Just finished watching the last episode of True Detective. Wow. If you haven’t heard of it, check it out. It’s perhaps not your typical romance-lover’s fare, but if you like cops and if you like Matthew McConaughey in a wife-beater, you might want to give it a go. It’s gritty and disturbing and compelling and beautiful in the way that only a crime drama set in the Louisiana backwater can be.
On the surface, it’s an investigation into a series of sicko murders, but what it’s really about is the development of the relationship between the two cops ; super-smart, super-controlled, super-damaged (super hot in his white tank top) Rust Cohle and regular guy with a regular issues Marty Hart. That’s right. At heart, it’s a bromance.
And I love a good bromance, particularly if one or both of bros are hot tamales and if one or both of the bros are cops. My free erotic short story,Two Hot, is not your typical bromance. More of your M/F/M lovefest, with a little bromance on the side. But it’s got a rough and ready cop, a sweet and sexy personal trainer and a lawyer who’s just a little too sophisticated for her own good, but who learns that when it comes to pleasure, two is definitely better than one.
Here’s a taste.
The three new friends stood, bottles in hand, grinning at each other, each one waiting for someone to take the lead. Roque broke the silence.
“Eh, Julie. I got a question for you.”
Roque put his bottle down on the counter, his expression serious. “You know Clint and me, we’ve been training together at the gym, right?”
“Uh-huh.” Julie nodded, a smile playing over her lips. She wondered where this was going.
“So Clint can bench 170. Me, it’s maybe 190.”
“Try 180,” Clint interjected, dryly.
“Okay. 180, 185,” Roque amended, a mischievous grin lighting his face.
Clint rolled his eyes.
“But my question is this,” Roque continued. “Who ‘as the better pecs.” He crossed his arms in front of his body, and in one swift move, pulled his t-shirt over his head.
Julie’s eyes widened as she took in his smooth, bronze torso. He was thickly muscled, with a clearly defined six-pack and a set of pecs that would make Ryan Gosling sick with envy. She took another drink of her beer, feeling the alcohol warmth buzzing in her veins. Then she turned to look at Clint.
He, too, had his shirt off. His upper body was like a Classical marble statue, pale and perfect, the muscles longer and leaner than Roque’s, but still clearly defined.
Both men stared at her, their eyes daring and their lips curving in inscrutable smiles.
“Wow,” Julie exhaled, with a laugh. “It’s hard to say…”
“Maybe you have to touch,” Roque interrupted, stepping closer. Clint moved in, too, until the two bare-chested Adonises were side by side.
Read it in my short story collection, Submit, available in The Amazon Kindle Store.