Boys in Blue 04 - Knight's Fall

A Total-E-Bound Publication

 

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Knight’s Fall
ISBN #978-0-85715-370-8
©Copyright Mia Watts 2010
Cover Art by Natalie Winters ©Copyright December 2010
Edited by Andrea Grimm
Total-E-Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

 

Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated
Total-e-burning.
KNIGHT’S FALL
Mia Watts
Dedication

I’m constantly learning about the dynamics in the gay community. There are so many layers of discrimination that are beyond normal social interaction for someone in my experience. I hope I’ve treated this matter with justice and respect.

I dedicate this book to all the individuals out there who aren’t understood, for whatever reason.

 

Any incorrect interpretations are purely the fault of this author.
Prologue

Agent Andy Powell could take down kidnapping cases, insurance fraud, and stake out the meanest sons of bitches littering the planet. He could seduce men into bed with a glib comment, or a slutty one. He’d done it before. He’d tried with Mack Sullivan. He might have succeeded if Mack weren’t so in love with Geo. But Andy had known he didn’t stand a chance with Mack. He’d had that look in his eyes when he talked about his partner that announced Mack was taken.

Andy had made a move on him anyway. Call him a fairy godmother, but he hated to see men insecure about their relationships for no apparent reason. It’s why he’d made the play. A sleazy one for sure. Persistent and a bit bitchy, Andy had pushed Mack knowing that until he admitted he loved Geo, the couple didn’t stand a chance of weathering the very forward advances of Geo’s ex.

Okay, and if Mack had slipped up and slept with Andy, then Andy would admit he’d been wrong about the two and take one for the team.
As though sleeping with Mack could be a hardship
, he thought, snorting to himself.
It was a service to struggling gay men that Andy provided. Claiming that identity and that of a crack FBI agent seemed a whole lot easier than just being Andy Powell, single man. Wearing the armour of the job was easy. Being himself and rejected for it sliced him to the core every time.
Thank God, Mack and Geo had each other. Andy felt more than a little bit of giddy pride for helping them.
Andy lifted his Cosmo, playfully swirling the pink liquid before taking a sip. Barbeque smoke drenched the air with savoury aromas and his stomach growled with appreciation.
Mack gathered the attention of his family and select friends by clinking on his mother’s drinking glass. Andy smiled, knowing from the flush of the handsome man’s cheeks what would happen next.
“Here it comes,” Nate Giamanti said.
“No way. Not at a mixed barbeque. He’ll tell his family privately,” David Rook argued. “Get that fiver ready. I’m telling you, he’s gonna announce,” Nate countered.
Andy took another sip, listening to the love play of the two men who were betting on Mack and Geo. He barely knew these other two, but Andy’s gaydar had singled them out as sympathisers immediately. It’s why he’d come over to talk to them.
“I’m with Nate,” Andy murmured.
“Correction, I’m with Nate,” Rook argued. He nudged Andy teasingly. “Mack told me about the way you wouldn’t take no for an answer. Don’t even try it with my man.”
Andy was used to being misunderstood. He couldn’t blame them. He’d behaved like a skeeze on purpose, aimed at self-gratification should he have been wrong about Mack. He hadn’t much liked himself for it.
“Shh.” Andy wanted to hear the unfolding revelation. Ever since he’d come out to his family—unsuccessfully—he’d taken a keen interest on how others did it. Maybe Andy had come out wrong. Maybe that’s why his family wouldn’t talk to him. Maybe if he’d done it differently. Like Mack was doing.
“…Geo and I have been dating for the past year,” Mack announced
Mrs. Sullivan gasped.
Mack continued, keeping a careful eye on his mother. “We didn’t tell anyone because we needed to know this was the real thing. We knew this would be difficult for our families to understand. Hell, it was difficult for us to understand.”
“Told ya,” Nate said.
Rook handed over a five dollar bill with good humour.
Mrs. Sullivan slapped Mack. Andy winced, feeling the blow as though he’d been struck.
Mack touched her arm lightly. Mrs. Sullivan sat heavily in a chair and looked up at him, lost.
Andy’s throat clogged with sympathy. He watched, praying for Mrs. Sullivan to understand.
“That was unexpected,” someone said from behind Andy.
“Not really,” Andy countered, not tearing his eyes away. “I think the mothers take it the hardest. All in all, she’s doing pretty well.”
Mr. Sullivan cuddled his wife. The music kicked up and Mack and Geo disappeared. Andy sighed, sipped his Cosmo to find he’d already finished it while watching the family drama.
“Geez,” he murmured with self-disgust at the empty martini glass.
“I’d get you another one, but my guy cred would slip,” the man behind him said.
Andy turned to face the newest addition. His eyes widened sharply as they took in the very lean, sexy lines of the unknown man before him. The man’s brown eyes smiled back and his lips twisted into a sardonic smile, before turning his gorgeous young face to the other two.
“Hey, guys,” the newcomer said.
“Knight, glad to see you made it,” Rook said, slapping the man on his shoulder.
“Free barbeque? I wouldn’t miss it,” Knight teased back.
“The carrot top is FBI,” Rook said, by way of introduction.
Knight’s lips curled into that sardonic twist and Andy realised that it was just the way this man’s mouth moved. And God, it was a sexy little genetic trait.
“Nate? You brought the Feebees to this shindig? You know you’re only here because of Rook. This is a boys in blue gathering. Kinda presumptuous to throw in another of your badges.” Knight shook Nate’s hand firmly.
“Hey, you’re the newbie here,” Nate razzed.
Andy‘s eyes widened as he stared from one man to the next. His tongue tied. He wanted Knight to look at him again, train those warm brown eyes on his face, see the wicked twist of amusement, wanted Knight to want to look at him. Andy’s skin practically tingled, standing near him and with sickening dread Andy realised he was totally screwed. There was something about an attractive man that made Andy act like an idiot.
“So, you are…?” Knight trailed off, fixing his steady gaze on Andy.
Andy jerked his hand up to take Knight’s. His karate chop took out the other man’s beer glass and threw it back over its owner.
Knight jumped as the cold liquid hit his chest. He fumbled but couldn’t catch the heavy glass before it hit the patio and shattered.
“Jesus! Shit!” Andy yelped. He scrambled to collect the pieces. Glancing up he said, “I’m so sorry.” It was only half-hearted. The beer plastered Knight’s cotton shirt to the leanly muscled chest. Knight’s hands rubbed his front as though swiping off the moisture, but it only reiterated the tight lines of Knight’s body. Andy’s mouth went utterly dry.
“That’s it,” Knight said jovially. “If I ever get a dog, I’m naming him Jesus.”
The others laughed. Andy sweated.
Something jabbed Andy’s finger. He swore and lifted it to his lips where he sucked at the slice made from one of the sharp edges of glass.
“Smooth, Agent Andy,” Rook joked.
Agent Andy? Agent Andy wasn’t here. Agent Andy could handle this with humour and a sexual entendre. Andy Powell, stripped to his knickers as a man with a building crush, was hopeless.
“It’s okay. I’ll get another one after we get this picked up,” Knight said. “I’ll get a broom.”
Mrs. Sullivan appeared out of nowhere, muttering platitudes as she gathered the mess. Andy stayed low, holding the dustpan for her.
“Sorry, Mrs. Sullivan.”
“Oh, Andy, it’s okay. We’re all a little rattled.” She smiled tightly.
In what seemed like slow motion, she reached over and tousled his hair. Already the three men over him were laughing. God, he’d never live that down.
Mr. Sullivan announced that the food was ready. Andy stood, stuffed his hands in his pants pockets, and eased away while the three men continued to talk. Coming to the barbeque had been a bad idea, even if he was invited.
With another longing look towards Knight, Andy slipped away. If there were any justice, he’d never run into Knight again.

Chapter One

Six Months Later…
“Why am I doing this again?” Andy asked his investigation partner, Lauren. “Team building. I swear the senator has a bee in her bonnet about interdepartmental

relations. I’m surprised they didn’t invite the DEA,” she mused with annoyance. Andy snorted. “You mean they didn’t?”
Lauren shrugged and dumped Andy’s second duffle at his feet. Considering her

slender build and heels, it astounded Andy that she hadn’t broken in half carrying the bag for him.

She saluted him saucily. “Well, stud, you’re on your own with a cabin full of men. Think you can handle it?”
“I know the equipment even better than you, though that’s hard to imagine,” he answered just as dryly.
“Ha. Ha. Better claim your bunk before the next inmate bus arrives.” Lauren sauntered off, not wobbling, though her heels sank into the dirt.
“I still think it’s unfair that you don’t have to do this with me,” he called after her.
“Don’t worry, sport, I pulled some strings for you. Or, should I say, rope? Don’t let the opportunity pass.” She paused, grinning at him over her shoulder. “Besides, someone has to hold down the fort. My moment of hell is scheduled for next month.”
What did that mean? What opportunity? Jesus, not only did he have this to contend with, but one of Lauren’s vague pranks?
Andy dragged his roller bag, missing a wheel, and the oversized duffel into the cabin. The screen door bumped his ass as he stopped to survey the cramped quarters. One week of team building camp with the FBI and selected police officers—eight men crammed to a cabin—was a recipe for disaster.
He’d been stripped of his partner and was clearly the only FBI agent to arrive so far. The other
campers
would be shuttled in on buses. He wouldn’t say he was an elitist, but Andy was selective about how he spent his free time. Hanging with the bugs and getting slapped on his back weren’t ideal blowing-off-steam options. He had no illusions this particular assignment would be easy. If he could treat it like an unusual undercover op, maybe it wouldn’t seem so bad. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the unrelenting summer heat, the wailing grasshoppers in knee-deep grass, the trickle of perspiration down his spine, and that smell of sulphur from the lake water in the faucets.
God. I’m going to smell like a flatulent fish for an entire week
.
With his luck, the other seven in his cabin would be straight.
“Nothing like a sweat hut of macho, grunting men rife with homophobia to keep you going,” Andy grumbled.
Picking a bunk near the door, he hoisted his bag to the mattress and began unpacking. If things got rowdy, he’d want a direct escape route.
As he drew the zipper back, he let out a bark of laughter. Bold letters in marker across a shoebox announced, Care Package, in Lauren’s handwriting. He whipped off the lid. Only Lauren would provide supplies for a wilderness rendezvous. She’d tucked inside lubricant, a box of twenty-four count ultra thin condoms, anal beads, and two kinds of plugs. One that vibrated. One that inflated.
“Jesus, Lauren. One time, at cop camp…” he muttered to himself, stealing and reappropriating a line from a popular movie a few years ago. This must have been what she’d hinted at.
The sound of bus breaks hissing outside sent Andy in a scurry to cover the box. Like a confused meerkat, he swayed with his stash until finally darting to the built in drawers beside his bunk. He shoved the box in the bottom of three and emptied the contents of his duffel by dumping it upside down.
But the drawers weren’t large and his bag contents were, so clothes and boxers and socks spilled over the edges in a giant pile.
Rowdy hoots and bellows of greeting swelled. Andy scrambled, down on hands and knees as he desperately stuffed his over abundance of clothing into the too-small drawer. The screen door creaked beside him.
Caught looking like an idiot with his hands buried in under things, he looked at the newcomer. Light backlit him and the three guys behind him. The rowdy calls paused. Someone hit a light switch and the men came into sharp focus.
Knight
.