Unlawfully Wed

Alex pulled up in front of a modest one-story home in a quaint neighborhood with a racing heart and a dry mouth, his leg beginning to cramp from how hard he was pushing down on the gas pedal. His heart was racing, and his head was pounding, but he needed this. He needed to do something that made him focus on the case, not on how attractive George looked without that layer of baby fat, and if he wasn’t clear headed . . . the case would get tossed to the wayside, and George could end up spending life in prison unfairly.

He cleared his throat and let his mind drift as far away from George towards Ryker as he glanced up at the house and saw that in one of the upstairs windows, the curtain was tucked to the side and Ryker’s silhouette was clearly visible in the shadows. He seemed to already be preparing himself if the bends in the shadows were any indication. Alex couldn’t help but wonder if Ryker was making his movements specifically with Alex in mind, or if he had a bit of an exhibitionist streak to him.

Alex would be lying if he said the latter didn’t interest him.

He slid his car into the driveway and got out, coughing uncomfortably before shoving a hand in his pocket. He clenched his other hand into a fist and made his way up to the front door. He glanced up at the window again before stepping up onto the porch, his heart race increasing as he saw a tell-tale rocking of the shadow’s hips. He could feel his cock beginning to stir in his pants, and he moved his fist up to knock at the door before letting it drop back down and settle on the door knob. He gave it a small twist, his stomach warming as he felt the smooth bronze metal twist beneath his hand.

Alex took the unblocked entrance as a sign of Ryker’s readiness for him, and he stepped into the house with butterflies in his stomach and the blood in his body rushing south faster than he could remember it having ever done. He cleared his throat again and twisted the hair band on his wrist before reaching up and twisting his hair into a low bun, sliding the band off his wrist with his fingertips and around the wad of hair. He strained his ears and listened for the sounds of Ryker’s deep breaths and low groans, which echoed around the empty hallway.

Within a few minutes, Alex had made his way to the bedroom, his shirt and pants coming off along the way so when he stepped into the dim lights of the bedroom, all he was wearing was his olive-green undershirt and his black plaid boxers. He knocked lightly on the doorframe, capturing Ryker’s attention.

Ryker, who was completely naked, smirked as he eyed Alex and propped his left foot up on the bed, leaning forward until his knee was at a 90 degree angle and put everything on display for Alex’s hungry eyes, from the heavy swell of his balls to the pink pucker of his rear. He had his hand wrapped around his cock, his long fingers alternating between teasing the slit and squeezing his base. He bit down on his lower lip and looked at Alex through his eyelashes. “Are you going to stay over there all day or are you going to come and help me with this?”

Alex let out a low growl and lunged forward, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and pushing them down to the floor. He nearly tripped over the elastic, his cheeks lighting and his breath catching as he corrected his footing and righted his stance. He copied Ryker’s expression, biting his lip and holding his breath as he lowered himself onto his knees and began his work.

***

An hour and a half later, Alex was back in his car, his mood sated and his hands and feet tingling.. It had been a while since he had had a proper orgasm with a partner (normally his mind drifted too much to his past relations . . . and screaming out the wrong name wasn’t exactly what he needed for repeat lovers), but with Ryker . . . he was totally out of his own head, and he didn’t think of George once.

Well, at least not until it was over, and he opened his eyes to properly get a look at the man’s face as he released Alex’s cock from between his lips. he had all but forgotten that he was here, in the town, specifically to see George again, and that his repeat visits with Ryker would only happen if he took on George’s case, and frequented the prison. If he stayed back in his comfortable suburban home near the city, he wouldn’t have a reason to see Ryker again.

Ale slouched back in his seat for a moment, glancing up at the window to see that Ryker was staring down at him in a look of confusion. Alex straightened his back and gave the other man a quick wave before turning the key in the ignition and getting ready to go. He turned his shoulders and looked back before reversing, his mouth suddenly going dry as he pulled onto the street, and his breathing quickening.

Alex ignored the symptoms as long as he could, but as he swerved through the back roads and back towards the highway, it became abundantly clear that he was in the midst of an anxiety attack. It wasn’t often that he had them, at least not anymore, but when they hit, they hit hard. He bit down on his lower lip and kept his eyes trained on the cars speeding past and around him as he took deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth, doing his best to keep them slow and languid, and not in the hyperactive rhythm his body was naturally taking.

It didn’t seem to be working, however, and forty agonizing minutes after Alex had gotten onto the highway, he had to exit towards a truck stop to calm himself down. He pulled into the most secluded spot he could find and shut the engine off, leaning forward and dropping his forehead against the steering wheel. He moved his hands up so that they were next to his face, the gentle brushing of his fingertips against his cheeks a gentle weight that helped ground him. He squeezed his eyes shut and paced his breaths again, although this time, he alternated his inhalations and exhalations with moments of holding his breath. It was a technique that John, actually, had taught him back when they were dating. Alex frequently had anxiety attacks (a side effect of his time in the military), something that embarrassed him greatly, especially as he hadn’t figured out how to calm himself down. He had been humiliated the first time he had one in front of John, but John was patient and talked him through it.

Alex waited until he felt like he could breathe again before reaching into the cup holder and pulling out his phone. Maybe talking to John now would help him calm down enough to make the rest of the drive home.

John answered on the third ring. “Hey, Alex. Are you back already? Damn, you drive fast.”

Alex chuckled dryly. “No, I’m still a couple of hours away. I just . . . ” He trailed off, sighing.

John picked up immediately on what he meant. “Got it. Well what did George say? Did he do it or not?”

“What do you think?”

“Innocent until proven guilty?” Alex didn’t answer. “Alex, I know that you want to believe he’s innocent of whatever happened, but if this case is going to be too difficult for you—”

“I don’t know what to think. He was sincere in his words, and he seemed to really be distressed about his wife’s death—”

“Woah, rewind. Martha’s dead? How did we not hear about that? Better yet, how did you not know about this?”

“I don’t know, John, but that’s not the point. George said that Martha committed suicide but that there’s no way to prove it because her body hasn’t been found yet.” Alex stopped himself from reminding John of the Aaron Burr case.

John, however, knew what Alex was talking about. “Ah. So you think it might be another Burr-style murder. Is there anything you remember about George’s past that could lead up to that?”

Alex shook his head before remembering that John couldn’t see him. “No. Nothing.”

“No practice writing with his non-dominant hand? No sudden spurts of violence?”

“Nothing that I remember.”

“What about his PTSD? Did he ever react so suddenly that he hurt you, even accidently? Alex any little thing—”

“No, John, there’s nothing.” Alex closed his eyes again and moved a hand up to press his fingers against his eyelids. “George and I may have had our issues, but he was never violent. Even when he’d lash out during his nightmares it would just be verbally, never physically.” He took a deep breath. “Look, John, I have no idea what to think. Part of me really wants him to be guilty so that I can live the rest of my life without wondering where he is, but the other part of me is puzzled as to how something like this could even happen. I just don’t know what to think about all of this.”

“You don’t have to take the case, Alex. You did what George asked and came to see him. You don’t owe him anything, and if you don’t want to take his case, you don’t have to say anything else or explain anything to him. If you don’t want to take the case, you don’t have to. Hell, you don’t even have to go back and see him again, if you don’t want to. He will figure out pretty quickly that you don’t want anything to do with him when months go by without hearing a word from you.”

“I know.” Alex moved his hand to the bridge of his nose and pinched, trying to relieve some of the pressure building up behind his eyes. “I don’t know what I want to do, John. I haven’t the slightest fucking idea.”

“Listen, just get home, and we will figure it out later. Want the guys to come over and distract you?”

Alex didn’t say anything, but he could help but think of what a failure that had been last time.

John, once again, knew exactly what was Alex was thinking. “Red wine and Chinese takeout?”

Alex let out a long breath. That most definitely sounded like something that could calm him down. “Definitely. See you around seven?”

“Yeah. See you then. Love you, dude.”

“Love you, too.” Alex pulled his phone away from his eye and dropped it onto the passenger seat without bothering to hang up, knowing that John would go ahead and take care of that. He took another few deep breaths before turning the car back on and readjusting his seating. Once he was comfortable, he pulled out of his parking spot and back onto the highway.

Nothing like three hours of open road for him to be left alone with his thoughts.