Training Nathan [Hard Hits 6] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove) Read online

  Hard Hits 6

  Training Nathan

  Detective Nathan Stow is new to District Four’s elite department. On his first night out with the team, Nathan messes up big time. He arrests Chief Anderson’s son and mistakenly hauls him in for interrogation.

  Department of Defense instructor, Reed Anderson, is finally home to face his past after a long time away. He never expects life to be turned upside down by the devastating Detective Nathan Stow a few hours after returning home. Reed is a Dom who is tempted to take Nathan as his sub.

  Nathan can’t hide how he feels about Reed when they are together, but he knows that the chief’s son is untouchable. When Reed confronts Nathan about those long looks he’s casting, things rush out of control with a fiery kiss. Nathan has fallen for Reed, but he knows they can never be together. Will Nathan tell Reed how he feels before it’s too late?

  Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), BDSM, Contemporary

  Length: 30,764 words

  TRAINING NATHAN

  Hard Hits 6

  Tatum Throne

  EROTIC ROMANCE

  MANLOVE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Erotic Romance ManLove

  TRAINING NATHAN

  Copyright © 2013 by Tatum Throne

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-699-4

  First E-book Publication: September 2013

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

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  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my fabulous readers! I couldn’t do what I love without you!

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  About the Author

  TRAINING NATHAN

  Hard Hits 6

  TATUM THRONE

  Copyright © 2013

  Chapter One

  Detective Nathan Stow couldn’t remember the last time he got laid.

  The slow moments of a stakeout did that. They made one think about things they didn’t want to think about. Like oh, how he couldn’t remember the last time he slapped bodies without clothes on with a man.

  He lifted the binoculars to scan the flat box-style truck stop hotel off I-75. Night had given him added cover along the tree line. Off in the distance, the Cincinnati skyline edged into the Covington, Kentucky side. The Big Mac Bridge arched over the Ohio River like a lover desperate for more attention. The Motel Sex was busy with lots of people going at it tonight. They weren’t there about the sex though.

  Outside, there was a whole lot of nothing going on that resulted in jokes flying back and forth on the radio. He’d heard the one about the cowboy’s favorite position before and it still made him smile.

  Nathan sighed as he thought about calling his sometime fling Brant who worked with the prosecutor’s office. He’d give him a rough ride. Plus, he was good at getting him there fast, but in the end it was just pent up release, nothing more than exercise.

  Nathan thought about a hot thick cock shoving in and out of his ass, making his rim tingle with anticipation. Nathan reached for his cell phone and thought about sending Brant a text. The man was always ready and willing, no questions asked on either side. He stared at the phone a long time before putting it aside without sending the text. The last time they’d knocked boots was about four months ago, if he remembered right.

  Rain started to drip on the windshield from the oak tree shading his car. Nathan rolled his shoulders, trying to get comfortable. He tapped his thumb against the steering wheel. Frustration echoed through his body. He did not like the waiting game of police work.

  Their suspect wasn’t going to show. Nathan lifted the military grade binoculars, adjusting the fine definition. Lightning spun across the sky with thunder stalking after it. He adjusted the definition on the binoculars one last time before he lowered them.

  What’s this? Nathan ducked lower in his seat to catch a glimpse out of the driver’s side mirror. At the same time, he reached for the radio sitting on his lap. “Heads up. We got a hit on that black Wrangler. South side of the building, pulling in. I can’t make out the license plate from this distance.”

  TJ responded back. “Everyone, be cool. Let the target enter his room.”

  Nathan sat up straighter, every one of his muscles tensing as he saw their suspect get out of the vehicle. He was bigger than the average build the witness had given them. That wasn’t unusual. Eyewitness accounts tended to be off. He lifted the binoculars and zeroed in on his shadowed face.

  Dark black hair came down to his nape. His black leather jacket could easily hide weapons. A three-inch scar bridged the side of his cheek and cut hard to his ear. A shiver of heat started at the nape of Nathan’s ne
ck and zipped down his spine. Intrigue had Nathan adjusting the binoculars closer. It was as though Nathan was merely inches away. His gaze landed on their suspect’s full lips. There was something really sexual and sensual about a man with full lips. Nathan’s tongue licked out over his lower lip as though he could get close enough to taste. Their suspect grabbed a black duffle from the back of his vehicle and took the outside corridor to his hotel room. This thief was brazen with an urban edge and swagger that told the rest of the world to piss off.

  Nathan wanted him taken down bad. Tonight.

  “Nathan, are we a go?” TJ asked.

  Nathan picked up the radio and hesitated. His gut was screaming that this wasn’t their guy. There hadn’t been any mention of that scar from their eyewitness. That scar was too defined for it to go unnoticed. “Anyone get that license plate?”

  “Negative. We gotta go, Nathan. What’s the call?” TJ asked.

  The crackle of the radio had Nathan fine-tuning the adjustment. Safer was better than sorry as far as he was concerned. The tip that brought them out there to the Motel Sex was reliable. “As we planned.”

  “Copy that.”

  Nathan set the radio down and adjusted the wire beneath his hoodie. “Can you hear me?”

  “Loud and clear. Be safe out there,” TJ said.

  “Copy that.”

  Wind whipped a few strands of Nathan’s hair around his face that had managed to pull free from his baseball cap as he got out of the car. Rain hit his shoulders as he made his way across the parking lot and up the stairwell that led to the rooms. His Glock was buttoned down tight beneath his jacket and his badge was clipped to his jeans. The plan was simple, get in close enough to find out if their missing art was in the hotel room. Then he’d make the call to take down the suspect. It was risky. They usually didn’t get this close without just doing a takedown.

  Nathan sensed their team positioning around the motel. His bullet proof vest was tight against his white T-shirt. Adrenaline pumped through his blood. He lived for the rush of taking down a bad guy. Room twenty-one was at the end of the walkway. The lights were on inside. Nathan froze. The sound of headboard pounding sex came from the room next door. The woman was a screamer and the guy a groaner.

  Nathan whispered into the air. “Not our guy making sex time. Next door.”

  “Copy, Stow.”

  Nathan put his ear to the sea foam-green door and listened. Nothing. The curtains were pulled tight. There wasn’t even a flutter behind them. The door was the old style metal that could withstand the apocalypse if necessary. A Do Not Disturb sign hung off the cheap metal handle. Nathan pounded on the door as he pulled his Glock. He held it down the long length of his leg.

  “Hey, Chris! Open up! Open the freaking door!”

  The name was fictitious but the effect was the same. He knew if he made enough noise, their guy would come to the door. Nathan pounded harder as he saw their Vice team lining both sides of the walkway.

  “Come on! I came all the way from New York and you’re not going to even open the door?” he whined. “I’m not going away! You better open up! I just want to talk!”

  The door whipped open and Nathan came face-to-face with their target. His features were chiseled hard and thoroughly pissed off from interruption. A cheap, too-small hotel towel was clutched around his waist, and his body dripped with water. A black tribal tattoo wrapped around half his chest and probably ended somewhere on his thigh. Had Nathan had the time, he would have admired the intricate design.

  “I’m not Chris,” he said.

  There was a distinct bulge beneath the towel that had Nathan’s mind immediately imagining what the hidden equipment looked like. Nathan did one sweep of the room with his eyes and pushed his way in with the gun pointed at their suspect’s defined chest.

  “Police. Where’s the art?”

  The guy opened and snapped his mouth as he caught sight of the rest of the team rushing their way into the room with their weapons drawn. Water continued to drip from his black hair and down his chest. That midnight hair smoothed over his chest and tapered into the thickest happy trail Nathan had ever seen. Nathan pushed their suspect further into the room with his hand planted on his chest to clear the doorway. Their Vice team poured into the room, searching everywhere.

  “Clear!” Someone shouted from the back of the room.

  “Where’s the art?” Nathan demanded.

  “You’ve got the wrong man. I’m a . . .”

  “Hands up and turn around,” Nathan ordered.

  “What’s this about?”

  “Hands on your head and turn around.”

  The guy hesitated before cursing several times. He turned around and held his hands up. To Nathan’s amazement, the towel stayed tucked precariously at the corner of the guy’s hip. Nathan replaced his gun. Nathan anchored his hand on top of their suspect’s interlocked fingers. Their suspect’s hands were hot beneath his palm. Nathan used his foot to spread the suspect’s legs. He did a quick pat down of what lay beneath the towel.

  He moved his hands around their suspect’s tight, muscled ass and down the side of the towel covering his leg. Nathan repeated the motion on the other side while his right hand moved up the inside of his wet leg. He didn’t get far before the back of his hand brushed the head of his cock.

  “I’m not hiding anything down there,” he growled.

  “I’m doing this for my safety. Understand?” He nodded. “Keep your fingers interlocked on the back of your head.”

  He did as ordered. Nathan braced his palm against their suspect’s hands again. He snagged his cuffs and reached for the suspect’s right wrist. He snapped the cuff around his wrist, but their suspect spun around fast, jerking Nathan off balance.

  “What the hell?”

  Nathan tripped their suspect onto the queen-sized bed where he landed hard with a bounce that sent the headboard knocking solidly into the wall. Nathan was yanked down on top of their suspect.

  Time stopped. The motion of the room swirled into a blur of dark movement as the Vice tactical team dove for them. Smoky gray eyes locked onto Nathan in the most possessive and surprising way. Nathan’s hands and fingers tightened on the man’s shoulders.

  Nathan rocked his hips forward, trying to move off of him and that animal gaze widened in surprise. Nathan moved his legs up to pin him. The Vice team rushed the bed. Elbows and fists started to fly as they subdued their suspect. Their suspect’s arm came flying out, blocking a punch that nearly landed on Nathan’s face by one of his team. A fist connected with Nathan’s cheek, ringing his bell.

  Before Nathan realized what was happening, he was off of their suspect and four of the Vice squad had taken over the arrest. Nathan touched his throbbing cheek and felt the warmth of blood.

  Heat rushed to Nathan’s cheeks when he saw the towel sitting limp on the floor. Their suspect was pinned. Nathan’s gaze sprinted up their suspect’s legs. Dark hair swirled around thick athletic thighs. Even darker freckles were stamped on the outside of those calves and thighs. Nathan couldn’t resist letting his gaze flow onward. His breath caught in his chest when his gaze landed on his cock. Nathan swallowed hard as he took a long drink of his thick, ruddy cock lying on his right leg. His dark balls lay heavily on the bed between his thighs. Nathan let his gaze dance up hard mismatched abs. Light glinted off the twin nipple rings on his chest. Nathan turned away from the bed, but the vision of their suspect naked was burned on his retinas.

  When Nathan regained his composure, he glanced back at the bed to see that their suspect had been cuffed and was sitting up on the bed. A surly frown twisted his lips.

  Nathan tried to put his gaze everywhere, but their suspect’s naked body. TJ read him his rights. On the table by the window, Gage was going through his bag.

  “What’ve you got?” Nathan asked.

  “Nothing. Just clothes. Laptop.”

  His wallet was on the table. Nathan flipped it open. The driver’s license was out of state. Ree
d Anderson was from Chicago. The name sounded familiar but Nathan couldn’t place it. He looked at the man on the bed who was sitting on the edge. The towel had been bunched and tossed across his hips. He looked royally pissed off. Over his shoulder, Nathan caught sight of scars etched across their suspect’s wide shoulders. A chill raced down Nathan’s spine. There was only one thing that could cause that type of scaring. Torture.

  Nathan snagged his cell phone and called headquarters. How the hell did Reed get those scars? Jane picked up on the first ring. He headed out of the room and onto the walkway. “I need a background done. Reed Conner Anderson.”

  He rattled off the rest of the info he had on Reed and waited. His gaze went between their unmarked cars to the activity in the hotel room. The place was a dump inside and out. It was the kind of place no one wanted to spend the night in without a can of Lysol handy. Jane came back on the line.

  “Okay, your man Anderson is clean. As in squeaky. Not even a speeding ticket. He once worked with a security firm out of Chicago. It’s known for being a Midwestern Fort Knox.”

  “You sure?” Nathan asked.

  “Positive.”

  “Anything else?”

  “He is or was military. I can’t find any discharge info on him.”

  “What branch?”

  Jane laughed. “You’re going to love this. It’s actually stamped classified. There must be some things above both of our pay grades.”

  “Okay, thanks,” Nathan said.

  Nathan cursed as he hung up his cell phone. The chances of this man being the one they were looking for was slim to none. He didn’t fit the profile. They had to let him go. Nathan caught TJ’s attention and motioned for him to step outside.