The Assignment (Assignment #1)

Summary: Detective Nicholas Valenti, tall, dark and stoic, has been best friends with his partner, Sean O’Brian for six years. The two men have seen each other through divorce, disaster and danger and saved each other’s asses more times than Valenti can count. Exactly when he started seeing his blond, intense partner in another light, Valenti isn’t

Summary: Detective Nicholas Valenti, tall, dark and stoic, has been best friends with his partner, Sean O’Brian for six years. The two men have seen each other through divorce, disaster and danger and saved each other’s asses more times than Valenti can count. Exactly when he started seeing his blond, intense partner in another light, Valenti isn’t really sure. He only knows that he wants O’Brian in a way that had nothing to do with friendship and everything to do with possession. It is a desire he will have to hide forever because O’Brian is undeniably straight.

Just as Valenti is coming to grips with his new, unacceptable feelings for his partner their police Captain puts them on a new case that could blow Valenti’s cover once and for all. He and O’Brian are going undercover at the country’s largest and most infamous gay resort to bust a notorious drug lord and stop the shipments of poison cocaine that are flooding the gay bars all over the city.

Now Valenti will have to make a choice between friendship and desire. He and O’Brian will play the roles of gay men that will push the limits of their relationship to the breaking point. Will their time at the RamJack forge a new bond between them or destroy their partnership forever?

Excerpt: “The blowjob contest is going to start in a few minutes, and after that there’s the Wankathon.”

“Wankathon?” Valenti shook his head -- had he heard the man correctly?

“A jerk-off contest,” Peter explained. “We have prizes for the fastest time, the slowest time, and the best technique.” He shrugged as though it was all standard procedure.

“Um, I think we’re going to take a pass this time,” Valenti said, turning to his partner. “Right, Sean?”

“I think we should do it,” O’Brian said unexpectedly.

“What?” Valenti felt as though his partner had punched him in the stomach. “You think we should what?”

“Look.” O’Brian took him by the arm with a nod of apology to Peter and pulled him close to whisper in his ear. “Don’t you see, Nicky? This is the golden opportunity we’ve been looking for to secure our cover once and for all. If we really put on a show, the whole damn place’ll hear about it, and there’s no way Conrad will suspect us of being straight.”

“I’m beginning to wonder about us myself,” Valenti muttered, which earned him a blank look from his partner. “But, O’Brian, there’s no way I’m going to blow you or ... or let you blow me in front of this crowd of perverts. There are limits.” He could feel the hot blush creeping over his face as he talked; he couldn’t help remembering the brief touch of his partner’s mouth on his cock the night before. If O’Brian was thinking along similar lines, his face didn’t show it.

“Who said anything about blowjobs, Valenti?” he argued. “Peter there said there was a jerk-off contest, too.”

“The Wankathon? You want to enter the Wankathon?” The unreality of what he was saying washed over Valenti, and he had an almost insurmountable urge to burst into laughter. The corners of his mouth twitched despite his best efforts, and suddenly he was snickering like a kid. O’Brian took one look at his partner and started laughing, too.

“Yeah,” he managed to say between snorts of laughter. “I wanna join the Wankathon. I’m gonna be king of the Wankathon, babe. Bet I set a new wanking record.”

“Sean, be serious,” Valenti pleaded, trying to get a grip on himself. He was glad they were hidden away in the corner, where not many people could see them cutting up like a couple of school kids.

“I am being serious,” O’Brian insisted. “Look, babe, I know it’s not your thing, so I’m not askin’ you to do it. But I can get up there and choke the chicken with the best of ’em if it means we take Conrad down in flames. You have to admit it would really help our cover.”

“Yeah, it would, but are you sure?” Valenti frowned, not liking the idea of dozens of pairs of hungry eyes on a part of O’Brian he had yet to really look at himself. His partner shrugged.

“Sure, I’m sure. I’d do worse than that to get this bastard. You grab us a seat. I’m gonna go tell Peter I’ll do it.”

[later:]

“All right now, gentlemen, that was just the beginning. For our next event, may I present to you a RamJack tradition -- the Wankathon!” Peter’s voice rang out over the buzz of the crowd, and O’Brian got to his feet, rubbing the bulge in his shorts reflexively. “Will the wankers and the wankees please come to the stage.” Peter continued.

“The ... what?” Valenti could only stare as a new group of men filed onto the stage, O’Brian among them.

“Ah, we appear to have an odd number here, gentlemen.” Peter was looking over the men on the stage. “We can’t have that, now, can we? Young man ...” He gestured for O’Brian, who came obligingly forward. “Will your sponsor be performing with you, or will you have a substitute wanker?”

“Uh ...” O’Brian looked as close to panicked as Valenti had ever seen him.

“I’ll do it!” It was the voice of Harry, the Neanderthal, and Valenti saw the involuntary tic of his partner’s facial muscles as the huge man began to wade through the seats nearest the stage. O’Brian’s green eyes were huge, and his normally tan face was pale as paper.

“That won’t be necessary,” Valenti heard himself saying. Rising to his feet, he made his way to the stage, vowing that he would kill O’Brian for getting them into this in the first place. “I’ll do it,” he said, reaching his partner’s side and laying a possessive hand on O’Brian’s arm. He could feel the tension thrumming through the compact frame, and he knew his friend was drawn as tight as a wire.

“Sorry, Valenti. Had no idea,” O’Brian muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

“Neither one of us did. But I think it’s too late to back out now,” Valenti whispered back. The lights pointed at the stage were hot. Now that he was up on it, he realized he was sweating freely. There was a loud buzzing sound in his ears that must have been Peter talking because Valenti could see his mouth moving. But nothing the tiny man was saying was registering as words. He saw the other contestants begin to get into position and suddenly had to fight the panic that wanted to crawl up the back of his throat like bile.

“What the hell are we supposed to be doing, anyway?” he whispered desperately to O’Brian.

“Uh, I think you’re s’posed to jerk me off.” His partner already had his shorts unzipped and was standing with strong legs braced apart and his heavy shaft in one hand. Trying to make it easy for me, Valenti thought and was grateful. If he’d had to unzip O’Brian himself and then fumble around in the confines of those tight shorts for his partner’s dick ... well, the stage fright was already bad enough. At least all he had to do was step up behind O’Brian as he saw the other sponsors doing behind their boys and take his friend’s cock in his hand.

Listen to me --“that’s all I have to do”? Once again he had the sensation that his universe was turning inside out. He’d never handled another man before, and now he was expected to manipulate his partner to orgasm, and in front of a crowd, no less. It was all so surreal

“Not sure I can do this, Sean,” he muttered in his partner’s ear, feeling a trickle of cold sweat run down the groove of his spine like an icy finger.

“You got no choice, babe -- this could make or break us. Here.” Valenti felt a strong hand close on his wrist and pull his arm down and around O’Brian’s body. Then he felt the hard column of warm flesh brushing his palm. He grasped it automatically, a part of his brain registering how similar and yet how different it was from his own. “That’s it,” O’Brian whispered, and Valenti felt his partner back up against him so that the round, tight ass was pressed against his groin. “Now touch me, babe. Need to feel you touch me.”