Page 29 of Bazooka

Police Business

Luz

“Which is just a minor setback, right?” I asked my friends, eagerly awaiting their confirmation of my conclusion.

Alain blinked. “I don’t understand the question.”

“Baz returned to the sofa during the night,” I replied. “But it’s no biggie, right?”

Wagner looked up from his phone. “Luz, can you please start from the beginning?”

We were sitting in the room , drinking coffee and eating a blueberry pie that Dakotah had baked. It made every sense to invite them here since Bazooka and I were now boyfriends, so… su casa mi casa or whatever.

Dotty gave me a reassuring smile as I told the story from the beginning. I started with the corpse in John Smith’s boudoir, my chat with Chief Bibb, and the time Bazooka and I’d spent in the park. I also told them how I met my assailants again—this time under different circumstances.

“Luz, that’s awful,” Dotty said, covering my hand with his. “I can’t believe you had to face those bastards again.”

“I’m glad it happened, Dot. It gave me closure, I guess. I wanted them to know they are going to suffer for what they did to me.”

“Still, you’ve got some balls on you,” Alain mused, gazing into the distance. “I wish I were that brave.”

Alain’s biggest wish was to become a bodyguard one day. Sadly, he had the constitution for it, but not the stomach.

Wagner was the only one who wasn’t drinking coffee, because he said the cup looked dirty. I didn’t bother with giving him another one, simply because it wasn’t true. And he was smirking at me. I didn’t like that.

“So, how is it going with you and…”

“My boyfriend?” I finished instead of him.

Alain gasped. “You two are boyfriends now?”

I shrugged, looking at my cuticles. “I mean, what else would you call it? We’re living together. Sleeping in the same bed. And we did stuff… sexual stuff.”

Dakotah choked on his coffee. “Nooo. What stuff?”

I could feel myself blushing, which was a rare occurrence since I generally had no shame.

“A gentleman never tells,” I stated. “But let’s just say that now I know what his cum tastes like.”

A collective groan told me I was oversharing.

“So, he’s not straight anymore?” Alain asked me the silliest question in the world.

“Pfft. He was never straight,” I explained. “He only thought he was straight. But that was before he met me.”

Wagner looked at me in a way that made me feel sorry for myself.

“Does he know that, Luz? That he’s not straight anymore, and that you two are boyfriends?”

“Well, if he doesn’t, then he’s an idiot,” I said, frowning. “And I wish he would stop working so hard. This Mendoza case is bothering him… why does that name sound so familiar?”

“Because I mentioned it to you,” Dakotah said, cutting himself another slice of pie. “Don’t you remember? Gio Mendoza hired me to bake him a cake for his wedding. Then he cancelled the wedding at the last minute but paid me anyway. Double.”

Now it was my turn to gasp. “You’re baking cakes for gun smugglers now?”

Dakotah chuckled. “Gio Mendoza is not a gun smuggler. He’s a businessman.”

“And who told you that?”

“Himself.”

“Bazooka is after Rio Mendoza,” I mused. “Your guy is called Gio Mendoza. They must be brothers. Sorry, but you’re probably working for a criminal, Dotty.”

“I baked him a cake. Once.”

Right. It was another fruitless discussion in the making, so I gave up.

After my friends left, I texted Baz. He left for work while I was still sleeping, but he left a note for me on the fridge.

Went to work.

It was sooo romantic.

Me: Hey, handsome.

Me: I loved your note .

Me: What would you like for lunch?

Bazooka (my boyfriend): I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. We’re having a shitshow here, and it’s not ending soon.

Me: I’m sorry. I’ll give you a massage when you get back.

Bazooka (my boyfriend): I’ll hold you to it. Incidentally, we don’t have to have the talk when I get back, do we?

Me: Whatever you have to say to me, you can just show me instead. Actions speak louder than words.

I added a winking face emoji and braced myself for a long, fucking day.

I did some online shopping (I bought us a few sex toys).

I thought about jerking off, but it didn’t make sense now that I was in a serious relationship.

I made Shepherd’s pie because it was a time-consuming effort, and it gave me something to do.

After that, I tried to make crème br?lée, but it didn’t go as planned, so my failed attempt ended up in the trash can.

Darkness was falling outside when my phone pinged with a text.

Jordan: Luz, is Bazooka there?

Me: No, he hasn’t arrived yet.

Jordan: When he gets there… don’t freak out. And tell him to go to the hospital.

I jumped out of my chair.

Me: What happened?

Jordan: You didn’t hear it from me, but I heard that Mendoza’s men jumped him. It was like ten to one. He sent most of them to the hospital, but they roughed him up.”

My heart almost stopped beating.

Me: How do you know this?

Jordan: Bazooka told Chief Bibb, who told Adam, who told John Smith, who told Maddox, who told Patricia, who told me .

I was still reading the text when I heard the front door open. I was there in an instant, just as Bazooka came in.

“It’s okay,” he said, avoiding my eyes. “It’s better than it looks.”

I gasped and clamped a hand over my mouth.

“Baz…”

He gave me a small smile and pinched my cheek. “It’s fine, kitten.”

It wasn’t fine. In fact, I had to force myself not to look away because he looked awful. His face was covered with bruises, his lip was bleeding, and he had a black eye. Blood was dripping out of his nose and all over his torn shirt. Even his pants were blood-stained. And he was limping.

“You need to go to a hospital, Bazooka,” I said, my throat constricting.

He shook his head. “Nah… I’ll be fine.”

“Please,” I whispered, wrapping my arm around his waist and helping him get to the bathroom. “Please… for me.”

“I’ll be fine, Luz,” he said with a sigh. “Trust me, okay? This isn’t my first rodeo.”

Well, it was mine. And I couldn’t bear to see him like this. I would have cried, but I didn’t want to upset him.

“I’ll take a shower,” Bazooka said, stripping. “Can you please find the first aid kit? It should be in the kitchen somewhere.”

I did what he said, as bile rose in my throat.

I prepared hot water and clean towels, trying to think of anything else he might need.

I was about to go get him when he came out of the bathroom dressed in his boxers.

His body was in bad shape as well. The purple contusions all over his chest and ribs were ugly to look at, and the gash on his thigh made me sick to my stomach. A knife wound, by the looks of it.

“It’s superficial,” Bazooka said, sitting down on the sofa. “Hand me the skin glue and some iodine.”

“Let’s just go to the hospital, huh?” I tried again, pleading with my eyes.

He smiled. “It’s fine, kitten. I don’t feel a thing.”

After he fixed himself, he rested his head on the sofa and closed his eyes, looking tired.

“Are you hungry?” I asked him, sniffling. “I made us Shepard’s pie.”

“Maybe later.”

I poured him a glass of water and made him take a few painkillers. After that, I sat beside him and rested my forehead on his shoulder, careful not to hurt him.

When he finally looked at me, his gaze was filled with sadness… no, disillusionment?

“Don’t be upset,” he said, brushing a strand of hair off my forehead. “I’ll be fine.”

I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. His mouth moved against mine, returning the kiss, before stopping abruptly.

“You can’t keep doing this, Luz,” Bazooka said with a sigh. “It was supposed to be for one night, remember?”

“I know, but…” I lowered my gaze, not knowing what to say. “I mean, I respect that. It’s just that… I can’t see you in pain, Baz. It’s killing me.”

I slid down the sofa and knelt in front of him, resting my forehead on his knee. It was still damp from the shower, and so, so warm. I breathed him in, drunk on that vanilla scent that haunted me in his absence.

“I can’t see you in pain,” I muttered, kissing his knee. “I can’t.”

I kept raining small kisses over his leg, unable to stop. He felt good, tasted good, smelled good, so much so that I was almost salivating. I traced his inner thigh with my tongue, and by the time I reached his boxers, he was rock-hard. For me.

“Luz…”

When he said my name, I looked at him. I could see the hesitation in his eyes mixed with desire and arousal.

“I just want to make you feel better,” I whispered. “Please, Baz. Let me do this for you.”

When I reached for his boxers, he raised his hips, helping me pull them down.

His long, hard dick flopped onto his belly, making my mouth water.

My vision swam. When I took his heavy, cum-filled nut in my mouth, he whimpered.

I sucked on it with relish before doing the same to the other one.

I traced the length of his shaft with my tongue until I reached the tip, then I gave it a good suck too.

At that point, he hissed and gripped my hair as a few drips of precum appeared on the slit.

I looked at him while wrapping my hand around his swollen shaft.

“Yeah?” I asked him, but my eyes begged.

He nodded, gasping when I took him deep into my mouth. Too deep, because I was greedy. Too fast. Too much. When his cockhead hit my throat, my eyes watered.

“Fuck, Luz!” he bit out, pulling at my hair to the point of pain. “Fuck!”

He sounded stunned. Astonished. Yess.

Then I let him take the reins. His grip on my hair tightened, as he gave my throat a good fuck.

The best. The fucking best. I was slobbering, and tears were running down my cheeks, but I didn’t care.

His awed moans fueled me. His heavy breathing drove me crazy.

My throat hurt, but it was the best pain. The fucking best.

I reached into my joggers and took out my aching dick while gagging on the fat cock in my mouth. I started to stroke myself, already on the fucking edge, when Bazooka pulled me off his engorged shaft.

“I’m going to come,” he bit out, panting. “Where do you want me?”

I buried my face in his trimmed pubes.

“In my mouth, Baz,” I murmured, breathing him in. “You taste so good, so give it to me all. Deep. Unload into my stomach if you can. Feed me.”

He growled and grabbed me by the hair, then shoved his dick in my mouth.

I started to swallow because he was already spilling down my throat.

He was giving it to me all as I asked him to.

He was feeding me. I was still choking on his cum when I gave my dick a few tugs, and it detonated.

I came with a muffled shout, spilling all over my hand and the floor, feeling brain-dead.

Giving and receiving. Swallowing and releasing.

When we were both done, I rested my head on his thigh, with his softening dick still in my mouth.

I was sucking on it as if it were a pacifier before he put a stop to it, making me whine in protest. When I looked at him, I smiled because Baz, in a post-orgasmic bliss, was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.

His eyes were heavily lidded; his pupils dilated.

His chest was heaving, and his cheeks were flushed, telling me someone just got a blowjob of a lifetime.

“Did you come?” he murmured huskily.

I raised my hand, which was covered in cum, as proof.

“Give me a taste,” he said.

I brought my hand to his mouth, gulping. He licked the cum off my palm, then smacked his tongue as if he were tasting me… really tasting me.

“You taste good, Luz,” he murmured with his eyes closed. “You taste so fucking good.”

After that, we had dinner—the real one. It meant double portions of Shepherd’s pie for each of us and a few glasses of sweet cherry wine Alain had brought.

We talked about his day, except for the part when he was attacked, because he refused to talk about it.

Then we talked about my day, without me telling him how much I missed him. After that, we went to bed. Together.

We lay there awake, with our limbs entangled, for long into the night.

I was basking in it all... his presence, his body heat, his scent.

I could still taste him in my mouth and feel him in my sore throat.

Yet, I never expected to feel such happiness, or the tears to appear in my eyes for no apparent reason.

One should have canceled the other out, but like rain on a sunny day, sometimes you would get both.

When Bazooka kissed my forehead, a tear slid down my cheek.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he said, cradling me in his arms. “What’s wrong?”

“I love you, Baz,” I muttered, hugging him tight. “I just… I just fucking do.”

As I mentioned before, keeping my mouth shut wasn’t my strong suit. Sometimes it turned good, sometimes it turned bad, but Baz deserved the truth.

I deserved it too.