Texas Charm, chapter 15 (Patreon)

Chapter Fifteen

Zach stripped off his jacket as he walked in the door. The damn things made all the detectives look like used car salesmen, but he didn’t make the rules. “I am feeling good about the case.” Zach headed for the bedroom to secure his weapon.

Art followed. “I don’t know if Daniel Minton pulled the trigger, but it does feel like this is our first solid lead.”

After opening the safe, Zach secured his weapon and stepped to one side to let Art do the same. “I’m willing to bet a month’s salary that he was at the crime scene. Who else had a motive to hide the panties? And I was looking through the evidence again. The fancy leather trimmed buckle they found on the scene matches a pair of expensive shoes. Forensics says the edge of the leather is torn, suggesting a scuffle.”

“They did not say it suggested anything. Leah’s people only present facts,” Art said.

“True,” Zach admitted. “But the edge of the leather was torn and it came from an expensive shoe. From that I’m inferring the rest.” Zach could see the light at the end of the tunnel with this case. He was ready for a night of mindless television and maybe a little making out on the couch. It seemed like the last few weeks, ever since Darren and his team had shown up, that they had jumped from crisis to crisis. 

Usually a night of curling up on the couch with Art derailed the worst of Zach’s obsessive tendencies, but the Minton case had heaped fuel on fire. Zach had stopped sleeping well because the details of the case ran though his mind every night. They were both due for some down time. “In fact,” Zach said, “I vote that we add anything shamanic onto the list of verboten topics tonight.”

Art caught Darren around the waist and pulled him close. “That is an incredible idea. In fact, just for that, I’m going to make those horrible American quesadillas you love so much.”

Zach’s face lit up. Maybe flour tortillas and spicy chicken with Monterey Jack cheese wasn’t the traditional way of making a quesadilla, but as far as Zach was concerned, moldy corn had no place on his dinner plate, and he didn’t care how much Art called it a delicacy. 

“Dork,” Art said fondly.

“I’ll see what we have on television,” Zach said. They both quickly changed, and by the time Zach had found Spain and Iran playing soccer on one of the Spanish channels, Art was already rolling out the dough. Zach grabbed the lard and put it away before doing general clean up. Since he was horrible at cooking, he tried to do his part by cleaning. “How’s Silvia doing?” Zach asked. 

“She said that when she’s at work she wishes she were still home with the baby and when she’s at home she wishes she was at work,” Art said. “She’s always been a half-empty glass sort of person, so I think she’s as happy as she’s going to be.”

Zach thought Art was being a little unkind. Of all Art’s siblings, Zach liked Silvia best. She had a job with a law firm downtown, and sometimes Zach looked at her and saw the future he had barely avoided by dropping out of law school. Maybe Zach would take longer to pay off his college debt, but he wouldn’t be as stressed.

“Isidro sold a sculpture,” Art said.

“Very cool. Who bought it?”

“Some gallery in New Mexico. He’s hoping they’ll find an upscale buyer.” 

“We should have him over for a congratulatory dinner,” Zach said.

Art put a tortilla in the pan and headed over to the fridge. He came back with a block of cheese that he thumped down on the counter in front of Zach. “Only if you promise to never mention me cooking with Monterey Jack cheese.”

“You’re a food snob.” Zach grabbed the cheese grater and a plate.

“Hell yes. My mother would beat me to death with my own comal. I’m not even sure that’s cheese,” Art said as he poked a spatula in Zach’s direction. “Cheese generally has favor.”

Zach rolled his eyes. 

“Have you heard from your parents?” Art asked as he flipped the tortillas.

“My dad is convinced the country is falling apart because no one respects the traditional values of his generation. I’m pretty sure there were some veiled insults about either my homosexuality or our lack of marriage vows in there, but I was only half listening.” Zach shrugged. He had long ago stopped trying to please his parents because they were far too busy hating each other to spare him much time or thought.

Art frowned as he turned. “Is he upset that we’re together or that we’re living in sin without getting married?”

“Who the hell knows? My father just likes being unhappy, and Nelba Lammas raised you, so you know there are people who simply want to arrange the world to their liking.”

Art snorted, but he didn’t disagree. Maybe Art had avoided mentioning his father, but Nelba Lammas stories were the stuff of legends. Every single one of Art’s siblings had at least one example of a time Nelba had humiliated them.

Zach banged the grater to get the last of the cheese off.

“Why haven’t we gotten married?” Art asked.

Zach was so caught off guard that his hand slipped and he hit the plate of cheese. White shreds flew into the air, landing like confetti all over the floor and counters. 

“Whoa. If you’re that against it, no need to take it out on the food,” Art said with a quick laugh.

“Against marriage?” Zach’s voice broke, and in an instant, he saw the emotional shutters come down across Art’s expression. “No. No, I’m not.” Zach’s heart pounded against his ribs. “I just…. Are you serious?”

Art shrugged but there was a small ember of hope in his dark gaze. “I always figured we’d get married if you didn’t get sick of putting up with my crankiness.”

Zach carefully pushed the plate with the surviving cheese away from the edge of the counter. “After the Supreme Court ruled, I thought about it.” Zach hadn’t pushed because Art was not the sort to talk about his feelings. He felt them deeply, but he didn’t want to have long discussions. But now he had brought up marriage. “I would love to get married.”

“To me?” Art’s slow smile spoke of doubt as well as love.

“Moron.” Zach caught Art by his belt and pulled him close. After wrapping his hand around the back of Art’s neck, Zach kissed Art. When Art parted his lips, Zach tilted his head to the side and deepened their kiss. Only when he was in danger of coming in his pants did Zach pull back. “For the record, that was the worst proposal ever, but yes. I would definitely want to marry you.”

“I’ll make it up by sweeping up the cheese you spilled,” Art said. “Later,” he added after a beat. He pushed his pan back—the stove was already off. And then Art committed the ultimate sin; he left the kitchen messy while pulling Zach toward the bedroom.

Art chewed on his lower lip, signaling his nerves, and Zach found it the most charming habit ever. Maybe others fell for Art’s whole illusion—the facade he created to convince everyone he was a crusty old bastard. But Zach saw the real man with all his passions and fears and hopes. Zach’s obsessions were so often front and center. Everyone at the station gave him a hard time about letting go when he had a tough case. But Art’s neurotic nature was private. Secret. Hidden in small gestures, like chewing on his lip.

They both stripped their clothing, tossing it aside so they created a trail out of the kitchen, down the short hall and into their bedroom. They scrambled into the bed, shoving pillows aside as their limbs tangled, bodies pressing together. Zack kissed Art’s jaw; the prickly whiskers from his five o’clock shadow rasping against Zach’s lip and making shivers go up his spine.

Art arched his back and grabbed Zach’s hair. He pulled their mouths together, and this kiss was hungry and demanding and passionate and bruising. “I love you,” Art whispered, the Spanish words somehow more weighty than when Art spoke in the sharper syllables of English.

“God, yes,” Zach said. “I love you, too.” Zach tried to kiss Art, but Art was sliding down Zach’s body, kissing a path down Zach’s chest, taking a detour to suck on a nibble before he continued south. Zach tried to sit up, to pull Art back up so they could explore each other, but Art had his weight on Zach’s hips, pinning him in place as Art zeroed in on Zach’s belly button.

He used his tongue to explore the shape and trace circles. Zach pressed his head to the pillow and moaned as his dick got harder. Art brushed his cheek across Zach’s erection, and those little whiskers teased Zach’s hard flesh. A massive tremor shook Zach, and a wave of heat spread across his body. Then Art took Zach’s cock in his mouth, sucking so his cheeks hollowed.  Zach grabbed the bedsheets and cursed as Art teased the sensitive skin behind Zach’s balls.

“Get up here,” Zach gasped out.

Art’s smile turned devilish as he slithered up Zach’s body, pressing their erections together before kissing Zach breathless. Art’s kissing skills were unmatched. He kissed with his whole being, humming softly while his body undulated slightly and his hands stroked Zach’s neck. Eventually Art whispered into Zach’s ear, “I am going to marry you.” His warm breath stirred Zach’s small hairs.

“And I’m going to marry you back.” Zach turned his attention to driving Art wild. He twisted around enough to suck on the skin just behind Art’s ear. He tasted desire in the salt sweat and musk on Art’s skin.

Art groaned before sliding his hand down to cup Zach’s balls, which distracted Zach from his own exploration. “If you’re going to play dirty,” Art said, a little warning in his voice. Before Zach’s brain processed he words, Art used his leg to pull Zach’s thighs apart and then he brushed his fingers over Zach’s hole. The faint, teasing touch scrambled Zach’s thoughts so his next words came out garbled.

“Top or bottom?” Art asked.

Asking right after that whisper of skin against skin was definitely playing dirty. “Bottom,” Zach practically begged. Art grabbed for their lube.

“I want this so damn slow, but I think I might explode.”

“If you don’t, I fucking will. Save slow for round two, and I’ll take top,” Zach promised. Right now he’d offer up his spare kidney if he could just come. 

Art smiled. “Sounds good.” The coordinated bastard managed to pepper kisses across Zach’s collarbone while slipping a lubed finger into Zach. Zach would have resented the man’s supernatural lack of fumbling in bed except it was hard for him to resent someone when it meant he got regular doses of mind-blowing sex. To encourage Art, Zach spread his legs, digging his heels into the mattress to give him more room to work.

Then they started a mutual dance of squirming to arrange limbs. Art grabbed Zach’s hips and pulled him down the bed, and Zach wrapped his legs around Art’s waist and holding him tight so Art had to pause. “Give me a second,” Zach said as he fought back his orgasm. 

“God I want you.” Art’s voice was gravel, and every word made Zach shiver.

Zach clenched his teeth and tried to calm himself. “That’s not helping. I’m trying to not come.”

“Do whatever feels good. Do you want to come now?” Art asked. He ran a finger over Zach’s hard erection, and Zach’s vision whited out.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“You fucking asshole. Fuck me now before I fucking kill you for not fucking me,” Zach cursed.

Art laughed. “Oh, I can do that.” Art pulled Zach up for a bruising kiss and then he shoved a pillow under Zach’s hips and pushed inside with one strong thrust. Zach’s muscles stretched, and that familiar burn warmed him as Art pounded him, hitting Zach’s prostate over and over.

Zach arched his back and one leg stiffened as he started sliding toward orgasm. Skin slapped against skin. Art grabbed Zach’s sweat-slick thighs, holding on even as he shoved Zach up toward the headboard with every impact. They were both grunting with in time, and Zach bit his lip to try and ride the sharp edge of orgasm longer. 

Art’s movements turned spastic as he started to come. When Art wrapped his hand around Zach’s hard and overheated cock, Zach screamed and came with a low, keening cry. The world shifted and the air felt so heavy that Zach could feel it sliding across his skin. Zach floated on the post-orgasm fog as Art collapsed next to him on the bed. The sound of their panting filled the air, and Zach smiled as he thought about the fact that his fiancé had just fucked him, and as soon as Zach recovered and they cleaned up the kitchen and had dinner, he was totally returning the favor.  He was going to have a long and pornographic evening with his fiancé. His affianced. His soon-to-be-husband.

Zach smiled stupidly at the ceiling.

“I love you,” Art said softly. Then he caught Zach by his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. Maybe cleaning the kitchen could wait. Zach was enjoying wallowing in a little engagement bliss, even if it meant missing out on American-style quesadilla.

Chapter 1: https://www.patreon.com/posts/texas-charm-6-19034447 

Chapter 2: https://www.patreon.com/posts/texas-charm-2-19050307 

Chapter 3: https://www.patreon.com/posts/texas-charm-3-19066252 

Chapter 4: https://www.patreon.com/posts/texas-charm-4-19087127 

Chapter 5: https://www.patreon.com/posts/texas-charm-5-19132901 

Chapter 6: https://www.patreon.com/posts/texas-charm-six-19159661 

Chapter 7: https://www.patreon.com/posts/texas-charm-7-19179823 

Chapter 8: https://www.patreon.com/posts/texas-charm-8-19190078 

Chapter 9: https://www.patreon.com/posts/texas-charm-9-19201497 

Chapter 10: https://www.patreon.com/posts/texas-charm-10-19220764 

Chapter 11, 12: https://www.patreon.com/posts/texas-charm-11-19228890 

Chapter 13, 14: https://www.patreon.com/posts/texas-charm-13-19244456 

Chapter 15: https://www.patreon.com/posts/texas-charm-15-19264338 

Chapter 16, 17: https://www.patreon.com/posts/texas-charm-16-19276375 

Chapter 18, 19: https://www.patreon.com/posts/texas-charm-18-19290091 

Chapter 20: https://www.patreon.com/posts/texas-charm-20-19301548