We sat there sipping coffee and chowing down on donuts in an all-night diner, my new partner Hank and me. I was trying to figure him out. Ever since I’d come out in the department, potential partners had avoided me like the plague. But here I understood that Hank had asked to be partnered with me. As I drank coffee and listened to him complaining about his wife, Janine, I was wondering if maybe he swung both ways. I certainly wouldn’t mind if he did. He was a good ten years older than I was and outweighed me by at least twenty pounds, but he was all muscle and handsome as all get out. Dark complexioned and black curly hair matting his forearms and pushing out at the neck of his blue uniform shirt. Pale blue eyes and a smile to die for.

The open neck of his blue uniform shirt. There it was. I thought to myself, "Shit. Nailed it with that swinging both ways supposition."

"Does this mean what I think it means?" I asked, as I moved my hand to under his chin and got the round medallion on a sterling string between two fingers. It was red, white, and black enamel on silver in a design like that Oriental Yin-Yang swirling tear drop pattern, but with three swirls rather than two—the universal sign of BDSM.

"Yeah, that’s exactly what it means," Hank said, staring me down real good. He moved his hand to behind his collar and pulled around another silver charm he’d been keeping at that back of his chain. It was a miniature set of handcuffs. When he brought it back around to where I could see it, his fingers lingered on mine at the other medallion.

"Do you mind?" He asked. "What I really mean is are you interested? I maneuvered like hell to get a partnership with you. I’ve had my eye on you since you were transferred to the squad."

"Fuck yes, I’m interested," I whispered hoarsely to him under the din of the noise of the civilians around us who either couldn’t sleep or were on their way to an early shift or back from a late shift. I raised my foot and forced it between his thighs under the table, crushing the sole of my boot into his crotch to emphasize my interest. He gave me a surprised, but desired-filled look, gripped the edges of the table with white-knuckled fists, and squeezed my calf tightly between his thighs to confirm his own interest.

"But what about Janine?" I continued nonchalantly. "I’d heard you were happily married and an attentive daddy." I dropped my hand from his medallion, not wanting those around us to get the right idea about what we were discussing.

"Yeah, I am," he answered. "I can’t explain it, but I’ve got these urges that go beyond Janine and the family thing. It was getting a little tedious with Janine. Being with a guy now and then heightens the pleasure for both me and Janine when we fuck."

"But bondage and SM?" I asked. "That’s quite a bit farther along that road. And it can get rough."

"I like it rough," Hank shot back. "And the bondage? Well, I think that helps take the guilt away. If I’m bound, it’s like I really am not making the choice, if you know what I mean—restrained but suddenly free to fully enjoy it."

I sat and stared at Hank for a couple of minutes, grabbing the edge of the