by Libby Drew
Steady pressure and a varied rhythm did the trick. After a few short minutes of listening to Saul’s whispered moans and curses, Reegan reassessed his own ability to wait through a slow, steady build. His whole body ached, heavy with anticipation.
Saul melted against the wall, thrusting his hips forward in wanton desire. He’d stopped playing the unaffected recipient. Mouth open, he panted in time with Reegan’s ministrations, grunting when his cock sank deep into Reegan’s throat.
It shouldn’t have been this intoxicating. They were still just learning each other, testing limits. Yet every taste, every brush of Reegan’s tongue and teeth against Saul’s body felt right. Familiar. As though they were lovers connected by years of exploration and intimacy, not virtual strangers.
Saul tugged on Reegan’s hair with a warning whine, and he pulled back obediently. “You there already?”
“Yeah. Do you want—?” Saul gave a convulsive swallow, slipping his hands under Reegan’s arms and pulling him to his feet. “This.” Tilting his hips at an even more obscene angle, he took them in hand, wrapping both shafts in a tight fist.
The sensation would’ve driven Reegan back to his knees, but Saul’s other hand snuck around his back and yanked him close. Pressed together, breath mingling, they watched their straining cocks slide through Saul’s fingers. The sight alone would have brought Reegan over, but the added spark of friction, the drag of calloused skin over his aching shaft, doubled the intensity of his release.
He came first, coating Saul’s fingers, and with a clipped shout, Saul followed, shooting onto his stomach in strong pulses. He shuddered through the orgasm, strangling his cries behind his clenched teeth. As his grip loosened, Reegan moved in for a kiss, prying those teeth open with his tongue so that he could feel the last of Saul’s moans vibrate through him.
Neither rushed to separate. Reegan lay contented kisses along Saul’s shoulder, enjoying how Saul’s splayed fingers rubbed soothing circles on his back. When Saul did pull away, it was with obvious reluctance. He swiped a hand towel over his abs and hauled his jeans back over his hips. “I’ll let you get that shower.”
Since clinginess was never attractive, Reegan let him go. “Okay.”
“Call if you need anything.” With another of those shy smiles, Saul slipped out the door, and several seconds passed before Reegan conquered his own smile and turned to the matter at hand. Knees still unsteady, he peeked behind the shower curtain, hoping for a built-in seat. No luck. Saul hadn’t been lying. The stall was coffin-sized, and that might have been a generous assessment.
The one chrome knob, dull with soap film, looked daunting. Reegan double-checked but didn’t see voice controls anywhere. Unsurprising, considering the year and Saul’s economic situation. He tried giving a command under his breath anyway. “Set temp one hundred degrees.”
Nothing. Grimacing, he reached for the knob and lifted it up on a pure guess. Water shot out of the showerhead, and Reegan pumped a fist in the air. Some experimenting brought the stream from frigid to bearably scalding, and with a contented sigh, Reegan stepped under the spray. Even those who had the luxury of water showers didn’t enjoy pressure like this. Too wasteful. But in 2020, the great shortages had yet to occur. He could stand here for hours, or at least while the hot water lasted, and never feel a niggle of guilt.
Although the experience was a bit too much like a condemned man’s last meal.
The bar soap was familiar, and one bottle was helpfully marked shampoo. Reegan scrubbed away the dirt, sleep and sex, then turned the tap closed. Dripping, he grabbed the towel off the hook and stepped out of the enclosure onto the tile.
He might as well have stepped onto a sheet of ice. His heel slid out from under him, and arms flailing, he dropped backward, smacking his head against the wall before sliding to the floor of the enclosure with a moan. His vision dimmed, then brightened. A vicious throbbing began in his head that echoed in both his ankle and elbow. Blood filled his mouth, and he leaned sideways to spit onto the shower floor. Keeping his doughnuts down became an epic battle. The way his stomach was rolling, the odds weren’t looking good.
The door slammed open, and Reegan fixed a bleary gaze on the two figures that appeared. They were both Saul, sporting matching frowns, and Reegan couldn’t decide which to focus on. “What the fuck happened?” Both Sauls leaned down to grip his arms.
“Slipped?” Reegan spit more blood into the drain. “Sorry.”
The Sauls rolled their eyes, then leaned close enough to merge into a single figure that hefted Reegan under the arms. “Can you stand?”
“If you help. Think so.” In the end, though, Saul did it all, hauling Reegan to his feet and setting him on the closed lid of the toilet. Reegan leaned over the sink and buried his aching head in his arms. “Ow.”
“Seriously, are you okay?” From the sound of Saul’s voice, he’d sunk to a crouch next to Reegan. “How bad is it?”
“I’ll be fine.” His vision was already clearing, and the pain in his elbow had subsided to a dull throb. He winced when a washcloth was pressed to his cheek.
“Easy. You reopened the cut on your cheek.”
“Of course I did.” Death by clumsiness. He’d be a legend in time-travel circles. A comic legend. The only thing more embarrassing would be to choke to death on a chicken bone or something. He raised his head to blink at Saul. “Do you know the Heimlich?”
“I do.” Saul blotted the cut on Reegan’s cheek. “Why?”
“Just making sure. It’d be nice to live through the day.” And the way things were going, that wasn’t looking likely. Those waves in the timeline had become tsunamis.
“Do you need to lie down?”
The honest catch of concern in Saul’s voice helped alleviate the fear. The man cared. It meant more to Reegan than he’d thought it would. A shudder ran through him, not unpleasant in its intensity. Immediately, Saul draped a towel across his shoulders.
Reegan clutched it. “No. I’m fine. Just give me a minute, and I’ll get out of your way.”
“You’re not in my way.” The washcloth dabbed at his cheek gently. “Let me help you back to bed. You can rest while I get ready. I won’t be long.” He stood and slid a hand around Reegan’s waist to pull him to his feet. “Don’t worry about Cammie. I sent her home. Why she insists on coming in on Saturdays, I’ll never understand.”
“Cammie’s your…?”
“I’m not sure the force that is Cammie can be put into words.” Saul helped a limping Reegan through the office and back to the cot, patting away the worst of the water before settling him on the mattress. “She does a little bit of everything. Including mother me.”
“Doesn’t sound so bad.” Reegan’s own mother had died before he turned twelve, but she’d never been the affectionate sort.
“She’s far too interfering, but she has her moments.” Saul went quiet, mouth turned up in a half smile of genuine affection, and Reegan found a grin pulling at his own lips. Cammie’s moments must be pretty good. What a strange combination, the middle-aged matron and the ex-cop. Before he could ask any more, Saul placed the cloth back over Reegan’s cheek. “Keep pressure on that. I’ll be back in a few.”
Chapter Eight
Saul twisted the knob all the way to hot and stepped under the water.
That man was hiding something from him. It wasn’t even subtle, as if Reegan knew that Saul had cottoned on to the deception and was waiting to be called out for it. Swallowing his frustration, Saul ducked his head so the water beat down on the back of his neck, easing the nagging ache there. He couldn’t get a handle on Reegan McNamara, who appeared so intelligent and competent one moment, only to start talking to Saul’s bathroom appliances in the next.
Even more troublesome was Saul’s inability to keep their relationship professional, because Reegan tweaked his danger gauge. Hell, he buried the needle. Wherever Reegan stood in the mix between this runaway woman and her asshole husband, he wasn’t there by choice. Saul fe
lt that deep in his gut. This case was going to bring trouble down on his head, and the more involved he became with Reegan, the worse it was bound to be.
He washed quickly, rinsing the shampoo before it even had a chance to lather, shaved in record time, and stepped back into the front office fifteen minutes later, not exactly dressed, but not naked either. He slid the shirt over his head as he stepped around the door, expecting to see Reegan laid out on the bed, nursing the bump in his head. He’d be no good to anyone trying to function with a concussion, and considering the nonsense he’d been spouting right after the fall, Saul would be surprised if he’d escaped without one.
Instead, he found Reegan sitting up, dressed in his trousers from yesterday and the white T-shirt Saul had left him. He shot Saul a watery smile. “Thanks for the shirt.”
“Couldn’t have you scaring our witnesses away.”
Reegan’s had been saturated with blood, but since he looked a little green at the moment, Saul kept that fact to himself. “I figured with your retainer, I can afford it.” He pulled on a button-down. “Are you still up to this? Because, as you well know, I’d prefer to do it alone.”
“I’m good.” Reegan gave him a thumbs-up.
Damn. “Okay.” Saul buttoned his cuffs, then came to stand beside the bed. He tilted Reegan’s face up and looked closely at his pupils before pressing at the large bump on the back of his scalp.
“Ow.” Reegan batted his arm away. “Stop.”
“Don’t be a baby. Do I need to call my lawyer?”
There it was again. Confusion quickly masked with humor, as if the inside joke, banal as it was, had flown right over Reegan’s head. He pulled free of Saul’s touch. “No worries.” He stepped into his boots, stomping them to comfort, and plucked the white box from Cammie’s desk. “I’m taking this.”
Saul fought a smile. Damn it, he couldn’t let himself be charmed at every turn just because they’d slept together. Yesterday Saul would have said there wasn’t a romantic bone left in his body, and now here he was, acting like a thirteen-year-old girl. Annoyed, he hit the lights and gestured Reegan out onto the landing. “Whatever. With your luck, you’ll probably slip into a diabetic coma.”
He hadn’t expected Reegan’s face to wash gray. “On second thought.” Reegan backtracked to the desk. “I’ll save them for later.”
“Jesus, I was kidding.” Saul tracked Reegan’s shaky steps across the floor. “You’re not really diabetic, are you?”
“Even if I were, it would be the least of my worries.” He perched the safari hat on his head, took a deep breath, and set his hands on his hips while Saul locked the office. “So I take it we’re heading to Georgetown.”
Why did those words strike such fear in his heart? Saul hated working with other people. He always had, even when Ron had been his partner. Cammie didn’t count. She treated their cases like a never-ending mystery novel. Saul didn’t mind her presence most of the time. She balanced his tense aggression.
Reegan, on the other hand, was proving to be little more than a clumsy distraction. Saul had never bought in to superstitions, but he sure as hell paid attention to his instincts, and right now they were screaming at him to hand Reegan back his retainer and go hide in his office for a week. Which was about how much longer he’d occupy it unless he paid the rent.
“That’s right. Georgetown.”
Teeth clenched, he led Reegan down the street to the car. Never before had he felt so conflicted about a case, both craving it finished and wanting it to stretch. He needed to cut Reegan loose before his feelings grew any more complicated.
Reegan had fallen behind, and Saul glanced back to check his progress. No one should have been able to shake off a fall like that, but except for a slight limp, Reegan looked unaffected by the tumble. Clearly, though, his serotonin-fueled high had worn off. A series of deep creases lined his forehead, and he walked with head bowed, bottom lip between his teeth. Saul made himself look away before he spouted something inappropriate. They hadn’t talked about the night before, or their encounter this morning, but both times they’d connected deeply, not as strangers but as something more rounded and solid. Which felt both exciting and unnerving as hell, and Saul couldn’t decide if it warranted a verbal mention.
Reegan beat him to it, but had the decency to wait until they were off the street and in the privacy of the car. “Last night and this morning. It was good. Really good. Thanks.”
Busying himself with getting the car into traffic safely helped Saul control his pleased blush. “I don’t make a habit of that sort of thing.”
“I figured.” Reegan met Saul’s surprise with a wink. “You didn’t treat it casually. I’m glad. It wasn’t casual for me either. That’s why I needed to say something.”
Because he regretted it? Saul had never been good with these conversations, lacking the skills to understand what they meant to other men. He watched Reegan from the corner of his eye as he drove. “It was good,” he offered quietly after several blocks. Turned away as Reegan was, staring out his window, Saul couldn’t see his expression, but he gave a single nod.
And no matter how much I want it, we’re not doing it again, Saul’s conscience added. Silently, thank God, because it had been good. Too damn good, and he might have a strong work ethic, but he wasn’t a saint. Separation and distance. That was the best course of action here. He needed to stay focused. Reegan wasn’t the average client. Hadn’t been since he’d pounded on the door last night. But the less attention called to that, the better.
“Georgetown isn’t exactly small. How familiar with it are you?” Reegan folded one knee over the other, posture casual, but the tap tap tap of his boot against the door betrayed a hint of his agitation.
“I know most of it. You want to come clean about why she’d go there?” Saul clocked Reegan’s obvious unease and filed it next to his other observations of the man. His evasiveness could easily lead them astray. “I know initially you said she didn’t know this area. She obviously does. Or has some kind of connection with it. Give me something. I’m not going to be pissed.” Well, maybe a little. “We need to be on the same page here.”
Reegan ground his teeth. Back and forth his jaw shifted. “She knows the area, but it’s been a while. It’ll feel familiar to her, though. She used to sing at a bar near the university.” He licked his lips. “I don’t know if it’s still there.”
“What’s it called?”
“The Tabby Kitten.”
It didn’t ring a bell, but at least they had a lead. “Never heard of it. But you said something last night that got me thinking.”
Reegan raised an eyebrow in question.
“‘Once in a blue moon.’” He risked taking his eyes off the road. “That is the name of a bar on M Street.”
He saw the moment Reegan made the connection. He drew in a quick breath, and eyes alight, he turned to face Saul, fully engaged for the first time since they’d left the office. “That makes sense.”
“It does? Why?”
Reegan’s expression closed off at first. Then, to Saul’s surprise, Reegan pulled a deep breath, sat straighter, and confessed. “It’s the kind of thing she would have done. Thrown a clue like that into a conversation. I remember that about her. She loved words. She could create masterpieces out of the simplest conversations and put them to music. It was…she had a talent. Has a talent.”
More truth. There’d been a new quality to Reegan’s words, a depth that had been missing before. Whatever had convinced him to open up, he wasn’t holding back now. Saul nodded and turned the car toward Georgetown. “All right, then. That’s where we’ll start.”
Chapter Nine
Once in a Blue Moon had just opened its doors to the early lunch crowd when they parked across the street, Saul shoehorning the Rover into a metered spot just inches longer than the car itself. Reegan stepped out and, once on the curb, spun in a slow circle, hands on his hips, eyes tracking the groups of people who passed. Most were university
students, and those seemed to be the individuals who held Reegan’s interest. Nostalgia swirled in his eyes, the slight trace of a smile hiding below the surface of his stoic expression.
Saul tipped his sunglasses over his eyes and leaned against the hood of the car. “Miss your university days?”
Reegan swung around. “Not at all.”
The man took bad liar to a new level. And to what end? It had been a totally innocent question, having nothing to do with their search for Silvia. Saul filed the untruth away with all the rest, hoping that soon he’d find a pattern in the mishmash of information. A year ago the mystery would have intrigued him, and he might have found hours of pleasure in deconstructing it to find the answer. Now all he felt was an involuntarily flinch and more of that conflicting desire to both push Reegan away and pull him close.
“You sure? ’Cause you look like a little lost puppy who’s finally found his home.”
Reegan pursed his lips, dropping his gaze for several seconds before meeting Saul’s eyes over the car’s hood. “You’re very perceptive.”
The horrible, painful irony of Reegan’s statement nearly buckled Saul’s knees. Being unperceptive had been the root of his problems in the first place. That stubborn ability to miss the facts right in front of his face, and at the expense of so much. “I’m afraid that’s not really true,” he said, keeping most of the shake from his voice. “Not at all.”
People swarmed by on the sidewalk, but Reegan’s attention shifted. Hands planted on the hood, he studied Saul with narrowed eyes. “I know what I see. You don’t have to agree. We’ll just call it a difference of opinion.”
Saul shoved trembling hands into his pockets. “Ready?”
Side by side, they crossed the street to Once in a Blue Moon and stepped through the heavy wood-paneled doors into the dim interior. Six steps led up to the main floor, where an expansive bar sprawled across the middle of the room. In the rear, a low stage flanked by burgundy velvet curtains stood dark and empty. Pairs of plush chairs faced the stage, small tables between them, barely big enough to fit a drink or two. To the right of the bar and down another short flight of steps, Saul found restaurant seating. Dark wood tables dotted the center of the room while booths lined the wall. He and Reegan were the first customers of the day.