Jumping In by Cardeno C. Page B

thrust against Clint. “Especially here.” He circled his hips, rubbing his dick against the outside of Clint’s hole. “Want to do you bare, baby. Want to come inside.”
    Clint’s breath caught at the thought.
    “I haven’t been with anyone in almost six months, not since I first saw you in September.” Hawk kissed the back of Clint’s neck. “Tell me I can fuck you raw later.” He took Clint’s skin between his teeth and then sucked. “Say you want it, baby. Say you want me.”
    Undeniably aroused by the idea, Clint turned his head, met Hawk’s gaze, and said, “Yes. I want you. Come in me.”
    Hawk’s eyes widened, he gasped, and then he stilled as hot wetness coated Clint’s lower back.
    His body sated and boneless, Clint rolled onto his side and then tugged Hawk down so they were face-to-face. He flung his leg over Hawk’s thigh and kissed his chest, shoulders, and neck as Hawk’s gasps evened into regular breaths.
    “Are you back to the land of the fully-conscious or are you still brain-addled from that orgasm?” he asked.
    “Little of both.” Hawk sighed contentedly, curled his arm around Clint’s neck, and stroked his hair. “Did you mean what you said?” he asked quietly.
    Clint took in a deep breath and met Hawk’s gaze.
    “Did you?”
    “Oh, yeah,” Hawk said, his husky voice leaving no doubt which question he was answering.
    “Not the fucking bare.” Clint licked his lips and, when Hawk furrowed his brow in confusion, added, “You moved to Hawthorne in late November, after the election.”
    “Ah,” Hawk said in understanding. “And you’re wondering why.”
    “No.” Clint shook his head. “I know you moved here to work for Mayor Martinez. I’m asking what you meant about seeing me in September when we didn’t know each other yet.”
    The smile that took over Hawk’s face was wicked.
    “When I told Gabriel I was moving here, he asked me to take the deputy mayor job as a favor to him and I agreed. The job isn’t the reason I came to Hawthorne. You are.”
    Clint’s jaw dropped.
    “Taking you off-guard is fun.” Hawk grinned manically. “And I’m really good at it.”
    Rolling his eyes, Clint said, “Stop gloating and explain yourself.”
    “It’s simple, really.” Hawk shoved two pillows under his head, lay on his back, and pulled Clint on top of him. “I’m a political and managerial consultant based out of D.C. Or at least I was. Gabriel was a close friend of my father’s so when things were going south in his reelection campaign, he asked for my help. I came down here to get the lay of the land and I saw you.”
    He combed his fingers through Clint’s hair. “You were at a softball game. Police versus firefighters. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. You were wearing a black Rolling Stones T-shirt that wasn’t tight but you’d been sweating so it was clinging to your chest. I watched you run the bases, joke around with your teammates, and then wave everyone off when they were going for beers, so I followed you.”
    “We have a name for that, you know?”
    “Falling in love?”
    “The technical term is stalking.”
    “Tomato, tomato,” Hawk said, pronouncing the word differently each time. “Anyway, you went to the veterinarian’s office to visit your dog.”
    “Fluffy,” Clint said, remembering his frequent trips to the vet when his dog was near death. “She’d whelped her pups in a storage shed behind the strip mall off Fourth. A few high school kids set off firecrackers out there and one hit the brush outside the shed and caught the whole thing on fire. She kept going into the building to get her pups out, didn’t stop until every last one of them was safely away from the danger.”
    “Brave dog.”
    “She is.”
    “The receptionist at the vet’s said they didn’t think she’d make it but you insisted they try to save her, footed all the bills, and came to visit her twice a day.” Hawk kissed Clint’s forehead. “I fell in love