Chapter One

"Those are some pretty, pretty muscles." Sam sighed and leaned back in his chair, arms clasped behind his head. As if they were at the beach.

Nik looked up from his book. Oh, hell yeah."Mmmmm-hmmmmm. Suppose he's got a brain to match?" Brains were sexy.

"Gawd, I hope not. Way to ruin a good work of art." Sam fanned himself with the magazine he'd been dozing under. Even sitting in the shade, the heat was almost too much. The sky was clear and blue, with the requisite August blazing sun. Insects droning, air stagnant, drying grass being all golden and reflecting the light. Thank god it rarely got muggy here or it'd be even worse. Two more weeks and the next term would start and they could move back to civilization. Just one more year of grad school, then he, too, could be unemployed and overeducated.

The cop sitting on the motorcycle was pretty fucking hot, there was no way around that. Nik didn't think they probably hired stupid guys to be cops, though. Especially not State Highway Patrol.

The cop swung a leg off his bike and stood up. Sam sucked in a breath and Nik made a little, high-pitched, semi-conscious noise. Those pants were tight. They showed everything Officer Eye Candy was packing. He busied himself around the bike, doing whatever it is that motorcycle cops do when they stop at a small-town corner store for whatever it was they stopped for. It was 2pm, way past donut time. That ass didn't look to be packing any spare donuts. It was packing dimples, though. Dimpled ass cheeks made such great handholds. Nik's fingers twitched.

Really, though, he wasn't Nik's type. He was tall and butch and blond and very much everything needed to remind Nik why he'd hated growing up in this predominantly white, hick town in the American west. He was okay with admitting this guy pushed all his buttons.

Nothing to do but push buttons in return. Not that it would be hard to do given the motivation. Wouldn't hurt to let himself enjoy the man-candy.

The cop finally finished whatever it was he was doing, making all those precise, efficient, military-esque movements and turned toward them. He'd taken off his uniform jacket and stowed it somewhere. Had to be too much in this heat.

He had that sort of swagger most cops seemed to, but with a hypnotic, loose-hipped twist. Like he had a well-lubricated and very, very agile pelvis.

"Drool check," Sam whispered.

It wasn't until Officer Eye Candy was standing right in front of them, on the shadowed porch of the Whitetail Rock General Store that Nik realized he was still staring.

"You boys enjoying the show?" The cop said it just like that; a good-ol'-boy-meets-furriners, walking, talking stereo-type.

Hmmmm, flirting or baiting the gays?

Didn't matter. Men this hot shouldn't speak. It completely ruined the fantasy. Nik looked up. Slowly. He knew once he got to the eyes, he'd have to stop enjoying the show, and he really, really wanted it to last. An Indian gay boy in the middle of Nowhere, USA had to take his eye-fucks where he could find them.

Best. Eye-fuck. Ever.

The chest was kind of a disappointment. He was wearing something padded. A bullet-proof vest? Nik didn't dwell on why the thought of the cop needing a bullet-proof vest was kind of hot. But the arms. Works of art. Corded muscle, ropy veins, long-fingered, defined hands. Perfect, tanned skin. Light sheen of sweat. Ungh.

Nik's eyes stuttered on the notch of the cop's neck, then trailed up. Square jaw, ticking jaw muscle, high cheekbones. Even the mirrored sunglasses were sexy. The blond hair was the perfect finishing touch, even with helmet-do. Officer Eye Candy was walking, talking sex. In a very 'me Aryan, you inferior' kinda way.

Mmmmmm. Police brutality. Nik was fair-minded enough to admit he wanted to have an intimate relationship with Officer Eye Candy's nightstick. The one in his pants, not the one he was wearing on that belt. Or wasn’t wearing, actually.

Right. Button-pushing. Focus on the mission.

Finally, Nik looked into the cop's eyes. Sunglasses. *I bet they're blue*. He smiled brilliantly. "I don't suppose you're actually my birthday present and you're here to take your clothes off? I'll pay extra for a lap dance."