A.R. Moler

Chicago PD Detective Michael Branham reluctantly calls in the federal marshals when he gets wind of a dangerous fugitive. Ken “Sully” Sullivan flies in as the Agent-in-Charge. After a futile car chase during a blizzard and a resulting car accident, the two men take shelter in an unused stable. Wounded and cold, Sully and Michael lower their defenses and admit their attraction to each other. Sully's comfortable with his bisexuality, whereas Michael has some self-admitted attraction to men but has never done anything about it. Months later, Michael has a family funeral in the DC area and arranges to meet Sully again. The heat still smolders between them. Then disaster hits Michael -- the kind only another cop can understand. Sully rearranges his life to support Michael, who is still uncertain about their new relationship. Can two men with high stress jobs from different cities find a way to meet each other in the middle?

Trust in the Fast Lane

“Asshole,” he said and tickled me, pinning me with his body weight.


We flailed around as I made a half-hearted escape attempt. He grabbed my wrists and pulled them over my head. I still had my legs around him, but now they were at the level of his thighs. I lifted my head and licked the side of his neck. “Blow me.”


“You damn well won’t.” He tickled me again. We ended up rolling off the sofa, and hit the floor. “Ow,” he groaned.


We both giggled like idiots as I crawled off him, and sat up. “Maybe we ought to finish having dinner.”


Michael pushed me flat on the floor and pinned me. “I want you.” The low growl of his voice was a serious turn on.


Hell. Finishing dinner could damn well wait. “Lube’s in the bedroom.”


Chapter 28