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Unobtainable
Unobtainable
Unobtainable
Ebook62 pages46 minutes

Unobtainable

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Scott O’Hara and Edgar Lopez have been partners in the homicide unit of Haydon Cliff’s Police Department for the last couple of years. Edgar is openly gay and a bit of a player. Though Scott is also gay he keeps it to himself. Even from Edgar.

Until one night, when a slightly drunk Scott initiates sex between them.

Scott doesn’t expect the sex to be repeated. He doesn’t do one-night stands or fuck-buddies. But Edgar has other ideas and Scott can’t seem to resist his sexy partner.

While they try to solve the mystery of who is murdering Haydon Cliff’s homeless, they also try to solve the mystery of whether Edgar’s heart can really be unobtainable.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherJMS Books LLC
Release dateJan 13, 2018
ISBN9781634864428
Unobtainable
Author

Shawn Lane

Shawn Lane is a multi-published author of gay romance. She lives and works in Southern California. She has been published by Loose Id, Amber Quill Press, Evernight Publishing, MLR Press, JMS Books, and Ellora’s Cave. For more information, visit smlgr8.blogspot.com.

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    Book preview

    Unobtainable - Shawn Lane

    Epilogue

    Chapter 1

    My alarm screamed loudly from the clock radio next to my bed. It was set to a station that played classic rock, but at the moment the DJ was trying to be funny in a nasally voice. I waved my hand in its general direction. The clock radio had been a gift from my sister a few years ago, and not only did it project the time in big red letters on the ceiling, but it was motion activated. And automatically adjusted itself for the two time changes during the year as well as reset itself whenever the power went out.

    I squinted at the ceiling time display.

    Son of a bitch.

    Five in the morning. Still dark outside and I sure as hell did not want to get out of bed. I could hear a little splatter of rain. Traffic was going to be terrible. No one in California could drive in the rain. There’d be plenty of car accidents on the too oil-slicked roads.

    I rolled out of bed, eying the empty space that hadn’t been empty a few hours ago. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about what had happened the night before. It sure as hell was never supposed to have happened.

    Fuck.

    After I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower, I stood at my toilet to take a leak. When had Edgar even left? I didn’t recall him getting out of bed. He must not have bothered to wake me. That I would have remembered.

    I’d been drunk when we started. Drunk when I kissed him. If I was honest, I had started it. Which made sense. I was the one who’d been hung up on him for the last two years. But I was keeping that to myself. Or I was until I kissed him. And kissed him. Sure, Edgar had responded. Didn’t hesitate at all to fuck me. Shouldn’t really be a surprise there either. Edgar fucked any willing guy.

    And wasn’t that the problem?

    I got in the shower and washed up. When I was done drying off, I pulled on jeans and a maroon T-shirt and went out to the kitchen to make coffee. There was no sign that Edgar had ever been there. But I knew I hadn’t imagined our fevered kisses, his body slamming into mine.

    While I waited for my coffee to brew, I sat at the table, eating from a package of powdered donuts, and went over the file I’d brought home with me last night. So far there’d been two murders of homeless men in local parks. I worked in homicide and for the last two years Edgar Lopez had been my entirely unobtainable partner.

    I didn’t fool myself that having sex with Edgar meant I obtained him either. Edgar was a player. And I’d known that.

    The coffeemaker beeped, indicating it had finished the brew process. I got up and poured myself a cup with cream and sugar and went back to my donuts and the file.

    I doubted, prior to the night before, Edgar had even guessed I was into guys. Edgar made no secret of being gay himself. But I wasn’t sure the police chief would allow two gay cops to be partnered together even in our fairly liberal city of Haydon Cliff. I’d always figured who I slept with was no one’s business anyway.

    Regarding the case, the only pattern that really stood out with our two homicides was that both men were homeless and sleeping in parks. They had been killed in parks miles from each other and they hadn’t even been killed the same way. One had been stabbed while the other had been strangled. No DNA had been left on either victim by whomever had killed them.

    Still, our captain didn’t believe in coincidences and he was completely convinced the murders were related.

    I finished my donuts, drained my coffee mug, and stood. I grabbed a travel mug and filled it with more coffee, and headed out of my apartment to my car.

    I had

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