Page 12 of Lover
Shannon Fall 2016
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Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance”blared through the speakers of Shannon’s red Honda. It was a breezy day in Dallas, allowing him to drive down the Tollway with the windows open, the wind mussing up his hair. He sang along with the song, wiggling in his seat, dancing to the beat. The volume was high enough that when the song faded, replaced by Siri alerting him to a call from Rory, he shrieked. “Fucking A.” He pressed the Talk button on his navigation screen. “Hey, babe, what’s up?”
“I’m stuck here at the office a little while longer. Do you want to meet me here or head to the restaurant and wait for me at the bar?” Rory sounded exhausted.
“Sweetie, you sound plumb tuckered out. How ’bout I come there, and when you’re done I’ll drive us back to my place, and we’ll grab some takeout on the way.” Shannon offered a solution.
“But...” Rory stammered.
“No buts.” Shannon cut him off. “That trendy new hot spot on lower Greenville will still be there next week. You need some rest, babe.”
He could hear the smile in Rory’s voice when he answered. “Okay, I’ll see you soon then.”
Pushing the button to disconnect the call, he picked right up where the song left off, getting off the Tollway to take the back roads to Rory’s office. Their relationship had progressed easily, naturally. Nine months in and Shannon continued to be surprised by his boyfriend’s patience. Shannon had started worrying about him recently, though. He’d been clocking his hours with the Bureau on the case in Washington while working on the Langford case behind the scenes with the detective Shannon had met at the beach over the summer. After Taylor’s father tried to kill him and ended up back in prison, this time on death row for two counts of capital murder, Shannon assumed the case would be closed. Officially, it was. Unofficially, Rory and the detective were convinced that something was amiss, that there was a larger web of deceit they needed to pick through to get to the truth.
Speaking of the truth, he still hadn’t been open or honest with Rory about his connections to Washington. Of course he eventually had to tell Rory where he was from, and it wasn’t as hard to talk about as he’d initially feared. It had been challenging early on to separate the sexual aspect of his new romance with Rory and the memories of the one he had with Bruce. One night stood out in his mind—a turning point for him. They’d been dating for three or four months, and Shannon had recently gifted Rory with a key to his apartment; he trusted him implicitly. His lover arrived that night while Shannon was pulling dinner from the oven, and they’d had the hottest sex Shannon could ever remember having. Rory couldn’t know the trembling and shudders racking his limbs were fear brought on by memories of similar touches when he was with Bruce.
His domineering ex had liked to make Shannon stand naked facing the wall, walking past him and kicking Shannon’s legs apart, beating him if he lost his balance. Bruce had also enjoyed making Shannon feel inferior and helpless, grabbing his hair and jerking his head back so hard that his head throbbed for days. But with Rory, it was different, in every way. When he wanted Shannon to open his legs, he lifted one leg with his foot, sliding his legs apart. And the way he grabbed his head for that kiss, grip firm but gentle, tugging his head back and kissing him like he needed Shannon’s taste to breathe...fuck. He was getting hard just thinking about it. Shannon had made it a point to look Rory in the eyes that night, to watch the emotions dancing behind his black eyes lined with green so that he was able to see what true want, need, and lust looked like. There was a world of difference between blown pupils and pure evil.
Arriving at police headquarters, Shannon drove through the lot until he found Rory’s car and parked beside it. The guard at the door nodded, watching him go through the metal detectors then waving him toward the elevators. The doors were closing when someone shouted, “Hold the elevator please,” a foot stopping them from closing. When the doors slid open, Shannon was greeted with a familiar face, Rand Davis. He held a tray with four venti cups from Starbucks and Shannon wondered who the other three were for. “Well, hello, Shannon Dupree. Good to see you again.”
“You too, Detective.”
“Oh no, call me Rand.” He precariously balanced the tray in one hand, holding the other out to Shannon.
“Of course, Rand,” he said, smiling. “Who are all of those for?”
Detect—Rand held the tray up, obviously looking for a specific cup. “Myself, Gonzales, and your beau and...ah, here we go,” He pulled one of the cups from the tray, handing it to Shannon. “Rory said you’d want a venti flat white with two pumps almond and two pumps caramel.”
Giggling, he took the offered cup, taking a sip and sighing. “Ah yes, he knows me so well. Thanks, Rand.”
The man nodded, his eyes holding Shannon’s gaze until it became awkward, and he glanced away. A quick peek and, yep, Rand was still looking at him. It was almost unnerving, but then, there was no malice there—more like curiosity.But how could that be? Fuck.This was the slowest elevator ride in history. Shannon took another sip of coffee, “Mmmmmm, good.”
What the hell, Dupree?his inner diva asked, the squinty-eyed bitch. He would not look at him again, nope, not...dammit! He couldn’t help it. The man was so...so...fascinating. Tall, brooding, and devilishly handsome, the complete opposite of his Rory who was lithe, jovial, and alluring....His Rory.Fucking hell,what am I doing,side-eyeing this guy in the elevator on the way to see my boyfriend? Classy,Dupree,real classy.Looking is okay though,right? Yes,I can look but never touch.
From the first day he’d met Detective Rand Davis at the Vineyard, he’d been curious and somewhat fascinated. Slightly taller than Shannon with a toned physique, muscles that rippled when Rand took his shirt off to play volleyball on the beach, the man belonged on the cover of a magazine. NotVogueorHigh Fashion Magazine—no, more likeMen’s Healthor some other fitness spread. He and Rory were in a committed relationship, but Shannon would have to be dead not to notice the gorgeous man. When they returned home after that trip to Martha’s Vineyard, Rand Davis became a permanent fixture at dinners and gatherings, his charm and witty banter only making him that much more appealing.Look, but don’t touch. Appreciation is fine...acting on that emotion, not so much.Shannon had said those words to himself more times than he could count the last few months. If only the threesomes he read about in his naughty gay romance books were real, something he could grasp instead of fictional characters on a page.
The elevator stopped, doors slowly sliding open.Oh,thank fuck!Light-headed, Shannon all but sprinted down the hall to the office Rory shared with Gonzales and Cummings, knowing Rand was going to the same damn place. He could hear Rory and Connie talking, their voices growing louder, words clearer the closer he got to the office.
“We have got to catch this guy, Connie. This is all starting to remind me of the Green River Killer, except with men.” Shannon’s steps faltered. Was this the Washington case Rory was talking about or the Langford murders?
“You going in?” Rand whispered, breath rushing past Shannon’s ear, and he damn near shit his pants, unable to stop his limbs from tensing up. “Hey, easy, I was kidding. You okay, Shannon?”
“Yeah, I...” He turned to look at the man behind him, his larger frame so close to Shannon that he could feel the heat radiating off Rand’s body in waves. When Rand’s amber gaze lowered, he licked his lips, sucking in a breath as he watched Rand’s pupils dilate. The want and need couldn’t be denied, not when he was standing close enough to Rand to hear the sharp intake of breath, to see his nostrils flare.
Shannon blinked, snapping out of the haze his mind was in. “Ye...yeah, I’m good.” He finally answered Rand’s question before taking the last few steps into the brightly lit room, smiling when he saw Rory. His hair was a mess, eyes puffy with dark circles, showing how little sleep Rory had probably gotten over the past few days since they’d last seen each other. Shannon tucked all that away for later, instead walking straight over to him and kissing him, letting Rory pull him down into his lap. “Missed you.”
“Me too, babe. These cases are kicking my ass. If we don’t solve one of them soon, I may go mad.” Rory’s words were said in jest and with a smile, but Shannon could hear the sharp edge to them. Gonzales would likely note the barely audible nuance in his tone as well, but would Rand?
“You want some cheese with that whine, Landers?” Well, that answered that question. Rory took the coffee from the detective, glaring up at him.
“Good one.” Connie took her cup, bumping Rand’s fist with hers.
Rory pouted, sticking his bottom lip out for emphasis. “Do you see the copious amounts of verbal abuse they heap on me, baby?” Shannon laughed, shaking his head as he leaned in for another quick kiss before standing.
Of course his stomach chose that moment to protest the lack of food—Shannon hadn’t eaten since lunch. “Well, on that note, you guys about done? I want to get him home, feed him, and put him to bed. You look like you’re dead on your feet, hun.” He could feel eyes on him and knew without looking that it was Rand.
