“Nope. Right here.” Jonah deftly maneuvered them so that his back was against the wall. He angled his head as Pierce’s lips moved down his neck and hoped like hell that kissing the guy wasn’t going to be a required entrance fee. He didn’t have the patience for it tonight.
“Ohhh, in public. I like that, too.” Pierce nuzzled Jonah’s collarbone. “What else are you into?”
“Getting off without a lot of bullshit and theatrics.”
Pierce’s fingers paused on Jonah’s fly, and he lifted his head, their gazes locking for a beat before he snorted incredulously and pinched Jonah’s nipple until he hissed at the sting. “Lucky you. I can turn the drama on and off at will.”
“Can you?” Jonah arched his back as Pierce pinched his other nipple, but he didn’t smack his hand away.
Pierce nodded before sliding his palms down Jonah’s body as he lowered to his knees. Under the camouflage of a hundred other writhing bodies, Jonah relaxed and let his head fall back against the wall, closing his eyes when Pierce took him into the back of his throat. He didn’t fuck around and tease Jonah but sucked him with purpose and intent. Efficient. Jonah groaned appreciatively, threading his fingers through the guy’s hair, allowing himself to be lost in the warmth and pleasure of a stranger. He needed this. This definitely should’ve been at the top of the list before sleep, and as soon as he jerked the guy off in return, that’d be the next order of business. Fuck Madi’s special tea. This was the better cure. And one that wouldn’t leave him trying to reassemble bleary memories of the night before.
Jonah drifted on the haze of arousal, grip tightening on the crown of Pierce’s head, as he got closer and closer to the edge.
He wasn’t sure what made him blink open his eyes. A disturbance in the air from somebody passing. A cool breeze in the sticky humidity of humanity.
Prickling awareness washed over his body, and he relaxed his hold on Pierce as his focus sharpened. To his left, a throuple made out. To his right, a man in a business suit pressed up against the wall as another man in jeans and a button down slid a hand down the back of his trousers. A vague sense of hollowness echoed through Jonah, and then the guy in jeans shifted back a step.
First, it was an impression that strobed his vision in flashes: messy dark strands, the curve of a jaw. And that fucking mouth. Just as dangerous closed as opened.
Jonah blinked, and when Jeans moved into his field of view again, it was all he could do to keep from shoving the guy out of the way.
Pierce made a muffled noise as Jonah shifted his hips and tucked himself away abruptly, the ache of failed release thrumming through his balls. He could stay. He could finish. He could go the fuck home. All three were better choices.
Jonah dismissed each as quickly as it came and was already halfway down the hall before Pierce’s petulant curses reached his ears.
“I’m a sucker,”Laura had said earlier. Jonah thought maybe she wasn’t the only one.
Jonah
Five and a half years ago
As Jonah entered the apartment, the hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he froze just inside the door, pocketing his keys without making a sound before easing the door shut quietly to avoid the click of the lock in the catch giving him away.
He could stand still for a long time. Hours, if needed. But that wasn’t necessary. A second later, the prickling awareness moving across his skin became more akin to an electrical hum at the sound of Cas’s laughter. It was such an alien sound. Not that Cas had never laughed before in front of Jonah, but he’d never laughed the way he was right now. Jonah cocked his head, breaking down the sound to its bones, then its very atoms—the lilting tone, the warmth. Tiny molecules of sound that would probably reassemble themselves in the back of his mind inconveniently when Jonah was trying to sleep.
Cas was comfortable, though. Whoever was here with him right now made him comfortable. And there was definitely someone here with him.
Jonah set his bag down, flexed and curled the resulting cramp from his fingers, then bent over and unlaced his boots. There were other noises coming from the living room. Pops and hisses, bells. But Jonah made none as he glided down the hall on bare feet and peered into the living area.
They sat on the couch, shoulder to shoulder, their backs to Jonah as they hunched over a pair of laptops on the coffee table. The other guy wore a headset and had golden blond curls that skimmed the collar of his tee. It bothered Jonah that he didn’t recognize the guy. He ran through his mental Rolodex of Cas’s acquaintances, trying to place him, but came up empty.
“Nonononono. That’s a stupid fucking move. Don’t do that.” Cas bumped the guy’s shoulder roughly, and Jonah felt a smile curve his lips as he launched into some technical explanation involving Brute Force Attacks, RATs, and other terms Jonah only understood a quarter of.
The kid was fucking smart, and he knew it, too, which made Jonah feel…not pride exactly—because fuck knew Jonah hadn’t had any kind of hand in that. But it was a feeling along those lines. Some kind of hazy warmth that was damn near foreign to him.
Cas could take those skills to college—Jonah had been looking into that—get hooked up with Silicon Valley bigwigs. Jonah had been looking into that, too, keeping track of his own networks more carefully lately, making note of any contacts he made that might be useful in the future.
Cas could make a good life for himself, and he could do it on the up and up, without ever having to look over his shoulder or launder his fucking money or meet hoodie-wearing assholes in shady alleys at goddamn three a.m. in the morning because sometimes clients liked to see how high Jonah was willing to jump.
Shit, Cas was smart enough, if he played it right, he could have his own company. Hire dipshits like the kid sitting next to him. Have guys like Jonah at his beck and call to do his dirty work. Except, no. Cas was too good for that. He didn’t have the heart for it. And hadn’t that been the whole point? Jonah didn’t want to think about why he kept unintentionally inserting himself in Cas’s future. Because that definitely hadn’t been in the fucking plan, either.
Blondie yanked the headset from the crown of his head and leaned toward Cas. Jonah had been gone four days, and he thought nothing of leaving Cas behind now, not the way he had at first. Maybe he should’ve, though. The muscles of his forearms tensed, then his biceps tightened with the same discomfort as Blondie hooked his fingers through Cas’s collar, tugged him closer, and kissed him, the action so familiar and possessive it definitely wasn’t the first time.
Jonah’s jaw ached, and some instinct in him flared to life, like a match touched to a line of gasoline. He wouldn’t call it jealousy, but he wasn’t sure what the fuck to call it, exactly. Protectiveness? Yeah. That was the more likely case. This fucker better not be taking advantage of Cas.
Except, it was clear that wasn’t what was happening. Cas slid his fingers deep into Blondie’s roots and gave them a playful, demanding tug until the guy’s head lolled back, and Cas’s lips moved down to his throat.
Blondie’s gaze slid in Jonah’s direction, brows shooting up, even as Jonah barked, “Caspian.”
