Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Either way, it was clear that wasn’t happening. I pulled on my last clean pair of boxer briefs and slid into the bed.
“I know I should probably offer to sleep on the love seat, but that’s not happening,” I said without looking at him. I didn’t want to risk the look of disappointment or, worse, disgust on his face when he realized I was going to hold him to his earlier offhanded statement about sharing the bed.
“It’s fine,” he said hoarsely. “Just go to sleep.”
I gritted my teeth, turning to face the wall. “Asshole,” I muttered under my breath.
The bed behind me dipped, and it took all of my core strength to keep from rolling toward him. Instead, I rode the edge of the bed like my life depended on it.
“You’re going to fall off the mattress.”
“I’m fine.”
Locke sighed like I had worked his very last nerve. “’Course you are.”
He turned off the lamp, dousing the room in darkness. Silence slid between us, and for some reason, that made me feel sorry for myself.
Tired, lonely, and rejected. The triple crown of pathetic. I couldn’t help the tears that slid down my face or the tiny accompanying hitch in my breathing.
Beside me, Locke froze.
“Are you… crying?” he demanded, horrified.
“No,” I sniffled, willing the hot tears back into my eye sockets. Betraying little fuckers. “Of course not. Jesus.”
After a minute, I couldn’t help but sniffle again. It was just exhaustion, that was all.
“Get the fuck over here,” he grumbled, reaching a warm hand around my hip and tugging me back until I was engulfed in his arms, little-spoon style. “Go to sleep.”
The tears came faster but silently. I thought I’d gotten away with my noiseless pity party until his deep voice murmured, “You’re killing me.”
I turned in his embrace and buried my face in his neck, reaching my arms around him and hugging him tightly.
“I’m sorry,” I half sobbed. “It doesn’t mean anything. Ignore me.”
His strong hands roamed up and down my back, careful of my bruises. I waited for his gruff demand again to tell him who had hurt me, but it didn’t come. Instead, he shushed me gently and murmured reassurances into my ear, his warm, minty breath soothing and welcome on my skin.
And all I could think was… I hadn’t known Locke was capable of this. Of simple comfort.
I knew him as a proud, controlled man who sometimes pissed me off with his cool, confident demands. As a man whose perma-frown made it damn near impossible not to tease and provoke him. But his deep voice muttering nonsense words—rumbling from his chest directly into mine—was more soothing than anything I could remember.
It reminded me of the way my fathers treated each other, never hesitating to show that the other was beloved and cared for.
I began to calm, wondering if I should pull away again and let him sleep without a clinging spider monkey plastered to his front. Instead, I squeezed my eyes closed and let myself daydream that I was in the arms of someone who loved me. That I was something protected and cherished.
Once upon a time, this was something I’d wanted for myself. Then I’d gotten my heart broken in college—twice—and realized I was happiest when I didn’t take things too seriously. Casual sex with no strings was fun and easy. I fucking loved it. Besides, commitment and true love weren’t exactly compatible with being an ESP agent.
If I ever did want commitment, it wouldn’t come from a straight guy like Locke Maris, who lived in a completely different world than I did, or any other straight guy who didn’t appreciate how good it was to be with another man.
This was simply a moment of weakness.
“Go the fuck to sleep,” he grumbled, tugging my hair a little where his fingers had been running through it.
“Fine, but I’m not moving,” I warned him sleepily. “I’m staying right here in your face.”
He shifted a little, making his lips accidentally brush my forehead. “I will give you a thousand dollars if you shut up and do as I say.”
I snuggled in closer to his warm, reassuring strength. “I will give you a thousand dollars if you suck my cock right now.”
He let out a huff of laughter, his breath moving the hair over my forehead. “Baby, if you had a thousand dollars, maybe we could talk.”
I fell asleep with a grin on my face and words of my own wealth on the tip of my tongue. I didn’t speak them, of course, or believe his offer. But I imagined his hot mouth around my cock anyway. It was enough to set me up for the best dreams possible.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t how dreams worked.
The nightmare began as all my nightmares for the past several weeks had. Murky water against the docks in Hamburg. Overcast skies and too-brisk wind off the water. The now-familiar clank of equipment and shout of the hafenarbeiter as they loaded and off-loaded cargo. The forbidding sense of danger and deceit. The knowledge that something wasn’t right.