Six

SIX

A sh promised me he could go up an elevator without incident, stopping to talk to no one. He had emails to answer, calls to make, and since everyone he needed to speak with was on the West Coast, it was still early for them. When I hesitated, he shot me a look.

"I know you're a big boy and all, but I was, in fact, hired to protect you," I reminded him.

"True," he agreed, stepping in close, leaning in next to my ear. "But as far as I can tell, no one has any homicidal intentions toward me. The worst that can happen is bad pictures getting taken, though that can be terrible as well."

"You've never taken a bad picture in your life."

"Oh, if only that were true," he said dramatically.

It was possible I was seeing threats where there were none. I tended to err on the side of caution, which I'd done as a cop and carried along into my work as a fixer.

Regardless, I had him pull my phone from the breast pocket of my suit—since I was holding Gemma—and then from the back of the case, peel off a small black adhesive circle and put it on the lapel of his jacket.

"Not that this isn't fun, James Bond," he said with a snicker, "but what is this?"

"GPS tracker. It's reusable, so you can give it back to me once I'm in the room with you."

His eyes narrowed. "Peel-and-stick GPS? This is what you're telling me?"

"Yeah." I grinned at him, rubbing Gemma's back when she snorted herself half-awake, and she resettled quickly.

"Your boss is nothing like I thought he was. I thought Torus was just another agency. Albeit a good one, of course, but this is a bit more high tech than I was led to believe. What does your boss do in his downtime? Save the world?"

I scoffed. "If you knew everything about my boss, you'd never sleep again."

"That is in no way comforting."

"Cooper's a fixer," Ainsley chimed in. "That has to come with some amount of skullduggery and cloak and dagger, I would think."

"See?" I told him.

He shook his head at both of us.

"I need one of those sticky GPS things for Gemma," she commented. "I had no idea she was even out of her chair until I looked up and realized first, that she was gone, and second, that she was doing her Jack Sparrow run through the crowd to reach you."

I was chuckling as we all got on the elevator. Before I got off with my new favorite family, Ash gave me a kiss and was smiling as the doors closed between us.

"Who won the boyfriend lottery?" Ainsley asked as we walked down the hall toward their room. "I'm going to say you, sir."

If only it were true.

Once Gemma was down, which took a few minutes because she wanted me to stay while she changed into her pajamas and then needed me to tuck her in, as soon as I kissed her on the forehead, she rolled over and fell back to sleep.

"You really are the baby whisperer," Ainsley told me.

I said my good-nights then, hugged both Ainsley and Jeff, and was out the door quickly.

When I got upstairs, halfway down the hall I saw that the door was open. Since I couldn't think of a reason why that would be, I sprinted there fast, and when I slipped inside, I could hear raised voices from the bedroom—technically, one person yelling. Ash. Closing the door, I rushed toward the sound and arrived in the room to find a man putting on his clothes that were in a pile on the floor.

"Are you sure you want me to keep putting things on?" the guy asked Ash in a leering, seductive tone.

"I want you to get the fuck out!" Ash rasped, and I noted he was shaking as he paced at the end of the bed, looking pale and anxious.

"What's going on?" I asked him.

He jolted like I'd scared him and then rushed over, putting his hands on both sides of my neck, staring into my face. "I swear to you, I didn't know this man was going to be in our bed when I?—"

"You were in our bed?" I roared, pulling free of Ash's hands and charging the guy.

The guy swiped his shirt, suit jacket, socks, and shoes off the floor and bolted out of the room with just underwear and pants on. I followed fast, catching up near the front door, bodychecking him hard so that he was slammed face-first into the wall to the left.

"What the fuck, man?" he yelled, sounding a bit terrified. "It was a joke."

"Yeah, it was hilarious," I barked, holding him still with my forearm pressed between his shoulder blades. "I'm laughing my ass off, can't ya tell?"

"The guy said I'd get the chance to fuck Ashford Lennox. How could I turn that down?"

"I get it, I do," I said, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket.

"The hell are you doing?" His voice was rising in panic.

"If you move off that wall, I will call the police on you"—I had his driver's license out now—"Robert Doolin."

"It was a joke," he repeated as I took a picture of his ID. "You can't do?—"

"I can. You illegally entered this room with a stolen key that I want right now."

He pulled it from his other back pocket and held it out to me.

"No, put it on the side table right there."

He did as told, then turned to me, face scrunched up, looking like he was about to crawl out of his skin.

"I'm going to have that dusted for prints if you don't tell me who gave it to you."

"What're you, some kind of cop?" he asked as I tossed him his wallet.

"No, I'm some kind of FBI agent," I told him, scowling for emphasis. "Whoever gave you that card had you unlawfully entering the room of a federal agent."

"Fuck," he groaned loudly, beginning to fidget, shifting from one leg to the other. "I didn't— You gotta?—"

"Tell me who gave you the key," I pressed him. "And don't lie to me because you go to jail for five years for lying to an FBI agent."

And that was true, a fact I knew because I had a buddy in Chicago, Spencer Crouse, who actually was an FBI agent, and I remembered random crap he told me.

"I swear to God I didn't get his name."

"What did he look like?"

He sucked in a breath. "Tall, blond guy, handsome, rich."

That could have been a lot of people, but there was one blond guy in particular who would have enjoyed getting Ash to screw around on me. One more opportunity to show me how disposable I was.

Using my phone to look up Damien Morrow's law firm in Chicago, I pulled up his picture and showed it to Robert. "This him?"

Sharp exhale. "Yes. Thank God. That's him, I swear."

"Okay," I said, taking another step back. "Get your shit and go, and don't come back."

"No, man, I won't ev?—"

"And listen," I began, and he froze, waiting. "Don't do this again. You don't know who's got a gun and who doesn't, and you don't know who has a crazy-jealous boyfriend with a hair-trigger temper. If I shot you in here, you were breaking in, right?"

The color drained from his face then, and I enjoyed that.

"Use your head, man," I told him, my voice cold and dark. "If you'd put your hands on Ash Lennox… I don't have a gun, but I have a knife that would do just as well."

He was going to start crying, I could tell, so I gave him a dismissive wave, and he picked up his clothes and shoes and bolted for the door. I made sure to lock it behind him, wishing it would slam. That would have been far more satisfying.

Back in the bedroom, I found Ash sitting on the floor, against the wall next to the dresser, face covered by his hands, shaking. For a second, I was terrified and couldn't move. What if that guy had been someone else, bigger, stronger? My brain was flooded with could haves , and I promised myself that until I wasn't his guardian anymore, I would not leave his side for a moment.

When he looked up at me, I wasn't sure what I saw cross his face. Anger, disappointment, pain? Did he think I should have hit the guy? I had no idea what I was looking at. But because I was not the kind of person who ever let things go or didn't delve, I strode over to him, went down on one knee, and ordered him to tell me what was wrong.

He only stared at me.

"Please tell me," I asked gently, cupping his cheek.

Quick breath like he was trying to settle his nerves. "I didn't know that man was in our bed until I walked in here."

There had to be more. "Yeah, I know. You said."

"But it's true," he insisted.

I nodded slowly. "And I believe you."

His gaze was locked with mine. "You do?"

"Of course I do. You've been nothing but upfront about your interest in me. Why would I think you changed your mind?"

"But you said if you found anyone in?—"

"No," I corrected him. "I said if I found you in bed with anyone else, you would be relegated to the small bedroom."

His brows furrowed.

"You weren't in bed," I pointed out. "The only thing you have off since the last time I saw you is your jacket."

"Yes," he agreed, still looking a bit out of it.

"I don't think for a second that you called someone and set up a playdate when you had no idea how long I'd be gone. That makes no sense unless you think I'm the kind of guy who enjoys watching his partner get fucked."

"Partner," he whispered.

"And for the record, I am not. That might be a little vanilla for you, being from LA and all, but I'm very traditional with respect to relationships. Two people in bed at one time is the most I can handle, and honestly, all I want."

"Me too."

"You too what?" I moved then, sitting beside him, stretching my legs out, sliding my arm under his so I could hold his hand.

He looked at me. "I only want two people in bed."

"Okay, good. Then we're agreed."

"What if I had screwed that guy in the past and you came in and he was naked in the bed? What would you think then?"

"Is this a question for future me?"

"No, I—what would you have thought if he was here in the bed, naked like he was, and you walked in?"

"Are you naked in another room in this scenario?"

"No. I'm not here at all."

"Okay. Well, I suspect it would have gone the same way it did now."

"So you wouldn't be mad at me? You wouldn't leave me?"

An idea was forming in my head. "This is what you were telling me about before, isn't it? When your guy found an old fuck buddy in your bed."

He nodded.

"And when you tried to explain, your guy wasn't buying it."

"No."

I leaned my head on his shoulder. "Well, I do. We've been open and upfront with each other from the start, so we just need to keep doing that. Together."

"Yes, together," he agreed, lifting my hand to kiss my knuckles.

"But we do need to strip that bed because God knows what kinda cooties Robert had."

"Robert?"

"Yeah. I checked his ID."

"Why?"

"Because I need to follow up with the person he got the keycard from."

"I didn't even think about that."

"That's why you have me."

"Yes."

"I also think you were focused on what I was going to think and do and not so much concerned with Robert."

"I really was," he replied, his voice thready.

"Well, don't be."

He nodded. "I love that you trust me."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"That's right. Why wouldn't you."

We were quiet a moment, just looking at each other.

"But really," I reiterated. "We need to call housekeeping."

He chuckled softly and moved so he could put an arm around my shoulders and pull me in tight.

"I'm not kidding. I'm not sleeping on that bed without new sheets."

"I know, baby. I'll take care of it right now." He kissed my cheek and got up to call. I noted that he stared at me the whole time he was on the phone.

I waited for them to deliver the new sheets while Ash went to take another shower. He felt gross because the guy had stood up, naked, and tried to hug him, and he just wanted that off him. I knew it was in his head—he hadn't let the guy actually make contact with him—but if it would make him feel better, I told him to go scrub himself clean.

The sheets and blankets came, the maid took the old linens with her, and I locked us back in for the night. I had the bed remade by the time he emerged with a towel around his hips, using another to dry his hair, and something about the way he looked at me, with both desire and hope, formed a lump in my throat.

"I was so scared you would think something stupid."

"Not me," I assured him. "C'mere."

He moved quickly, and when he reached me, I hooked a hand around the side of his neck and yanked him toward me. I took his mouth, and he parted those soft lips instantly, wanting the frantic, desperate kiss, my tongue, and my dominance. I could practically taste the yearning and devoured him in turn, feeling that overwhelming desire to claim what he was offering.

When I broke the kiss, I pulled the towel out of his hand and dropped it to the floor, and then tugged the one around his waist free before turning him in my arms and shoving him down onto the bed.

"Hands and knees," I ordered, my voice husky, my breathing rough, yet being careful not to scare him.

He scrambled to follow directions, and then nearly shattered my control when he looked over his shoulder at me. "I'm all yours."

I shivered just looking at the gorgeous slope of his back, his perfectly round ass, muscular thighs, and long legs. "I don't want to be too rough or?—"

"Just…please." His words came out choked, in a hoarse whisper. "I want you so bad, I'm aching with it."

"I feel the same," I said, walking around the bed to the nightstand where I'd put my lube earlier, grabbing a pillow as well, and watching as a shudder ran through him. "What's wrong, honey?" I asked, sliding a hand over his ass and tossing the pillow beside him.

His moan was filthy. "You have no idea how dark and wet your eyes look."

I grinned slowly. "I hope that's a good thing." I got on the bed behind him, then bent and licked over his hole.

"Cooper!"

The yell was muffled because he'd fallen forward, face pressed to the pillow he used to not let the entire floor know my tongue was in his ass. When I parted his cheeks and began the long, slow licking and sucking, there were more curse words shouted into the memory foam.

I used my tongue, my mouth, relentlessly, hungrily, enjoying every second of him writhing, lifting his face to call my name and fisting his hands in the comforter. I pushed inside as deeply as I could, feeling the muscles loosen with every push and retreat.

He trembled hard in my hands when he heard the snap of the bottle opening, and then when I added two lube-slicked fingers to his ass, he cried out.

"Is that okay?" I needed to be sure. Always.

"Oh God, yes," he said, his voice thick and guttural, sounding drunk.

I used my fingers gently but insistently, in and out, stroking him over and over, adding my tongue, finally reaching under him and taking his cock in hand.

"Cooper," he nearly snarled, and the sound of him, almost angry with need, took every drop of control I had not to simply take him. "Fuck me now!"

Straightening up, I took hold of my steadily leaking cock and slathered it with lube. Bending forward, I kissed the small of his back before notching the head to his entrance, and was met with no resistance as I pressed into his body.

"Please," he whispered, and since I trusted him, as we'd promised to be honest in all things, I pushed in steadily until I was buried to the hilt.

He felt incredible, tight and hot, his muscles contracting around my length. "You feel so good," I barely got out, the words catching in my throat.

"You have to move," he rasped, and I could hear his need the same as I could feel the thirst coiling in my gut. "Be done with being careful. I want all of you right now."

I wasn't going to make him tell me again or beg or plead. That wasn't us. I eased back a fraction, then thrust inside, deep and hard.

"More, Cooper," he crooned.

I lost myself then. The sound of him, the pull of his body, the heat, his smell…I was hammering into him in moments. The pounding was endless, I loved every second, and when the rush of my impending orgasm heated my skin, rolling up my spine, I pulled out quickly.

"Have you lost your mind?" he roared at me.

"I want to see you," I said, rolling him to his back, taking the pillow from his hands and shoving it under his hips. "I want to see your face, your eyes. I want you looking at me the whole time."

"Yes," he answered, the sound of him, languid and ready, pulling me to him as I lifted his legs over my shoulders.

I held his gaze as I slid easily back inside his warm, willing body, and when I thrust and he clenched around me, wanting me in deeper, needing me not to pull back, only push, I willingly complied.

"Grab hold of your cock," I ordered.

"I just want your mouth," he husked, lifting, and I bent and kissed him, my tongue taking absolute possession of his while I lost myself in him and drove home.

His muscles tightened like a vise around my length, rippling, clenching, and there was thick, wet warmth between us as I rutted through his orgasm and my own.

Coming inside a lover was something I loved and treasured, and because of that, with my heart constricted with tender feelings, I didn't think, just collapsed on top of him, driving myself that much deeper inside him as I pressed him down on the bed.

Arms and legs wrapped me up tight, and my face was pressed into the side of his neck as we both panted and tried to breathe. Honestly, it wasn't all that necessary, only the closeness was, the connection.

Once I could hear his breathing even out, I lifted up slowly, taking time and care to ease as gently as I could from his overly sensitized channel. When I finally looked at his face, I was surprised at the narrow slits of green regarding me.

"I should go get a washcloth to?—"

"No," he whispered, catching my shoulder with one hand, my bicep with the other. "Lie down. I want your skin next to mine."

I moved fast, and his husky chuckle was my reward. Cuddling after sex was my favorite and something very few people wanted to do. I loved the aftermath of sex. The lingering musk of two people moving together, wet spots on the sheets that had to be navigated, and flushed, sweaty skin. I never wanted to leave the bed, just stay there, joined, breathing in tandem.

"I just want to lie here," he whispered, rubbing his chin in my hair.

"Yes, please," I whispered back.

"You're in trouble, you know."

"Why?"

"I get attached quickly."

"Oh, that's horrible," I murmured. "The most beautiful man I've ever met, who also thinks I'm funny and?—"

"—sexy and hypnotic and great in bed," he added. "Don't forget any of that."

"No, no, I won't. But would it be so terrible if you got attached to me?"

"I live in California."

"Which is lovely, but Chicago has its charm."

"Does it?"

"It has me, and you would like my parents."

"I suspect I would."

"I have a reading nook you could sit in under a blanket."

"Remembering what Ainsley said at dinner. Very smart."

"I try, but really, you could always visit when you're between movies and guys."

"Movies, yes, guys… I don't know about guys, Cooper Davis. I'm sort of smitten at the moment and would like to see where this goes."

"Smitten is good," I said, sighing into the side of his neck.

"Stop. You're giving me goose bumps."

I rumbled out a sound instead and then bit him gently.

"Fuck," he moaned, bucking against me.

Rolling him in my arms, once my chest was plastered to his back, I pushed one arm under his head so he could use my bicep as a pillow, and slid my left hand over his hip and down to his shaft. His breath caught when I began stroking him, and I liked the feel of him slowly thickening in my hand.

"I'll be so gentle," I murmured as I kissed up his nape and slid my length between his cheeks, and then against his entrance.

His noise of wanting was low and decadent, and he pressed back, taking me inside at the same time I pushed forward. As he was still slick and stretched, I was seated in moments, working his now rock-hard erection in my hand as I pumped up into him, loving the feel of him impaled on my cock as I moved my arm to wrap around his neck, holding him still.

"All yours," he whispered as he came, spurting over my hand, back arched, ass filled as I emptied what little there was left into his body.

We stayed like that, fused together, resting my head against his, the two of us content to simply listen to the other breathe. It was terrifying because I felt like he belonged to me, and how stupid was that. He was famous. I was nobody. Getting attached was idiotic, and yet…when he turned his head for my kiss, I let him taste my heart on my lips without caution. I told myself I would fix it later, be careful when I didn't have all his silky skin pressed to mine.

When I eased from his body the second time, I meant to pull back, to roll away, maybe even get up, but he was faster, turning to face me, arms around my neck, pulling me close. I returned the embrace, crushing him to me, and it was as though his heart was beating in my chest. When he kissed me, it felt like fate. I didn't question anything, just held on. It didn't escape my notice that he did the same.