by Jaime Reese
He closed his eyes and sighed at the feel of Ben’s bare skin pressed against him. The warmth, the scent of him, the lean muscles holding him tightly.
This was what had been missing for the last two days.
Burying his nose at the crook of Ben’s neck, he took a deep breath. He splayed his hand across Ben’s back as his other arm tightened around Ben’s waist. He pulled him closer, tighter. He inched back at the sound of a whimper.
“Too tight?” he asked, refusing to add too much space between them but surrendering enough for Ben to read his lips.
Ben shook his head and reached over to the nightstand, retrieving the tube of lube and pushing it into Bull’s chest. He didn’t need coaxing or the teasing thrust of Ben’s tongue into his mouth to convince him. He quickly prepared Ben’s body, reveling in the way Ben writhed in his arms, urging him to hurry.
After a few minutes of torturous prep, Bull finally pushed inside Ben. Shared gasps and moans filled the room until he was buried deep inside. He held still, holding Ben close, staring into those green eyes.
They both reached out, almost in unison, tracing each other’s jawlines and sliding their fingertips down each other’s necks.
Bull crushed their lips together, pouring every ounce of emotion into the kiss as his hips thrust forward, slow and deep into Ben’s welcoming heat. Blunt nails dug into his back and scraped his scalp, spurring his hips to quicken. They moved as one, pushing and pulling, giving and taking until they came together, yelling their releases.
Minutes later, still holding each other, Bull pressed a kiss to Ben’s temple. Sticky and messy and not caring about it, they lay on their sides, staring at each other. “I love you,” he signed, mesmerized by the satisfied smile on Ben’s face and the mirth in his eyes.
“I know,” Ben signed in response. “Now kiss me again.”
Bull slammed their mouths together in a heated kiss, a sudden spike of renewed desire taking hold of his body with Ben’s demand.
Demand or request, he didn’t care. Either way, he would never deny his Ben.
Ben mixed the icing, humming as he worked. A sweet ache reminded him of how he had spent his day with Gabriel. Bless Natalie for the short notice and letting him take the day off. He was paying for it now with the early start and the long night ahead, but their daylong date had been so worth it.
The timer flashed in his vision’s periphery, alerting him to pull the tray from the oven. Finally, the last of the cakes he needed to bake tonight for the weekend orders were ready. He glanced up at the wall clock. A few hours from now, he would have everything finished up. It would be late, but since Gabriel had a conference call scheduled with Anthony to discuss the first phase of some new security plan, it was likely Ben wasn’t the only one pulling an all-nighter.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he recalled Gabriel’s reaction to his voiced declaration. Ben didn’t know how his voice compared to others, but Gabriel made him feel as if the sound was sheer perfection. Had he gotten that kind of a response from the kids in school, he likely would have ended up being a chatterbox.
Or not.
He shrugged to himself as he scooped the icing into the pastry bag. He still remembered the kids from school and how they laughed when he had spoken. Some tried hiding their reaction by covering their mouths while others just laughed in his face. The pain from those bullies ran deep. It had taken years, but finally voicing a few words every now and then to Gabriel was a feat.
He tightened his lips, holding back a smile, thinking about the big softie waiting at home. A few words always turned on the waterworks, even when Gabriel tried fighting it. He was strong yet vulnerable, protective as hell while still allowing Ben to be true to himself. Ben loved his Bull. He teased, but the stuffed toy couldn’t compare to the warmth and safety he felt nestled in those big, thick arms.
Glancing up at the wall clock, he finally let the smile break free. He would be back home soon. And he couldn’t wait.
= ♥ =
Ben’s fingers grazed his skin, tracing a line down his chest. He moaned as kisses pressed against his neck. One, two…then a lick. He hissed a breath when teeth grazed his shoulder…
Bull opened his eyes. Frowning, he glanced around the empty living room, then down at the tablet resting on his chest and the stylus held between his fingers.
He had definitely been dreaming.
He threw his head back on the cushion with a deep sigh. He held up his hand and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he glanced at his wristwatch.
Almost ten thirty.
Ben had texted him progress updates. He should be getting home at any moment.
As if on cue, the beep of the front door’s electric lock sounded. Ben. With a smile tugging at his lips, Bull sat up on the couch and slid the stylus in the tablet’s sleeve before turning to set the case on the coffee table.
He stilled.
The hairs at the back of his neck prickled.
The moment he turned, his blood chilled.
“Hello, Bull.”
His gaze bounced between the two masked men standing alongside the man who had spoken, and the barrel of the gun aimed at Bull’s face. Masked men with handguns in his living room. He definitely wasn’t dreaming anymore.
Judging by the bulge under their shirts, they likely had at least one more gun tucked away. Their stances were steady and disciplined. Likely from some time in service. Overpowering these guys wouldn’t be easy.
Bull scowled as a thought raced through his sleepy brain. He glanced toward the entryway and back at the men in his living room, wondering how they had gained access.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” the man in the middle said. His voice was muffled by the mask, but it was still enough to trigger Bull’s brain to scan his mental database of voices for a match.
Nothing pinged familiar.
“Can’t say the feeling’s mutual,” Bull said.
“Of course it is. You’ve been searching for me for a while.” A ghost of a grin thinned the man’s lips. “I’m your breach.”
Bull returned the stare with equal intensity.
“You sped up my timeline. I would have preferred toying with you a bit longer, but your new security plan would have locked me out.” There was something brewing in the man’s dark eyes. “Stand,” the man pushed the word through gritted teeth.
Bull’s heart thrashed and whipped in his chest. Unarmed and unprepared definitely wasn’t the ideal state to be in. Especially not when Ben was due home at any moment.
The man motioned with his gun, urging him to move.
Bull stood, keeping his movements controlled to avoid a trigger-happy prick from shooting him before he had a chance to spare Ben from this.
“Why breach Davenport?” Bull asked.
“A means to an end. I needed access.”
The voice still didn’t ring familiar in his mind. The breach could be traced back for several months, but something about the man’s control conveyed a rage that seemed to have simmered far longer.
“How long have you been waiting?” Bull asked as he circled the couch, stopping where the gunman gestured for him to remain—standing behind the back of the couch where nothing obstructed their view of him.
“Thirteen years and two months. Since you killed my father.”
Bull’s memory was sharp and crisp—every mission, every target, all cataloged in his mind. Especially that pain-filled scream he had heard thirteen years and two months ago that had haunted him far too long for him to ever forget.
His last mission.
Their target had been a man who had destroyed several governments, turned people and countries against each other. He blew up planes, ships, buildings, and villages. Took thousands of lives and ripped apart just as many families. The man had been elusive for years and it had taken three different missions and two separate teams, but they had finally found him and ended his reign of fury.
The background intel o
n the mission had revealed the man had a wife and teenage son. Little was known about them that day. And even though Bull hadn’t seen them when their team had stormed the compound, he had suspected the woman’s scream was likely the target’s wife when she had found her husband’s body.
The man standing before him now was no longer a teenager. This was a strong and angry man who couldn’t wait to unleash his rage in the name of vengeance.
Bull slid his hands behind his back. There was a very slim chance he would get out of this alive and he needed to drop a breadcrumb if that were going to be a possibility.
“Hands where I can see them.”
There was over a decade of revenge brewing in that man’s gaze. Bull didn’t need to excel at reading people to clearly see an eye for an eye was the only accounting that would make sense in the man’s mind. While Bull had berated himself for years, telling himself he followed orders on that day, in the back of his mind, he couldn’t forget the sound of the woman’s scream, especially knowing he had played a role in her pain.
That day, he had been a part of the team that killed a dangerous terrorist on the world’s watchlist. And even though the man had taken countless souls in the name of his cause, the man standing before him had lost a father who had likely been his hero.
It was a twisted world they lived in and Bull would accept death if that were his fate.
But he wouldn’t chance sacrificing Ben.
He straightened, standing just as tall and as firm as the man holding the gun at his face—close, but still too far away to overpower. “That’s a long time to wait. I’d expect you’d want to take me somewhere special.”
“Take him,” the man said to his henchmen while keeping his gaze firmly on Bull.
The man to his right chuckled. “I’m not going anywhere near that fucker. I’ve already been on the receiving end of his shit.” The henchman drew his gun from his holster and shot two darts into Bull’s neck.
Bull instantly swayed on his feet and reached up, pulling out the darts.
“What the…”
He wasn’t sure if he was cursing at the darts, their quick effect on him, or the man’s words before he had shot him.
“Had to make sure it was potent enough to take down a bull.” The man chuckled at his own pun as he tucked the tranquilizer gun in the holster. He weaved his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. He then curled his hands into fists in a slow deliberate movement.
The memory of that same hand movement, coupled with the man’s words from a few seconds ago, instantly clicked in his foggy mind.
Brown Shirt Guy. “Chicago. Rooftop. I kicked your ass.” Bull probably shouldn’t have added that last detail, but the tranquilizers were obviously screwing with his common sense.
“The cops saved your ass that day. I had orders to apprehend. Not kill.” Mr. Chicago quieted and looked to the gunman still holding aim squarely at Bull. “He gets that pleasure.”
Bull stumbled back against the couch, nearly falling. He slid his hands behind his back again, trying to leave another breadcrumb but his brain and hands weren’t in sync anymore. He tried. Then tried again until his knees buckled.
Each breath, more labored than the one before.
Not a breath. More like a series of random gasps when his lungs decided to work.
He clutched at his chest and gritted his teeth, willing the numbness he felt on the outside to calm his heart that thumped with far too much force and a heck of a lot more speed than anything remotely normal.
“I swear, if you dosed him enough to kill him, I’m going to rip your limbs off one by one. Grab him and take him to the truck.”
A yank of his hair threw his head back. He could barely keep his eyes open or stay upright.
“The tranq should be enough to knock him out, but I want to be sure.”
With something between a sneer and a smirk, the man slammed his fist into Bull’s face.
“Take him to the fucking truck. Now!”
Pain bloomed across Bull’s cheek and eye as his body fell limp. With everything blurring out of focus and his mind in a foggy haze of chaos, there was one thought that was crystal clear.
At least we’re getting out of here before Ben gets home. He’ll be safe.
The corner of his mouth curled upward. The relief of knowing that one small detail was enough to give him a little peace.
“I’ll give you something to smile about.”
Another blow to Bull’s face wiped the smile away and threw everything into blackness.
= ♥ =
Ben held the keycard up to the reader, pushing the door open once the light flashed green. He stepped inside and immediately froze. His eyebrows twitched as he scanned the room. Nothing appeared out of place yet something felt way off. Gabriel always waited for him to arrive before going to bed. But even if he had turned in early, he wouldn’t have left all the lights on in the living room. Maybe just the one at the entryway so Ben wouldn’t walk through the door and step into darkness.
With his heartbeat thumping wildly in his chest, Ben slowly walked into their bedroom.
Empty.
His pulse spiked. Swallowing heavily, he checked the bathroom, and then ran to the other side of the penthouse, checking every room and closet along the way.
Something wasn’t right.
He circled back to the kitchen counter. Flattening his hands on the cool granite, he ducked his head and closed his eyes as he took a few deep, calming breaths.
Think. Think. Think.
Maybe Gabriel had run to the store? Maybe he had gone to the gym downstairs? Maybe…no. Gabriel would have texted, video called, or left him a note so he wouldn’t worry.
He pulled his phone from his back pocket. No missed calls or texts. Quickly dialing, he video called Gabriel, his heart sinking when he didn’t get a reply. He shot off a quick text and waited. The message showed as delivered but not read.
He raked his fingers through his hair, nearly yanking the strands daring to hang over his eyes.
Maybe he doesn’t have his phone?
No.
Gabriel always has his phone with him.
He would start with the living room, then check each room. Ben ran to the large window and pressed the button on the panel, waiting as the automated window shades slid down from the ceiling, stopping when it touched the window frame edging along the floor. One by one, he switched off every single light until everything was pitch black.
He called Gabriel again as he slowly scanned the room.
A faint dot of flickering light reflected off the television screen. He ran to the living room couch and spotted Gabriel’s phone partially tucked under one of the cushions.
Ben frowned as he reached for the phone. Gabriel wouldn’t leave it behind, regardless of where he went.
Trying to contain the rising panic, he did exactly what Gabriel had told him to do if there was ever anything wrong and he wasn’t available.
He shot off a text to Aidan.
Aidan’s reply was quick. What’s up?
I don’t know. Something’s wrong. Gabriel’s not home.
Give me a sec. I’m going to call him.
His phone’s here.
The dots bounced on the screen. Stay put. Make sure all the doors are locked. I’m calling it in and coming over.
Clutching his phone to his chest in one hand and Gabriel’s in the other, his breathing sped. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He felt it in every bone in his body. His lips parted as the air huffed in and out. He screwed his eyes shut and walked backward through the darkness until his back hit the wall by the entryway.
Everyone he had held close to his heart had been taken from him one way or another.
No…please…
He slid down the wall until his ass hit the floor. With a phone still in each hand, he ducked his head and banged both closed hands against his head.
No, please. Not Gabriel.
The ache in his heart swelled and spread. H
e wouldn’t let his mind nosedive into negativity.
He couldn’t.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone vibrated in his hand at the same time the lights flashed in the penthouse, letting him know someone had rung the doorbell. A text from Cal lit his display.
Aidan called me. Open the door. I’m right outside.
He shot up from his spot on the floor, thankful his friend lived a few floors down in the same hotel. After a quick peek through the peephole, he swung open the door.
Cal slid inside and locked the door behind him, then switched on the light by the entryway. One room at a time, Cal walked through the penthouse, likely double-checking things for himself. Returning, Cal switched the lights on in the main area, then stood in front of Ben. His disheveled hair, mismatched clothes, and sockless sneakers let Ben know Cal had darted out of his room on short notice. Proof the man was a friend when he truly needed one.
“Why are you in the dark? What happened?”
Ben shook his head. He carefully set Gabriel’s phone on the kitchen counter, not wanting to risk it slipping from his hand. He pulled up the note app on his phone and typed out a quick note.
Got home. He wasn’t here.
Calvin frowned as his gaze slid to the phone on the countertop. “He wouldn’t leave his phone behind,” he said, as if the connection had finally registered in his mind. He glanced around the living room, then returned his attention to Ben. “Nothing looks messed up. When you got home, did it all look like this?”
Ben nodded.
Cal’s lips thinned and his jaw muscles tightened. He took a seat at one of the barstools at the kitchen counter and patted the stool next to him.
Barely able to keep himself together, Ben fell into the seat.
“We’re going to sit here and wait for Aidan. We don’t know what happened, so it’s best to not risk messing anything up. Okay?” Cal stared at him, as if waiting for some acknowledgment to his words.
With a nod, Ben’s shoulders slumped.