Chapter Four

The lunch he had spent with Gable didn’t ease Cutler’s confusion, not even a hair. They had spent the entire day together. Lunch had turned into talking all day before going for a ride. They had sat on the beach for a while and talked for hours before going to dinner at a small Mexican restaurant off the beaten path. It had been one of the best nights Cutler could recall having in years. Then it had ended in a strange sort of handshake, half hug thing that had felt awkward as hell. In fact, even through revealing his past, that goodbye had still been the most uncomfortable moment of the entire experience. It didn’t feel like a date. That was disappointing.

Cutler kept his eye focused on the scope of his high-powered rifle, waiting for the perfect shot. His mind wasn’t where it should be. A shipping container filled with victims waiting to be sold sat on the docks. Two armed guards stood nearby, waiting for the next leg of transport. Cutler needed all players in place. It did no good to take out the guards before the next ones arrived. That would only spook the next round of garbage, possibly bringing reinforcements before the victim recovery team could begin gathering the kids for medical treatment. These, in between moments where he did nothing but wait, always took every ounce of his patience. He wasn’t unaffected. This wasn’t just some cold, emotionless job Cutler did. Cutler wanted these guys dead.

He had been the only child of a monster. While Antinko Momarov had access to countless children at his fingertips, and savored them every chance he got, Cutler had been his favorite toy. Maybe he had also drowned his son in everything money could buy, but that bullshit meant nothing when living in a constant nightmare. Cutler wasn’t his son any longer. He was Cutler Maine. Cutler killed people like him now. His head needed to be here, where he could make a difference. Why hadn’t he at least tried kissing Gable last night? Gable hadn’t balked on the ship. He might not have last night either. Why was he acting like a nervous teenager with a crush? Was it the age difference? He was never insecure like this. Cutler was being ridiculous. He needed to work .

The back doors swung wide on the shipping container as headlights neared the dock. Through his scope, Cutler saw the huddled dirty children, shaking and wide eyed. He hated they were about to witness one more horror. Hopefully, it would be for the last time for them. Two large box trucks arrived. Men poured from the front of each. Even from his distant hiding spot, Cutler heard the loud laughter. The men were hyped to try the goods before taking them any farther. It wouldn’t be happening.

Cutler took a breath and lightly squeezed the trigger. One by one, he moved with lightning speed, taking out each target before they could run. He started with the visibly armed men, but no one else had time to even wonder what happened before it was their turn. As quickly as they fell, the recovery and cleanup teams swooped in, shielding the kids from the gruesome sight. Cutler didn’t watch. He broke down his weapon and repacked his gear before making his way to his truck. It was just another night. Once he climbed behind the wheel, he pulled out his phone.

Cutler: Job complete.

J: Awaiting the mandatory two confirmations.

While waiting, Cutler stared at nothing and went over the day again. He’d had at least four chances to make a move. Several times, they had been close, and the conversation had trailed off while they stared at each other. Surely Gable felt that too.

J: Confirmation complete. Wire transfer in progress.

Cutler pulled up his offshore bank account on his phone and checked. A new deposit with a lot of zeros appeared. He would do this for free, but money was money. There was no guarantee his father’s people wouldn’t find him someday. He would need the assets to run.

Cutler: Received.

Another night. Another successful operation. He didn’t feel any better. Cutler kept staring at nothing. He needed to leave. Soon the place would be buzzing with people, ensuring the scene disappeared like it had never happened. He liked his anonymity. Fuck it.

Cutler: Have dinner with me tomorrow night. A date, in case I’m not being clear.

He sent the text before letting himself think. Then he covered his eyes from the horror of his words. He sounded cold and ridiculous. Cutler was just so damn unsure over everything. If Gable said no, then fine. He would know, and they would never see each other again. Cutler couldn’t keep dealing with this confusion.

Gable: Was today not a date?

A smile exploded across Cutler’s face.

Cutler: I wasn’t sure since it didn’t end with the kiss I would’ve liked.

There. It was easier to be honest via text.

Gable: That was my fault. I wasn’t sure that’s what you wanted since things felt awkward as we said goodbye. I’d love to have dinner together tomorrow.

At least Cutler knew he hadn’t imagined things. Their parting had been uncomfortable.

Cutler: Good. I’ll pick you up at seven. Will that work?

Gable: That’s perfect since I get off at six .

He had known that. That was the only reason he suggested such a late meal. Cutler knew everything about Gable. He never spent time with anyone he didn’t fully research. Since finding out Gable had relocated to Atlantic City, Cutler had made a call and had a file on him in under half an hour. He knew everything.

Cutler: I’ll see you then.

Giddiness ran through Cutler as he started his truck. A smile pulled at his lips. They were going on a real date. He could go home now and sleep. His mind needed the rest.

Gable paced the floor and went over the entire day in his head. Why was he such a coward when it came to Cutler? Gable worked undercover, taking down drug dealers and murderers, for fuck’s sake. This one guy had him fucked up. Several times throughout the day, he had thought they were about to kiss before Gable caught himself finding a new topic to turn the tide. He was dumb as hell, sabotaging himself. Jesus. He really liked Cutler. The guy was sexy and smart. He was a bit dark and mysterious. Good God. He gave Gable butterflies. Gable felt younger than he had in years. He also felt stupid for his inability to be the smooth adult he normally was. Gable just needed to chill.

He stopped in the middle of his living room and stared at nothing. All he saw was Cutler’s laughing eyes. Goddamn. It had been a long time since he had been this attracted to anyone. They had a date tomorrow night. He could get that kiss this time. Gable would because he couldn’t be a pussy for two days in a row. Even Cutler had pointed out how that kiss hadn’t happened. Goddamn it.

Gable sat, feeling defeated. He relaxed into the couch and closed his eyes. God, it had been years since he felt this way. In his line of work, too often he played a role. Everything felt fake all the time. Today, everything had been real. Every smile and laugh had been Gable. Not whoever he was expected to be. It wasn’t like drinking Warren under the table, attempting to avoid unwanted sex. Cutler had his attention. He couldn’t forget that kiss. If Cutler could split his attention between kissing Gable and ensure Gable didn’t get caught leaving the ship, Gable couldn’t imagine how amazing that mouth must be when Cutler gave someone his full attention. Gable went hard just thinking about it.

Damn. He missed being touched. It had been way too long. He spent more time than he liked trying to avoid sex with people he didn’t want. He wanted Cutler. Gable popped the button on his jeans, trying to adjust the growing discomfort of his dick trying to climb out of his pants. He had so many questions. What did Cutler like? Was he a top or bottom? Gable’s hand slid inside his underwear. He was good with whatever. Years ago, he had strictly been a top. Then an undercover mission had put him in the position of having to fake being a virgin and a bottom. Since he wasn’t really faking the part about never bottoming for anyone, he was grateful the target had a kink for being the man who showed men how much pleasure their bodies could endure. A new side of him had been unleashed. Now Gable would take whatever role his partner needed. He could see himself straddling Cutler’s lap .

Gable squeezed his cock and then stroked. He bet Cutler was fucking amazing on his knees. The way that tongue had moved inside his mouth. Goddamn. Gable stroked faster, picturing Cutler staring up at him as he bobbed on Gable’s dick. Soon his thoughts turned too desperate and depraved for Gable to focus. He strained against his palm. His ragged breathing filled the otherwise quiet room. He tugged faster, needing relief from this madness.

A cry tore from Gable’s lips. Cum coated his shirt as he savored the orgasm that owned him. Cutler’s name fell from his lips without his permission. His body went limp as he tried catching his breath. Gable looked down at the mess he had made. Tomorrow. He would get that fucking kiss tomorrow. Then they would make this a reality. He couldn’t settle for less.