Page 22 of Artifacts

“Yes and that’s the reason I’m moving all the Buckman objects to the safety deposit warehouse.”

“Not your safe, you don’t mean?”

No, Elliot didn’t. His short description of the warehouse location, out past the north side of town but before the Hill Country, piqued Darrell’s interest. San Antonio had a couple of companies doing that, competing with banks to store goods such as safe deposit boxes and larger items…without all the compliance checks most banks were mandated to carry out.Interesting.Darrell made a mental note to look into Mr. Elliot Douglas.

“Oh, one moment.” A faint, muffled exchange took place on the other end of the phone. “May I put Aldric on?”

Before Darrell could reply, the sound of a door closing reached him through the phone line, followed by a gulped intake of breath. “Darrell?”

Just the sound of his name in Aldric’s voice had him shifting again, and not because of the comically too-small chair this time. He’d jacked off that morning, but his dick was waking up and taking notice now. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m here,” he interrupted Aldric, who was saying his name again, with hesitation in his tone.

“Would you like to go out on a date?”

He’d expected Aldric to ask some question about the graffiti, to be scared shitless about the pentagram, so Aldric’s actual question sent him reeling. Aldric’s voice was quiet, almost timid, but the determination rang through. That combination had Darrell’s balls tightening.

“If you don’t, that’s—”

“No! Yeah. Yeah, I do.”Oh.It seems I do.“You got anything in mind? Anywhere, I mean.” His brain worked at double speed to make up for his spacy-ness.

“Not exactly. And I don’t have a car.”

“I’ll plan something. And I’ll pick you up.”

They arranged a time, and Darrell blew out a breath as he disconnected. He didn’t do dates with guys. Never had. But…he wanted to, with Aldric. He started thinking about the where and the what of it, and a smile took over his face.

* * * *

“I’d never been in a pickup truck until this one,” Aldric confessed, settling into the passenger seat of Darrell’s Tacoma.

“Yeah?” Darrell jerked his chin to remind Aldric to put the seat belt on. He’d had to do that when he’d taken Aldric home from the hospital but had put that down to the accident and the meds. Now, though, he understood there was another reason Aldric wasn’t so familiar with vehicles. “What would you get, if you were in the market for a car?”

“If I drove, I’d get a Tesla.” Aldric peered down at the dashboard. “They’re EV, so better for the planet, and the Model S is so cool!”

Aldric didn’t drive? Was that what he meant? Darrell was trying to figure out his words and almost missed a question. “Huh? Oh, dinner and a movie. All in one.” He grinned and hoped Aldric would like what he had planned.

Aldric seemed to. When they reached the drive-in, his eyes were wide as he looked around, taking it all in. “Why are you backing in?” he asked.

He didn’t ask why Darrell was parking behind all the other vehicles, right up against the rock marking the end of the lot.Not that naïve, then.“So we can relax in the bed. Here, make yourself useful and tune the FM into the station it says on the program, and I’ll go get us dinner.”

Well, hotdogs and chips. Jeez, his nutrition flew out of the window around Aldric. When he reached the truck again, he beckoned for Aldric to hop out of the cab and join him in the back. “There’s beer in the cooler.” The drive-in didn’t sell it. “And water.” He wasn’t trying to get Aldric drunk.

“What’s a Buddy-Buddy Season?” Aldric ran his finger along the title in the printed program.

“Classic cop movies, from the seventies onward, that they’re showing all month. Double bills. See?”

“The French Connection.Freebie and the Bean. They sound interesting choices, especially for an off-duty police officer.” Aldric smiled.

Darrell didn’t have time to worry that Aldric wouldn’t enjoy them, just as he didn’t have to worry about his poor food choices. Not when, a half-hour into the first movie, their dinner was abandoned, and they had no attention to spare for the screen. How could any movie, no matter how classic or award-winning, compete with Aldric’s body under his, and Darrell’s lips over Aldric’s? How could any musical score sound as entrancing as Aldric’s gasps when Darrell’s tongue invaded his mouth, dominating his?

The sounds of surrender Aldric made and the yielding of his body had Darrell hard and more demanding in response, nipping at Aldric’s lips and parting his thighs with a knee. Aldric kissing back, attempting to seize control, had Darrell groaning and sliding a hand down to cup Aldric’s balls and show him just who was in charge. Aldric’s response wasn’t to roll Darrell over, slamming him into the floor of the truck that Darrell had covered with a picnic blanket. No, he sighed and tilted his head back, exposing the soft skin of his throat and neck.

Oh yeah.Darrell took him up on the invitation—a much better one than his lame movie-night idea. He sucked at a patch of skin there, sensitizing it for his nip seconds later, and the intake of breath Aldric made in response rasped out into the night air.

“Shh.” Darrell continued soothing with his tongue, easing away any remaining sting, then nibbled again, harder. He got off on kissing a man’s throat, at the amount of trust it took for a person to let a partner play there, and this time sucked deep enough to leave a mark.

And all the time, Aldric cupped the nape of Darrell’s neck, scratching into his short hair, giving him as much access as he wanted to that smooth, warm skin. Except, it wasn’t as much as he wanted. It couldn’t be, here, like this.

“Aldric.” Darrell sat up.

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