Must be a fashion thing, he thought. Leah was always setting trends in the socialite scene these days. Jamie had done the same amongst his group of peers when he was much younger before leaving for Annapolis at eighteen. Sometimes his childhood and teenage years felt like they belonged to an entirely different person.
“One of these days you’ll need to stop treating us like a punishment,” Leah said after a minute or two of blissful silence.
Jamie grimaced, feeling a shade guilty. “You’re not a punishment, Leah.”
“Some days it seems like it, and those are usually the only days you’re around now.” She turned her head to look him in the eye, trusting in him to guide her. “You’re a fucking terrible older brother sometimes, but I love you anyway.”
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “But I can’t be their perfect son if it means giving up everything I am.”
“I’d say they’ll come around, but we both know they won’t. Father is going to be terrible company after tonight. I’ll probably leave New York and go somewhere else to escape him for the next week or so. Maybe Paris. An ocean between us sounds nice right about now.”
“You done digging in the knife?”
“Nope,” Leah replied a little more cheerfully. “You’ll owe me so much by the end of this damn campaign. So much, Jamie.”
When the elevator finally came, they and several other patrons took it down to the lower levels where the garage was. Jamie led his sister to his car, automatically scanning the immediate area for any possible threat, a habit he didn’t know if he would ever break.
They didn’t speak again until they were in the safety of his Bentley and the privacy mode had been activated. It was a different model than the one he kept in D.C., older, but still a dream to drive.
“You know, your car comes with a self-driving mode. You should use it. You hate Manhattan traffic,” Leah said as she buckled up.
Jamie pressed his finger to the small screen on the dash, letting the biolock read his print. “I’d honestly rather do a twenty-five klick hump before dawn than let a computer take the wheel.”
“Neanderthal,” she teased.
Jamie rolled his eyes and backed out of the spot. “Tell me again why I’ve missed you?”
“You don’t have the time available for me to list all the many reasons why.”
He drove to the pay gate with the shortest line before pulling out into evening traffic. Jamie reoriented them quickly once on the street and drove uptown on Madison Avenue. It didn’t take much effort to cajole a less fraught conversation out of his sister about what she’d been up to lately, purposefully steering clear of politics. It was nice to visit with her one-on-one, even if the mess of dinner still hung over them both.
It didn’t take very long to traverse the streets. The Upper East Side home they’d both grown up in towered over the biodome that sheltered Central Park. The two-hundred-level megatall skyscraper was part of a cluster the ultra-wealthy called home. Most families owned multiple levels to add space for comfort. The Callahans owned the top five levels with a panoramic view of New York City, along with the rooftop garden, and an entire sublevel in the garage for the family’s fleet of expensive cars. Jamie parked his Bentley in its designated spot before they got out and made their way to the private elevator that would take them to their restricted penthouse residence levels.
Leah placed her palm against the control panel and leaned down a little to complete the retina scan. Jamie watched the numbers flash across the screen as they rapidly ascended. When they slowed to a smooth stop 195 levels above the ground, the elevator doors opened up into a grand reception foyer dominated by an antique chandelier.
The interior design of their family’s home, inherited from his mother’s parents, fell rigidly along his mother’s personal tastes save for several rooms his father had claimed as his own on an upper level. Charlotte was a woman of defining, classical style that permeated every level of her life. Her home was no different.
Marble floors matched the different coloring of each level, leather chairs and couches paired with exquisitely carved rosewood furniture throughout the residence, while the family’s fine art collection hung on the walls inside slim, environmentally stabilizing glass frames. The open floor plan was linked on all levels by a multitude of curved marble staircases lit by crystal chandeliers. Charlotte despised the gaudy opulence of gold leaf, preferring clean lines and warm tones over the gauche trappings preferred by the nouveau riche.
This was home, except for how it wasn’t. Jamie had grown up here—half of one level still technically belonged to him—but the Washington, D.C., megacity was his domicile now. It’s where his work resided, where his team lived, and where his heart lay. He wasn’t keen on giving any of that up for the splendor of his youth.
Leah followed him through the hallways and up the marble stairs in silence, the two of them traversing three floors for the one that had been his growing up. Larger than his condo in D.C., it had been partially converted into separate guest suites after his departure. The master bedroom suite had been left alone, his mother still refusing to replace the child he’d been with the man he’d become.
Jamie had unpacked earlier, thinking for once that he would manage to stay the entire three days of liberty he’d been granted. Maybe next time he wouldn’t even bother. He grabbed his empty Goyard suitcase from the walk-in closet and dumped it on the bed. Leah stayed in the doorway, watching as he dug up his meager amount of clothes and returned them to the suitcase.
“Do you need a ride to the airport or did you take the train in?” she asked.
“I flew, but don’t worry about driving me. I’ll catch a cab.”
“It wouldn’t be out of my way.”
Jamie shook his head. “It’s thoughtful of you to offer, but I’d rather one of us enjoy the rest of the night. Since it won’t be me, I leave that job to you.”
“As if I need your permission to have a good time. I had plans later to meet with some friends to go clubbing. I’ll see if they’re up for starting our night out early.”
“Take a security detail with you.”
Leah rolled her eyes. “I know.”
Jamie closed his suitcase and set the biolock before looking over at her. “Time was you’d fight me on that.”
“Yes, well, maybe I’ve grown up. You just haven’t been around to see.”
Jamie rubbed a hand over his face before picking up the suitcase and setting it on the floor. All he could think to say to that accusation was, “I’m sorry.”
Leah bit her lip, her glossy lipstick staying put. “You’ve changed, you know that? I’m not talking about the obvious, but with how you treat us. How you treat me. You never used to be this angry.”
“It’s not you I’m angry with, Leah. It’s the situation. It’s what Father wants from me, and that’s something I can’t give him.”
“The impossible? You’ve always been good at delivering that.”
Jamie approached her and settled his hands on Leah’s shoulders, pulling her into a careful, tight hug. “We both know that’s not true.”
Leah wrapped her arms around his ribs and squeezed as hard as she could. “You’re alive. You came home.”
The hitch in her voice came from four years ago when he’d survived a Splice chemical bomb in Tripoli, Libya, during a failed rescue mission. His family had been present for the aftermath, when he grappled with becoming a metahuman and having lost nearly his entire platoon of Recon Marines. In the years since, there were days Jamie didn’t think he was alive, but that was a truth he’d never tell his little sister. The ugliness of war wasn’t something she would understand because she had never lived through it, and the only person he was obligated to talk to about it was his therapist.
Jamie kissed the side of Leah’s head before stepping back, giving her a fleeting smile. “Have fun tonight. If any boys want to dance, remember what I taught you.”
“I’m not kicking them in the balls.”
“Then call me. I’ll do it for you.”
She smacked a fist against his arm, returning his smile. “Go home, Jamie. You owe me.”
“I always do. Love you, Leah.”
“Love you too, big brother.”
Jamie left, trying not to feel guilty at the sheer relief he felt at putting his family and their myriad problems and demands behind him for one more day.
3
Run You Down To the Dark
Kyle woke from a deep sleep into instant awareness between one breath and the next, already reaching for the tactical handgun he kept in the nightstand on his side of the bed. He didn’t know what had woken him up at 2337, but instincts honed in war as a Strike Force sniper had saved his life too many times to count over the years. Ignoring them wasn’t something he’d ever do.
Sliding soundlessly out of bed, he left the bedroom on quiet, bare feet. Halfway to the kitchen he spotted the suitcase in the living room and sighed softly. He was supposed to spend these next two days alone, but apparently that wasn’t happening. Setting the handgun on the dining room table as he passed it, Kyle padded into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Jamie from behind.
“You’re supposed to be in Manhattan. You left less than eight hours ago,” Kyle said softly against the taller man’s back.
Jamie finished pouring the whiskey into the glass on the counter and set the bottle of Macallan aside. “I wasn’t in the mood to argue with my father. Staying would have only made things worse.”
Kyle could feel the tension in his lover’s body and let him go. Jamie turned to put his back against the counter and swallowed down half the glass of whiskey without flinching. Kyle took the glass from him, taking a sip. The liquid burned going down, but he liked that. It was nice being able to drink alcohol at home instead of paying exorbitant prices for it at a bar by himself. Not that he’d been at a bar alone lately, since he had Jamie to come home to now.
Kyle set the glass on the counter and leaned into Jamie’s personal space. Jamie’s hands came to rest on his hip, fingers dipping underneath the pair of sleeping pants Kyle had gone to bed in. The temperature in the condo was a balmy 70 degrees Fahrenheit, so Kyle hadn’t bothered with a shirt. He probably wouldn’t have bothered with clothes at all if he’d known Jamie was coming back early.
“That bad?” Kyle asked as he looped his arms around Jamie’s neck.
Jamie blew out a heavy breath. “I was late to dinner. I think I had six pieces of sushi before we started arguing and I decided to leave.”
“Should have maybe grabbed some food then, not the whiskey.”
“I ate on the flight over.”
Kyle wrinkled his nose. “Ugh. Airline food. Civilian airline food at that.”
“Military field rations aren’t any better.”
“True.”
Jamie leaned down to press his forehead against Kyle’s, sighing heavily. “My parents want to parade me around in front of the media for my father’s campaign and don’t seem to understand the definition of classified information.”
“It’s been what? Six weeks since he announced his candidacy? I’m actually kind of surprised he didn’t try to blackmail the director into making sure you were free when he set the date.”
“I would have found an excuse to not be there.”
“That’s kind of the problem, but I get it. Family can be the worst sometimes.” He curled his fingers around Jamie’s silk tie and ran his thumb over the smooth material. Jamie always looked good in a suit, especially this one, but Kyle would rather see it on their bedroom floor. “What do you need right now?”
Jamie moved to kiss him, easy and sweet, despite the angry grip of his hands on Kyle’s hips. Kyle leaned into his touch, rising onto the tips of his toes to kiss Jamie back, chasing the taste of whiskey in his mouth.
“Nothing. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Jamie murmured against his lips.
“I’d rather you wake me up than brood your way through a bottle of alcohol.” Kyle sank back down on his heels and smoothed his hands over Jamie’s shoulder, giving his tie a little tug. “Let’s go to bed.”
Kyle took Jamie by the hand and led him back to their bedroom. The luxury penthouse condo they shared belonged to Jamie, a gift from his parents in an attempt to bribe him to leave the MDF years ago. They let him keep it even though he refused to retire from active duty. Kyle technically shared an apartment with his brother in D.C., in a less well-to-do neighborhood, to keep up the appearance that he and Jamie weren’t together. In reality, Kyle had moved in soon after he’d officially joined Alpha Team last summer, neither of them willing to give up the connection they’d formed the first night they met.
They both had used up far too many second chances in their lives. Letting each other go would have been the right thing to do at the time—Jamie was his superior officer and that was a mess of regulations they were actively breaking on a daily basis—but they both knew how fleeting life could be. When Jamie had asked him to stay, Kyle didn’t have it in him to say no.
Their relationship had started out purely sexual, the both of them finding a kindred in bed that matched their individual needs perfectly that first night. Jamie was everything Kyle ever wanted in bed and then some, but sex wasn’t the only thing keeping them together now. They complemented each other beyond the bedroom, with Kyle filling a critical need the team had gone without for too long, and the both of them filling a void in each other’s lives. His and Jamie’s friendship had only deepened since July of last year, the two of them growing closer with every week that passed. Him staying with Jamie in the beginning may have been so they could both more easily get off and work through the stress of the job in bed, but their initial connection had grown into something deeper than the lust which first drew them together.
Kyle had gone through a lot of one-night stands in his life, but Jamie was the first man he’d ever really, truly cared about. He trusted Jamie with his life, so it wasn’t any surprise he’d started trusting Jamie with his heart.
The lights turned on at a dim illumination when they entered the master corner suite. Kyle had drawn the blackout curtains over the plas-glass windows lining both outer walls before crawling into bed earlier. Even with the extra security he knew Katie had outfitted the place with so that no one could see in from the outside, Kyle was a sniper. He preferred hiding over being out in the open.
He reached for Jamie’s tie when Jamie caught his hand, pulling it away. “I want you naked.”
Kyle bit his lip, the hot look in Jamie’s blue eyes and the deep tone of his voice going straight to Kyle’s cock. He wasn’t going to complain if this was how Jamie wanted to work through his stress.
“Yes, sir,” Kyle said, the response automatically falling from his mouth as he moved to obey.
He shoved his sleeping pants down over his hips, breathing in sharply as the waistband rubbed over his cock before they fell down his legs around to his ankles. Kyle stepped out of his sleeping pants and kicked them aside.
Jamie touched his chin, tipping his head back to make it easier to kiss him. Kyle arched into the kiss, moaning as a warm hand wrapped around his cock and lazily stroked him. Gripping Jamie’s shoulders to keep his balance, Kyle licked his way past Jamie’s teeth to suck on his tongue.
Jamie broke the kiss and took a step back. “Undress me.”
Kyle tongued the corner of his mouth, his lips still tingling from the pressure of Jamie’s mouth. “Yes, sir.”
Kyle pressed his hands to Jamie’s chest and skimmed them up and over his broad shoulders, catching the edge of the unbuttoned suit jacket beneath his thumbs to pull it off. Jamie rolled his shoulders to help it slide free and Kyle pulled it down off his arms. The lightweight wool fabric was smooth and soft against his hands as he shook the suit jacket to straighten it out. He walked over to the comfortable armchair in the corner to drape the suit jacket over it. In the heat of the moment, Jamie normally didn’t care about where their clothes landed. Wi
th it nearing midnight, and neither of them in a rush, Kyle took his time undressing Jamie because he could, since Jamie hadn’t said to hurry up.
He undid the silk tie with deft fingers, sliding it from around Jamie’s neck with a firm tug. He slung it over one arm, letting it fall against the bend of his elbow as he worked at the small buttons of the vest Jamie wore beneath the suit jacket. Not many men bothered with a three-piece suit, but Kyle hadn’t seen Jamie wear anything but that style in the time he’d known him.
The vest came off easily once the buttons were undone. Kyle stepped around Jamie, gently pulling it off before depositing it on the armchair along with the tie. Kyle’s cock began to firm up as he went to stand in front of Jamie once more, the anticipation making his skin prickle and his nipples harden.
He reached for the gold buckle of Jamie’s belt and undid the clasp, pulling the buttery soft leather through the belt loops with careful motions. Kyle deposited it on the armchair as well and took his place before Jamie once again. He gently pulled the shirt tails from beneath Jaime’s pants. His hands lingered on Jamie’s hips before Kyle slid them up that firm chest to start on the buttons at the collar of the shirt with steady fingers.
Jamie’s gaze was heavy-lidded and intent, never leaving Kyle’s face as he undid the buttons one at a time. The silken fabric of the button-down started to come undone, revealing the firm, muscled chest beneath it. Kyle couldn’t help himself by the third button and leaned forward, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss against Jamie’s chest. With every button that came undone, Kyle kissed the skin it bared until he reached the edge of his dress pants and was half-kneeling on the floor.
With the last button undone, Kyle got to his feet and snagged Jamie’s right hand, turning it over to more easily get to the platinum and sapphire cufflinks he wore. They came off easily and Kyle deposited them on the dresser rather than the armchair. He came back to Jamie and wrapped his arms around the taller man from behind, grasping the edges of the silk shirt and pulling it backward off his broad shoulders and down his arms.
In the Ruins (Metahuman Files Book 2) Page 5