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Never judge a sexy man by his cover…
Beau is deadly serious when it comes to his job as a homicide detective for the LVMPD. He also has a taste for the finer things in life, but no time to enjoy much of anything with such a heavy caseload—especially now that a serial killer is terrorizing the streets of Las Vegas.
Investigative technician Austin never met a snarky joke he didn’t like—or a set of stairs that couldn’t trip him up. One night after a devastating episode at work, Austin sees something else he likes—the handsome detective he’s spotted around the station. But after he makes a drunken fool of himself in front of Detective Williams, Austin is sure he’s destroyed any hope of ever going out with Beau on a real date.
Beau and Austin’s worlds collide when Austin is sent to pick up some evidence at the station. Amidst a myriad of twists and turns in the troubling serial-killer-style murders of Vegas conventioneers, Austin and Beau discover there’s more to the other than they’d originally thought. There might even be more they’d love to share—unless the killer has the final say.
About the Author
Morticia Knight spends most of her nights writing about men loving men forever after.
If there happens to be some friendly bondage or floggings involved, she doesn’t begrudge her characters whatever their filthy little heart’s desire. Even though she’s been crafting her naughty tales for more years than she’d like to share – her adventures as a published author began in 2011.
Once upon a time she was the lead singer in an indie rock band that toured the West Coast and charted on U.S. college radio. She currently resides on the northern Oregon coast and when she’s not fantasizing about hot men she takes walks along the ocean and annoys the local Karaoke bar patrons.
Read an Excerpt
Copyright © Morticia Knight 2019. All Rights Reserved, Totally Entwined Group Limited, T/A Pride Publishing.
“You wanna fuck later?”
“Jesus, Romeo. How can I resist when you put it like that?”
Austin Kent wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief before stuffing it back in his jeans pocket. The Las Vegas heat sucked ass in June. It had its moments the rest of the year too. Picking up his binoculars, he then peered through them at what, to anyone else, would appear to be an abandoned trailer. He ignored Pete’s offer. Austin was currently more interested in the police officer’s protection than his dick.
Don’t see why I can’t carry a piece on the job.
Apparently, investigative technicians weren’t considered to be the bad-asses of the justice system in Vegas.
Pete nudged him with his elbow. “Was that a yes?”
Austin decided it wouldn’t be a good idea to punch Ken, since it would give away their location. Other than that, it was an awesome idea.
“That was a vehement ‘no’. I never know what I’m getting into with you.”
“I thought you enjoyed last time.”
“I shot a load. That part I enjoyed. The rest I could’ve done without.”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“Oh, I was surprised all right.”
“You know, a lot of guys like it when—”
“Shh. Here comes Daniel now.”
Pete grabbed the binoculars. “Shit. In the nick of time too. Our boy’s on the move.”
“Hey. Do you mind?” Austin yanked the glasses back then peered through the lenses. “Dammit.”
It looked as if his witness was going to evade being served yet again. The scenario was ironic since Austin had originally thought it would be quick and simple. He’d met Vinnie at the First Annual Powwow on the Paiute Indian Reservation when they were both ten years old. Austin’s dad was almost full-blooded and had taken him so he could experience the culture. He’d explained that even though Austin wasn’t being raised on the Rez, he should still learn about that part of his heritage. Ever since then, he and Vinnie had been close friends—even if things had eroded somewhat in recent years. It sucked to be the one who had to serve him.
Austin missed his dad. The guy had treated him well. He’d always told Austin to live his life the way he wanted, that when he got older, people would try to change him—tell him how he should be. Austin had wondered if his dad had known all along that he was gay. Soon after that first Powwow, the Gulf War had begun, and his dad had been a part of Operation Desert Shield. He’d never come back.
“Hey, guys, we had a scuffle at the golf course. I got here as soon as I could.” Their backup, Daniel Ochoa—Pete’s fellow officer of Paiute law enforcement—kept his voice low as he approached.
Austin snorted. “I guess those old white guys can get vicious on the green.”
“You have no idea.”
Austin and Pete were hidden behind a large boulder. Daniel crouched next to them and Austin noted that the Paiute officer had parked his vehicle down the incline and out of sight. He’d driven in on the same back desert road that he and Pete had used to avoid detection. Pete elbowed him in the ribs again.
“Look, look, look. He wasn’t leaving. Vinnie’s just sitting out there smoking.” Pete held the binoculars pressed to his face. “This is better, man. We can see everything around him.”
“Except for who’s in the trailer, dickwad.”
Daniel nodded his head. “Austin’s right. There’s no telling who might be in there. We approach Vinnie now and we could get picked off in an instant. One of Marquez’s guys could be in there cooking. We should secure the residence before Austin tries to serve him.”
Pete frowned, seemingly butthurt over Daniel not taking his side. “There’s never been any intel to indicate Vinnie’s trailer was being used to manufacture meth.”
“Right.” Daniel swatted at a small bug flitting around his sweat-soaked face. “But there hasn’t been any indicator that he wasn’t cooking in his home either.”
Home was too kind a word. Vinnie’s abode wasn’t in any danger of being featured in Architectural Digest—or anywhere, ever. It was lucky to still be upright. The dented, rusted mess was a blight set at the rear of his mom’s property, a mockery to her beautiful, recently built house. He’d told Austin a few years back that as long as he didn’t have to see her face or hear her shit, he didn’t care what he lived in.
Austin sighed, too stressed out from the whole cockstorm that had been his day to dwell on all that had gone wrong with the life of one of his closest friends. There was a job to do and he was the fucker who got to serve a witness subpoena to someone who would view it as an act of betrayal.
“Okay then. What’s the plan?” Austin directed his question to Daniel.
Daniel regarded him as Pete continued to stare through the binoculars. “I’m gonna sneak around the back. I can make it without detection if I keep low behind the sage brush over there.” He gestured toward the area he meant. “When I radio that the trailer is clear, I want you both to advance on him.” Daniel turned to Pete who seemed to finally be paying attention. “Don’t draw on him but be ready. We don’t want to come at him aggressively, get him worked up. Hopefully, when he sees Austin, he’ll be cool.”
Austin prayed Daniel was right. Since Vinnie had been off his meds, no one knew what to expect from him anymore. Iraq hadn’t been kind to anyone close to Austin. Not only had he lost his dad in the Gulf War, he’d in essence lost his closest friend to the Iraq War. Whatever it was that had happened to Vinnie when he’d served had forever broken him.
“Be ready.” Daniel turned toward the trailer but whispered over his shoulder before taking off. “Pete, make sure your radio is on low and listen for my all clear.”
Pete grunted after Daniel was out of earshot. “Can you believe that shit? He always treats me like I’m an idiot.”
Even though Pete had walked right into that one, Austin was too cranky and heat exhausted to run with it. He bit at his lip and tried to get his bristly dark hair to stay off his face. He typically kept it short—it would get too frizzy otherwise. But he was a busy guy, and other than staying in somewhat good physical shape, he didn’t give too much thought to his appearance.
A small crackle sounded from Pete’s radio, then he whispered into it. He nodded at Austin to go ahead. Austin’s joints complained at being in the unforgiving position for so long as he rose to his feet. He was only thirty-five years old, but his body was constantly being abused on the job in one way or another. It didn’t help that he could be a bit klutzy at times either. A nice soak in the hot tub at his condo later would be a welcome treat.
The first rush of pebbles and dirt down the incline once they’d gotten close to their target caused Vinnie to twist around. His eyes widened in shock as he regarded them both then quickly narrowed in anger as he glared at Austin. He threw his cigarette to the ground.
Come on, guy. It’s me. Just doin’ my job.