Текст книги "Winter Kill "

Автор книги: Josh lanyon

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

Chapter Nine

They’d been running on caffeine and adrenaline all day, so it wasn’t any wonder Adam was quiet on the drive from Nearby. Hopefully that’s all it was. Hopefully he wasn’t regretting his decision to spend the night?

Rob had mostly been on the level. He wasn’t going to try to seduce Adam—although he did make a mean chicken parmesan, and if things moved in that direction, he sure as hell wasn’t going to object.

He had been attracted to Adam from the first. That was sexual chemistry. Now he was starting to like Adam, wanting to know more—everything—about Adam. That was something different, something dangerous. Rob wasn’t backing away.

When they rounded the bend and the house came into view, Adam drew in a long breath. “You’re on the take,” he said, and Rob laughed.

It was an amazing house. Maybe not that amazing, but on a sheriff’s deputy salary, yeah. Pretty fantastic. A 2900 square foot mountain resort of a home surrounded by tall mountains and deep forest. Giant picture windows and long rustic decks looked over the panoramic view. And it had come completely furnished. The previous owners had used it primarily as a vacation rental.

“When the real estate market crashed, a lot of people were selling their second homes and vacation properties for whatever they could get,” Rob said. “I lucked out.”

“I would say so.”

The garage had been built into the hillside beneath the house. Rob hit the remote, the interior light flared on, and the door swung slowly open. They zipped inside the cavernous space.

They exited the SUV and went up the stairs, and Rob unlocked the door to the mudroom. They took off their boots and coats, Adam wincing as he shrugged off his blue FBI jacket.

“You okay?” Rob asked.

“I should have picked up a change of clothes at the campground,” Adam admitted. “I think I may have fallen into a pile of bear shit.”

Rob smiled. “Then that bear was wearing some nice cologne. Anyway, you can borrow a pair of jeans, and I’ll throw your stuff in the laundry.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“The kitchen is through here.” Rob led the way.

“Nice,” Adam murmured. And it was. The kitchen featured white granite counter tops, recessed lighting, dark hardwood floors, and an open view onto the other rooms.

“This is… I think my apartment would fit inside your kitchen,” Adam said. “You live here on your own?”

“Just me and seven dwarfs.”

Adam laughed.

“You must make a pretty good salary though,” Rob said.

“I do,” Adam admitted. “I’m never home. That’s the real problem. Not that it’s a problem.” He walked down the long open floor plan of kitchen and dining area to the living room with its towering ceilings, open beams, and gleaming floors.

“Now that is a fire place.”

“Quartz and field stone.”

Adam nodded at the empty gun case. “Not a hunter I take it?”

“Just with a camera.” Rob nodded to the row of framed photographs along the paneled wall.

Adam wandered over to examine the photo gallery, and Rob felt an unfamiliar stab of insecurity. Even in his socks and torn jeans, Adam had a certain air. Austerity? Authority?

Adam said thoughtfully, “I was about to say this is more like a luxury resort than a home. You don’t feel cut off here?”

“I don’t miss Portland. Even if I did, it’s only a few hours away. I’ve got friends in Klamath Falls, so sometimes I spend the weekend there. Then there’s the airport in Medford.” Rob shrugged. “I like the peace and quiet. I don’t mind my own company.”

Adam peered more closely at a study of Blue Rock Cove. “These are all yours?”

“Yep.”

Adam threw him a quick, surprised look. “They’re really good. I mean, I’m not an expert, but I think anyone would say these were professional quality.”

“Thanks. It’s not easy making a living as a photographer though. Unless you want to spend your weekends taking wedding pictures.”

“And you like spending your weekends hiking in the mountains.”

“Oh, I like doing other things too,” Rob said with a deliberately wicked grin.

Adam smiled too. Rob thought he looked maybe just a bit unsure. Uneasy? He looked back at the nickel-framed portraits and said, “Black and white.”

“It’s my Ansel Adams phase.”

Adam made a sound of acknowledgement.

Rob suspected things were about to get awkward and he said, “Let me show you the bathroom.”

He led the way upstairs and through his bedroom. The master bedroom was another oversized room, painted in neutral earth tones. There was crown molding around the large picture windows, and drapes in a shade of red Rob would never have chosen, but didn’t want to spend money to replace. Happily, he’d made the bed that morning and had not left underwear lying on the floor.

Adam was silent, and Rob guessed what he was probably thinking. “There’s a shower in the guest bathroom, but the only tub is up here, and I’m guessing after that tumble you’d like to soak in hot water for a while.”

He pushed open the door and enjoyed Adam’s expression. The bathroom was ridiculously spa-like, with oversized heated tiles, wood accents, a giant glass shower big enough for the entire Nearby sheriff’s office, a deep sunken soaker tub next to huge picture windows, and Jack and Jill sinks. The whole shebang.

“That’s…” Adam shook his head.

“I know. Crazy. I’ll leave you to it. You can drop your clothes by the door. I’ll be back with a drink. Gin and tonic okay?”

He didn’t think Adam heard him. Rob backed, closed the door, and went downstairs to make a very strong gin and tonic. When he returned, he tapped politely on the door and opened it.

“You want company in there?”

Adam was just stepping into the tub. He glanced over his shoulder, blushed. “Er…”

He was very nicely hung. No question. A clean-cut straight arrow of a cock jutting from a soft, golden bush. Perfect plum-sized balls nestled beneath. Gorgeous. Rob stopped smiling, stopped admiring, unable to look beyond the ugly black and blue bruises splotching Adam’s torso and ass. “What the—why the hell didn’t you say something?”

“About—?” Adam glanced down at himself. “Oh.” He grimaced. “It’s just bruising. Nothing life threatening.”

“Bruises? You’ve got contusions.”

“I guess. I didn’t even feel them until now. I could do with that drink though.” He sat cautiously down in the hot water and leaned back, wincing. “God. That is…” He smiled up at Rob.

Rob’s heart did an unexpected flip. In fact, it was probably closer to a cartwheel. Something about that unguarded, pointy smile and the way Adam’s green eyes crinkled at the corners. Or maybe it had to do with the width of his shoulders and the length of his neck. Then again, perhaps it was something about Adam sitting uncomplaining for how many hours of briefing and debate after falling off a fucking mountain?

Whatever the hell it was, Rob was sold.

“Here.” He thrust the drink at Adam, and Adam took the glass and drained half of it in a gulp.

“Uh…”

Adam blinked. “You make them strong.”

“I was going to say. But I figure if you’re drinking, have a real drink.” The words were spilling from his mouth. Rob had no idea what he was saying. He was still dealing with this unexpected development in his feelings for Special Agent Darling. Adam.

No. Not a good development.

“I’m not objecting.” Adam tipped the glass in Rob’s direction in a salute and took another long swallow. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He had a good profile. Probably too sharp, too sculptured to fit most people’s ideas of masculine good looks, but Rob thought he was, well, beautiful.

Adam’s eyes opened. His mouth curved. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to slip under and drown.”

Rob chuckled, though that casually flung image felt like a punch in the chest. “You’ll miss a nice meal if you do. You have your soak and I’ll start dinner.”

“You don’t have to go to a lot of trouble.” Adam closed his eyes again.

“No trouble.” Rob picked up Adam’s clothes and backed out of the steamy room.

What kind of fool spent his entire life playing the field, and then fell for a guy passing through town? The one guy he couldn’t have, that was the guy he wanted?

That wasn’t only foolish. It was crazy.

Rob tossed Adam’s clothes in the washer. He pulled out chicken breasts and shoved them in the microwave to defrost. Peeled the veggies, dumped them in a pan with olive oil and sea salt.

He poured himself a second drink.

A complete emotional dead end. That’s what he was headed for. Oh, he could probably get Adam into bed again. He would sure try. He could tell Adam was still attracted, still interested. He didn’t want to be. But you always knew. Now sex wasn’t going to be enough. For Rob.

His mouth went dry at the idea of taking Adam. Pushing his cock in Adam’s trim, tight ass and hearing Adam moan with pleasure. Moan and groan and beg him for more.

Maybe tonight.

Or having Adam inside him again. His legs felt weak at the memory.

Yes. Either. Both. Yes. Sex would be…fantastic. And frequent.

But it was only the starting point. Now, for the first time in his life, he was thinking of, longing for all that might—should—come after. Companionship. Caring.

He set his drink down and dug the first aid kit from under the sink in the mudroom. All those cuts and bruises. Brief as his glimpse of Adam’s injuries had been, he’d experienced them viscerally, as though Adam’s pain was his own.

How could that be? He barely knew Adam. Yet somehow it felt like he had known him all his life.

And speaking of Adam, he’d been soaking for about twenty minutes now. Rob jogged upstairs, listened briefly at the bathroom door. Water was running, so Adam was still conscious and alive.

He went back to his dresser and pulled out a clean pair of shorts, jeans, T-shirt, flannel shirt. Green plaid flannel because Adam would look good in that. He liked the idea of seeing Adam wearing his clothes.

Jesus. Christ. Pull yourself together. You do not want to do this.

As he passed his dresser, he caught a glimpse in the mirror, and he looked wild-eyed and alarmed. And speaking of needing a shower…

He tapped on the bathroom door and Adam called immediately, “Yes?”

Rob couldn’t help it. He opened the door, set the bundle of clothes on the long granite counter. “You want another drink?”

Adam’s face was flushed from the steam and his hair was wet and curling in spikes. “Er…sure,” he said. And then, “Yes, why not?”

He held his glass toward Rob, but Rob knew if he walked over there he was going to kneel down and kiss Adam, and even if Adam let him, it was liable to guarantee Adam sleeping in the guest room. So he said, “Leave it. I’ll bring a clean glass. Nothing’s too good for you.”

He said it in a joking tone and Adam laughed. The fact was, Rob meant it.

He went downstairs, got Adam another drink, delivered it with only a minimum of scoping Adam out. Adam’s nipples were rose-brown, all his body hair pale gold, and he had a surprisingly heavy five o’clock shadow. Well, eight thirty o’clock shadow.

He closed the door firmly, stripped off his own filthy clothes, dropped them in the closet hamper, dug out clean jeans and a shirt he knew he looked hot in.

At least according to his pal in Klamath Falls. Shane. Shane was a nice guy and the sex was great, but Rob had never felt a fraction of what he felt for Adam. He had known from the first that he never would, and maybe in a way that had been part of the attraction.

Which made his reaction to Adam all the more disturbing.

He showered downstairs in the guest bath, and then got back to fixing dinner.

He was just putting the chicken in the oven when he heard Adam coming downstairs, and his heart sped up.

“That was great,” Adam said. “Thank you. I feel one hundred percent better.”

Rob glanced around, gulped at the vision of Adam in his green plaid shirt—Adam’s eyes were gorgeous—and said, “Have a seat. Dinner will be ready in about forty-five minutes.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Nope. Under control,” said Rob.

Adam walked over to the counter, studying the array of bowls and dishes. “Are you sure this isn’t too much trouble?”

“Nah. We have to eat, right? Did you want another drink?”

Adam laughed self-consciously. “Better not. You definitely make ’em strong. I’m actually feeling buzzed.”

“That’s from not eating all day.”

“Probably.”

Well, hell, they could probably keep up the polite conversation for the rest of the evening.

Please pass the salt.

With pleasure.

Thank you.

You’re very welcome.

Given how little time they had—Rob had—he decided to drive right over the No Trespassing sign.

“What was Zeke talking about earlier? That kidnapping case where the victim died.”

Adam was still smiling—wryly—but the easy relaxation was gone from his face. “The one I fucked up royally?”

“Don’t take anything Zeke says to heart. No one else does.”

“Zeke isn’t alone in his assessment.”

He could tell when Adam was on guard or wary because he started to slip into FBI-speak. Like he was narrating a documentary.

“What happened?”

Adam looked down at the granite counter, then flicked Rob a funny, almost uncertain look. “Bridget Conway was the seventeen-year-old daughter of a wealthy Bakersfield rancher. She was taken on her way to school one morning, and the Bureau was brought in. I was the Special Agent in Charge. The kidnappers demanded one million dollars for her release. That was a figure easily accessible to Tom Conway, so he was able to put the ransom delivery together very quickly.”

“But the kidnappers didn’t release Bridget?”

Adam sighed. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. What we didn’t understand was Bridget was complicit in her own abduction. In fact, there’s a strong possibility the original idea was hers. She was seeing a young man her family didn’t approve of—partly because he was too old for her, and partly because Paul Douglas had a juvenile criminal record.”

“Girls go for that bad boy shit,” Rob said.

“Do they? Well, I guess some girls do. I guess Bridget did. Anyway, Bridget and Douglas cooked up this scheme to get money from her father so they could run away together. But they needed help to pull it off, and so Douglas brought in a friend by the name of Gary Black. Black was a moronic thug. That’s really beside the point. All of this is beside the point. I’m just giving you the background.”

“Go on,” Rob said.

“The kidnappers gave orders that the police were not to be brought in.”

“Of course.”

“But Conway phoned the Bureau first thing and we—I—” Adam stopped. “I’ll give you the abridged version. When the time came to make the ransom drop, I insisted that we use tracking devices on Conway’s car.”

“That would be the smart thing to do.”

Adam’s smile was distracted. “Thanks, Rob. Unfortunately the tracking equipment shorted the electrical system on Conway’s car. The alternator failed, the car died, and Conway was stuck on the highway in the middle of the night with no way to contact the kidnappers. He missed the drop completely.”

“Hell.”

“Finally the kidnappers called Conway on his cell. Conway explained the situation. He said he had the money, he still wanted to make the exchange, and they should come and pick up the ransom. And so they did.”

Rob was watching Adam’s face. “Conway was on his own?”

“No. He was supposed to be, but no. I insisted on hiding in the backseat.”

“So far I don’t see you making choices anyone else wouldn’t have made.”

“The kidnapper arrived on a motorcycle to pick up the money. Things weren’t going according to plan, so he was already rattled. And then Tom recognized him as Paul Douglas—”

Rob knew what was coming. Which was probably pretty much how Adam had felt in those final seconds as it all played out on that lonely stretch of highway.

“Douglas panicked and tried to shoot Tom. I shot Douglas. When Douglas didn’t return with the money, Black also panicked, executed Bridget, and tried to flee the state.”

“Jesus.”

“He’s about the only person who wasn’t on the road that night.” Adam sighed. “Maybe I will have another drink.”

“That is one horrible story,” Rob said. “But I don’t see how you’re to blame for anything that happened.”

“Yes, well, what it boils down to is Conway, like a lot of parents, would rather have died than lose his daughter. He argued against the tracking system, and he argued against my being in the backseat of the car. We-I-overruled him. And I ended up being wrong.”

“Not from most people’s standpoint.”

“From the Conway family’s standpoint. And probably from Bridget’s standpoint. I promised them that I would get Bridget safely back. I promised them that if they did it my way, she’d be home safe and sound.”

“You don’t think maybe Bridget and her boyfriend were a little bit to blame for what happened?”

“Bridget was a kid, and regardless of her role in the kidnapping, it was my responsibility to get her home safely. I failed to do that. And part of why I failed was it wasn’t enough for me that we get Bridget back. I wanted to catch her kidnappers. I wanted the credit. I wanted another gold star. That’s the truth.”

“Gold star?”

Adam made a face. “Another letter of commendation.”

The timer went off. It was a relief to get away from the pain on Adam’s face. Rob turned to the stove, poured marinara sauce over the chicken, sprinkled with cheese, and shoved it back in the oven.

He said, “I think I understand now why you believe Tiffany could be involved in her mother’s murder.”

“I did think there was a strong possibility at first. Despite the fact that Joseph was stripped, there didn’t seem to be a sexual element to her murder. Azure’s death doesn’t fit.”

“Unless Tiffany’s a serial killer.”

“That’s really hard to believe,” Adam said. “There are teenage serial killers. Not many, and they’re mostly male.”

“But you do believe Frankie’s right? We’ve got a serial killer on our hands? Just not Tiffany.”

“It’s too soon to say. We don’t know that Azure was killed by the same offender. It doesn’t seem like the same weapon was used.”

“Now there you’re thinking like a city boy,” Rob said. “I think it’s likely Cynthia’s killer took that knife home, cleaned, polished, and sharpened it. He didn’t take it for a souvenir, that much I’ll guarantee.”

Adam looked startled. “That’s a good point. I was thinking he’d regard the knife as a relic, a sacred object, but it could be both a weapon and a sacred object.”

“Nobody around here would leave a perfectly good knife rusted and useless.”

“You’re probably right about that.”

“It’s still hard to believe we’ve got a serial killer running around Nearby.” Or maybe he just didn’t want to believe it. Rob wasn’t sure.

Adam said, “Serial killers are not the exclusive property of big cities.”

“If Tiffany is not involved, where is she? Do you think she’s dead?” He hated to think so. She was a good little citizen. Kind of a smartass, but kind-hearted and helpful. If she’d been killed, he hoped it had been quick, that—like her mother—she’d never known what hit her.

Adam said wearily, “If she’s dead, I don’t know why we don’t have a body. There was no attempt to hide Joseph or Azure. Why conceal Tiffany?”

“I don’t know either,” Rob said. “I think we should forget about it for now. Let’s just have a quiet evening. A nice meal, a couple of drinks, a good sleep.”

Adam smiled with what looked like genuine relief. “That sounds like a great idea to me.”

For the next half hour they chatted about basically nothing. Rob asked Adam if he liked to ski. Adam did not. He asked Rob if he liked to sail. Rob did not. “But we get a lot of people here with sailboats during the summer,” he suggested.

“I used to have a boat,” Adam said. “I wouldn’t have time to go sailing now days anyway.”

“Everybody needs time off,” Rob said.

Adam frowned like this was an alien concept.

They moved on to movies and books. It turned out that neither of them watched much TV or had a lot of time to read fiction. “I think the last film I saw was a James Bond movie,” Adam admitted.

“I like Disney musicals,” Rob said. “Especially the ones with princesses. Little Mermaid? Pocahontas? That one’s great.”

Adam gave him a funny look and he grinned. “Just kidding.”

“You are quite the kidder.”

“I can be serious too,” Rob said.

Adam met his eyes and then looked away.

So it was that kind of conversation. The kind of conversation you made on a first date, except this was not a date.

Rob served the chicken over pasta. They ate in front of the fireplace, sitting at opposite ends of the long, leather sofa. Rob talked Adam into having another drink. He thought it was a good sign that he didn’t have to try too hard. Adam was fairly relaxed by then, or as relaxed as he probably ever got.

“That was great.” Adam set his plate aside and gave a deep, appreciative sigh. “Thank you very much.”

Rob shook his head. “I’m a passable cook. You just don’t get many home-cooked meals.”

“True.” Adam’s gaze turned speculative. “Is it difficult being a gay man in a small town?”

“In some ways, sure. I don’t bring a lot of guys home to dinner. Let me put it that way.”

“With a hundred thousand visitors a year, you must not lack for company.”

“No, I’ve never lacked for company,” Rob said. “That doesn’t mean I’m not choosey about who I spend time with.”

“No. I’m not implying anything.”

“Imply away.” Rob gave him a hard, bright smile. “I never felt any need or desire to settle down.”

“Sure. Settling down is not for everyone.”

“Not because I wouldn’t like to. I just never met the right guy.”

“Sometimes that’s true too.”

“What about you? You said you got involved with a coworker and it ended badly?”

“I feel like I’ve been doing all the talking.” Adam smiled. It was a you’re-in-my-space smile. “I’m interested in you. What made you join the sheriff’s office?”

Rob pushed his plate away and moved closer to Adam, closing some of that leather-cushioned distance. Adam tilted his head, acknowledging Rob’s approach. His mouth quirked.

Rob said, “I don’t know. I needed a job. Do you think people get asked why they wanted to become an accountant or a pilot?”

“Nobody wants to kill you for being an accountant. Except maybe at tax time. If you go into law enforcement there are people who want you dead just because you’re LE. So it’s natural to wonder why someone might choose that path.”

“Why did you join the FBI?”

“My father was in the FBI.” Adam hesitated. “I admired my dad a lot when I was growing up. I guess I wanted to be just like him.”

Rob said cautiously, “Is your dad still around?” He liked the way Adam’s face looked in the firelight. His hair seemed gilded, his eyes shone, the silver bracelet glinted. Rob found that bracelet encouraging. It was simple and discreet but it seemed to hint at a whole other Adam. An Adam who might not object if Rob leaned forward and kissed him.

“He is. I see even less of him now than when he was with the Bureau.” Adam’s mouth quirked derisively. “I like my job and I’m good at it. I don’t have any regrets. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”

Rob stretched his arm along the back of the leather couch and Adam smiled at him. “Would you like another drink?” Rob asked.

Adam moved his head in negation. “If I have another drink, you’ll have to carry me to bed.”

“I’ll carry you to bed.”

Adam laughed.

Rob’s hand closed on Adam’s shoulder, and he drew him closer. “Come here,” Rob whispered.

He saw something flash through Adam’s eyes. Doubt? Hesitation. Adam tilted his face and their lips brushed. Tentative. Sweet. A much more cautious kiss than Rob was used to. Shy? Something melted in his chest and he kissed Adam again, very gently, as though Adam were a nervous young girl he needed to woo and win.

Adam tasted like alcohol, and he smelled like Rob’s shampoo and Rob’s soap, which should not have been erotic, but somehow was. His mouth curved beneath Rob’s, his lips unexpectedly soft. He liked this approach, he liked being kissed. Rob kissed him again, still gentle, still courting. They breathed together in easy harmony. Rob could feel Adam’s heart pounding against his own and Adam’s eyelashes flickering against his eyes.

Rob liked kissing—he had wanted to kiss Adam the first night, and had not missed the fact that Adam did not want to be kissed—this was even better than he had imagined. He used every bit of skill and delicacy he had, and he felt the moment Adam stopped thinking and simply surrendered.

Adam’s hand landed lightly on the base of Rob’s skull, and he applied a little pressure of his own. More…

Rob gave him more kisses, hotter, harder, wet kisses. Adam kissed him back openly hungry and feverish. He slid down onto his back, pulling Rob with him. And there they were, having a good old-fashioned necking session right there on Rob’s oversized couch in his under-furnished living room.

All Rob’s good intentions flew out the window.

“Jesus, I want you so much.”

Adam tore his mouth away and gasped, “What about the guest room?”

“We can do it in the guest room if you want.”

Adam’s laugh was breathless, his free hand fumbled with Rob’s zipper. “No, if we’re going to do it, let’s do it.”

That sounded like there was a chance he was going to change his mind, and Rob wasted no time tearing his clothes off—just about literally—and then remembered protection. Was startled that he’d nearly forgotten. When was the last time that had happened?

“Time out.”

Adam raised his head. “What the—?”

Rob pounded out of the room, up the stairs, down the hall, and into his bedroom. He rifled through the bedroom drawer and raced back downstairs. As he sprinted through the open floor plan he saw Adam sitting up on the sofa looking beautifully naked, with the expression of someone who has missed his bus.

Rob pounded his chest and gave a Tarzan yell as he sprang for the sofa.

Adam’s jaw dropped. He raised an instinctive, defensive leg, and that was almost the end of the evening’s proceedings.

“AAAHHHH AH AH AH aa owww!” Rob landed half on top of Adam who had watched his advance with astonished disbelief.

Adam offered a strangled, “Uhhhh…”

“OW,” Rob repeated. He lifted off, studying the footprint in his chest. “That hurt.”

“You’re crazy.” Adam still looked amazed, but he was starting to laugh. “You’re the craziest guy I ever met. That I didn’t have to arrest.”

“Your feet are deadly weapons.”

“You’re just lucky that kick didn’t land where it nearly did.” Adam was still amused. He sat up, swinging his legs off the sofa.

Rob watched him with dismay. “Where are you going?”

Adam’s smile twisted. He said apologetically, “I think maybe the guest room might be a good idea.”

Rob caught his hand and kissed it. “Hey. Don’t do that.” He kissed the back of Adam’s hand again, and felt the tiniest tremor of Adam’s fingers. “You don’t want to do that.” He nuzzled Adam’s wrist, feeling the hammering pulse point.

Adam swallowed. His eyelashes flickered. Fluttered? Whatever, it was disarming as hell. “It’s not a matter of want to, but I do think—”

“Stop thinking,” Rob told him. He kissed the sensitive skin of Adam’s inner elbow, gave him a tug, and Adam sat down beside him on the cushions as though his legs had given out.

“We’ve got an early day tomorrow,” Adam said faintly.

Rob kissed his shoulder. Adam’s breathing sounded funny. Rob kissed the curve of his neck, nuzzled him beneath his ear. Adam made a soft sound, very close to the moan of Rob’s imagination.

Rob said, “Adam, listen, you can still spend the night in the guest room. But that’s not what I want, and it’s not what you want, and why shouldn’t we have what we want?”

Adam was watching him sideways, still breathing those light, shallow inhales and exhales.

Rob kissed him moistly under his jaw, kissed him at the corner of his very firm mouth, which quivered.

“Up to you,” Rob said. “You decide.”

Adam turned and his mouth covered Rob’s.