Screw Your Apology

Day looked at God’s weak-assed apology text. Day didn’t care about a fucking text. He wanted God here on his knees begging for forgiveness. After Jax told him that God was fine and he looked very sorry for what he’d done, Day could think about nothing else.

Tomorrow was Saturday. Usually he and God would go work out, sometimes go to the shooting range, they’d do whatever they felt like doing. Then in the evening Day would cook and God would do or fix whatever Day needed him to around the house.

Damn, when I think about it, we sound so damn domesticated already.

Day tried to do things to keep him from going crazy with thoughts. He was an insomniac. It was only midnight now, what the hell could he do—short of taking sleeping pills—to calm himself enough to sleep.

“Fuck it. I’m not going to sit around here waiting like some lovesick girl who got dismissed by her guy. There’s plenty of dick in the sea.” Day lifted one brow at what he’d just said. “That made no sense.”

Day showered and shaved as quickly as possible. He put a little product in his hair and ran his hands through it to make it look perfectly messy. He wore his well-worn, tight jeans and a button-down, tan collared shirt. He applied a small amount of cologne—Day never liked men that over did it with fragrances. He put his cell phone in his back pocket, his 9mm in the small of his back, and tucked his badge on the inside of his coat.

Day opened up his garage and straddled his Harley, revving the engine a few times to relish the vibration between his legs before he took off into the night in search of some fun. Day got on the interstate and opened her up, doing ninety miles per hour toward midtown. There was a cool sports bar on Piedmont that catered to men with specific sexual preferences. There wasn’t a night Day went that he didn’t get lucky.

Day parked his bike with all the other crotch rockets and strolled toward the entrance. He could hear the loud cheering on the inside before he even got to the door. He quickly shook hands with the familiar bouncer at the front and opened the large wood door. The crowd was rowdy and the party was in full swing.

Some people were dancing to the soft rock that blasted from the large speakers in the corner. Others were playing pool while watching various sports on the multitude of flat screens positioned around the bar. Day ignored those activities. Duff's was only open until two so that meant he had one hour to secure his date for the evening. There was a hotel by the hour just up the street, Day didn’t even have to move his bike if he didn’t want to.

He perched next to a man that from the back had a very small frame, tight waist, and bubble ass. When Day ordered his Coors Light draft, the man turned fully and looked in his direction. He gave the man a slight wink and watched those glossy lips curve up into a seductive smile. Lip-gloss didn’t really turn Day on but it usually got wiped off while he was receiving head, so no big deal. The guy was cute though. Sweet, doe-like brown eyes, his hair was spiky with dark roots and blonde tips.

“What you drinking, cutie?” Day asked the petite fake-blond.

“A hard banger,” he responded while licking his lips.

Day resisted the urge to laugh in his face, because if he did that might ruin his chance at a hard banger.

“Want another?” Day asked with plenty of pun intended.

“Wouldn’t mind at all,” he replied.

Day ordered another fruit concoction for… “What’s your name, beautiful?” Day asked.

He watched those brown eyes roll to the right before his mouth finally responded. “Mick. Most people call me Mick.”

“Sure, we’ll go with Mick. It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me your real name.” Day watched the man closely for more signs. When Mick responded to Day’s question, his eyes went up and to the right, and since Mick was right-handed, Day concluded that he was lying. Day always looked for unconscious movements people made. It was why he was such a good detective. He didn’t miss a thing… usually.

Mick giggled like a girl before answering, “It’s not that, I just don’t like to be called Michelangelo, so I tell everyone my name is Mick. But to be honest you can call me whatever the hell you want. You can also call me ready to get out of here.”

Damn. I’d probably tell people to call me Mick too. Who the hell names their kid Michelangelo?

“I might take you up on that, Mick, but do you mind if I have a couple of drinks first?”

“Not at all.” He watched Mick slide off his stool with the grace of a cheetah and attach himself to Day’s right side. “And you are?”

Mick smelled like lavender and vanilla. Day wasn't an aftershave kind of guy, but he’d take what was offered tonight. Anything to stop him thinking about the big guy that had thrown him around like a ragdoll this morning. Stop thinking about him.

Day ordered three shots of vodka and another beer. The bartender lined up his shots and he downed each one in quick succession.

“Hey, slow down, cowboy.” Mick laughed.

Day wanted to tell the man to shut up. He didn’t know his plight. He was in love with his best friend and partner, but he wasn’t loved back. Mick should be glad that he wasn’t shitfaced already.

“My name is Leo,” he finally answered Mick’s question.

Day snaked his arm around the tiny waist and let the man nuzzle the side of his neck. He could hear him taking long whiffs of his cologne.

“You like the way I smell, honey?” Day asked, already feeling the liquor.

In answer, Mick wiggled a little closer and Day let his hand slide down to that tight ass. He gave it a firm squeeze, and Mick released a quick exhale against his neck.

“You smell delicious. I want to know if you smell like that everywhere. How long you gonna make me wait, big daddy?” Mick whispered with a slight slur.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

Suddenly, Day wasn’t in the mood. Just that damn quick, Mick had turned him off. Day didn’t want lip-gloss and silly innuendos. He wanted his alpha stud. He wanted to be thrown down on the bed and handled. Day ignored the insistent whining from Mick and ordered another beer. After a couple gulps he was more than feeling a buzz. Day looked at his sports watch. 1:25 a.m. It’s now or never. He gave Mick another once-over before responding with an indifferent shrug. “Let’s go, Mick.”

Mick clapped his hands together and squealed like a pig, and it almost made Day decide he wasn't worth it. He hoped the man’s moans were a tad more masculine.

Day held Mick by the hand as they made their way through the crowd and out the front door. He gave a quick nod in the direction of the hotel, letting the bouncer know he’d be back in an hour to get his bike. This definitely wasn’t Day’s first rodeo.

He and Mick stumbled a little as they walked, and Day began to laugh to himself. He felt like an idiot. When was the last time he had to get drunk in order to fuck someone? Hell, Day didn’t even know if he’d be able to perform, because his cock was as limp as a wet noodle right now. Day turned the corner and ran smack into a large, hulking chest, startling the hell out of both him and his date.

Mick grabbed his chest. “Jesus!”

“No. God,” the gruff voice responded.

Goose bumps popped up all over Day. He didn’t need to look up; he knew exactly who that voice belonged too.

Day still had his arm around Mick when he heard the small man giggle. “Goodness you are huge. Sorry, didn’t see ya big fella.” Mick went to move them around God, but Day didn’t budge.

Day finally looked up into fierce green eyes. Holy fuck. God looked good enough to pull into the small alley and fuck him for hours. He had on black jeans and a dark gray V-neck T-shirt. His black, mid-thigh leather coat was open and Day could see the butt of his Desert Eagle at his side… and just like that… Day was rock hard.

Mick pulled on Day again. “You coming, handsome?”

“No, he’s not. Leave,” God told Mick. His voice was rough and his posture was intimidating.

Mick looked back and forth between Day and God before asking Day, “You know this guy?”

Day was seriously at a loss for words as he stared at his partner that was supposed to be in a hotel room across town.

“Yes, he most certainly does,” God answered for him.

God was restless lying in bed, unconsciously massaging his balls and playing on his phone. He played a couple games, surfed the Net, and began opening various apps. He scrolled past the track-your-lover application and opened it up. Smiling he saw that Day was at home. He’d debated calling him and trying another apology. After an hour of internal arguing, he’d finally convinced himself to do it, until he noticed the red dot on his was moving. Where the fuck are you going this time of night?

God sat up and turned on the small lamp attached to the wall by the bed. As the dot, Day, traveled toward midtown, God began to growl. He knew exactly where Day was going. It was his go-to-spot to get a quick piece of ass. You little bastard.

“I know exactly what you’re doing, Leo. Teaching me a lesson, huh,” God mumbled to himself as he quickly pulled some clothes out of his suitcase.

In less than ten minutes he was fully dressed and squealing his tires out of the Fairfield Lodge parking lot. God barreled down the interstate and into midtown Atlanta like he was on a high-speed chase. He pulled into the alley behind Duff’s bar. He activated the alarm on his truck and made quick steps down the alley. As soon as he got to the end and was about to turn the corner, Day and his boy ran right into him. Now he was shooting daggers at Day’s piece of ass and scowling at his partner.

He took in the young man that Day had on his arm and God had to fight the urge to yank his arm off. Spiky, bleached hair, a fucking midriff net shirt, wet lips, perfectly arched eyebrows—which God really hated—and a tiny frame. He decided to enjoy Day’s loss of words for a couple seconds and slowly raked his eyes down that sexy body to the now-prominent bulge below Day’s belt. God moved in until he was practically standing on top of Day.

“God, what the hell are you doing here?” Day finally spoke.

“Oh my stars! You really are God?” Mick squealed.

God watched Day pinch the bridge of his nose and roll his eyes in obvious embarrassment.

“Seriously!” God snarled, pointing at Mick.

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” Day snapped each word this time.

"You’re not the only one that can track your lover,” God said smugly while holding up his phone with the application still open.

Day’s mouth fell open and the shade of red he turned was priceless. He decided to get rid of their excess company and take Day back with him. God looked at Day’s date and put on his best run-for-your-life face and spat menacingly, “Leave. Now.”

“No,” Day spoke before his date could move. “You don’t have to go anywhere, Mick.”

God looked back to Day and spoke in a harsh growl without moving his eyes from his partner’s. “Mick, I say leave now. He says to stay. Whatever will you do?”

Mick turned and ran so fast his image practically blurred.

“That takes care of that,” God said.

Day pushed God out of his space and turned to walk away without another word.

“Oh no, you don’t,” God snarled before grabbing Day around his waist and pulling him back into the darkness of the alley. He pushed Day up against the brick wall and pressed his forehead hard against his. “You think I’m just going to let you walk off?”

“Yep. Just like you did this afternoon,” Day replied without a second thought.

He’d be damned if that response didn’t hurt like hell. He kept their foreheads touching but lost some of his anger. “I apologized for that.”

“You sent me a goddamn text message, coward. Now get off me. I’m going home… alone now, thanks to you,” Day hissed.

“You were really going to fuck that guy?” God asked incredulously.

“You’re goddamn right I was,” Day retorted.

“Even though you’re in love with me?”

Why did God say that? He watched his partner’s face go from mad to stark raving livid. Before he could process what was happing, Day had caught him with a right punch twice to his rib cage making him cry out in pain at his already tender ribs.

“Fuck!” God yelled as he was shoved backward hard enough to almost knock him off balance.

“Can’t believe you just said that, asshole,” Day said while moving in on him again. “Think I’m going to let you string me along?”

God held his ribs and put one hand up to stop Day’s approach, but it was useless. Day dropped like a martial arts master and did a backward spin kick, effectively knocking both God’s legs from under him and sending him crashing to the ground—and two-hundred and fifty plus pounds hitting the asphalt really hurt.

“The bigger they are, the harder they fucking fall,” Day snarled, and began to move in again.

What the fuck?

God knew Day was quick, he’d seen him in action enough times. God’s only defense was his muscle, but he had to get his hands on Day first, which wouldn’t be easy. God rolled and came up off the ground, quicker than Day expected, and he caught Day’s left punch in mid-throw and spun him around. He yanked Day into his chest but took a hard right elbow to his right cheek before he was able to secure it with the other one.

“Enough,” God growled in his ear. Day’s back was pressed hard against God’s chest, while God held both hands tightly in front of him. “Stop fighting me.”

“No,” Day snapped.

“Stop fighting me, Leo. Because I love you too.” God said, his lips pressed firmly against Day’s ear. “You can’t fuck that other guy because you’re mine,” he whispered.

God felt Day’s body go limp and he took the opportunity to spin him around to face him. He looked into soft hazel eyes and lost himself. “I do, sweetheart. I think I may always have. I just didn’t know it until after you walked out of my apartment.” God took a deep breath and shook his head; his eyes squeezed shut at the vision that popped into his mind. “After I hurt you.”

Day didn’t pull away, but God could see the hurt was still there. Man, how he wished he could take it all back. He swore he would have done it all differently. “Leo. Please forgive me. I’m so sorry, and I promise I’ll never put my hands on you in anger again.” God watched Day for any signs of forgiveness. Day’s head was down, he was still as a rock, and he still hadn’t spoken.

God released Day’s arms, took one hand, and slowly lifted Day’s chin so he could look into those beautiful eyes again. Day’s eyes were moist but focused.

“Say something, sweetheart. Tell me you forgive me. Tell me you love me, or tell me to go to hell, just say something,” God begged, the silence driving him mad.

God was beginning to think he’d really lost his best friend until Day finally spoke. “I usually don’t like endearments, but I think I like you calling me sweetheart.”

He had to blink a couple times before he fully understood what Day had said. He released a harsh breath he didn’t realize he was holding, grabbed Day in a huge bear hug, and turned him around until his back was against the wall. God held him pinned there and attacked his mouth with an urgency unlike anything he’d ever felt. At first it was hard, needy, urgent, before turning soft and gentle.

Day’s lips were so soft and full. God pulled the bottom one into his mouth and sucked it tenderly, making Day release a sexy moan. God’s dick was aching, pressed against his zipper. It’d been a while since he’d had sex, even longer since he’d had sex with a man, but never in his life had he made love. Love was something he thought only existed in cheesy romance novels and chick flicks. He never thought it could be real in him, but it was. He loved Leonidis Day, and was serious when he said he probably always had. His heart had ached tremendously when Day walked out earlier, and it ached all the way until now. Now he had him in his arms, and he wasn’t letting go… ever if he could help it.

God ground his pelvis into Day, seeking some much-needed friction. Day grabbed God’s stubbled cheeks with both hands and thrust his tongue in as deeply as he could. God thought he could orgasm right there in the dirty alley from the way Day was tongue fucking his mouth. God took as much as he could before he yanked his face away and gasped for air. “Jesus, sweetheart.”

Day groaned. “Need you so fucking bad right now. Come home with me.” It was a demand not a request. Day grabbed God’s cock and gave it a hard squeeze.

“Ugh. Fuck yes,” God hissed.

“Want you out of this dirty alley and in my bed in one hour, and don’t fucking keep me waiting,” Day demanded and turned to walk away without a backward look.

Yeah, make me pay, sweetheart.

God practically ran to his truck, ignoring the aches and pains he felt throughout his body. He could just hear Day’s motorcycle revving before he slammed his truck’s door shut.