REAL NAME

ELIJAH STONE POV

   “Do you like seeing me in handcuffs? Does it do something to you?” he still has the confident smirk on his face when he asks. His brown eyes locked on mine like he can see me coming undone.

 “Is your real name Jesse?” I force the words out, keeping my eyes trained away from him, I can really do this. Confidence trickles back in. I puff my chest out, widening my stance, I don’t have to look at him…

 He shuffles to the side, planting himself right at my eye level. His smirk tells me he did that on purpose, he loves whatever game this is, he is an expert and I am drowning in it.

“I don’t think it’s fair that you get to ask the questions, get your answer and I have nothing.”

One of the preliminary rules of questioning a suspect, is give and take, I have to give him something, and somehow he knows this, and he is going to use it.

 “You were caught at a crime scene, Mr. Harding…”

“Yes, but innocent till proven guilty.” He shrugs his big shoulders lazily.

 “If you want to know anything from me, you would have to answer my own questions, and they are pretty much harmless.”

 I hate that I’m noticing this, but I wonder if his tan is real, if his shoulders are the same color as his face…

 Breathing in and out hard through my nostril  re-centering myself, a trick Viv taught me a while back.

“Wait, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. I want to put you in handcuffs… see what expression you would make when I touch you, watch you struggle under me…”

Heat rushes through me.

 Why do I want it too?

Why is my body responding to everything he says like it was normal?

 I am not like that, I am not queer.

 “You have been arrested for something else, don’t add sexual harrassment to your charges.” I tell him, nostrils flaring in disgust at him, at my body for liking it, at myself for letting it continue. if I had shut it down long ago, he wouldn’t have drag it this long.

 His face contorts into something that looks like a sneer, the first expression I see on his face that isn’t a confident smirk.

“Where then, do I go to report that I had been sexually harassed by an officer in this very office?”

Hot, white fear runs through my body. He was right, i did touch him like that, never mind that it started off as an accident, it still happened.

 “It was an accident.”

He shrugs, his face relaxing to it’s default mode, a cocky smirk, he likes something about my reaction, he anticipated it and I played right into his hands.

 “And it’s just harmless flirting. Unless you, like that guy with the gigantic forehead there, don’t think gay people have the right to flirt.” he nods at Mave, who really does have a large forehead.

I blink, not knowing what to answer, even if technically he didn’t ask a question, I still have to say something, something that would make him stop.

 “You don’t have to answer, your actions already answered for you.”

I look up to ask what actions he is talking about, only to find I am eye level with him, he had covered the space between us, the one I purposefully kept because my thoughts were dangerous close to him. And my eyes make the mistake of falling to his lips, and I let out a soft gasp.

 They are pink, plump and I ached to feel them.

Stretched into a smirk, he knows he got me, he knows I am even harder right now thinking about kissing him. He had consumed my thoughts, there’s no single normal thought on my mind right now.

 “I am only returning the favor.” he whispers.

There’s no time to decipher his words, his hand lands on my crotch and a small sound slips past my lips as I stand shell shocked, staring at him. He is holding me through my pants, his fingers are wrapped around me…

 “Bigger than I expected.” he murmurs, his eyes on mine, searching for something, I don’t know what.

He is holding my… um, my private part in his hand, and I like it… and I want to shrug off my pants for him… a small part of my mind that is still normal makes me jump away from him, he smiles, like he had been betting on that reaction and won.

 “What…?” I am panting, so it comes out breathy.

His smile seems to stretch after that.

“Oops… an accident.” he says wiggling his fingers at me.

I can still feel the ghost of his fingers around me, and I am straining in my pants, begging for a release. He is dangerous, I can’t stay here much longer.

 He walks back to his previous spot, lazily, as if he didn’t just touch me, like it meant nothing to him, while it means everything to me. Why would I react that way?

“My name is Jesse Harding, there’s no information you would find about me that’s a lie.” He says, all in lazy confidence.

I nod, swallowing, trying to find my center once again, while everything is spiraling out of control fast. Where was I? What did I have to ask him again? Why am I still hard??

 “I answered because you answered, your reaction is answer enough. You do want to be in handcuffs, you do want me to touch you.”

Every word he utters is real, everything he says is the truth, and I hate that I am realizing that, I don’t want it to be true. I have Viv. I would never in a million years cheat on her, and lastly, I am not an ass licker.

 “What were you doing at the Prime Minister’s house?”

He shakes his head like I still am a confused little child that he has to talk to.

“You haven’t answered my own question, pretty boy. Where would you like me to touch you?”

Just when I was starting to get my bearings. Gritting my teeth, I hold on to the last bit of sanity I have left, the part of me that is so little but remembers that the man in front of me is a suspect, he had been found peeping into the house i and my team were surveilling.

 Focus.

 “I don’t want you to touch me, keep your hands to yourself henceforth.”

He grins like I admitted the opposite.

This guy infuriates me. His handsome face, and his confident swagger, everything about him pushes me to the brink. I don’t feel hostile towards anybody, I don’t get mad at anyone, unless they were vile criminals that had been proven guilty. He is still innocent, so why…?

 “Liar, liar, pants on fire…” he sing songs. Grating on my last nerve.

“I will tell you anyway. You should know I am an art curator, I curated art for a client’s private museum, and I like to visit. Like checking on a kid you raised… then James..”

 “The prime minister.” I correct. And he only rolls his eyes.

“James bought the painting off my client, and wouldn’t let me look at it, I just wanted to know it was in good hands.”

 I narrow my eyes at him, and he shrugs.

“You knew he had security…”

“And a pet police department for a haunting dog.” he adds.

My jaw clenches.

He didn’t just say that. His eyes rolls again, like I was being unreasonable.

 “Everyone knows the MARC teams are overpriced guard dogs for anyone who can afford it, you aren’t even a real department.”

I almost punch him.

The only reason I don’t is because somehow, all he he’s done is tell the truth.

 “You knew he had over paid guard dogs protecting him, and you risked your life to look at a painting?”

He nods, smiling. Smug. Satisfied.

I want to hit him.

I want to kiss him.

I do neither. I walk out.

 Mave is asleep at his desk, and Jake is waiting for me. My face burns with shame. Did he see what Jesse did? Even if he didn’t, I did, and that’s bad enough.

“Confirm with the security if that’s his first time at the house, check if the prime minister got a new painting, trace it see if his name pops up. Call me when you find anything.”

 He nods and I risk one look at Jesse, he smiles at me. Another flash of anger surges through me, and I know I cannot be in the same place as him.

I have to leave, fast.