I brought cheap beer, cold and sharp. I tensed, the stretch unfamiliar, but he waited, moving gently until I relaxed. Gay sex He was twenty-one, already skilled at being the wrong kind of person. I asked if he was doing okay.He laughed. I still do.My Mom died with cancer when I was twelve. You’re my property now. Instead, he smiled like we were old friends. He cuffed my wrists gently and took my arm, leading me to the cruiser, his grip firm. He read it and then looked at me unconvinced, his eyes searching for the truth I couldn’t give. I knew who lived there—kids, single women. “Turn around.”I hesitated, then obeyed. Officer McDaniels and the others whispered sometimes when I passed, their trust in me fraying. It took work, but I’m staying that way. Holding your space. That’s just the nature of police work.I was twenty-four when I joined the force. As we sat, he rested his hand on my lower back, his fingers pushing under my belt a private claim that made my pulse quicken.“You always carry that much weight on your hips?” he asked, nodding at my gun belt.“It’s the job,” I said.“I bet you forget it’s there sometimes.”“I don’t.”He grinned.
