by Libby Drew
“Stop struggling.” Saul’s voice hissed in his ear. “Stay down.”
Not a problem. Reegan pressed a palm to his stinging cheek and lowered his forehead to the concrete. He heard shouting down the street. A pop, then another, farther away. Then the night went quiet. Even the baby in the apartment above had stopped crying.
Saul shifted off of him. “Are you okay?”
“Not sure.” He touched his cheek. The smell of blood was unmistakable now. “I think I just got shot.”
“Good guess.”
Reegan turned his head, blinking his vision clear in time to see a gun appear in front of his nose. “Shit!”
“Quiet.”
“You have a gun.”
“And you don’t. So shut up.”
It was an unequivocal order, delivered in a tone Reegan knew better than to argue with. He closed his eyes and concentrated on pulling air into his lungs. By the time Saul lifted himself to the side, most of the dizziness had passed. “What just happened?” he asked, hoping Saul heard the muffled question.
Saul sighed as sirens began to sound in the distance. “Not sure. Drug deal gone wrong?” He shifted to balance on the balls of his feet above Reegan, gun still pointed into the dark. “There’s some gang activity in this neighborhood. Could’ve been that. It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t about us.”
“It sure as hell feels like it was about us.” Hand still pressed to his cheek, Reegan let Saul help him to his feet. “If it wasn’t, then why did I get hit?”
“You didn’t. At least not on purpose. It was just a stray bullet. An accident.”
Reegan wasn’t able to suppress the hysterical laughter. He’d been here less than eight hours, and already the universe was after him. He jerked his arm free of Saul’s hold and started stumbling down the street.
Saul caught up with him quickly. “Where are you going?”
“To bed. I’ve had a shitty day. I fucked up on the job, and I’ll probably get fired for it. I’ve been lied to, threatened and shot at. The only thing going for me right now is…hell, I don’t even know. I’m going to try sleeping and see if I can survive that.” At the end of the street, a flickering neon sign beckoned. Hotel. Vacancy. Cheap.
Perfect.
He dug in his pocket as he walked, looking for anything to stem the blood dripping from his jaw. “See you in the morning.”
A cool, soft cloth pressed into his palm. A bright white handkerchief. Reegan looked stupidly at it until Saul lifted Reegan’s hand, hanky and all, to his bleeding cheek. “It just grazed you, but it still needs cleaned and dressed. Let me take you to the hospital.”
“No, thanks.” He turned away as a police cruiser raced by. He knew as much field training as the next guide. He could perform his own medical care.
“Jesus, you are a stubborn bastard.” Saul blew out a frustrated breath as they reached the street corner. “Then come back to my office. I’ve got a kick-ass first-aid kit and a fold-up cot in the coat closet. Sleep for a few hours, and we’ll head out together later.”
“You don’t need to do that. This wasn’t your fault.”
“I’m aware of that.” He met Reegan’s measured expression, then led him back to the car. “Get in.”
Chapter Six
Saul used a cotton swab to spread antiseptic over the cut bisecting Reegan’s cheek. “You’re lucky.”
“Now that’s funny. You just don’t understand why.”
The gentle touch withdrew, and a clean bandage appeared. Reegan gritted his teeth while Saul pressed at the adhesive edges. He’d offered to tend to the cut himself, had insisted on it, but Saul had ignored the request, stopping only to wrestle the rollaway cot from the coat closet before manhandling Reegan into the bathroom, stripping off his bloodstained shirt and pushing him onto the seat of the commode.
“I mean this could have been a lot worse. A few inches one way or the other, and you’d be dead.”
“Is this a pep talk? Because it’s atrocious.”
He scored a lopsided smile in answer. One by one, Saul repacked the medical supplies into his first-aid kit. Bandages. Alcohol. Cotton swabs. He took his time, swaying into Reegan’s personal space every few seconds, passing close enough for Reegan to feel the gentle whoosh of displaced air and catch a whiff of Saul’s aftershave.
He endured the routine with rising frustration, and as soon as Saul stopped fussing and stepped back, Reegan escaped. He might have been injured, exhausted and on the run for his life, but none of that tempered his reaction to having Saul’s hands on him or his face inches away. Not once while he was playing doctor had Saul given the impression he wanted to engage in the more energetic version of the game. Focused, hands steady, he’d tended to Reegan with cool professionalism. It chafed that Reegan had trouble controlling his impulse to touch when Saul obviously didn’t.
His original plan, upon being forced back to Saul’s office, had been to accept a Band-Aid and get out. But the sight of the rollaway bed leaning against the far wall, pile of linens on top, undid all his good intentions. He stumbled over and pressed his forehead against the stack of cool, clean sheets. “Hello, bed.”
“It’s pretty comfortable, believe it or not.”
Reegan turned to see Saul lounging in the doorway, a clean white T-shirt in his hand. He stepped forward to offer it to Reegan.
“Thanks. Where do you sleep?”
“Pullout couch. In there.” He jerked his chin at the inner office as he dried his hands on a dark blue hand towel.
Even through Reegan’s exhausted haze, he looked delicious. Rumpled. Concerned. Annoyed. And down one bottle of vodka, though he hadn’t made mention of the loss since it’d happened. He looked to be missing it now. Reegan missed it now. Anything to lighten the burden he was carrying. “Thinking about a drink?”
The reference took a moment to penetrate, then Saul blinked and straightened off the doorway. “No.”
It was a baldly honest answer. Reegan didn’t bother asking if he meant it. “We all have our weak moments.”
He’d struck a nerve. Overstepped. He sensed it the moment Saul gave a nonchalant shrug and crossed the room to help unfold the bed. The mechanics were simple enough once Reegan saw them in action. The frame peeled apart, then snapped into place. Saul rolled it into the open space between the waiting room chairs where it languished, looking stark white and out of place next to the silk ficus. As exhausted as he felt, Reegan wouldn’t have cared if they’d set it up outside on the sidewalk. “Thanks.”
Saul shook out a sheet. It billowed onto the thin mattress. He’d lit one small desk lamp when they’d come in and had twisted the mini-blinds closed. With no light filtering in from the street, the weak halo of illumination threw long shadows into the corners, turning tiny objects into giant ones, but the shadows on Saul’s face stemmed from something different altogether. Whatever was haunting him, he did a poor job of hiding it.
What kind of professional investigator took on a client at midnight and then left himself unprotected from that client while he slept a few feet away? One far too trusting. Or one who didn’t care. Which category did Saul belong to?
Up until now Reegan would have chosen too trusting, though that didn’t sit so well after the few conversations they’d had. The idea that he didn’t care was absurd. He’d disproved that at every available opportunity, tending to Reegan’s wound and worrying over his well-being. He’d latched on to keeping Silvia safe. The disquieting thought that the man held no care for himself made Reegan clutch the sheet in his fist. Maxie had said Saul’s business only lasted eighteen months. What had happened?
Reegan took the blanket from Saul when he started to unfold it. “I’ll get that. Not scared I’m going to rob you blind while you’re sleeping?”
Saul pressed his palms to his eyes as he laughed. “If you can find something valuable, it’s all yours.”
Reegan was starting to feel like he already had. Before second thoughts stilled his hand, he hooked two finger
s in the waistband of Saul’s jeans. He didn’t pull, just rested them there. An invitation.
Saul stared down at them, crooked smile pulling at his lips. His expression held a lifetime of regret. “That wouldn’t be very ethical of me.”
Ethics never had been Reegan’s strong point. He gave an experimental tug and Saul’s hips tilted forward. His energy might be sapped, but his desire for Saul hadn’t eased. He felt it beating in his blood, subdued for the moment, but ready to boil over at the slightest sign. Already it simmered at the memory of how Saul felt in his hands. “What part feels unethical in particular? Me blowing you or you fucking me through this thin, shitty mattress?”
Saul’s pupils flared, dilating even more in the low light. “You have a way with words.”
“They’re my trade, you could say.” He tugged harder, and Saul planted his feet. Reegan almost growled. “You playing hard to get?”
“No. I don’t play games.”
Reegan frowned at the sardonic tone and let his fingers slip free. The momentum carried Saul back a step. Being rejected wasn’t something Reegan had a lot of experience with. Mostly because he didn’t put himself out there very often. Angry for reasons he had trouble understanding, he turned to shake the blanket out over the bed and tried to remember if he’d breached some sort of unspoken etiquette for this time period.
Once the blankets were in place, he stood unmoving by the cot, waiting for Saul to leave. In no universe was he going to strip in front of a man who’d just turned him down. Clothing was his only armor in this fight. His emotional boundaries were shot to hell. He hadn’t a single friend in the world, except maybe Maxie, and even that wasn’t a sure thing. His life was on the line. His career was toast for sure. He could be dead tomorrow. All he wanted was some release. Was that so unpalatable?
No. Keep it honest. Anonymous sex held no appeal right now. He wanted Saul.
He’d been so busy sifting through his angry thoughts that he missed Saul stepping up behind him. Two large hands settled on his hips. “Sorry.”
The man did mixed signals like he had an advanced degree. “For what?”
“For being a prick.” Saul leaned in, his chest met Reegan’s back, and he breathed a sigh against Reegan’s neck. “You’ve done nothing but turn me on my ass since you walked through that door.”
“I’m talented like that.” He tilted his head back until the water-stained ceiling plaster came into view, and Saul took advantage, mouthing up the side of Reegan’s throat. The rasp of his stubble sent a series of tremors through Reegan. And the tentative wet touch of Saul’s tongue pulled a moan from deep in his chest. He savored moments like these, when the quiet passion of a patient lover turned casual to special. Saul didn’t seem to be in a hurry, so Reegan grabbed the hands bracketing his hips and urged them around his waist.
Saul made an approving sound deep in his throat, pulling Reegan tight against him. He peppered his gentle nips with openmouthed kisses, spreading his hands wide over Reegan’s stomach. The slow seduction didn’t temper Reegan’s rising lust, but he tamped down the urge to push Saul’s hands lower.
Saul didn’t make him wait long. A capable hand slid to cup his stiff cock through his trousers. “You said something about a blowjob?”
“I did.” Reegan spent another few seconds relishing the embrace, as well as the fingers working him, then turned in the circle of Saul’s arms. He had a cursory idea of what to expect after their kisses earlier, but the thick bulge filling out the front of Saul’s jeans made his breath catch in his throat.
Setting their foreheads together so that their breath mingled, he worked Saul’s belt open and popped the button on his jeans. Saul’s hands clamped around his back as Reegan reached inside to fondle the thick length of his erection. “Nice,” he whispered against Saul’s lips.
Saul answered by slanting his mouth over Reegan’s, his growing desperation plain in the way he worked himself against Reegan’s teasing fingers. Desperation that was in no way one-sided. Reegan dove into the kiss, ecstatic when Saul pushed back with equal vigor, all traces of tenderness gone. Reegan fisted his hands in Saul’s hair and yanked, then worked the tender skin of his throat with tongue and teeth.
“Come on. Come on,” Saul panted. He ground himself against Reegan’s hand, asking for more than a loose grip and fleeting touches. It was easy to give in, to concede the battle and reach inside Saul’s briefs to take a firm hold of his cock.
“This what you want?” he asked, breaking the kiss.
“It’s not everything I want.”
Reegan pulled back, flashing a wicked smile. “Tell me, then.” Whether Saul did or not had no bearing on the outcome, but if he liked a bit of dirty talk, Reegan would happily provide it.
Saul drew a sharp breath, and a growl worked its way up his throat. Instead of speaking, he abandoned his hold on Reegan and shoved his jeans and underwear to his thighs. “Suck me.” One of those capable hands landed on Reegan’s shoulder, exerting a gentle but steady pressure.
Reegan had no reason to fight it. He sank to his knees, taking a moment to admire the aroused man in front of him. “Beautiful.”
Saul’s startled laugh cut off as Reegan licked up the length of his cock, wetting his lips as he went, then moved to suckle the head. Hands clamped onto Reegan’s shoulders. Head thrown back, Saul hissed air through his teeth. “Sweet Jesus.”
Reegan jolted at Saul’s whispered curse and, unable to hold back any longer, began to stroke himself through his pants. The knowledge that he’d put such passion in Saul’s voice was a heady aphrodisiac. Saul felt and tasted perfect, his cock hot enough to burn Reegan’s tongue. The seed leaking from the tip tempted him, promised much more, but before he could tease more from the slit, a hand fisted in his hair, pulling him back.
“Enough.” Saul trembled above him, eyes glazed, mouth open as he panted. “Christ, I’m sorry. It’s too much. Been too long.”
Those words alone drove Reegan to dive back toward his prize, eager to taste Saul’s release, but the grip on his hair held.
“No.” Saul swiped his free hand over his mouth. His gaze fell to where Reegan’s hand was working himself. “Wanna fuck you.”
An acceptable compromise. Reegan made his fingers release his erection, and when Saul stepped back, he rose unsteadily to his feet. “Okay.” Swaying, knees weak with lust, he toppled when Saul pushed him back onto the cot.
“Stay there.”
Saul spun and disappeared through the door that led to his inner office, emerging only a few seconds later with a small bottle and a condom. Reegan frowned at the foil packet. He was completely up to date with his vaccinations. There was no disease he could catch that his body wasn’t already immune to, but that wasn’t something he could explain. No matter how much he wanted to feel Saul bare inside him, he wouldn’t fuss about the condom. In 2020, the caution was warranted.
Saul ripped the packet open, eyes bright with lust. “Lose the pants.”
Breathless, Reegan obeyed, stripping his pants and underwear down. A small lift of his hips and he was bared to his thighs. Saul took over, ripping the clothing free and flinging it to the floor. The unbridled aggression fired Reegan’s lust, and his insides curled with heat. He patted the cot. “Will this thing hold both of us?”
“It’ll hold you.” Saul grabbed Reegan’s thighs and pulled until his hips were in danger of sliding off the edge of the cot. “That’s all that matters.”
Reegan let his legs fall open, too turned on to care about lengthy foreplay, though he knew he’d regret it later. Saul’s passion fed his own, short-circuiting his concerns and propelling one goal above all others: to be taken and owned by the man standing over him.
He exhaled, forcibly relaxing himself, preparing for Saul’s thick cock, then hissed in surprise when a warm, heavy weight settled against the back of his thighs and a single slick finger breached him. His eyes shot open, and the finger stilled. Braced above, Saul tilted his head, passion-drunk gaze cle
aring for a moment. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Reegan shook with a quick burst of laughter. “Just wasn’t expecting that.”
“No?” Saul twisted deeper. “Were you expecting more or less?”
“More,” Reegan answered honestly. His eyes rolled back as Saul crooked his finger.
The finger retreated. Two returned. Gaze locked on Reegan’s, Saul shook his head. “Not with me. I won’t hurt you.”
The statement sent warm shivers to deep parts of his body where no fingers would ever reach. While it could’ve meant several things, and probably did, Reegan understood it was also Saul’s promise to protect him.
The last person to promise that had been his mother, over twenty years ago.
He strangled his instinctive emotional response and focused on how Saul’s fingers addled him with pleasure. “Yeah.” He grunted, pushing back. “More.”
Again, the fingers retreated, returning with a third in tow, but by then, Reegan’s patience had worn thin. “No.” He jerked away, and the initial push of penetration disappeared. Saul splayed his fingers over Reegan’s stomach instead.
“No?”
“Enough. Come on.” Reegan sat up to take a hold of Saul’s straining cock and gave it a long pull. “I’m ready.”
Saul’s own patience had to be at the breaking point, judging by how he shuddered at the touch. “Okay.” He slicked on the condom, hoisting Reegan’s legs over his arms without any hesitation or awkwardness. Reegan arched his back to improve the angle, and Saul slid inside.
So easy. So perfect. Even the burn and stretch felt dampened, as though they’d been regular lovers for years and knew each other’s limits intimately. Reegan shifted, and Saul compensated, finding the exact angle they both wanted, all without a word spoken between them.
For all the care he’d taken in prepping Reegan, Saul didn’t start slow or go gently. He bent over the cot, hesitating only to meet Reegan’s mouth for a kiss before taking him with fierce, overwhelming thrusts.
It was impossible to defend himself from the swift swell of pleasure, and Reegan didn’t even try. Saul left him no willpower to hold back or prolong the experience. All he knew was the need to complete. To do so with Saul.