THURSDAY 2:09 A.M.

We battled our way through the drifts and gales of wind south down Canal Street to Roosevelt Road then west to Halsted and turned left down to Maxwell Street. It’s a good thing I worked out as much as I did, but even so, another slog through the snow tapped my muscles. He lived in one of the first condo buildings that was not part of the university.

Inside the vestibule, it was an instant joy to be out of the hellish storm. It was a modern building with lots of white-washed concrete blocks.

We walked up the stairs to the second floor. There were four units, two on each side of the stairs. I heard excited scrabbling behind the door he unlocked. A German shepherd puppy jumped and nibbled and licked at his coat, hands, and face. Danny said, “This is Bruno.” The puppy saw me and rushed forward sniffing and licking at my hands. He must have smelled Caesar on me.

I wasn’t worried about my basset hound even with the storm. Georgia referred to Caesar’s dog house as the annex. It was insulated, heated, fitted with food and water when he pressed buttons as he’d been trained, and it provided access for outdoors and back into the main house. My guess was that Caesar was baying at the storm from the sheltered side of the garage or napping on my bed.

Even before taking off his overcoat, Danny fed and watered the dog.

The kitchen, dining, and living rooms were one continuous space. There were two doors down a short hall, one I presumed a bedroom, the other a bathroom.

We hung up our coats in the front closet. We set out gloves and hats to dry on the kitchen counter. The place had IKEA functional furnishings: a white fabric cushion couch, loveseat, ottoman, and armchair, with LED lights strategically placed, plus it had a living room storage system. The kitchen had glass-front cabinets over the sink and along the walls, along with a white table that sat two. The sink had gleaming gray faucets.

On a desk with a laptop was a police scanner. He turned it on and listened for a minute. He said, “I gotta go back in just a few hours.”

“Not a problem.”

He clicked the computer to the local radar. Deep blue filled the screen. Then he called up the local forecast. Eight inches of snow had fallen and at least ten more were expected, and then the lake effect snow would most likely begin which, depending on the exact direction and fierceness of the wind, could add an untold number of more inches. If predictions held, it would be the heaviest snowfall in the city’s history. He offered coffee, hot chocolate, beer, or a mixed drink. I took water from the tap.

He stretched. He’d only turned on one lamp at the end of the couch. The monitor showed a screen capture from Steve Grand’s video of his song “All American Boy.” It was a still of the two guys kissing in the lake. I didn’t need a complex set of gaydar to figure out he was most likely gay.

It was after two in the morning. I sprawled at one end of the loveseat. He locked his gun away and removed all his police gear placing the handcuffs, flashlight, and other paraphernalia in an orderly pattern on a table near the front door. Taking off his bullet proof vest confirmed my observation about how slender and muscular he was, maybe a thirty inch waist with those broad shoulders. He joined me on the love seat.

Bruno jumped up and settled between us.

“We’ve got a bit of a sheltered space out back in the alley for pets. I’ll take him out in a few minutes.”

I ran gentle fingers through the dog’s coarse black and brown fur. Danny placed a tentative hand on my arm. I didn’t move away. His fingers caressed my arm through my flannel shirt.

“Why didn’t your client stay with the accident and get treated there?”

“He wasn’t bleeding and nothing was broken. I think he might have been confused. He may have a concussion.”

“You didn’t take him to a hospital?”

“He’s safe for the night.”

I went with him to take the dog out. We were strangers, really, and I didn’t want to force him to make a decision about leaving me alone in his home while he attended to the dog’s needs. At the back door, Bruno rushed out but stopped after only a few steps. He snuffled at the snow, bounced his front paws up and down in the first drift outside the door, shook his head, and turned to go back in.

Danny blocked the way. “Do your business!” he commanded.

Bruno dutifully turned to the nearest, most sheltered corner, lifted his leg then scampered between us and flew up the stairs.

Standing inside the back door, we turned to each other. We may have both been tired, but the passion of his kisses matched the eagerness in mine. Feeling the stubble on his face with my fingertips and nibbling at his neck and ears was a great start. As we kissed, he ran his hands up my leg and then massaged the front of my flannel-lined jeans. I opened my legs wider to give him full access.

Bruno scampered around our ankles. His nudging and poking were a distraction.

When we got into the bedroom, he left Bruno on the other side of the door. The dog snuffled and whined for a few minutes.

“He’ll be fine,” Danny said.

I took the rest of his clothes off. I massaged his stiff, hooded dick. He sank to his knees and took me in his mouth. Slow, wet, and sloppy with plenty of time spent on my balls. He eased me down onto the bed and lifted my legs apart. His tongue did an expert job swirling around then massaging, then poking into my asshole. Sometime later, I eased a condom on and sank into him. He sighed then whimpered, “Yes.”