Chapter Twenty-Two
Three months later
WES
“Put that down!”
I glanced at the doorway to our new kitchen as I lifted an empty box which had been holding the newspaper wrapped baking pans I’d already emptied onto the kitchen nook’s small table.
My beloved Patsy stood there looking incensed.
I grinned at him and tipped the box to show him there was nothing in it.
“This is the box you brought in here five minutes ago. I just peeled the tape off and took out the dishes.” I pointed to the stack of cookware sitting on the table.
“When the doctor said I wasn’t to lift anything heavy, I don’t think he was talking about a bundt pan. ”
“Oh.” He visibly deflated, all the sass gone as he strode into the room.
I chucked the empty cardboard onto the ground before opening my arms for him.
He walked right into them and melted against my body, lifting his face to mine for a kiss.
I grinned instead. “Mother hen.” I cut off further protest with a kiss, swooping down to cover his gorgeous mouth with mine.
Kissing Patsy had become a passion of mine for many reasons.
Once I’d gotten out of the hospital two weeks after I’d nearly died on the operating table, Patsy had taken me home to recuperate where kissing was all we could do.
We hadn’t been able to do much more than kissing after major surgery to repair the damage done by infamous serial killer, Eustace Babbish, when he’d decided to stab me.
After he’d been killed by Rex Monroe’s sniper round, the FBI’s case had come to a close.
No one knew his endgame when he’d come back to our tent that night, though, we could only speculate he’d hoped to grab his trophies and found me there instead.
He’d surprised me so profoundly that I hadn’t had time to use the knife Patsy had left with me.
Instead, he’d stabbed me, probably hoping to disable me long enough to get away.
All in all, the murderous killing spree had come to an end but only after the death of six defenseless prostitutes and four innocent men in the homeless encampment.
I’d nearly ended up as his eleventh victim that night.
My recovery had been slow, aided by pain medication, Patsy’s frequent mother-henning, and a visit from Detectives Ryan and Williams who’d turned up ten days into my hospitalization with a file folder in their hands and massive grins on their faces. I could still remember our conversation that day.
“Why are you smiling like that, guys?” I asked as I grabbed the hospital bed’s remote control and began raising the head of the bed.
Patsy put down his phone and stood from his usual perch beside my bed, a comfortable chair that folded out into a bed for his frequent overnight visits in my hospital room.
“Someone’s lookin’ too bloody pleased with themselves,” Patsy said, walking over to the two cops and shaking their hands.
“We’ve got excellent news for you both,” Cassidy said, walking over to shake my hand. “How’re you feeling, Wes?”
I held my stomach. “Never better, Cassidy. Hey, Mike.” I shook the older cop’s hand as well. “What’s happening?”
They’d exchanged amused glances before looking back at me. “You remember when we told you not to worry about those three hoodlums who’d been after you?”
I nodded. “Yeah, because you said they were affiliated with the mafia and they’d most likely be dealt with by their bosses if they brought extra FBI scrutiny down on their heads.”
They nodded before exchanging another glance. “Go ahead, Mike. You tell them.”
“It’s safe to say you don’t need a protective detail sitting outside your door anymore, Wes.
These three were just scooped out of L.A.
harbor by the police boat.” Mike set down the folder and flipped it open on my hospital table.
I reached out and rolled it closer so Patsy and I could see.
Three corpses were lined up on the dock, looking wet, blue, and very very dead.
“Ugh,” I said, looking away.
“Ya were right, guys. The mob took care of their own,” Patsy said.
I knew he was still looking at the photos which I had no desire to.
“Sorry, Wes, we just need you to ID these fellas, provided you recognize them. Take one quick look and we’ll be done,” Cassidy said.
I sighed and glanced down at them, recognizing the two men who’d assaulted Father Gilmartin and their big friend who’d come into Raj and Rami’s store the afternoon the three had chased me up onto that roof. I reached out and shut the folder before looking at the detectives. “Yeah, that’s them.”
“Good, thank you,” Cassidy said.
“I guess yer idea to have the FBI put pressure on the mob nudged the bosses in the right direction, eh, Cassidy?” Patsy asked.
“You did this?” I asked, frowning at my love.
He grinned back. “I didn’t. I left that to the organized crime unit.”
I smiled. “Same thing, just two different departments at the FBI. Don’t split hairs, Irishman.”
He leaned over and kissed me. As he pulled back, he reached up to run a hand over my sparse hair. “Not sure if there’s enough hair here to split, luv.”
I’d laughed and held my stomach as Cassidy and Mike joined in.
The fond memory faded as quickly as it’d come and I reluctantly broke our kiss because I was finally forced to come up for air. “I could use a break from lifting bundt pans. Why don’t we take this to our brand-new bedroom.”
Patsy grinned at me as he stepped back and took my hand. “Ya have some cracker ideas.” He pulled me out of the kitchen and through our new living room which he’d quite charmingly called a lounge, heading toward our big master bedroom.
While I’d recuperated at his small apartment in Hollywood, Patsy had made good on his promise to buy a house.
He’d showered my bed with brochures and floor plans and we’d eventually settled on a newly-built home in a small suburb of L.A.
called Moorpark. Though moving there meant a longer commute for Patsy and me, once we’d finally gotten the keys and walked into our gorgeous new living space which no one had ever owned before, we’d felt immediately at home.
One of two master bedrooms was located on the first floor while the other was on the second floor along with two additional bedrooms neither of us knew what to do with.
Outside, across the patio and garden, was what the builder had called a mother-in-law cottage.
Basically, it was eight hundred square feet of living space including a kitchenette, two bathrooms, and two bedrooms, perfect—Patsy said—for his mom, dad, and a few siblings who’d promised to come over to stay with us after we were all settled in.
We’d fallen in love with the house and all its amenities the moment we’d seen it.
“Imagine this place when my mam gets her hands on it,” Patsy said, staring out into the back garden which was currently a large, empty patch of dirt surrounded by four walls. “She’s a keen gardener. I’ll bet we’ll have tons of roses in a couple of years.”
“I want a lot of trellises with grapevines and a vegetable patch,” I said with a grin as I spun him into my arms.
“Easy.” He gingerly rested against my body as I pulled him up against my erection.
“Don’t start. Doctor Wilson said I’d be capable of sex as soon as my stitches healed. I just have to take it easy.”
“And we’ve had sex since ya came home from the hospital.” He smiled, lifting his face for another kiss. I indulged him, taking his lips and kissing him slowly and thoroughly. When I finally broke the kiss, we were both panting.
“Frequent hand jobs don’t count. I need to get inside you again, Patsy.” I looked down at the unmade bed which Napoleon and Rex had wrangled into our bedroom just an hour ago. “We should put linen on the bed. I don’t want to get our new mattress dirty.”
He chortled, making me look up at his dancing eyes. “I don’t count come as dirt, Wes, and I’d be willin’ to bet, no one else will either.”
I frowned, tugging him down onto the soft memory foam mattress I’d insisted we buy before moving. “No one else is going to see it, but I will know it’s there.”
“I’ll get a towel.” He giggled, settling onto the bed at my side, propping his head as he traced slowly down my chest with his free hand. He toyed with the strings of my sweat shorts, loosening them so that he could slide his hand inside to circle my straining erection.
“Ya do want me.”
I nodded. “I’ve been telling you, Patsy.” He squeezed my cock and began to slowly stroke up and down, cutting off any further conversation as he proceeded to drive me crazy. “You need to help me off with these shorts if you plan on riding my cock, babe.”
He smiled, looking slightly innocent as he lifted his eyes and looked at the ceiling.
When our gazes connected as he glanced back down, his eyes were filled with lust. “I have a better idea.” He reached for my waistband and drew my shorts down, then sat up on his knees to pull them off, throwing them on the floor.
He lifted the hem of my sleeveless tee and pulled it off my head, sending it flying to join the shorts. “Wait right here.”
I watched as Patsy climbed off the bed and went into our en suite bathroom, coming back thirty seconds later, stripped naked, hard cock bouncing as he walked, holding a tube of lube and a towel.
He wiggled it in the air as he climbed back on the bed.
He rolled to me, quickly slicking my throbbing cock and then rolling away from me to his side as he looked over his shoulder.
“Fuck me like this. It’ll be easier for ya. ”