Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Doug had a rich girlfriend who showered him with expensive gifts, but she never gave him cash. Not to mention that the cars and condo were all in her name. He still had to work for his money. Doug already had a mechanic’s certification and worked full-time at a Chevy dealer, but he’d always wanted his own shop, specializing in restoring classics. He did porn shoots to help them reach their financial goal faster and Furi loved his best friend’s dedication.
“Buddy, take the money out of your savings and buy your school stuff. I’ll pick up a few extra scenes this month to cover it.”
“I can’t ask you to do that, Doug. That isn’t right. Fifty/fifty all the way, remember?” Doug pulled him into an embrace. “You’re not asking. I’m offering. Besides it’s just fucking. Two or three extra scenes ain’t nothing.” Doug pulled back and held on to Furi’s neck, looking into his eyes. “Especially if it means saving my best friend’s sanity.”
Furi hugged him back hard. No one had ever sacrificed anything for him. Not since his father was alive. Now he had a real friend willing to fuck strangers on screen, just so he didn’t have to. Well hell. “I love you, man. Damnit. Thank you, Doug.”
“I know you do, you sensitive little girl. Gotta keep that virtue of yours intact.” Doug’s soft laugh blew Furi’s hair as they stood that way a little longer. “I love you too, man.”
They parted and turned in opposite directions as both men discreetly wiped at their eyes.
“Let’s go tell these sex fiends that they can take their popcorn and goobers and go the fuck home, the show is cancelled.” Doug hooked his arm around Furi’s neck and pulled him through the parking lot and into the small building.
‘I’ve Already Screwed it Up’
Syn stayed at the speed limit on his way home, he was in no rush. Work had been productive. Meeting after meeting and mounds of paperwork. God had officially introduced him to their team as third in command, so technically he was a Sergeant now and hopefully his pay would reflect that promotion soon. The guys were an easy group to command, each of them the best in his specialty.
The first half of the day was spent with the team getting him up to speed on their current cases. He wasn’t afraid to jump right in and take charge. It’s what Syn did best. Managing and controlling situations. He wasn’t nervous about calling the Detectives out on their bullshit and vice versa. The laid-back-say-what’s-on-your-mind-no-hard-feelings camaraderie was simple to adjust to. Syn’s feelings weren’t easily hurt so he had no problem with God’s tough-as-nails attitude or Day’s snide remarks. Simply put: you had to have skin as tough as a rhino to survive on this task force. Now it was evening and after listening to God and Day heatedly dispute how they were going to prioritize the next two cases, Syn and several other members had eased out quietly when the looks between them began to turn less angry and more hungry. He shook his head and secretly wished he could be a fly on the wall in their bedroom tonight. What the hell? No I don’t.
Syn needed to get laid, but he couldn’t get tattooed arms and long, soft brown hair out of his head. Strong, lean body mixed with soft features. Jesus, fuck. Syn had to admit the sexy bartender did look like his ex-roommate. When Syn had graduated from the Philadelphia police academy he’d chosen to apply to a ‘roommate wanted’ ad posted in the officers' break room. Nothing ever came of him and Rhodes but damn if there weren’t some pretty intense glances and quick touches. Rhodes was gay and made sure that Syn knew he was wanted by the big man. Syn was just too afraid to tell his roommate exactly what he wanted Rhodes to do to him.
It was Friday night and he didn’t have anywhere to be. He wasn’t overly eager to go to his barely furnished apartment and order takeout. He’d thought about taking some of the guys up on their offer to meet at a bar called Henry’s, but he doubted he’d make it there. He actually had another bar in mind tonight. Rather, another bartender.
Syn heaved a sigh as another car sped past him. Okay, that lady was like ninety years old. He pressed down on the accelerator and moved to snag a spot right in front of his building. Syn checked his watch, it was five minutes after eight, just enough time to go inside and take a quick shower.
Syn had on a tight, black t-shirt with dark blue jeans. He typically didn’t do anything with his dark brown hair; he kept it cut close on the sides and simply finger-combed the length on top. He could probably use a shave, but decided to let the two-day old growth alone. Syn tucked his Glock 37 in his waistband, always feeling comforted by the weight of his weapon nestled snugly against the base of his spine. He tucked his handcuffs, wallet and his badge in his inside coat pocket and headed for the door. As soon as he exited he saw his neighbor coming down the hall toward him with a pizza box in his hand, flanked by two other guys that looked like metal-head stoners.