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Don't Let Go
Don't Let Go
Don't Let Go
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Don't Let Go

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Part 3 of the Tyack & Frayne Mysteries

What’s haunting Lee Tyack? He’s moved in with Gideon Frayne, and they’re both loving their new lives. But the shadow is still there – a voice from hell that torments clairvoyant Lee, and which even the pragmatic copper Gideon can hear.

Gideon’s determined to protect his lover. But after a serious injury on duty, Gideon finds out the hard way that he needs protection too. His job’s on the line and he’s scared. Worst of all, he thinks he knows who that voice belongs to – and he can’t stop Lee from heading off to confront this most terrifying ghost from his past.

When the full spring moon rises over Cornwall’s rugged coast, and the veil between the worlds grows thin, Tyack and Frayne must join forces to solve a decades-old mystery that still has the power to tear their world apart.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherHarper Fox
Release dateMar 18, 2014
ISBN9781910224014
Don't Let Go
Author

Harper Fox

Harper Fox is the author of many critically acclaimed M/M Romance novels, including Stonewall Book Award-nominated Scrap Metal and Brothers Of The Wild North Sea, Publishers Weekly Best Book 2013. Her novels and novellas are powerfully sensual, with a dynamic of strongly developed characters finding love and a forever future – after an appropriate degree of turmoil. She loves to show the romance implicit in everyday life, and she writes a sharp action scene too.

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  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    These soft brave boys. I love sinking into their world for a few hours, like a cozy blanket. This book in particular was 180 pages of pure hurt/comfort and I loved reading it

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Don't Let Go - Harper Fox

Don’t Let Go

Harper Fox

Copyright Harper Fox 2014

Published by FoxTales at Smashwords

Don’t Let Go

Revised edition, February 2014

Copyright © February 2014 by Harper Fox

Cover art by Harper Fox

Cover photo licensed through Shutterstock

All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from FoxTales.

FoxTales

www.harperfox.net

harperfox777@yahoo.co.uk

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Don’t Let Go

Harper Fox

Chapter One

Gideon had promised Lee a beautiful spring. A spring that would roll a carpet of green moss and turf right up to the door, if Lee would come with him and survive a Bodmin winter in his flat on the edge of the moor. This first day of February had risen in a tender blaze of gold, the cutthroat Atlantic wind easing at last, swinging round to bring scents of warming earth from the south. Gideon could keep his promise sooner than he’d thought. Bodmin had rolled out her carpet, and the doors – the beautiful French ones that led from their bedroom onto the old stone terrace – were open wide.

Birds, Lee said unexpectedly. He was comfortably settled on the window seat, thighs wrapped round Gideon’s, arms around his neck. He was stark naked, and should have been chilly in the breeze – the morning wasn’t that warm – but a diagnostic touch to his spine told Gideon he was fine, radiating heat like the wood-burning stove they’d just had installed in the front room. What birds am I seeing?

Too early for the curlews. Gideon had driven under a dappling flight of lapwing on his way back home. Lee’s back was to the window, though, his eyes closed against Gideon’s cheek. And Gideon had learned not to take his questions at face value. The feathered kind? Or the sort that flap around in that cavernous skull of yours?

Lee chuckled, the sound and the brush of his breath raising fine hairs on Gideon’s nape. The skull sort. Seagulls, actually. But little silver ones, like a kid would draw.

Gideon got it straight away. This was an easy one. Over the last month he’d helped Lee with two cases, staying in the background, listening to him, helping him lift off the masks from his monsters and beasts. This was less urgent. Let Lee figure it out for himself. No idea what you mean, he said innocently, hoisting him against his body. Hey, you put up more wallpaper. Top marks for effort, but you do know the pattern’s upside down, right?

Only took me four strips to work it out. Wallpaper’s your job, mate – I just hold the ladder. Now, these birds...

They were staring him right in the face. Gideon shook with repressed laughter. He’d just walked into the house five minutes before, found Lee in the bedroom, pulling off his paste-daubed T-shirt and jeans, and he’d seized his opportunity. Sorry to have jumped on you. Still, it’s more than a bit sexy, isn’t it – you bollock naked, and me still in all my kit?

Mm. I love your kit – even your scratchy dress jacket.

What about this jumper? How do you feel about that?

Lovely. Prefer what’s under it, though... What are you laughing about?

You. Missing the obvious.

Lee pushed back just far enough to look him over. Something about the jumper, he said, closing his hands on Gideon’s shoulders. Oh, hang about. Is this a new one? Didn’t you just have your collar number on your epaulettes here? He took a handful of the wool, examining it. What’s with these little silver V shapes?

Birds, maybe. Or my sergeant’s stripes.

What? Lee shoved him to arm’s length. "Gideon bloody Frayne... Did you get promoted?"

Yes. But it’s not a big deal, so close that gorgeous mouth before you catch a fly. I took the exams last year – one batch in March, and I did the OSPRE in September, just before I met you.

You did an osprey? Christ, no wonder they gave you these birds.

Objective Structured Performance Related Examination. Gideon wiped an imaginary bead of sweat off his brow at having got that out straight for once. They’re phasing it out, but lucky me – I still got to do it. Five roleplays with an actor. My Truro boss is a right bastard, too – he gave me a streaker.

Oh, my God. What did you do?

Why, I concealed his manhood with my headgear in the traditional fashion, led him off and told him where to seek counselling.

Lee exploded into laughter. And was that the right answer?

One of ’em, I suppose. Anyway, I passed.

"Why didn’t you tell me, Gid?"

Well, like I say, all this happened before you came along. And it doesn’t work like you might suppose – you’re not technically promoted even once you’ve passed. You have to wait for vacancies, for a sergeant to be made an inspector. There’s no ceremony or anything. No secret policemen’s ball.

I should damn well think not. I’d have wanted to lead you out for the first dance. Lee gave the silver birds a last admiring pat, took hold of the hem of the sweater and lifted it over Gideon’s head. So what happens now?

You take my shirt off too, I hope.

No, you moron. Lee began unbuttoning anyway, careful with his new-made sergeant’s crisp cotton. With your promotion. Do you have to abandon the village?

No, I’ll still be putting in shifts here. A bit more admin, a bit more time behind a desk in Truro, and I’ll have a couple of officers under me for training. Honest, there won’t be much difference. I wouldn’t have gone for the exams at all, only the top brass don’t like you just sitting festering at constable’s rank forever.

Well, congratulations. The shirt was neatly undone. Lee pushed it back, gave an appreciative onceover to the powerful chest and shoulders he’d exposed. And as someone who’s been under you many times now, I can guarantee you’ll be great. I’m so bloody proud of you.

Gideon shivered in pleasure. He really hadn’t cared about the examination process while he’d been going through it – hadn’t cared about much on his own account at all. But that had been before fate had swept Lee Tyack into his life. Now a promotion might be worth something. Thank you. There’s a pay bump that goes with it, too. So I was thinking, if you didn’t want to go through with your latest TV gig, you don’t have to.

Wow, Sergeant Rockefeller. Lee brushed a smiling kiss over Gideon’s mouth and set about unfastening his belt. "You mean you can afford to keep me and replace all the wallpaper I’ve destroyed?"

Yeah, I reckon. Seriously. Your last job was rough for you – why don’t you have a break, or go work down at the marina for a while?

This project’s different. I got back too late last night to tell you about it, but Anna has it all worked out. Allegedly haunted sites in West Cornwall – not houses but standing stones, ancient circles, things like that. And not the well-known ones. Real off-piste stuff that nobody’s studied before.

Sounds good. Better than bodies tumbling out of a wall at you, anyway.

Yeah. That Island thing was rough on Jack and Anna too. I really ditched out on them, and then they missed all the exciting bits. I can make it up to them now – got a brilliant place for them to start at, out near Drift. A fogou.

A what?

Fogou.

I thought you were enjoying yourself. Gideon waited until Lee had stopped laughing. "Is that how it’s pronounced? It’s terrible for a Cornishman not to know, but Pastor Frayne wasn’t keen on all your hippie pagan nonsense. I don’t think I ever heard it said."

"Well, like that. Drop the first O, more or less, and throw the stress on the last syllable. F’gou."

Oh, okay. And what does it do, this f’gou?

Nobody knows, not really. They’re tunnels in the earth. A lot of old Cornish farmsteads have them, and... He paused, and lifted a flushed face to Gideon. And do you mind if I tell you about them at some other time?

Got something else on your mind, have you?

We have to get a cushion for this window seat. My arse is going numb.

And what do you want me to do about that? Gideon waited, listening to Lee’s quickened breath. He loved to hear him state his desires, to use the words Pastor Frayne had forbidden or denied, creating a kind of cold storage in his son’s mind where they remained frozen, potent, ready to melt. Tell me, sweetheart. Please.

Lift me up and fuck me. Put me up against the wall.

Oh, God. Suddenly Gideon’s heavy uniform trousers were unbearable. Heat was flaring through him, stiffening his cock. Lee was so frank and free with his words, and their bold innocence carried a huge erotic charge. One day Gideon would just lie back and let him talk him over the brink – he was pretty sure it could be done...

Not today. He stood tensely while Lee unfastened his belt and zip, let go of him for five reluctant seconds and stripped the trousers off completely. Then he reached down and pushed his hands under the poor chilly arse, Lee assisting with a tight, trusting grip around his neck. God, he loved to do it this way. They both got off on it so hard – the combination of Gideon’s strength and Lee’s lean-muscled agility, the differences between them just enough to strike the biggest sparks. Lee was no lightweight, that was for sure. He grunted in pleasure at being tugged out of gravity’s reach and planted against the wall. Tipped his head back and wrapped his thighs tight round Gideon’s waist. That’s it. Hold me like that. Tell me you’ve got the lube.

In my dressing-gown pocket, on the window sill there... Gideon groaned and laughed at the effort of reaching for it while still propping Lee where he was. He held up the tube for Lee to uncap. Ah, teamwork. I’m meant to learn to delegate, now that I’m a sergeant.

They should put this in your role-play tests.

Mm, yeah. Effectively advise the member of the public to put the damn lube on himself, since the arresting officer can’t reach without dropping him... Oh, that’s it. Lee, I can’t wait.

Don’t have to. I’m ready.

Gideon braced. He cupped Lee’s backside in both hands, spread him just far enough and thrust up and in. Lee twined one ankle round the other behind him, letting out a grinding moan through gritted teeth, digging a heel into the hollow of his spine. Oh, Gid. Christ.

Are you okay? Gideon asked breathlessly. Too much?

No. Never too much. You’re in so deep, though. I...

What?

When will it ever be... less bloody devastating? Do you think we’ll ever... He broke off as Gideon cradled him, kissing the side of his neck. Ever be boring?

In these close quarters, the melting matrix of their shared heat, Gideon didn’t need too many words to get the picture – could borrow Lee’s gift for plucking the whole scene from his head. A tired blow-job in front of the telly? Falling asleep before we come? I don’t know, but...

Does it sound awful?

No. I want those times with you. Gideon rubbed his brow against Lee’s, quelling down the urge to plunge into him – he did want the boredom, the sweet sleepy nights, but they were a long way off yet. He struggled for control. I want... everything. All of you.

Come on and take it, then. Stop holding back. It’s all yours.

***

Gideon tumbled them into the bed. He’d left early that morning and Lee had been busy with his upside-down wallpapering since then: the sheets were still rumpled, a delicious trace of warmth still lingering in the heavyweight quilt. He pulled it over both of them, rolled Lee into a weary, sweaty embrace. One of us should go close those doors, I suppose.

That would mean moving. Or letting you go. Lee rolled him over in his turn, pinned him in the tangle of bedclothes. Not an option.

So, you were telling me... about this fogou.

I was?

Yeah. Tunnel in the earth, nobody knows what it’s for.

Oh, right. Settling his head on Gideon’s shoulder, Lee failed to stifle a huge yawn. Sure you want the archaeology class right now?

Just a bit of it, please.

"Okay. Well, they’re pretty old, Iron Age at the latest. Some of them are

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