by Marie Harte
You can’t help being as pretty as a picture, now can you?” What the hell did this guy want?
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes that color green before. Not green, not gray, but—”
“They’re gray-green. And I’ve seen lots of people with this color. Now spit it out, Ed. What do you want? My french toast is getting cold.” His frown appeared and left in the blink of an eye. Ed smiled. “To the point. I like that.”
Apparently he liked everything about her. She could die a happy woman.
Hurray.
“For years a friend of mine has been collecting antique jewelry. He swings by during the ski season, and we catch up. He tells me his latest finds and puts out feelers for stuff lost in this region of the Southeast. I can’t swear to it, but that locket around your neck makes me think of something he was looking for the last time he was here.”
She tensed but tried not to let her unease show. “Who’s your friend?”
“No one you’d know. Just a small-time jeweler I’ve known for years. Can I see your locket, Rory?”
It burned against her chest. “No.”
He blinked. “No?”
“It’s the only thing I have of my mother, and it’s mine. I won’t sell it, I don’t loan it out, and I don’t let anyone else touch it. So no.” Ed just sat there, stymied.
“Something else you wanted?” Rory let out a frustrated breath. She had wanted to stay at least through the end of the year, but now it looked as if she’d be moving on. Becky had been right about that, at least.
“That’s too bad, Rory.” Ed whipped out his cell phone and texted someone.
“Mind if I finish my coffee?”
Aware she’d made a mistake in being so open in her refusal to part with the locket, Rory simply ate her breakfast. When the sheriff arrived with his deputy to take her away for assaulting Gina, she had no one to blame but herself.
She should have stalled Ed, should have allowed him to look at the locket and see it wasn’t the one his friend was looking for. Rory hadn’t lied. Her mother had owned the locket before passing it on to Rory the day before she’d died. Rory hadn’t taken it off since.
“Rory Taylor? Come with me,” Sheriff Jackson ordered.
Rory made a face at Ed and stood. “You’re making a mistake by doing this,” she said in a soft voice. “I’m not at fault here. And I won’t forget this.”
“Threatening me in front of the law?” Ed shook his head and sipped at his coffee, the glint of a diamond on his ring finger one she’d missed.
She couldn’t look away. Oh yeah, she knew how Ed could make it up to her.
He’d start with that ring, and every other piece of bling in that mansion he lived in on top of the hill. She reached for Ed’s hand and gripped it tight. “Don’t do this, Ed.” Just a few seconds more, and the diamond would literally jump into her palm…
He pulled his hand away, not noticing the diamond now missing from his ring.
“It’s already done.”
“Come on, Rory.” The sheriff and his deputy nodded to Ed and took her away.
But at least they treated her gently, and they didn’t check her pockets, where she’d stashed Ed’s diamond.
At the jail, she refused to part with the locket.
“Let her have it, Stanton. It’s not like she’s going to hurt anyone with it,” the sheriff snapped.
The jail was empty.
“Sure thing, Sheriff.” The deputy shrugged. He pushed her into the cell and closed the door with a solid bang.
Rory blew out a breath and flopped down on a neatly made cot. At least the Mayberryness of the town extended to the jail. If nothing else, her imposed incarceration would give her the time and space to make plans.
She drew the locket out from beneath her shirt and held it tight, then closed her eyes. Behind her lids, sparks flared, the wash of bright lights, gold and silver stars, and diamond clarity suggested all kinds of ways to grab Ed Jackson’s famed sapphire collection, as well as any other treasures he had holed up in his house.
Rory smiled. She knew just how to begin her exodus from town. One glittery step at a time.
* * *
James had run out of patience. Three days of monosyllabic responses to his questions. Three days of driving, country music, and hotels, the tedium broken only by lifting weights and running until he neared exhaustion. Keegan, for all his faults, made sure the hotels they stayed in had state-of-the-art facilities. Jack, he’d deigned to explain, would just have to suck up the cost. James calculated they had another thousand miles before they hit Jackson Heights. And before that, one more stop in Savannah. Thankfully, the painting they’d been ordered to locate had been sitting pretty in a gallery window in the French Quarter. An easy find, and one that had finally put James and Keegan back on the boss’s good side.
When James had called to report his findings, Jack had answered with, “Good job. You have two more weeks to get to Jackson Heights, grab the locket, and get back. Don’t fuck it up.” Words to live by.
“So here’s the thing, James.”
Finally. He speaks. “Yes?”
They’d bunked down for the night in a New Orleans hotel room overlooking St.
Louis Street, a historic hotel worth the price for the gourmet dinner they’d eaten. In silence. Once again.
“Keegan, talk, or I’ll do something you’ll probably regret.” Poor choice of words, but to his relief, Keegan didn’t seem to read anything into them.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I don’t understand something.”
“What’s that?”
“Jack built the gym a year ago, right?” Expecting to hear Keegan’s reasons as to why they could never be more than friends, James blinked in confusion. “Ah, right.”
“But the PWP didn’t shut down until six months ago, so Jack obviously caught wind something was going down before the program got the ax. And he couldn’t know which of us would actually choose not to join any of the other agencies and join with him instead. I know you almost stayed with the bureau but changed your mind at the last minute.”
“Where are you going with this?” And when would they talk about the mess between them currently eating James alive?
“I’ve been doing a little digging. Did you know Jack has a silent partner who owns half the gym?”
“Everyone knows somebody staked him. Jack’s not made of gold.” Keegan frowned. “But do you know who the silent partner is?”
“And this matters to me why?”
“Owen Stallbridge, multimillionaire playboy, the one that owns all those properties in Bend. That’s the guy we’re also working for.”
“So what? We get a paycheck for honest work. Who cares?” James crossed his arms over his chest and reminded himself to be patient. Frying his lover was not the equivalent of foreplay.
“Stallbridge also happens to own a warehouse in Strasburg, France. One that was broken into a little over a year ago. Lost a fortune in family heirlooms. It was all over the news.”
“Your point?”
“Don’t you think it’s a little coincidental that we now have a mission and an anonymous client? One who happens to have a lot of bizarre things he wants found, items of power that psychics—that’s you and me—are suddenly stumbling over?
Items gone missing from said client a little over a year ago?” “So tie it all together.” James scowled in annoyance, irritated beyond measure Keegan refused to talk about them. He ticked off his fingers. “One: Stallbridge owns half of PowerUp! Two: his warehouse full of crap was broken into. Three: said crap is powerful stuff. Four: we’re now in charge of finding that powerful stuff. So what?” Keegan shrugged. “Something weird about it, and hell, I have to connect the dots when I see ‘em.” He ran a hand through his hair, bringing to James’s attention that Keegan still wore shorts and a T-shirt that molded to his fine body.
“Well, connect these dots. I’ve been waiting on your sorry ass for three days.
>
You’ve been freezing me out, making me listen to your shitty music, insisting you drive us everywhere, and generally acting like an asshole. I’m tired of it, and I’m getting hotter each day you ignore me.”
“Ah, James? Your bed is on fire.” Keegan didn’t even flinch as James swore and closed his hand to shut down the fire scorching his comforter. Fortunately, the fire was small and didn’t set off any alarms.
“I need to go for a walk,” James muttered, embarrassed. The strenuous workouts he’d been doing helped, but his emotional stress was taking its toll. Not knowing where he stood with Keegan drove him crazy.
Before he could get to the door, whisper hands shoved him hard up against the wall.
He landed and huffed out a breath. “What the fuck?”
“See, here’s the thing.” Keegan took off his shirt and toed off his shoes and socks. Standing in nothing more than nylon shorts that clung to his thick and expanding cock, he looked like a veritable god. “I’ve also been doing a lot of thinking about you and me.”
James didn’t speak.
“It’s your fault I went into a gay bar trying to prove something to myself.”
“I knew you were going to blame me for that.” James shut his eyes, frustrated and trying to keep a lid on his temper. “I found out I still like women. Guys don’t do a thing for me.” James opened his eyes and snarled, “Then explain that.” He stared at Keegan’s stiff cock.
“I wasn’t finished.” Keegan shook his head. “Your easygoing attitude has surely flown out the window, hasn’t it? So much for de-stressing,” he teased and walked up to James, pinned to the wall like a dead butterfly.
“Let me go, dammit.”
“No, I don’t think I will.” Keegan’s husky drawl aroused him like nothing else.
“You see, the biggest problem I had with you was wanting the guy who’s my partner. Well, that and wanting a guy, period. But from the first, there was just something about you.”
James struggled but couldn’t move his arms. As if Keegan’s actual hands held him tight to the wall, he remained stretched out, his arms above his head, his feet glued to the floor. Helpless, vulnerable, and so turned on, he worried he might come with a touch.
Keegan knelt before him and pulled off James’s shoes, socks, and pants.
James didn’t dare breathe, praying Keegan meant to go somewhere sexual with this striptease.
“Those handsome looks, that Yankee charm. The way women swoon over you and men watch you move. Had to be a spell you put on them, or so I thought. You’re one hell of an interrogator, son.” Keegan brushed his fingers under James’s T-shirt and over his tightly coiled abdomen.
He shivered.
“Yep. And you have one helluva body for a man who’s not into lifting.”
“I do it to maintain control,” James answered, his voice nearly hoarse.
“Now see, control. That’s what my problem was all along.” Keegan stroked the cotton over James’s erection, and James could feel the wet spot of precum sticking to his skin. “I like control. It’s a part of who I am. And you took it away. I didn’t like that.”
“Could have fooled me.” James glared at him. “Let me go.”
“I don’t think I will.” Keegan stared at James’s wrists, and they separated.
Then James’s shirt lifted up off his torso and flew over his arms to land on the floor, leaving James in nothing more than his underwear.
Keegan continued, “See, I like pussy. Love it, actually. But your cock, now that’s something I think I need to understand.”
“Oh, fuck.” James sucked in a breath when Keegan shoved his hand beneath James’s underwear and grabbed him tight.
“You’re hot, James. Silky smooth and wet too.” Keegan took a step closer, brushing himself against James. “I like you this way. Under my control. Yeah, I think this is gonna work for us.”
“Us?” he rasped.
“I’m telling you straight out I liked doing Carol with you. Something about tits and a pussy, the softness of a woman, that gets me off. Oh, you like that too, huh?”
“I told you I like women.” James counted to ten backward in his head, determined not to come in Keegan’s hand after two strokes.
“You like men too. See, that’s new to me, the liking men part. But I really like you, James. I need to see where this takes us, my way. Can you live with that? Can you let me run the show?”
Fuck, yes! “If I have to. Control freak.” James tried desperately to act as if he wasn’t a hairbreadth from losing it.
“You have to,” Keegan said in no-nonsense terms. “I’m not going to label us or this. I’m not afraid of being gay or bi or whatever the hell they call it. I’m not afraid of you, James.”
“Then why are you trying so hard to convince me of it?” Zing. He was right on target by the frown on Keegan’s face. Keegan kept his eyes on James’s as he slowly pushed James’s underwear off his hips. Then he dropped to his haunches, his breath fanning James’s erection, and took them all the way off James’s body.
“Yessiree. You look hard enough to poke through wood.” Keegan stood and stripped off his boxer briefs as well. The minute his cock bobbed free of the material, it grazed James’s tight belly.
“So you want to keep me tied up with your mojo while you fuck me?” Keegan nodded, a spark of humor in his eyes mingling with the raw lust there.
“Yep. That about nails it. Just waiting for your okay. And I’m warning you, I want to see what this man-on-man fucking is all about. I ain’t about to rush things ‘cause you’re about to come.”
“Fuck you.” James flushed.
Keegan laughed. “Back at you. I have to say, this feels good. You’re a smug asshole a lot of the time. Especially when you’re prancing around, flaunting that tight ass.”
“Prancing?” Starting to get seriously irked, James pulled at the hold on his wrists and ankles, wanting to get free so he could pound some sense into his friend.
He had no problem admitting to being attracted to men, but he wasn’t a twink. He didn’t do feminine. He was a man with a man’s needs.
“You sure do take offense easy.” Keegan crowded him and kissed the side of his neck. “Hmm, salty. I wonder if you taste like that…everywhere.” James couldn’t help arching into Keegan’s body, consumed with the need to increase the friction between them.
“Time for some investigatin’.” Keegan sucked on his neck and rubbed his cock against James’s belly, the act so sexual, it made James sweat.
“Do it. Please,” James begged, aware he’d fallen under Keegan’s power without much issue. But God, he was on fire, needing to come, needing Keegan to finally touch him the way he’d been dreaming about for years. Keegan pulled his head back and looked down into James’s eyes. The cowboy leaned close, cupped James’s cheek, and lowered his lips for a kiss. So gentle, so tender, the kiss was an exploration as much as it was a sexual melding of desire.
Firm lips met his with pleasure in mind. And then the kiss turned from light to intense.
Thrusting his tongue inside James’s mouth, Keegan swept inside, taking and owning James’s response like a true master. Though James had never been into the D/s shit, he could see where it would appeal to Keegan. And damn if it wasn’t appealing to him as well at this minute.
His groan echoed in Keegan when the larger male ground against him. Their cocks rubbed together, and the thought of it sent James into orbit.
“Gonna come if you don’t back off. So hot for you,” he groaned, needing Keegan to touch him, to fuck him. “Take me. Bend me over and shove that pole up my ass.” Keegan kissed him again, a rough taking that showed James his friend was close to his own end. He humped James brutally, sliding that thick shaft over his cock and belly, so stiff he bruised James when he prodded.
“Lube’s in my bag,” James offered and tilted his head, giving Keegan easier access as the man slid his mouth down his cheek to his neck and bit. “Yes, oh yes.” Keegan wrapped his
fist around James’s cock. “I like it thick. So big. Do you like it in my hand? Or would you rather have my mouth? My ass?” Keegan teased as he jerked him off.
“Anything you want,” James rasped. “Just don’t stop. I’m nearly there.” But the bastard did stop. “Not yet.” Keegan ignored his curses and stepped back, not unaffected by the pleasure himself. His cockhead was wet, his nipples tight beads, and his belly a clenched mass of muscle. Then the Texan further teased James by kissing his way across James’s chest while he ran a fingertip over James’s cock.
“Fuck.” James thrust his hips forward, but Keegan’s finger disappeared. Lips surrounded his nipple, sucking the tiny bud before biting it. “Oh shit, Keegan.” “That’s it. You like that.” Keegan murmured around his flesh and continued to kiss his body, sliding his mouth from one nipple to the other while he petted James’s stomach, circling his fingers around but not close enough to his groin.
“Come on, Keegan. Do me, man. Don’t tease, not now. So hard for you,” he managed to say between panting breaths. “Put that lube all over you and slide up inside me.”
Keegan pulled up from his chest, and his eyes glittered like diamonds. “You’d like that? I thought most guys couldn’t come when getting fucked.”
“I’m not most guys.” Trust Keegan to research the life instead of just living it.
“Besides, I’m so hot now, it wouldn’t take much more than a breath to send me over.” At the look Keegan shot his cock, James nearly broke. “Oh shit. Fuck. You’re not going to—Oh baby, you are. Please. Do it,” he said as Keegan slowly knelt.
“Suck it, swallow me. Christ, yes.”
Keegan trailed kisses down James’s chest and licked his way past James’s belly and pelvis, running his tongue along James’s swollen shaft.
“Hmm, salty,” Keegan rumbled and sucked James’s cockhead, then eased more of his mouth around it.
“I’m gonna come. Lots to give you.”