and pressed his lips firmly to the cop’s. His tongue wriggled smoothly into Morelli’s mouth, dancing and teasing with the cop’s tongue while their hips did their own erotic dance. Both men were hard and aching, but neither man was willing to give in and so they sought dominance--with neither side gaining ground.
At last Morelli grabbed the soap, the special kind purchased by Ranger’s housekeeper, and slathered his fist. Reaching between their bodies, he took Ranger in his palm. His lips twisted into a crooked, wicked smile as he watched Ranger’s dark eye grow even darker, like a candy bar melting in the sun. Warm, equally soapy hands fondled his balls and he moaned, burying his face in Ranger’s shoulder.
Somewhere a phone rang. A pager beeped. Those sounds were far away and far removed from the urgent need spiraling through both men.
Soap-coated hands worked frantically and hips twitched and twisted. Cop and bounty hunter moaned and hissed and sank teeth into flushed, tender skin. Strands of Ranger’s long hair plastered Morelli’s chest, laying nicely alongside a love-bite over his nipple.
By the time the two had stopped trembling, the water had grown cold. They stood locked in an embrace, neither noticing the goose bumps on their flesh, swaying in languid aftermath while the cold water washed away soap and other traces of their afternoon.
Until pounding on the bathroom door interrupted their quiet reverie. No one entered Ranger‘s private sanctuary uninvited, never mind that no one who was marginally sane pounded on his doors. Ranger swung open the stall door while Morelli shut off the water and pressed himself back against the tiles. Ranger’s Merry Men knew he was there and how often he visited, but not the extent of the activities within the private space.
Ranger thrust open the door with a scowl and encountered Cal, red-faced and panicked. “Stephanie is in the elevator. We called down--”
“Shit!” Morelli exploded and leapt from the shower.
Cal’s eyes opened wider and sweat popped out on his bald dome, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
“Return to the command center,” Ranger calmly ordered, his brain already working over time, plotting and planning with military precision, every detail of how to best minimize the damage.
With lightening speed he donned black cargo pants and tight t-shirt and pulled back his hair. Morelli struggled into his jeans and, after a glance at his pager, realized Stephanie had paged him twice and called his cell once. “She probably think I’m with Terry Gilliam.”
Ranger slipped his feet into his boots. “Poor Terry.”“Yeah. If they only knew.”
A knock on the apartment door caused both men to freeze. Morelli looked around, as desperate as Bob after eating a pizza carton, and dashed for the closet.
“Good thinking,” Ranger laughed as he pulled the bedroom door closed.