Embracing his syn, p.10
Embracing His Syn, page 10
Furi was sitting on the bus staring blindly out the window. Filming had taken way longer than he’d expected. After doing the one hour live, Mack had the producers do a new set and wardrobe to mix in some original material for his solo. That took over three hours before he was able to start posing for some quick shots. He didn’t even have time to go home before his shift at the pub.
Now that the orgasmic bliss had worn off, his mind clicked back on. He didn’t want to think about all those damn concerns because he had no clue which issue to tackle first: school finals that were next week, the risk of gambling his entire savings on signing a lease for a garage, Sasha’s certifiable behavior, his deep desire for a possibly in-the-closet-will-snap-my-neck-in-my-sleep-if-we-fuck detective, his schizo soon-to-be-ex-husband and brother-n-law, Starman’s death. Beaten and killed by women. Fuck. Furi put his ear buds in and tried to drown out his thoughts with some Green Day as he closed his eyes and settled in for the ride to the pub.
Furi groaned as soon as he pulled open the thick wooden door. The place was already filling up with obnoxious, horny college kids. Furi eased his way in between groups to get to the opening at the end of the bar. Furi felt a firm grip on his arm trying to turn him around. He yanked his arm loose, while spinning to look into dark eyes. Fuck. Syn.
‘From Good to Sexy to Bad to Totally Fucked’
It was almost seven before Syn got home. It was Saturday for fuck’s sake. After he’d returned from lunch it was hours of watching Jason Starman fuck every female member of Illustra’s roster, as the Detectives tried to decipher what woman liked it and which could possibly feel violated. Starman had definitely been one of the more popular entertainers, he had really great ratings. Luckily Day had called an end to it, because Syn was unbelievably horny.
He’d been at the pub for almost forty-five minutes before concluding that perhaps Furi wasn’t working tonight. He’d just come out the restroom, heading back to the bar to pay his tab when he saw the gorgeous man making his way through the crowd. Syn’s heart rate picked up and he berated himself for feeling this for a man that’d blown him off the last couple times he’d seen him. His damp hair was pulled back into a ponytail and the tip of it just reached the middle of his shoulders. He had on the pub’s t-shirt tucked into his low-slung jeans. Syn saw he had a five o’clock shadow darkening his otherwise soft face. Damn, he looked fucking edible. He didn’t think, he just reached out and wrapped his hand around the man’s tight bicep. Furi angrily yanked it away and spun as if he was about to strike him.
“Hey, easy. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you,” Syn said quickly.
Furi gave him a half-smile that vanished way too fast for Syn’s liking. Now narrowed dark eyes stared back at him. “If you didn’t mean to, why are you still holding my arm?” Furi’s voice held a sensual bass that he’d secretly missed.
Syn looked down where his hand still rested, and removed it. “Right,” he mumbled.
Furi’s eyes were so mesmerizing; Syn could’ve stared into them for the rest of the evening. He honestly didn’t know what to say. Syn hadn’t realized how much he needed someone until he came here … until he saw him. He thought he saw a flash of heat in Furi’s eyes as he watched him, obviously waiting on Syn to speak. Say something.
Furi leaned in, not quite coming into contact with Syn’s cheek and told him, “I gotta get to work.”
Syn didn’t want him to go. He looked so beautiful, smelled so good. He needed to talk to him, maybe ask if Furi was seeing someone. “I have to go back to work too, but can I give you a ride home after your shift?” Syn had never felt so exposed. After he’d asked the question he immediately wanted to take it back. He’d never liked putting himself out there but this was what he needed to work on. He’d never get anywhere if he didn’t at least try. Furi stepped in closer to him and Syn fought his reflex to take a step back. Furi grabbed his wrist and moved him quickly through the customers waiting for the bathrooms and pushed open the back door that led to the parking lot.
Syn quickly took in his surroundings before focusing back on Furi.
“What’s wrong, why’d you bring me back here?”
“What’s your angle, Detective? Why are you lingering around my job and offering me rides, huh?” Furi forced those questions through gritted teeth.
“Why are you angry? It’s just a ride. I was trying to be nice,” Syn said with little conviction, while avoiding answering Furi’s questions. He didn’t have an angle and he wasn’t sure why he was drawn to him. He just wanted to be around this guy, if for nothing else then to at least be friends.
Furi narrowed his eyes again and stepped into Syn’s space. “Are you gay, Detective?”
There it was. The million-dollar question. Was he gay? He’d never asked himself that. He’d only slept with women before, but had never felt anything more for them than an easy friends-with-benefits involvement. Rhodes was the only person that he’d ever felt a connection with. A man. Syn felt his mouth move, but no sound was coming out. Fuck.
Furi looked at him skeptically. “Uh huh. Just like I thought. Who are you working for? Him. He send you? Did he hire you to find me? Are you a private detective?”
That accusation cut through Syn's speechlessness. “Whoa. I work for the city of Atlanta. What are you talking about? Who is him? Is someone after you?” Syn didn’t realize he’d grabbed Furi’s shoulders, forcing him to look into his eyes until Furi threw his arms up and dislodged Syn’s grip.
“Take your goddamn hands off of me! I’m sick of people thinking they can put their fucking hands on me! Stay the fuck away from me, Detective.” Furi shoved past him and reached for the door.
Syn jumped in front of it before Furi could get it open. He yelled right back at Furi, “My name is Syn! I’m not here as a Detective! I don’t know who him is, nor do I work for him.” Syn put up air quotes for the word him. “I just wanted to talk to you!”
“About what?” Furi yelled. They were in each other’s faces, chest bumping each other.
“I don’t fucking know! About you. About me. About the damn Falcons' game last week. About the weather. About why there’s so many goddamn reality TV shows. About what-the-hell-ever! That’s what people do when they want to get to know someone!” Syn stepped back and gripped his hair blowing out a long frustrated breath. He felt so ridiculous, was so annoyed that he was seconds away from just walking away. “Fuck! I didn’t think dating was this damn hard.”
“That’s what you’re trying to do, Detective? Date me?” Furi’s tone and facial expression were full of skepticism. “Because I don’t want to date. Dating is stupid. What the hell is dating anyway? Some long drawn out process of elimination where you both present your best side while hiding the real you, and you can only keep that charade going for about three months because your bullshit and lies eventually leak out and then you have to spend the next three months getting to know each other for real.”
“Geez, man, you are insanely cynical. Do you always over-analyze everything? Why can’t we just–”
Furi cut him off, “Because. I’m only interested in gay men. Not men that might or might not be gay, or men that are looking for an experiment, or men that are fucked up in the head. I’ve been there. Done that, I’m never going there again. It almost cost me my li–”
Syn turned at Furi’s words. He walked back to him slowly. He could see pain in Furi’s eyes and Syn wanted to take it all away. Take all the hurt this man had experienced, and put it on himself, because he could handle it. All he wanted was to see Furi smile, see him uninhibited, full of passion. Full of him. Syn just barely held in his groan. He wanted this damn man. God help him, he did. He let out a slow calming breath and brought his hands up to cup Furi’s cheeks. He wanted to kiss him. Taste him. Feel Furi moan his name into his mouth and swallow it down. Fuck, he wanted that and so much more. Furi was looking hard at him, waiting. His eyes roamed Syn’s face before settling on his lips. Syn needed this; all he had to do was take it. Take it goddamnit.
Furi took it for him. Syn felt confident, sure hands on his own cheeks and soft, beautiful lips against his. Furi took Syn’s control. He knocked his hands down and grabbed the material of his jean jacket, pushing him up against the wall right there behind the pub, and then those lush lips were on him again. Taking him. Syn’s eyes were rolling behind his closed lids. Fuck, it felt so good. He could’ve never imagined how good. Syn wrapped his arms around Furi’s back and squeezed him close. He needed this contact more than he needed his next breath, needed Furi’s heat. Damn, he needed Furi's control. Syn heard moans and whimpers as he let his tongue dance with Furi’s. An erotic dance full of entrada and sacada flips. Fast then slow. Furi kissed like no one had ever kissed Syn. Strong, demanding; and he did it all with the softest fucking lips Syn had ever felt. Syn had dreamed of those plump, pink lips on him, on his mouth, on his neck, on his chest, on his cock. There the sounds were again, needy whimpers. Fuck, he was making those sounds. Syn wrenched his mouth away. He was embarrassed. He’d been moaning like a two-dollar hooker. He took in a hard breath, not meeting Furi’s eyes.
“Don’t turn away from me,” Furi snapped.
Oh God. Syn turned back. He’d obeyed. Fuck. Furi grasped the back of his head and took his mouth again. Syn felt his body go limp in Furi’s tight hold, letting himself just feel. He did what he’d wanted to do since laying eyes on Furi. Syn reached up and pulled the rubber band that held Furi’s long hair, releasing those beautiful tresses. He dug in with both hands and it was just as soft as he’d imagined.
“Say my name, please,” Syn moaned into Furi’s hot mouth. God, he wanted to hear Furi’s rough voice groan his name in the heat of passion.
The stubborn man just looked at him defiantly and claimed his mouth again. After Furi concluded the kiss of erotic Argentine Tango, he masterfully transitioned into a Viennese Waltz, his tongue gliding sensually over teeth and lips, making Syn swoon like a schoolboy with a crush. Furi eased off the kiss just letting the tip of his tongue skate along Syn’s parted mouth. Making Syn feel sexier than he ever had. Furi stopped torturously teasing him, waited for Syn to stop falling and open his eyes. Syn shamelessly chased Furi’s mouth, and ended up burying his nose in the man’s long hair. It didn’t smell sweet or citrusy like a woman's. It smelled clean and masculine, with hints of sandalwood and white musk. Syn didn’t want to come down from this feeling.
Furi’s voice was a seriously sexual growl, “Be here at midnight.”
Syn watched Furi disappear into the darkness of the pub. He stared at the door for a few seconds, gathering himself before he pried his back off the wall. Syn’s cock was so hard he walked with a limp back to his truck. He was going to be late getting back to the precinct, but whatever, he was feeling damn good.
The drive to the station was long enough for Syn to decide that he was going to be back to pick up Furi by midnight: sharp. He’d take Furi home and walk him to his door. That’s what people did when they were dating, right? Syn shook his head. Whatever it was called nowadays, Syn was going to give it his best shot. God and Day were so in love, it radiated from them. Ro and Johnson were in love. The hot IT guy’s boyfriend came and had lunch with him every day if they were in the precinct. He was part of a team where it was alright to be gay and out, and badass too. All Syn wanted was the respect that he deserved ... no that he’d earned. Now he wanted the last piece of himself to snap into place to make him whole.
“What you got, Ro?” Syn plopped down in his chair and flicked his wrist looking at his watch for the fifth time in thirty minutes. It was only five minutes to ten; midnight couldn’t come fast enough to suit him.
“Got a hot date tonight, Sarge?” Ro chuckled as he handed Syn the next group of Illustra’s entertainers that were being picked up for questioning.
Syn flushed but chose to ignore Ro’s smug grin. “Shut up,” he mumbled, and flipped open the next file. He flinched so hard his neck popped. Syn’s breath caught at the image that stared back at him.
“Oh yeah. This is the one I wanted to mention, he might be a prime suspect.”
Syn threw his hand up, stopping Ro. This couldn’t be happening. “I thought we’d concluded that the killers were women from that crazy-ass men-bashing group, BTNS?”
“Yes, we did. But hear me out; there may be more players in this. Starman was definitely taken out by women but he could’ve been set up by others. This guy's name is Furious Gray Barkley. During questioning, the owner of Illustra, Johnathan Mack said that Furious Barkley, who performs as Furious Styles, was scheduled to do a movie with Sasha Pain but declined. Furious’ replacement was our vic.” Ro rubbed his smooth face and kept talking, oblivious to Syn’s inner turmoil. “Kicker is, although this Furious Gray Barkley has no priors, he’s also known as Furious Gray Nicks. Husband to Patrick Nicks. That image there is a photo that was given to the Charlotte Mecklenburg Police Department when Furious’ husband filed a missing persons on him almost a year ago. Furious is on the run and I want to know why. I contacted the husband but had to leave a message. I already sent Jameson to pick him up. He works at a pub in ... hmmm.” Ro’s eyebrows rose. “In your neighborhood.”
“Yeah I see,” Syn said quietly. Ro’s phone rang and he picked it up, giving Syn a couple of private minutes, which were needed because his heart was beating a mile a minute. The fates can’t be that cruel. To make the only man, no forget that; the only person that Syn had been interested in in over ten years a suspect in a murder case he was overseeing. On top of everything else, the man is married. This isn’t good. Ro disconnected his call and Syn asked him, “How soon before this one arrives?”
“He’s already here in room five. You coming?” Ro asked, taking Furious’ file from his hands.
“I’ll watch.” Syn walked beside Ro to the interrogation rooms. Then he thought better of it, and decided he needed to be honest with his men. They worked effectively together, but most of all they had each other's backs. Ro was a good man and Syn felt he could trust him. “Ro wait.”
“What’s up?”
Syn blew out a breath and scratched at the hair on top of his head, which was grown out enough that it was already starting to curl.
“Syn what’s going on?” Ro looked genuinely concerned, his vibrant blue eyes staring intently at him.
Syn looked back and forth as uniforms brushed passed them in the hall. Ro clasped a firm grip on Syn’s shoulder and ushered him into one of the vacant offices. “Talk to me man. You’re my Sarge but I consider you a friend first. That’s the way we operate. If you have a problem, then I have a fuckin’ problem, and so do twenty-one other men. But between you and me right now, what’s up?”
Syn rubbed the back of his neck and tried to ease some of the tension there. “This guy Furious.”
Ro shook his head indicating he was listening.
“I’m kind of, um … we uh … he’s my,” Syn stuttered not quite finding the right words.
“You know him and you like him,” Ro finished for him.
Syn looked Ro in the eye. “Yeah, I like him.” Syn took a deep breath. “He’s the first him that I’ve liked in a very long time.”
“I see.” Ro rubbed his hand over his cheek again. Syn knew the gesture meant Ro was thinking.
“Shit’s all fucked up now. I can’t date a goddamn suspect, a married goddamn suspect.”
“Hey whoa. We don’t know the situation with the marriage yet. The reasons I thought he could be a suspect? They might be easily explained away.”
“You’re the one said you think he’s hiding something,” Syn argued.
“Yes, I did. This guy is married, right? He leaves his husband in a way that makes the man file a missing persons on him, and then Furious changes his name, and not back to his birth name. It looks like he’s hiding from him, I just need to find out why.” Ro pulled a paper from the file. “This shows him making regular deposits to an account in a bank located in Los Angeles. The account is under a different name and has over ninety thousand dollars in it.”
“So he stole his husband’s money and hauled ass in the middle of the night. Fuckin’ great.” Syn yanked the door open, ready to charge into interrogation room five and tell Furious he could go to hell.
“Geez, hold on a minute, Sarge.” Ro grabbed his arm and pulled him back inside, slamming the door closed. “No wonder Day likes you so much. Both of you go off half-cocked all the fucking time. That money wasn’t stolen. It was life insurance proceeds from when his father died. He might’ve been hiding it from the husband. The contributions he’s been making since then have been small but frequent.”
“He’s a porn star, Ronowski! I can’t date a damn porn star! Fucking other women and probably men. What the fuck?” Syn was yelling and pacing now. He knew it wasn’t fair to yell at Ro, but he was the only one there now. After a few seconds Syn turned and saw Ro was staring down at the file not saying anything. “Damnit! Say something.”
“You done?” Ro asked calmly.
“What?” Syn asked dumbly.
“I was waiting for you to finish your tantrum.” Ro smiled that boy-next-door grin that made people calm. “Now, as far as the porn. It’s a het site only, so no male on male. But he doesn’t fuck the women either. Never has.”
“What?” Syn asked for the second time and took the paper that Ro handed to him. It was a complete list of Furi’s movies. Every one of them were solo masturbation sessions, about fifteen minutes long, some less than that. That made Syn exhale and before he knew it one side of his mouth was cocked up into a grin.
“Ah. That’s better.” Ro chuckled. “Now let’s stop trying to guess the answers about the husband and go talk to your man.”
“He’s gonna wonder why you're questioning him about his husband on a homicide that doesn’t have anything to do with his marriage. He’ll probably scream for a lawyer before you can get anything out of him,” Syn said with frustration.
