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Sinner's Gin (Sinners Series Book 1) by Rhys Ford (18)

Chapter 17

 

Sin, you’re off key. Pull it in.

You wanna try singing this shit? I’m fucking tired. I can’t do it.

Dude, if I could make your life easier I would but I can’t so we’ve just got to deal with this shit together, okay? Sin? Miki? I’m here, man. Right with you to the end, okay?

… Yeah. I know. It’s just… fucked. I just need… to breathe, you know?

Yeah, I know. Take a deep breath, Sin. I’m not going anywhere.

 

—Recording Shattered Lies EP, 3 a.m. session.

 

IT CAME hot and fast. One moment Miki was cursing the loss of Kane’s palm against his ass with his fingers spreading him apart and then he was stretched nearly impossibly wide by his lover’s heavy cock. The odd, sweet smell of the lubricant faded, replaced by the coiled musk scent of Kane’s sweat, and Miki arched up, using his tongue to lap at the hollow of his lover’s throat.

“Keep that up….” Kane grunted. “Won’t be able to hold it in.”

They fought to find their beat, and Miki shifted his hips, raising himself up as Kane drove into him. He clenched around the man filling him, hissing when Kane dragged himself slowly out only to push down hard again. It burned, hotter than Miki thought he could bear. When the ache of being filled became too much, and Miki was nearly out of his mind from the heat building up inside of him, Kane dipped in and slid down Miki’s pleasure spot, easing away the tightness at his entrance.

His world spiraled out, and Miki followed, drawn along the electric starbursts streaming from his center. It started small, a tiny tingle, then Kane found him again, and Miki was carried away by the raging tide of sensations boiling up from inside of him. He couldn’t do anything, not consciously. He might have spoken words of encouragement or damnation. He wasn’t sure what was pouring from his mouth other than the guttural need to have Kane drive into him deeper and harder.

Just more, his mind whispered before it surrendered to the sparkling darkness Kane drew up from inside him.

He surfaced, gasping for air and clutching at Kane’s broad shoulders. The man… his cop… loomed over him, black hair damp with sweat and sharp white teeth made for biting Miki senseless. Their bodies slapped together, a steady beat that made Miki’s heart skip. Kane’s arms bulged with the effort of holding him up. His shoulders hunched forward to keep the strain off of Miki’s knees. Lifted up and spread open, Miki could only moan and clench tightly down on the cock piercing him, inhaling sharply when Kane lit his nerves on fire with every other stroke.

Kane leaned back, balancing his weight on his knees. Miki groaned, complaining when his cop moved out of reach, but Kane’s smile was wicked, a promise of more to come.

Tipping Miki’s chin up, Kane moved his lips down the long line of Miki’s throat. The touch of Kane’s tongue burned nearly as much as his sex buried deep inside of Miki’s body. The sensual glide of Kane’s agile tongue over his heated skin was followed the brush of Kane’s teeth over the thumping spot where his blood rushed to his heart. The cop teased him with faint scratches of fingernails over the backs of his thighs, and then when Miki arched his shoulders in supplication, Kane bent his head down further on Miki’s body and took more.

One of Miki’s stiff nipples brushed Kane’s lips, and the cop took it into his mouth, suckling the tip with a fevered hunger. Unhurriedly, Kane let his cock glide back into Miki’s entrance, trailing over the stretched opening in a delicious crawl while he laved at the nipple, curling his tongue around it. Groaning, Miki tightened his passage around the man’s sex, his entrance suckling at Kane’s tip, drawing him back in.

“Need….” Miki gasped. His hands moved up over Kane’s broad chest and clung to the man’s shoulders. “God, need… you.”

Toying with the nipple, Kane tweaked it between his front teeth, pressing at it with his tongue and flicking the captured nub. Unable to do more than lie beneath his lover, Miki’s hips churned of their own accord, caught under Kane’s roaming hands and rapacious teeth.

Kane kept his thrusts shallow, slowing, then quickening the pace when Miki’s writhing slowed. Moving his hips in small jerking motions, Kane set a new pace, sliding in and out of Miki’s damp body. He lowered his hands to Miki’s hips, stilling the singer’s movements. Drawing himself as far as he could, Kane slid firmly back into Miki’s tightness. Held firm by the man’s strong hands, Miki moaned and twisted against his cop, straining to take in much of Kane’s cock as he could.

“Damn you,” Miki hissed between his clenched teeth. He needed more than what Kane was giving him, and he struck back, sinking his teeth into the cop’s upper arm. Kane only laughed, a dark, sensual pleased chuckle at Miki’s distressed want, and shortened his thrusts until his cock’s tip barely brushed the inside of Miki’s entrance. Miki gasped and let go of Kane’s skin, leaving a deep, dimpled oval behind. “Fucking… son… of a… bitch.”

“Such a filthy mouth. Remind me to have you wrap it around me next time.” Kane stole Miki’s breath with an untamed, sloppy kiss, swallowing Miki’s curses.

Their world became nothing more than the bedding and the soft whisper of the evening breeze coming through the open sliding door. A delicate sweat of musk and sweet oil curled down their limbs, stomachs, and backs, curling around the deep bruises blooming dark purple poppies on Miki’s taut throat and Kane’s fingernail-raked arms. Long red welts dappled Kane’s shoulders where Miki’s fingers claimed him, and similar furrows ran up Miki’s thighs and over his ass.

Miki was lost. The bursts of pleasure hit him swiftly as Kane began to plunge deep into him, losing all sense of control the cop teased him with just moments before. The heat between them boiled, and they were driving hard against each other, falling out of rhythm, but the sensual dance they played earlier became a frenetic explosion of melded mouths and joined bodies. Miki was about to reach the tip of his climax when Kane’s hands cupped his lower back, and the man pushed Miki hard down onto his cock.

He could see Kane struggling to hold himself back, but Miki clenched in on him, and the tight glove of Miki’s body was all it took for Kane to lose his mind. The neon and stars illuminating the San Francisco sky seemed to pour into them, and Miki felt every nerve in his body suddenly come alive under the tingle of his sac.

“So beautiful,” Kane whispered, his hips snapping back into Miki’s body. Struggling to keep going, he wrapped his hand around Miki’s cock and stroked the slippery skin as it moved over Miki’s shaft. “Let me see you come, baby.”

“Almost… Kane.” Unwilling to lose contact with Kane’s hard length in him, Miki lifted his hips up, and Kane went deep, hitting nearly every spot Miki needed him to again. A tangle of stars buried deep inside of Miki suddenly broke free, and he gasped, feeling himself go over. “There… Kane… please.”

Miki clenched and his back and legs went stiff. The tightness in his guts released, and his pleasure expanded to fill him under his skin. Gripped in Kane’s palm, his cock gushed, spurting with the force of his climax. His spill ran over Kane’s hand, and Miki’s shaft shivered with the prickling stimulation of Kane’s fingers. Another long, lingering brush of Kane’s shaft along his passage and Miki’s climax crested again, this time taking Kane with him.

He could see Kane’s orgasm work up from his cock to spread through his body. Kane’s neck tightened, and then his muscles went rigid as he rode the wave of his release. Twisting his hips, Kane nearly split Miki apart when he drove in deeper and hunched his shoulders in to pound at his lover’s entrance one last time. Miki’s body, already wrung nearly to exhaustion, tumbled under the force of Kane’s explosive need, and his cock jerked again, spilling hot into the tangle of hair around Kane’s belly button.

Kane grabbed at one of Miki’s hands and held it, letting the shudders rocketing through his body carry them both. Digging his heels into the mattress, Miki found his breath taken from him, and his heart beat frantically, his hips rolling to meet the final thrusts of Kane’s cock. His ass closed in on Kane, and his spasms milked Kane to his final peak. Kane groaned between his clenched teeth, pulling in sharp breaths, and gave in, the heat of his spill turning the latex glove around his cock hot with his seed.

Miki lingered in the darkness swaddling him. Then he emerged from his satiation, a brutal rebirth into a body others tore apart. His hips ached and his knee throbbed, but he didn’t care about the pain, not while the remains of his orgasm lapped at the edges of his nerves. Life spun back into a sharp contrast when Kane slid himself free of his entrance, and Miki winced, feeling the tug of the condom as it caught on his furled ring.

“Sorry, Mick m’love.” Kane’s gentle kiss made it all better, especially when his lips skimmed over Miki’s bitten-bruised neck in a swirl of butterfly touches. Easing Miki’s legs down, Kane turned him over onto his side and wiped at both of their damp bodies with one of their T-shirts. Kane tossed it toward the hamper at the corner of the room and snorted when it fell short. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Sleepy,” Miki murmured. He was tired. Fatigue tugged at the small of his back and dug its lazy fingers up his spine to feed off of Miki’s brain, leeching out any strength he had left in him. “I should go get Dude. Shit, he could be tearing the shit out of your parents’ backyard.”

“I’ll do that.” The mattress dipped and Kane’s weight shifted, then was gone. “Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll be right back and lock up the room.”

The bed was suddenly icy cold and lonely. Struggling to make his lifeless body respond, Miki grabbed at Kane’s hand before the man could move too far away. He drew Kane’s fingers into his mouth and kissed at the tips that both splayed him open and brushed away his tears. He blinked and looked up, focusing on the man standing silent at the side of the bed.

“I love you, you know.” Kane crouched, tightening his grip on Miki’s hand. Leaning over, he first kissed the botched tattoo on Miki’s shoulder, then brushed his lips over Miki’s jaw, whispering when he reached Miki’s earlobe, “You’re under my skin, Miki St. John. I can wait until you trust me… until you’re ready to let me love you like you should be loved. Even if you let me go, I’ll be waiting.”

“Don’t want to let you go, so no waiting,” Miki murmured, feeling the fatigue in his bones dragging him under. He tugged at Kane’s hand, drawing it across his chest until the man’s palm was over his heart. “This… me… hurts when you’re not here. I need you here. Think I love you, my stupid yelling cop. Now go get the dog so we can sleep. Tomorrow, you go catch the bad guy so I can get the hell out of your mom’s house before she eats my brain.”

 

 

THE smell of coffee brewing woke Kane up, and he snuffled his face into Miki’s thick hair to avoid his brain clicking on and hunting down the scent. The tickle grew, and he sighed, surrendering to the bean’s delectable pull. Working himself free from Miki’s sprawled limbs, Kane stumbled into the three-quarters bathroom to brush his teeth and take a shower, hoping he could scrape the night’s romp from his skin before the pot disappeared. Making another trip into the bedroom, Kane dug through his bag and dressed in a pair of jeans barely suitable for cop work. His button-up shirt stuck to a wet spot on his back he hadn’t wiped dry with his towel, and Kane turned to hunt for a pair of clean socks, stopping when he spied Miki still asleep on the bed.

They’d lost Dude to the allure of the backyard sometime in the early morning hours when Kane woke up long enough to relieve himself. A couple of barks later, his brother Braeden called out to the dog to come to breakfast, and that was the last Kane saw of him. Taking advantage of having the bed to themselves, Kane woke Miki up enough to suckle him to spill into Kane’s mouth, and they fell asleep wrapped around one another, murmuring silly things that made no sense once Kane reached full consciousness.

Leaving ibuprofen and a bottle of water on the side table next to the bed, Kane leaned over and kissed his lover on the forehead. Miki stirred, grumbling about a slight chill, and Kane drew the duvet over him, covering the singer’s scar-damaged legs and belly.

“Stay here,” Kane whispered to his slumbering lover. “Don’t get into trouble while I’m gone either.”

Surprisingly, the coffeepot was full. Even more startlingly, his father was scooping sugar out of the lamb-shaped bowl Brigid had picked up at a yard sale, measuring out two teaspoons into his coffee mug. Captain Donal Morgan glanced at his second son and reached for another mug, handing it and the spoon to Kane.

He grew up in the huge kitchen, playing under the table his mom used in the middle of the room. When he was older, Kane learned to cook there, his younger siblings playing with dolls and cars safely tucked away near his feet. The room was bright, old-fashioned double-pane windows letting sun in when the red gingham curtains were drawn back, and while the walls changed colors over the years, the knotty-pine floor remained as smooth as glass and clean enough to eat off of. Comfortable and lived in, it was the room they were usually drawn to first, either for coffee or to talk to Brigid, who’d spend hours listening to their troubles.

It was also where Kane could sometimes find his father, and in the middle of the night, right before his parents went to bed, they could be found there together, dancing to something slow playing on the radio and murmuring to one another in Gaelic.

“There’s creamer in the icebox, son,” Donal rumbled. “And some muffins yer mum made if yer hungry. Blueberry, I think.”

Even after thirty-two years, Kane still wasn’t used to being tall enough to meet his father’s eyes straight on. It seemed just yesterday he needed a boost up to see the twins asleep in their cribs, Donal’s broad hands circling his waist while the man instructed his wide-eyed second son that he was responsible for keeping his younger siblings safe from harm. Kiki and Riley were now fully grown, both junior inspectors in a police force their father made his… and their… lives.

Connor looked the most like their father, rough-set and seemingly hewn from granite, but Kane could still see his own face in his father’s solid features. Larger than life, Donal loomed over his brood, a quiet sentinel with steely blue eyes and silver-flecked black hair who spoke in a gravelly Cork County brogue he’d never lost. He raised his children with laughter and soft words, tempering his wife’s fiery hot-headedness with a steady calm. A peacemaker at heart, Donal still waded into the epic battles fought amongst his offspring, separating out the instigators from the victims and meting out punishments arduous enough to wring out the last ounce of spare energy the troublemakers had in them.

He was the man Kane wanted to be. Especially now, with Miki sleeping in the spare room, Kane longed to be able to slow dance with his lover in the middle of a kitchen before they tumbled off into bed, where Miki’s melodic voice would cry Kane’s name until they both drifted off to sleep.

“Yer man still out for the count?” The question would have sounded odd coming from any other Irish-born cop large enough to bench press a manatee, but Kane was used to his father’s unshakeable sensibilities. “From what I hear, he’s had a bit of a rough time of it.”

“Yeah, it’s been a shitty couple of weeks,” Kane mumbled, sweetening his coffee, then taking a sip.

It tasted like every sour, bitter, cop house coffee he ever had, another legacy his father passed on to his children. For all of his good points, the man couldn’t make a good pot of coffee to save his life, but Kane drank it anyway, used to the bad brew. The muffins smelled good, but his stomach wasn’t ready for breakfast. Glancing up at his dad, he grinned when Donal grabbed the butter dish from the fridge, then reluctantly put it back, pulling out the heart-friendly spread his wife bought for him.

“Yer mum wants me to stay healthy.” Donal grimaced and waved the tub of cholesterol-free spread at his son. “Sometimes, I think she’s the one who wants me dead. Have ye tasted any of this shite? It’s like sucking on motor oil. But, eh, she loves me. It’s how she shows it. Ye take care of yer boy in there that way?”

“Dad, I love you,” Kane said over his coffee cup’s rim, “But I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about Miki. Not yet. Maybe in a bit. Right now, it’s too… new between us, you know?”

“Fair ’nough,” Donal grunted. “Yer case, then? Ye and that caterwauling partner of yers get any further on those killings?”

“You know about that runner we lost yesterday?” Kane leaned against the stone counter and watched his father dissect his muffin into quarters. His father grunted a yes and sucked a bit of spread off of his thumb. “I’m hoping we get a hit on the prints from the knife he dropped at the second scene. Right now, it’s all I’ve got. Bastard was fast, like he was running for his life.”

“Ye figure out his connection to yer Miki?”

“No, but that’s something else the print might help with.” Kane frowned. “We’ve tried running down all of the kids Vega and his wife fostered, but so far we’ve come up empty there too. The ones that survived Vega’s shit have gone to ground, but I’m thinking this guy’s one of them. He has to be.”

“Suppose he’s someone yer boy pissed off?” Donal asked as he chewed a bit of his muffin. “Maybe a fan or even one of his band’s family? Is there a money trail ye can follow?”

“Kel and I chased that down first. The only ones with a grudge against Miki are the Mitchells, but they’ve been in Montana for the past week. I’ve been in touch with Edie, the band’s manager, and she’s got nothing on her radar. No one’s sent threatening letters to the record company. The other two families don’t have a problem with Miki. Damien’s parents… the Mitchells… are pissed off about song rights, but they’ve been mostly attacking him in court.”

“Could they have hired someone?” Donal waved off his question as soon as he asked it. “Sorry. Ye’d have checked that first.”

“Yeah, they had money before Damien hit it big with Sinner’s Gin,” Kane replied. “I know there’s no such thing as too much money, but there hasn’t been a huge payout to anyone that hasn’t been there for the past couple of years. They’re taking care of some aunt in a nursing home, that’s the Montana place they go to visit every few weeks, and they pay the kind of bills rich people have. Hell, Dad, they pay more for their dog groomers in one month than I pay rent. They came out clean.”

“And there’s no note or anything to lead ye to a fan,” his father mused. “It’s hard to catch someone ye can’t get ahold of.”

“Nothing other than that one note,” Kane growled, frustrated. “Guy’s good at covering his tracks. And he doesn’t give a shit who he hurts. Beanie boy didn’t hesitate to stab that guy. He did it to slow us down.”

“Smart then, at least enough to know the basics.” The muffin was becoming crumbles in Donal’s hands as he thought.

“And he likes knives,” Kane said. “You should see the shit he’s done. Last night, when we found Vega? It was like he needed to see every bit of him laid out on that floor. We’re cross-checking the restaurant’s employee list once we find the owner. He could have worked there. He’s got the knife skills to have been in a kitchen.”

“Yer mother was right, then, in dragging that boy here,” Donal said. “He’ll be safer here. If your killer is one of Vega’s fosters, he might want to take out his frustrations on someone else who survived, now that those two are dead.”

It was prophetic, really, especially when Kane’s phone chirruped its salsa at him. He gave his father the same long-suffering look he used when one of his siblings called him, and answered the phone.

“What’s up, Kel?” Kane checked his watch. “We’re not on for another hour.”

“Yeah, fuck you, Morgan,” his partner spat. “I hope that rock star you’ve got in bed’s a good piece of ass, because you owe me a fucking new car.”

Sirens broke into Sanchez’s rant, and Kane could hear random shouting in the background, with someone screaming to “get the hoses on the houses close to the front.” Amid the chaotic crackle of noise, what Kel said to him finally sank into Kane’s brain.

“I’m going to forgive your shit because I love you like a brother, Sanchez,” Kane snarled back. “But you ever fucking talk about Miki like that again, you’re going to be chewing your food in your throat, ’cause that’s where your teeth’s going to be. Now, what the hell is going on?”

“That bastard… he hit my mom’s house, man.” Kel’s voice was lost in another onslaught of sirens. “I know it was that bastard. Looks like he dumped more of Vega’s body parts on the front porch. That is one sick son of a bitch.”

“Fucking hell. Is everyone okay?” Kane felt Donal step closer, and his hand settled on Kane’s shoulder, an anchoring weight to hold him down as Kane’s fears took flight. “Is your mom okay? The neighbors?”

“Yeah, we think so. Firemen got her dogs out, so that’s a blessing. We’re trying to keep the other houses from going up,” Kel shouted above the fracas. “I parked the Porsche in her garage. She had a doctor’s appointment this morning. She hates sitting that low in a car, so we drove hers.”

“I’ll be right there,” Kane promised and began to rinse his cup out.

“Go. I’ll do that,” Donal ordered him. “You go on. I’ll make sure someone feeds your Miki when he wakes up. Call me when you get to Marina’s house. When yer mum comes back from the store, we’ll start getting some things together so she’s got clothes and a place to stay.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Kane gave his father a brief hug, slapping him on the back. “Don’t worry so much about Miki. His dog’ll eat you out of house and home.”

“I can handle the dog, Kane.” His father smirked. “I raised you, didn’t I?”