Sweet Southern Comfort

Then the shithead behind me started grabbing my ass. He leaned into me, letting me smell the alcohol on his breath as he tried to talk me into going home with him. "I'm a hot top, I can make your ass beg." I had scoffed at him, telling him no. Then he started grabbing my chest. I hadn't minded when that guy lifted my shirt; I was too warm on the dance floor and the breeze felt good against my sweaty body. Of course, if I were to be honest, the hot glances I got helped; a lot.

When the asshole behind me started grinding his hard on into my hip, I got uncomfortable. I didn't want to fuck. All I wanted to do was dance. After I repeatedly told him what he could go do with himself, I got fed up and kneed him in the crotch. It wasn't the most gentlemanly thing I could have done, but still... he had no right to grope me after I'd told him no.

Then the tall man grabbed my arm and propelled me out of the club. His hand was warm and sent tingles running through me, something the drunken moron sure as hell hadn't done. When we got outside and he started yelling at me, I lost it. How dare he. I hadn't meant to start a brawl, but still. It wasn't my fault. Then he dragged me out under the streetlight.

"Liam? Liam McCoy?"

Oh Jesus! I should have recognized that lazy southern drawl, but I hadn't. "Chief?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" We'd said it at the same time, causing both of us to pause. He started laughing; I couldn't join him.

"Oh shut up!" What an asshole. I knew that sympathy he'd tried to give me the Wednesday after the funeral was false. I'd actually thought it was sweet, how he bumbled his way through it. But any nice thoughts I had about our Chief of Police were now gone. I started to stomp away towards my truck.

"Liam! Wait." He couldn't stop laughing. I was absolutely humiliated. I sped off, with him trying to only open my door once. Bastard.

Once I got home, I stripped off the clothes Claire had purchased for me, throwing them in a pile. Damn it! I threw myself into bed, staring at the ceiling for a long time. Who had I been kidding? This wasn't easy. The small kernel of hope I'd nursed for years flickered so badly, it almost went out.

*** Villain ***

As bedlam broke out in the club, I hightailed it out of there, moving fast and swift, ducking around the corner as the cops showed up. Had they caught on? Were they coming for me? After I made it home, my pulse still skittered, but not with fear. Who was that man on the dance floor? Tall, dark, handsome, incredibly sexy. I had to have him. No matter what, I must have him.

I moved through my condo, stripping off my clothes, imagining what it would be like to possess that man. Frantic, beyond desperate, I moved about, pushing things off shelves, throwing pillows off my bed, but nothing would calm this rampaging need inside. Finally, to calm the voices, the lust, the desire, I stepped out onto the balcony and let the cool air caress me, trying to calm the heated hunger. It didn't work. Grasping my flesh, I stroked furiously until I erupted, appeasing for a moment the ravenous need inside me.

I sank back against my pillows, chuckling. Soon. Very soon.

*** Liam ***

The next morning, my attitude had improved greatly. So big deal, the first night went south. I could handle all that. What embarrassed me the most was that Jackson LeDeux was there and had to save me. The man was nice looking to be sure. When he'd moved to town, I'd noticed him, just like I noticed every guy. There were rumors of course, but nothing that proved to be true. The man was a bachelor and didn't date. In a town this small, there was no such thing as privacy. You just learned to give it up when you lived in a small town. Hell, the whole town knew when Claire lost her virginity to Bobby Caldwell in the backseat of his car at the drive-in. Since the whole thing happened out of town, I could live with the embarrassment of him seeing me at the club.

Sunday afternoon, I usually had dinner over at Claire's house. I had just pulled up when a police car pulled in behind me. It couldn't be. Fate played a cruel trick on me. Jackson LeDeux. Again.

"Chief." Okay, so my voice was cold, but I was still mortified by what had happened.

"Liam. How're you doin'?" The man's voice did odd things to me. It never had before.

Sighing, I hoped this would be a quick conversation. "What can I do for you, Chief?"

His chuckle was smug, just like his lecherous grin. "Now after last night, the least you could do is call me Jackson."

Please God! Give me patience. "What can I do for you, Jackson?"

He sauntered over to me, showing off his tall, lean frame. He wore jeans and a white tee. It looked awful darn good on him. "I need to talk to you. There's some stuff goin' on that you don't know about."

Okay, so perhaps he wasn't such an ass. "What?"

His face got really serious as he looked at me. "There's someone pushing some bad drugs at the clubs. I want you to be careful."

"I don't do drugs."

His smile only arched up one side of his mouth. "I didn't think you did, but it doesn't matter. Whoever is doing it is slipping it into people's drinks."

I swallowed hard. Damn it. Perhaps celibacy wasn't so bad. "I didn't drink anything last night."

"I know that, Liam." His eyes were a rich, smoky brown that seemed to look deep inside, somewhere I didn't know if I wanted him looking. "But just in case, I think it'd be better if you let me know the next time you're gonna go clubbing. I'll watch your back."

That was the wrong thing to say. It pissed me off, really bad. "Why do you want to watch over me? Who the hell do you think you are?"

I must have surprised him, because he took a step back and raised his hands, palm out. "Look. I don't want you to get hurt. Okay?"

That mollified me. But damn it, I was still embarrassed. "Thanks, Jackson."

His smile returned, almost lethal with how it made my stomach flutter. "No problem."

I didn't know what to say or do, so I found myself shuffle my feet a bit. Then it dawned on me. "You're working the case, aren't you?"

His curse was quiet, but creative. "Yeah, I am." He looked up at me, from beneath a long set of dark lashes. "Promise you won't blow my cover?"

I never had the chance to answer. Claire stuck her head out the door, calling to me. "Liam! Get your ass in here. Hello Chief!"

He turned to my cousin. "Ma'am."

If I could have leapt over the rhododendron onto the porch to shut her mouth, I doubt I could have stopped her. "Want to join us for dinner?"

He looked over at me, smothering laughter when he saw how uncomfortable I was. "I'd be delighted to."

He leapt onto the porch, taking the four steps in one stride. While I admired what the move did to the jeans covering him and how they molded to him, I wished with all my might for the earth to swallow me whole. Little did I know that our conversation in front of Claire's house was to be the least unpleasant part of the evening.

Dinner went great, delicious like always. I guess that's why Claire's little diner downtown was so popular. Jack and Claire talked for a long time, about me mostly. She told him all about our trip into town the previous day. He asked about my hair, my clothes, everything. I was beginning to feel like a documentary subject.

When we went outside, after dinner, I was thrilled. This evening would be over soon. Or so I thought. Claire brought out some homemade brownies. I could never resist them. After I watched Jackson eat four, I knew he couldn't either. When the phone rang, Claire excused herself and went back inside.

"You know, what you did to your hair looks good."

As compliments go, it wasn't the best, but I'd take anything at this moment. "Dinner is over. You can go home now."

His chuckle was warm and it made my palms sweat. "But I'm having so much fun, Liam. You don't want me to have fun?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course I do, Chief. But still... do you need to talk about me as if I'm not even in the room?"

His eyes grew compassionate, for a split second, and then they sparked with humor again. "Oh come on. Claire loved it when I told her about the guy you made into a soprano last night."

I rolled my eyes, so damn embarrassed; I'm surprised I didn't burst into flames. "I feel really bad about that."

He put his hand on my arm and all thoughts left me. "He had it coming."

"Thanks."

He leaned back in his chair and bit into another brownie. "So when are you going clubbing again?"

"I don't need a chaperone."

He laughed outright at that. "You don't. But the guys do."

My eyes shut while I counted to ten, while I tried to hold in my temper. It didn't work. "Go to hell, Jackson LeDeux."

When all he did was laugh, I grabbed up a few glasses and went back inside, fuming. His warm, throaty chuckle followed me all the way inside. Damn but the man made me angry. Nice guy, my ass. He was a certifiable pain in the butt.

*** Jackson ***

As I left Claire DuPre's house, I couldn't help but laugh outright. I couldn't remember when I'd last had so much fun. Liam McCoy became a truly fun person. He was so easy to rile up, and I couldn't help myself. Of course I'd spent the previous night, once I'd gotten home from the club thinking about him. That chest of his... damn but I could still see it, glistening in the lamplight outside the club. I'd had several very nice thoughts and a few prurient dreams about that man. He'd been cute, with those eyes of his, before he cut his hair and got some new clothes. But now... he was almost lethally handsome.

Driving away from one of the nicest evenings I'd had since I moved here, I couldn't help but think about the sexy man I'd left behind. I doubted seriously if he'd ever had sex before. Rather than turn me off, it made me hotter for him. He was starting out, and he was going around it in the usual way. But my own experiences told me he was in for some hurt. The possessive, protective instincts that welled up inside me almost shocked me. He wasn't mine, but I knew I'd watch out for him. Now that I knew the man a bit more, I wanted him with a desire that was almost painful.

Liam McCoy might not know it yet, but I would get him into my bed. How long he'd stay there, I had no clue. Before too much longer, he'd be lying back and taking all of me. Somehow I knew that underneath all that shy bluster, was a powder keg ready to be lit. I had the fire for it, and like it or not, I would fan that flame.

When I got home, I called Sam and gave him an update on what I'd seen. Like me, he wasn't too concerned about the petty grass deals. Since it had only been two days, it was frustrating but not unexpected that I hadn't found out anything. Knowing how dedicated Liam was to his job, I knew he wouldn't be clubbing on a weeknight. At least I wouldn't have to worry about him if I headed back on a couple of nights during the week. But come Friday, I'm sure that tall, muscular, hunky man would distract me.

Wednesday afternoon, I made my way over to Claire's diner for lunch. What I really wanted was another of her brownies. When my sweet tooth acts up, there really is no other way to calm it than to appease it. Like a good boy, I ate lunch first. I had the grilled shrimp Caesar salad. I don't know where Claire got her seafood, because the shrimp was excellent: fresh, not overdone, perfect. It gave me an idea. When it calmed down in the diner, I went over to talk to her.

"Claire, darlin'. Where do you get your seafood?"

She looked at me with a half grin and her head cocked to the side. "I have a wholesaler from the Oregon Coast. Why?"

I felt kind of sheepish saying it, but I'd never backed away from anything. "Because most of the seafood here is frozen. It isn't like back home in Louisiana."

She chuckled. "Nothing like sticking your hand into the water and pulling up dinner huh?"

She got it. Someone from around here finally understood. "Yeah, exactly. I'm trying to lure a new deputy from out of town. If I were home, I'd have a big crawfish boil, but you can't get them here."

She drew her eyebrows into a frown. "So you want some shrimp for it?"

My grin was immediate. "That's exactly what I was gonna ask."

"Does it have to be shrimp?"

"No. But it'd be good if it were. Why?"

She grinned and handed me a sack with a couple of brownies in it. "Well, my guy can get me some fresh Dungeness crab. Wouldn't that be better?"

My mouth started to water, thinking about the spicy boil, filled with the sweet, succulent crab. "Darlin', that's the best idea I've ever heard of."

She grinned wide. "He's sending me a bunch of live ones for Saturday. How many do you need?"

Her generosity knew no bounds. "Well... how about we make it an even two dozen, provided you and Liam come over? It's Sunday afternoon, and I know you two have dinner together those days."

She grinned big. "I'd be delighted to, Jackson." She looked over my shoulder. "Here's Liam now, why don't we ask him?"

I turned to see him walk into the diner, looking hot and sweaty, dirt streaking his white tee. Man, that man was gorgeous, all tousled and mussed. It made me think that that's what he'd look like after some hard lovin'. Damn it all to hell in a little red wagon if he didn't cause me to get half hard. "So Liam... how'd you and Claire like to come over and help me woo a new deputy to town Sunday? We're gonna have an old fashioned crab boil."

Liam looked so disconcerted; I couldn't help laughing. "Um... sure. What can we bring?"

The blush that rose high on his cheeks made me grin even harder. "Just yourselves."

Claire piped in. "Liam, I think you know what you can bring."

Liam's grin was infectious. "Yeah, I know exactly what you're talking about. What time, Chief?"

That he called me Chief only slightly took the glow of the moment off. "Four. And it's Jackson."

He rolled his eyes, making me stare at his whole face, liking his thick eyebrows. "Okay, fine. Jackson."

"Great, it's a date."

His one word answer, "No," had me laughing all the way back to the station.

*** Liam ***

By the time Friday night came around, I was beat. I had mowed so many lawns, just so I could have my weekends free, that I was wiped. I had planned on staying in, perhaps taking a long soak in the hot tub, when there was a knock on my door. I had taken a shower, and figuring it was only Claire, answered the door wearing only my towel.

If I hadn't been so tired, and frankly irked that the man kept following me, showing up in odd places during my day, I'd have been flattered by the long perusal he gave me. But like I said, I was tired. Well not that tired. It only caused my stomach to flutter and my knees to feel weak when he looked in my eyes, fire lighting them. My voice came out as a croak.

"What can I do for you Chief?"

His irritation caused some of the fire to dim from his eyes, but not all of it. "Damn it, I told you to call me Jackson."

"Sorry... Jackson."

His grin was immediate and did cruel things to me. "Were you going clubbing tonight?"

I was so tired; the idea of dancing made my feet ache, not that I'd have told him that. "Yeah, soon. As soon as I get dressed."

He walked beside me, through my door. "Great, I'll wait here. We can drive in together."

Oh hell. Now what? Not knowing what to do, I went down the hall to get dressed. When I got back to the living room, I got a whistle. Between Claire and the Chief, I began to hate wearing these new clothes. "You look good, Liam. Just don't knee anyone else's balls, and all will be fine."

My blush got ten times worse. "Aren't you ever going to forget that?"

He stood there, fighting a laugh and rubbing his stubbly chin. "Nope."

Figures. Bastard. If he didn't look so gorgeous, I probably wouldn't have had this reaction. But damn, the man was fine. He stood at most an inch shorter than me. His black hair was wavy and almost always had a lock that drooped over his forehead. His shoulders were broad and he had a strong, but not huge musculature. His jeans hugged his ass and he wore a button down shirt that had the top three buttons undone, showing off a wealth of tan skin and dark body hair that made me drool. After staring for who knows how long, I shook myself and grabbed my jacket. "Are we going or what?"

The forty-minute drive was companionable. In his off hours, the Chief drove a jeep. It was several years old, well used, but lovingly maintained. We chatted a bit about what he looked for in the clubs, who he thought might be the dealer. I listened avidly, not that I thought I could help him, but as a note as to what to avoid. After we got to the club, Jackson grabbed a beer and headed up to the balcony. I headed out to the dance floor.

Even though I was bone tired, once the music started getting into me, I started to move. Song melded into song, rhythm merged into rhythm, and number flowed into number; whether with a specific partner or alone, I moved to the music. After a while, someone pulled my silk tee off my shoulders and I tucked it into my back pocket, never missing a beat. We'd been there for maybe two hours when the Chief came back down to the floor.

The music had gone slow when the Chief reached me. His eyes never left mine as he wrapped his arms around my hips, pulling me against him as we slowly rocked against each other. I had been sweaty and out of breath before, now my heart nearly burst out of my chest and I couldn't have caught my breath if I'd tried. There was a fire in his eyes and there was no way I could have avoided knowing how aroused he was. It felt like a cannon pressed against me, rubbing back and forth against my fly as my own body responded, dueling with him.

When the music stopped, he seemed to shake himself as I stood there, breathing hard, aroused beyond belief, shaking slightly. He grabbed my arm and steered us over to a table. He left me sitting while he went to the bar and got a couple of sodas for us to drink.

While he was away, I tried to calm myself. My pants were painfully distended. I went to push my hand through my hair, but it shook so badly, I immediately clamped both hands in my lap. I shut my eyes, trying to block out everything, remembering how good it felt to dance with Jackson. God! The man was beautiful. I stared at him as he walked back from the bar, watching as he ignored some come on. Many men looked at him, but what made me swallow was how he never took his eyes off me.

When Jackson sat down, placing my drink in front of me, it was with a timid feeling smile that I lifted the glass to my lips, swallowing the whole thing in one gulp. His laugh was low and deep and I could only feel it, because the music was too loud to hear. Just as he leaned forward, I heard a shout and we both turned our heads to see a man lay sprawled out on the floor. Another man turned a guy around and punched him square in the face. Oh no! Another brawl.

Jackson turned to look at me, raising his eyebrow. This time, it was definitely not my fault. He grabbed my arm and we ran out of the club, into the parking lot, into his jeep and were on the road in moments.

After we were on the highway, he turned his attention to me. "You're a curse, you know that?"

I couldn't stop the laugh. "I had nothing to do with that one."

He laughed too. "No, you didn't. But I'm beginning to wonder."

About halfway home, the breeze from the cracked open window made me cold. The sweat had dried on my chest and my nipples peaked out. I went to slip on my shirt, but Jackson's deep, rich voice halted me. "Don't on my account."

Just like that, all the calm I'd found fled. I stared across the car at him, watching how his hand rested on the gearshift. His fingers were long, strong and the top knuckles and the back of his hand were dusted in dark hair. A deep shudder ran through my body. So this was lust. The rest of the trip home passed by in a flash; before I knew it, Jackson pulled up in front of my house. I turned to wish him a good night, when his lips pressed against mine.