Nightcrawler (Trackers #1)

Chapter Fifteen

RAVEN

I’d just finished tucking my nana into bed when the doorbell rang. I walked out into the living room, giving it a quick glance, wondering if the two candles I’d lit, visible on the dining room table, were too much. Of course, there was also the quiet jazz playing from my nana’s antique console stereo which probably made everything seem over the top.

The doorbell rang again, and I realized there was no use fretting about it now. I walked to the door, trying to slow my frantic heart which threatened to beat out of my chest. I felt like a schoolboy. Miguel was standing on the stoop, running a hand through his hair in that characteristic nervous gesture I found charming. I smiled at the cat carrier he held in one hand. Judging by the meowing, Stanley hated being in the cardboard box.

“Come in.” I stepped aside and shut the door behind him after he walked inside.

“Hi. I’m so sorry I’m late,” he said, turning to greet me as he set Stanley’s carrier down on the ground. We stood there several feet apart and I could feel awkwardness coming off him in waves. He hesitated and then took a step forward, before pulling me into a quick hug. I sank against his body, enveloping him with my arms. My wounds throbbed uncomfortably, and the bandages were annoying, but his arms took away most of the sting. His hug was tentative, and I knew it was more out of him not wanting to hurt my wounds than his actual nervousness at what some people might construe as a first date. When we separated, I immediately stepped back. Stanley protested, and he laughed, reaching up to nervously run a hand through his hair again.

“Are you really sure this is okay? Having Stan here?”

I looked down at the carrier where he was protesting as though he was being tortured.

He laughed. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine!” I said, bending to open the box. Stanley immediately jumped out and darted out of sight, down the hall. Miguel moved in his direction, but I stopped him, grabbing his arm. He looked over at me. “Let him go. The house is closed up, so it’s okay for him to explore. He’ll come out when he’s good and ready.”

“Are you sure?” Miguel looked toward the hallway.

“It’s fine. Come and eat something,” I assured him.

“Something sure smells good.”

I smiled. “Thank you. I hope you like fettuccine alfredo,” I said, leading him to the dining room table where I’d put out wine glasses and a bottle of red wine. “I didn’t know what kind of wine you like.” When he didn’t reply, I went on, nervously. “Personally, I like red. The fettuccini has chicken in it so I should have probably put out some white but—”

He cut off the rest of what I was going to say by stepping into my personal space, pulling me harder against him, and kissing my own anxiety away. Miguel’s lips were soft and tempting and the way his kisses made me feel weak in the knees simply took my breath away. The man was stunningly beautiful and the hardness of his body against my own wasn’t something I could miss. Neither was how well-endowed he was. Perhaps he wasn’t as nervous as I initially thought he was. Whatever the case, the closeness of him and the way he plied my mouth with his own, quickly dispelled my own notions about his anxiousness.

When he finally broke the kiss a couple of minutes later, he smiled at me. “I’ll take red or white. I’m good with either.”

The wine. He was talking about the wine. I’d completely forgotten my question. “Good!” I said, perhaps a little too loud or too fast because he chuckled before looking around the room. When he turned back, he had a question in his eyes. “Where’s your grandmother?”

“Oh,” I said, “she goes to bed early.” I hooked a thumb toward the kitchen. “I’m just going to go get the food.”

“Let me help.”

I stopped my forward momentum to turn back, and he nearly ran into me, apologizing profusely. “Oh, sorry,” I spluttered as he stepped back. “Did you want to unload your boxes before dinner?”

He smiled, shaking his head. “And let your dinner get any colder than it is? No, we can do that afterward.”

I returned his smile. “Okay.” I turned and walked into the kitchen with him following right behind. We plated up the pasta and salad and brought it to the table. I’d tossed the salad with my own version of homemade Italian dressing. It was simple fare, but I wanted to do something I thought he’d like, and my chicken fettuccini alfredo with fresh garlic and basil from my nana’s garden was one of my specialties. I grabbed a basket of garlic bread, and we sat down to eat.

“This is really nice, Raven,” he said, shaking out the cloth napkin and putting it on his lap. I poured the wine I’d opened to breathe, and he picked up his glass of Cab and looked over to me before holding it out. “To friends.”

I smiled and clinked his glass. “Friends.” I took a sip. The wine was delicious and before long, we were eating. My appetite had returned, and I was proud of myself for not needing any painkillers after the ones I’d taken before my nap this afternoon. It was good to get something in my stomach. I’d only eaten a piece of fruit since the dessert earlier in the day. By the time we’d nearly finished eating, I’d decided watching Miguel Huerta eat was one of my favorite things to do. He obviously enjoyed my cooking. Watching him demolish two large plates of fettuccini and a bowl of salad as he downed a glass of wine, was more satisfying than I could have possibly imagined. When he finally sat back in the chair and patted his stomach, I smiled.

“Good?”

He grinned. “Good? That was the best meal I’ve had in ages.” He gestured to my empty plate. “I see your appetite returned.”

I nodded, looking down at the plate before picking up my wineglass and draining the contents. “I’m feeling a hell of a lot better, Miguel.” I smiled at him. “Let me pour you another glass of wine.” I picked up the bottle.

“I probably shouldn’t. We have to meet Cassidy early.”

“One more glass. We can take it over to the couch and relax a bit.”

“Okay, fine, but I’d like to unload the boxes first,” he said. “It’s good wine.”

“Believe it or not, I got this at Trader Joe’s and if I told you how much I paid for it, you’d laugh.”

“No—” he said, picking up the empty bottle to read the label. He looked up at me. “Two-Buck Chuck?”

I nodded as I laughed. I’d always loved the inexpensive wine from my favorite market. I’d been buying it for two dollars a bottle for at least a decade, ever since one of my high school friends had turned me on to it. More than two decades ago, Fred Franzia at Bronco Wine Co. had partnered with Trader Joe’s and they’d sold thousands of cases of the delicious red wine with the Charles Shaw label. I had nearly a whole box in the garage. I topped up the wine glasses and took them to the coffee table to set them down before following him out the front door.

He walked to the bed of his truck and I looked in, surprised at the meager number of boxes and even more surprised at the very large footlocker. “Is that all of it?” I immediately regretted the words when he turned to look at me and sighed.

“Yeah, that’s the extent of my life, packed in five small boxes and a footlocker. Sad, isn’t it?”

“I-I didn’t mean—”

He walked over and put his hands on my shoulders, looking into my eyes. “It’s okay. I know. Money’s been short lately. There are clothes, though.” He smiled and walked over to indicate the back seat of his truck which was piled high with clothes on hangars. There was one garment bag of good quality lovingly draped over the rest.

“As it so happens, I have a coat rack still in a box in the garage. It should hold everything, but it’ll have to be put together,” I told him. “I picked it up in a secondhand store, still in the box. Hopefully all the pieces are there.”

“No problem.”

“Hang on a minute. Let me open the garage door.” I glanced around for the kitten to make sure he wouldn’t get out and finding him nowhere in sight, walked back inside and through to the garage using the opener on the wall. It slowly rolled open to find Miguel standing outside on the drive, holding a box. He made me sit the move out due to my injuries and brought them all in, stacking them neatly in an open spot against a wall.

I busied myself by finding the coat rack. I assembled it while he carried his clothes on hangars from the truck. When it was standing, I stood back, looking at it in relief. All the pieces had been there, and I felt a little triumphant as I looked at the metal rack on wheels. After everything was hanging, he turned and looked out at the truck, clearing his throat.

“I… ah …can’t lift the footlocker from the truck by myself. It’s got a heavy-duty padlock on it. Is it safe enough in this neighborhood to leave it overnight?”

I nodded. “Yes, don’t worry about it. It’s really a very safe neighborhood. In fact, one of the L.A. city council members lives just down the street, so the cops patrol this place frequently.”

“That’s good to know. I guess you were right about taking our earlier confrontation with Ned into the house, seeing as how your neighbors probably wouldn’t have appreciated fights on the front lawn,” he said.

“No, they wouldn’t.” I smiled. “Our gardener comes in the morning. He can help you move it then.”

“Sounds good,” he said.

“Now, how about that wine.”

He nodded, and I caught the barest of smiles as his mouth turned up at the corners. “Sure. That sounds great.”

We went into the house and closed up the garage before he followed me to the couch. I slipped out of the moccasins I’d been wearing all night, ignoring the fact that he was wearing boots on my grandmother’s hardwood floors. I’d mention that faux pas to him in the morning since she didn’t allow shoes on the floors because they tended to scuff the wood. That rule didn’t apply to guests. Though, using the word guest didn’t seem right to use for Miguel. The warm feeling in my chest when I thought about him staying longer than one or two nights, felt right. I sat down with him, side by side, half facing each other and leaning back against the soft cushions of the couch. I picked up my wineglass and took a sip.

“I take it, it’s Ned’s night off?”

I almost choked on the wine in my mouth and reached up to brush the back of my hand over my lips as I looked over at him.

“You okay there?” he asked as he took a sip of the delicious red.

“Sorry…surprised me, that’s all. Actually…I fired Ned today.” He opened his mouth to respond when Stanley suddenly made an appearance by jumping up on the arm of my sofa. “ Aww , there you are.” I held out my hand and the kitten immediately rushed across the couch to meet it, rubbing his face all over it. I grinned. The sweet little guy liked me.

“He’s going to be a nuisance,” Miguel said.

I glanced over at him as I picked up the kitten, nuzzling my nose into his side as his purring started up. “What? No way. Let me just put him in the bedroom. He’ll be fine.”

“The litter box!” Miguel said, suddenly seeming to remember the lapse. He rose from the couch and went out to the garage where I’d seen him set it down with the boxes. He was back in a minute. I was waiting for him with Stanley in my arms and led him down the hall to the guest bedroom where I deposited the kitten on the ground. The moment Miguel set down the litter box, the kitten immediately jumped into it and began to do his thing. I backed out of the room with Miguel at my side and closed the door. I met his eyes. “So…back to our wine?”

Miguel smiled. “Yes.”

We walked back to the living room and settled on the couch before picking up our glasses again. “So, where were we?”

“You were about to tell me about firing Ned,” he said, lifting an eyebrow.

“Oh, don’t worry, it won’t keep me from going out to meet Mike and Cassidy with you in the morning. I called the agency and they’re sending a new nurse first thing.”

“Okay, I wasn’t thinking about that, but it’s not why I asked. What happened with Ned? I thought he’d been with you a long time.”

“We’ve had other nurses from time to time, but he’s been the most consistent caregiver over the last two years.” I sighed. “As for the reason…well, I’ll just leave it at the fact that he’s gotten way too familiar with me and thought he had a right to take liberties.”

He lowered his wineglass, frowning deeply. “Liberties? What kinds of liberties?”

“He came on to me several times and after the scene he made this morning, it just got to me.”

He cleared his throat. “Did he…was there a reason he—”

“Oh, did I encourage the flirting?” I shook my head. “No.” The idea of it sounded distasteful even to my own ears. “Trust me when I tell you, Ned is most definitely not my taste in men.”

He relaxed a little, then smiled before taking another sip of his wine. “Bitchy, little queens don’t do it for you?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Whiny, little twinks who are over the top and dress like whores do absolutely nothing at all for me.”

He laughed then sipped more wine, sliding his arm across the back of the couch. His smile was flirty as he caressed the fabric. “Oh, yeah, what kind of men do you like, Raven?”

“I suppose I have a thing for the big, beautiful, bodyguard type,” I said, moving my hand until mine was covering his.

“The bodyguard type, huh ?” He drained his glass and then leaned forward, setting it on the coffee table before sitting back and moving in even closer. “Is that right?”

I set my own glass down, then leaned toward him. “Yes,” I whispered. There wasn’t much space between us now, but even that distance was too far. I lifted both arms and twined them around his neck, toying with the short hair at his nape, before looking at his mouth under my lashes. “I’m going to kiss you again. Would that be okay?”

He slid both arms around my midsection, making sure he kept away from my wounds, leaned in and whispered against my lips, “That would be perfect.”

This time, his kisses started out slow and languid, teasing my mouth open until I was sure he was tasting the wine on my tongue. I could certainly taste it on his. He didn’t rush the kiss, just let it build, like…a fine wine, if I had to be honest. When he made the tiniest of growly sounds at the back of his throat, I felt my dick growing hard. Miguel always seemed to have that effect on me. I deepened the kiss, returning the earnestness I felt in his. Soon, I was panting, feeling almost desperate.

Miguel moved slowly, pushing me back until I was lying on the couch. He rolled until he lay beside me on the wide cushions, always cognizant of keeping any weight off my midsection as he started kissing me again. This first date thing was doing it for me in only the best way. When he slid his knee over mine, I widened my legs, feeling the stony ridge of his cock against my thigh. I was equally as hard, excited, and practically breathless.

He released my lips and kissed across my jaw as I lifted my chin. My neck was an erogenous zone and when his lips trailed from my ear downward, I felt myself growing crazy with lust for him.

He was careful with me, cautious of my wounds to a fault as he slowly kissed lower, running a hand over my chest, tweaking my nipples through the fabric of my T-shirt. He leaned back for a moment, met my gaze with a smoldering one of his own, before smiling playfully. He pushed my T-shirt up and kissed down my chest, toying with each of my nipples with the tip of a pink tongue and for just a moment, I regretted removing the nipple bars which I normally kept there. He reached for the fastenings of my bulging slacks, slowly lowering the zipper. When he tugged a bit, I lifted my butt off the couch, and he pushed them down just enough to see him staring at my erection. It was already leaking through my boxer briefs. He glanced back up at me and gave me a wicked smile before lowering his mouth and kissing over a wet spot.

I groaned and slid my hands into his silky, brown hair as I looked up at the ceiling. When his hot mouth opened and sucked the tip of my cock right through my briefs, I almost went off. It had been a long time for me, months in fact, since picking up a man in a bar for a quickie in a nameless motel.

I hadn’t had a long-term relationship since college and that one had lasted less than a year, ending when I’d found out he’d cheated not once, but apparently had been the whole time we’d been together. It’s one of the reasons I stuck with meaningless hookups. Even those had begun to bore the hell out of me. When Miguel suddenly reached for the waistband of my briefs and pulled them down to let my cock pop out, I looked back down, tightening my fingers in his hair.

The moment he took me into his mouth, I was lost. The sensations of a hot mouth on me were far from novel but the feelings that had my emotions raw, were new to me. I’d never wanted a man as badly as this one, and the fact that Miguel was the guy with my cock in his mouth, made me crazy with lust.

He teased and licked and sucked the tip of my cock with his lips, teeth, and tongue. He tickled the sensitive frenulum on the underside of my cock, spending an inordinate amount of time on the tip and my slit, before sucking me halfway down. I must have wiggled because a moment later, he glanced up at me, his lips still wrapped around my dick. The very sight of my cock in his mouth, his lips stretched sweetly around it, had my balls pulling up tight. The last thing I wanted to do was to come in his mouth, finishing way too soon, but there wasn’t much else I could do with the fucking gunshot wounds.

He seemed to understand because he smiled around my dick as saliva slid out the sides of his mouth. He sucked harder, lifting a hand, and reaching for my sensitive balls. I was proud of my grooming, keeping myself trimmed super short down there, so when he found my sac and began rolling them in his hand, experimenting with pressure to see what I liked, and watching my face, I nodded. He was doing it just the way I wanted, and I let him know so. He rewarded me with another suck and I bucked off the couch, feeling the wounds tug, but so lost in what he was doing, the twinge was negligible. I was close…so close.

“Miguel!” I cried. “Can’t stop…gonna…gonna—” He sucked hard and that was it. With a cry, I was emptying my balls down the back of his throat. He sucked and swallowed around me as my body convulsed and gave up everything. It was a full minute later that he let my cock slide from his mouth. He looked up at me and smiled a wolf’s smile, completely and utterly proud of himself and what he’d done.

MIGUEL

Raven’s flushed cheeks were the sexiest things I’d ever seen. The way his chest heaved, sucking in breath after breath as he came down from his climax was sexy too, and I realized that he’d enjoyed every moment of what I’d done to him. His cock was special. I’d given my share of head to men I’d picked up over the years, but I’d never enjoyed anyone like this man. His prick was perfect, long and thick, with a fat head that blushed bright red when aroused. I’d enjoyed sucking him off, more than I could say for a lot of the guys I’d gone down on over the years.

There was something unique about this man who didn’t fit into the same category as those nameless, faceless men because I was finding feelings I’d never had with them. I genuinely liked Raven Mathis who was one of the nicest people I’d ever met. If the sweat which still shone on his skin and the lazy smile he wore on his lips was anything to measure the others by, I would’ve laid odds he liked me too.

I hadn’t come here with this in mind but watching him smile that sweet half smile he’d worn when he’d sat on the couch flirting with me, had been too much of an invitation to ignore. I watched him come back into himself slowly, before he brushed long fingers through my hair. I leaned in and kissed him, ignoring my own need which was currently pounding against the zip of my jeans. And I tried my best to give him what he wanted, which at this moment, was to explore my mouth the way I’d explored his. When I finally broke the kiss, he was panting, and my heart was pounding.

He smiled almost shyly as he reached for the button on my waistband. I stopped his hands, shaking my head. “It’s not necessary, Raven, you’re hurt.” He smirked at me as he popped the button open and reached for my zipper.

“My mouth isn’t hurt.”

He sent me the sexiest leer which made me laugh. “Fine.”

He nodded, clearly happy with himself.

“Good. If you think I don’t want to taste you now, you’re crazy.”

I lifted my arms, putting my hands behind my head, giving in, and letting him pull my jeans halfway down my legs. My cock rose high and hard, and he looked up at me with a bit of surprise.

“No underwear?”

I shrugged. “I like commando. Less laundry to do.”

He snorted a laugh. “Of underwear…but you still have to wash your jeans.” He held two fingers over my mouth when I opened it to respond. “Never mind. I like it and if chafing is your thing, who am I to argue with you.”

I laughed. I really liked this guy.

He worked the jeans farther down my thighs and then even more, pulling them almost down to my knees, going slightly overboard since he didn’t need that much access. Clearly, the man had other plans. “Stand up in front of me. I think that’ll be the easiest angle for me…because of the gunshot wounds.”

I got his meaning at once and when he threw his stocking-covered feet over the side and spread his knees, I stood up and moved into place between them. My jutting cock was right at his mouth level which would work nicely. I was still wearing my boots but that didn’t seem to matter to him as he took both of my hips in hand.

He batted long, black eyelashes up at me as I slid both hands into his thick hair. “I want you to fuck my mouth.”

That sounded like the perfect plan to me. I gasped as he bent his head and sucked my cock inside. Watching him go down on me from this angle was one of the sexiest things I’d ever done. And I realized it was a first for me outside of a bathroom stall in a gay bar toilet when I’d been drunk enough to need to get my rocks off with some random guy’s mouth on my dick. This was something entirely different, however.

I was only mildly buzzed after two glasses of red wine, so watching the top of Raven’s head bobbing at my crotch as he gave me head was an amazing sight and feeling. The man was talented, taking me halfway down in one long slide, making sure his mouth filled with enough saliva to ease the way nicely. He knew what he was doing, and I deliberately ignored the irritation that thought brought with it, determined to enjoy every bit of his knowledge and skill.

“Raven,” I growled as he pulled back and then sank down on me again. He reached for my balls and rolled them in his hands, squeezing them until I could feel the sting. When I groaned, he smiled around my cock and sucked harder, looking up at me under his lashes. I curled my fingers into his hair and pulled him hard onto me, only slightly worried when it made him gag and pull off, coughing. He looked up at me and smiled.

“You like it rough, huh ?” he gasped.

I nodded at him, breathless as I hissed in pleasure. “Sometimes.”

“Me too.”

I ignored the thrill those words gave me as he took me inside again, tightening his lips hard around me, working my balls, squeezing harder as he rolled them in his hand. I shut my eyes, loving the feel of the blow job but even more excited at the thought of him doing this to me. This lovely man who I’d known for only a handful of days, made me feel better than I had with any previous lovers. I took a second to explore that word, but knowing there wasn’t another man I’d referred to in those terms before, including the man I’d lusted after and fallen for all those years ago in the Corps.

Raven was different and I knew it.

This man was someone who could easily break my heart if he set out to do it, but he wouldn’t. I somehow knew that down deep inside.

I twisted my hands in his hair, loving the feel of the soft, black strands under my fingers. Each time I pulled, he groaned, deepening his strokes as he took me down his throat. Oh, yes , this man would be my undoing, if I let him.

“That’s it, Sunshine,” I said, testing the name out. He looked up at me with lust-filled eyes as he worked magic over the cock in his mouth…sucking, licking, swallowing around the head until I felt my balls drawing up. “Raven, I can’t take anymore.” He nodded, groaning until the vibrations around my dick set me off. “Gonna come,” I croaked. “If you don’t want it down your throat…ah, fuck …I can’t—”

He reached up and wrapped my cock with his hand, jacking me hard as he pulled off my dick. The sight of the thin thread of saliva that connected me with his swollen lips was all it took. I came and he pointed it at his face. The first blast hit his open mouth and then he closed his lips, taking the second on them, and the third on his chin. My come ran down his face as my climax finally tapered off.

I let go of his hair and bent over him, breathing in great gasps against the top of his sweaty head. When I’d composed myself, I straightened, looked down at where he was licking my spunk from his lips. He smiled at me as he reached up and wiped the rest of my release from his chin. I dropped to my knees in front of him, batting his hand away, and began kissing him, tasting my come in his mouth, before licking his cheeks and chin clean of it. When I returned to his mouth, he groaned in pleasure as I blended our lips together, kissing him languidly until my heart finally returned to a resting beat.