Bad Influence by K.A. Mitchell
“Yeah.”
The raw feeling in the smoky voice made Beach tighten his muscles around the cock fucking into him, dragging out another stuttered “Good” before he felt the man come, the lock and snap of muscles, the convulsive jerk of hips. Beach rode it out with him, and when the man finally pulled out, Beach swallowed back the burn of disappointment. He wiped his forehead on his forearm, still holding on to the ledge to relieve the pressure on his leg.
The condom hit the water in the bowl, and the roar of the flush echoed around the stall, but Beach thought he heard “That was sweet” before the man brushed a kiss against his cheek and left.
It took a few minutes before Beach was ready for the world. His leg throbbed, a spiking pain underneath like a fresh break. His next round of sex would be horizontal, definitely.
By the time Beach decided he didn’t look or walk quite so rode-hard-and-put-up-wet, the man with the tattoos, goatee, and velvet-sin voice wasn’t lingering around the pool table or anywhere in the barroom. Which may have saved Beach the humiliation of forcing his number on the man and begging him to schedule a repeat.
After retrieving his cane, Beach made his way out to his Spider, dropping the top as the engine purred and rumbled. He’d always imagined the sound like a tiger getting a belly scratch. Now it reminded him of the gravelly notes in the voice that had whispered in his ear in the bathroom. The one that had told him no and made Beach listen. He was shaking off his stupidity and putting the car in gear when his phone went off.
He let himself enjoy a few more moments of a fantasy where the man had recognized Beach somehow, found his number, and was calling to set up something blissfully horizontal and twice as hot. But it was only a computer-generated voice. Female, impersonal. But to Beach it always held a bit of a derisive sneer as it told him to report to the probation office for testing tomorrow. Thank God sex was the drug that didn’t leave any traces.
TAI’S COMPUTER had barely finished moaning and grinding to life that morning when Sutton dumped a bunch of files on his desk.
“Here’s your latest share from the Bob fallout.”
Tai scanned the pile. “Eight?” And two of them were thicker than average. “Overtime authorization come with them?”
His boss shook his head. “Sometimes you gotta take one for the team.”
“Or eight.” Tai hauled the files closer. Everybody had more shit now while Bob was suspended and Leslie was out on medical leave. His mom was fond of saying the only reward for a job well done was another job, but Tai hadn’t ever noticed her slacking off, house or hospital.
Top file was some sixteen-year-old busted for shoplifting. When Tai flipped through and got a look at the parents’ occupations, he was surprised they hadn’t been able to make it all go away. Then he got a look at the priors. Some people loved wasting second chances, and third, and fourth. But that wasn’t something he had to get to right away.
The next one was a mess. Bob must have been shoving it to the back while he spent his time drinking and driving around underage girls. Tai was still sorting through the file when switchboard called to tell him David Beauchamp was reporting in. The name meant nothing, which meant he was one of Bob’s. Tai yanked out the file and ran through it.
David Beauchamp at thirty-four was where that sixteen-year-old was headed. Charges dismissed, violations and misdemeanors all reduced by the intervention of more money than everyone in this office would make in a lifetime. Beauchamp’s sole occupation was to keep the family lawyer in business. Tai moved through to the present. Christ, Beauchamp had been the one to take the header off the bridge back in March, then get busted in May for criminal trespass out on Fort Carroll. The office got one or two of those cases every damned year. Most of them urban adventurers looking for online fame with videos of the dangerously crumbling fort. Tai wished the island would sink the fuck back into the bay. Failing that, become Anne Arundel county’s problem. They had enough shit to deal with here.
Beauchamp had been seen as a flight risk and had substance-abuse issues, so they’d slapped a monitor on him to track his whereabouts and to read alcohol intake. Tai checked the monitoring system on the computer. No ethanol alarm, but Beauchamp had been flagged for location last night.
All the chances in the world, and all the advantages, and Beauchamp still had to act like an asshole. Maybe Tai would just throw him back at the judge for violating probation terms. Except given the way things worked for a guy like Beauchamp, he’d be back in Tai’s office the next day with a shit-eating grin on his face.
As the man made his way in front of Tai’s desk, Tai glanced around the computer screen enough to catch a glimpse of a cane. The grip on it, the light drag in his step, said it wasn’t only decoration, but it could be a sympathy game.
A vocal gasp made Tai think the limp and cane were part of the same pity ploy.
“Sit down.” Tai spat out before he flipped through the file again, looking for the medical reports. Coma, fracture of the tibia—the jump off the bridge? No, the trespass on Fort Carroll. So Beauchamp wasn’t just a party boy, he was a klutzy one. Tai went back to the monitor.
“Want to tell me your whereabouts last night?”
“I would think you already know the answer to that, Officer Fonoti.” Beauchamp’s voice was amused. These cases made Tai sick. Give him a street punk any day over someone who’d had everything handed to him and threw it away. “Since our whereabouts happened to coincide so forcefully.”
Tai snapped a look at the man in the chair. No. No fucking way. Admittedly he hadn’t been paying much attention to the guy’s looks after ascertaining the basics—fuckable and asking for it. It had been a good time, the guy playing along like he knew the ropes. He’d bet it wouldn’t have taken much to get the guy to drop to his knees and kiss Tai’s boots. But last night there hadn’t been a cane. Tai hadn’t been interested in a lot of details beyond getting his dick up a nice—God, he’d been tight—ass. Tai tugged on his pant leg to free up space. He couldn’t get his brain to connect the smug bastard in front of him with the eager, obedient screw he’d had last night. The way he’d groaned and shook and how hard he clenched down. Tai had to tug on his pant leg again.
Despite all the evidence, Tai took another look at the program on the monitor. Beauchamp, David A. had been at 130 West Eager Street from 8:52 until 10:38. Tai had gotten there at seven thirty.
“I was informed my probation officer would be closely monitoring my activities, but I didn’t realize how closely,” Beauchamp said with a slow blink, a smile curving over an unshaved chin.
Tai had been threatened by gang leaders, self-labeled drug lords, and your basic foaming-at-the-mouth douchebags with anger issues. He’d listened to sob stories about hungry children, cheating girlfriends, and backstabbing friends. If any of that could screw with his judgment, he wouldn’t have been able to do his job. And he was good at his job. He knew the rules, knew about the boundaries with clients. Hell, it didn’t take the Corrections and Probations Officer’s Manual to figure out the rule on fucking probies. Just one word. Don’t.
“Mr. Beauchamp—”
“Call me Beach. Everyone does.”
Tai looked away from where white teeth bit down on a pink tongue in a cheeky smile. “Mr. Beauchamp—”
“Beechem. That’s how you say it. Beech. Em.”
The heat in his gut drove Tai to his feet. He glanced down at his hands on the desk, knowing he had slapped them there, but only from the sting in his palms, the echo of the sound. He stared a little longer, taking a deep breath for control, battling the instinctive desire to put his hand on Beauchamp’s neck and remind him where the power really rested and do it in a way that had nothing to do with supervising a client. Of course, if Tai allowed himself such an extreme reaction over the slightest challenge, Beauchamp was the one in charge. He peered down. The amiable expression on Beach’s—Beauchamp’s—face didn’t change at all. But his gaze made a leisurely journey from Tai’s thighs to his fac
“According to the conditions of your pretrial probation, you are to remain out of bars.”
“But I didn’t have a drink of anything…fun.” Beauchamp’s eyes focused on Tai’s crotch. “Didn’t my lovely ankle jewelry tell you that?”
Tai glanced over at the monitor, though he already knew the answer.
“Where’s Bob? Not that it isn’t charming to run into you again, albeit under these circumstances, but I thought I was working with Bob.”
Bob? “Officer Meade is not working with this department right now.”
“Now that is a shame. We were getting along so well.”
Tai had been about to resume his seat, but the phrasing made him wonder if Beauchamp hadn’t been getting more from Bob than supervision.
“Drug test. Let’s go.” Tai grabbed a sample kit from the cabinet and started for the door. Having to piss under supervision like a toddler was humiliating enough to take the starch out of most of the assholes Tai dealt with. But as Beauchamp pushed open the men’s room door, Tai realized how epically this was going to backfire. He busied himself in tugging on his gloves, avoiding the memory of his last trip to the men’s room with Beauchamp.
Beauchamp stepped up to a urinal and grinned at Tai. “Hold it for me?”
“Excuse me?” Tai stepped away from where he was blocking the door.
“My cane.” Beauchamp held it out. His tongue caught in his teeth for an instant before he added, “Well, it’s either my cane, the cup, or my cock, but I was trying to keep things professional.”
Tai snatched the cane and handed over the sample cup. Beauchamp faced him as he unzipped. Tai tried to glance away, but the action made him appear more pathetic.
Beach shrugged. “Not like you haven’t seen it.”
“Get on with it.”
It was only a small hitch in Beauchamp’s breath, but in the tiled room it echoed. And the echo reverberated right to Tai’s balls. Tucking the cane under an arm, he kept an eye on the mirror set up to make sure the probie couldn’t sub out from a tube secreted somewhere and waited.
When a minute passed, Tai leaned back against the doorframe. “Shy bladder?”
“Not as a rule.” The response was sharp. “Uh.” There were a few variations on that sound before Beauchamp said, “Tell me what happened to Bob.”
“It’s none of your business.” Tai pushed away from the wall and turned on one of the faucets. “Some inspiration.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Beauchamp’s voice was polished, smooth as silk, with a hint of the Carolinas in it and an ever-stronger promise of a laugh waiting to happen.
“Relax and concentrate.”
“Not helping.”
Tai made a living reading truth, fear, or desperation in people’s voices, their faces, their body language. Right now Beauchamp was projecting all three. And that came overlaid with the awareness Tai should never have of a client. To know he liked it hard and dirty with a commanding voice in his ear.
The sooner this was over with, the sooner Tai could be in Sutton’s office, passing Beauchamp on to another PO. That was what he told himself, but it was only half the truth as he took a step to put himself close enough to growl into Beauchamp’s ear, “Do it. Now.”
There was the sexy hitch in his breath again, and then Beauchamp obediently filled the cup, lifting it away as he splashed the rest into the urinal. He held up the cup, cheeks pink, looking at Tai’s shoes. “Uh.”
With a heavy sigh, Tai handed him the cap and a paper towel. “Wipe it off.”
“Right. Sorry.”
When the cap was twisted on and the outside was as clean as it was going to get, Tai took it, slapped on a label, and they both signed the seal on it before he passed back the cane. “Your curfew is eleven, and you’re due for a home visit. Better be there. And stay out of bars.”
“That’s it?” Beauchamp sounded disappointed.
“That’s it.”
With a raised-brow leer, Beauchamp used the cane to swagger out as Tai held the door. “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to that home visit, Officer.”
More from K.A. Mitchell
Bad in Baltimore: Book One
Some things are sweeter than revenge.
“I need a boyfriend.”
Hearing those words from his very straight, very ex-best friend doesn’t put Nate in a helpful mood. Not only did Kellan Brooks’s father destroy Nate’s family in his quest for power, but Kellan broke Nate’s heart back in high school. Nate thought he could trust his best friend with the revelation that he might be gay, only to find out he was horribly wrong and become the laughingstock of the whole school. Kellan must be truly desperate if he’s turning to Nate now.
Kellan’s through letting his father run his life, and he wants to make the man pay for cutting him off. What better way to stick it to the bigot than to come out as gay himself—especially with the son of the very man his father crushed on his quest for money and power. Kellan can’t blame Nate for wanting nothing to do with him, though. Kellan will have to convince him to play along, but it’s even harder to convince himself that the heat between them is only an act….
Bad in Baltimore: Book Two
Causing trouble has never been more fun.
Eli Wright doesn’t follow anyone’s rules. When he was seventeen, his parents threw him out of the house for being gay. He’s been making his own way for the past five years and he’s not about to change himself for anyone’s expectations. For now, romance can wait. There are plenty of hot guys to keep him entertained until he finds someone special.
Quinn Maloney kept the peace and his closeted boyfriend’s secrets for ten years. One morning he got a hell of a wake-up along with his coffee. Not only did the boyfriend cheat on him, but he’s marrying the girl he knocked up. Inviting Quinn to the baby’s baptism is the last straw. Quinn’s had enough of gritting his teeth to play nice. His former boyfriend is in for a rude awakening, because Quinn’s not going to sit quietly on the sidelines. In fact, he has the perfect scheme, and he just needs to convince the much younger, eyeliner-wearing guy who winks at him in a bar to help him out.
Eli’s deception is a little too good, and soon he has everyone believing they’re madly in love. In fact, he’s almost got Quinn believing it himself….
Bad in Baltimore: Book Three
Saving lives never used to be this complicated.
Gavin Montgomery does what’s expected of him by his wealthy and powerful family—look good in a tuxedo and don’t make waves. When a friend takes a leap off a bridge, Gavin tries to save him, only to fall in with him. At least at the bottom of the river he won’t feel like such a disappointment to his family. But he’s pulled from the water by a man with an iron grip, a sexy mouth, and a chip on his shoulder the size of the national deficit.
Jamie Donnigan likes his life the way it is—though he could have done without losing his father and giving up smoking. But at least he’s managed to avoid his own ball and chain as he’s watched all his friends pair off. When Montgomery fame turns a simple rescue into a media circus, Jamie decides if he’s being punished for his good deed, he might as well treat himself to a hot and sweaty good time. It’s not like the elegant and charming Gavin is going to lure Jamie away from his bachelor lifestyle. Nobody’s that charming. Not even a Montgomery….
Ready or Knot: Book One
Kieran Delaney-Schwartz—adoptee, underachiever, and self-professed-slacker IT guy—lives his under-the-radar life by the motto: Don’t try, don’t fail. His adopted siblings are all overachievers thanks to his driven, liberal parents, but Kieran has elected to avoid disappointing anyone by not getting their hopes up. He’s coasting through his early twenties when he’s hit head-on by Theo. The successful decade-older Broadway producer sweeps him off his feet for a whirlwind thirteen months that are pretty sweet, until it all comes screeching to a halt on Valentine’s Day, with an unexpected proposal via an NYC Times Square flash mob.<
Now everyone wants in on the wedding, except the grooms….
Sequel to Put a Ring on It
Ready or Knot: Book Two
Former child star and deeply closeted adult actor Jax Conlon needs a boost to his flagging career. He promised his mom, just before she died. He hopes he’s found it in a guest spot with the latest directorial prodigy, but his research for the role gets derailed by an encounter with a handsome stranger with more… hands-on experience.
Oz Parsons is a devoted dad to two amazing little girls. Maybe a little too devoted—he hasn’t had anything resembling a personal life since his ex left, leaving Oz and the girls with broken hearts and abandonment issues. So a hookup with a hot guy is just what he needs to let off some pent-up steam without any complications. There’s something about Jax, though, that’s got him finding reasons to draw things out.
With their goals and families pulling them in two different directions, Oz and Jax have to figure if white-hot chemistry and desire that won’t quit is enough to roll the dice and risk now on forever.
Readers love the Bad in Baltimore series by K.A. Mitchell
Bad Company
“…an entertaining, emotional, sometimes funny, oftentimes sensual story with two likable MCs…”
—Love Bytes
“Definitely, a must read! I was so enthralled with the characters Kellan and Nate! They were both charming, funny and oh so stubborn.”
—Diverse Reader
“This is a great read that I’m adding to my favorites. Thank you, K.A. for bringing these men to light.”