Cas let out a sigh when Jonah caressed his throat. “Where did you get this tattoo?”
“A shop in Moskva.”
That had been his second tattoo. He’d been nineteen and thought a skull on the side of his neck would be a good way to tell the world he’d never conform to a day job. That the skull was created from ASCII code was just for him, to remind himself that maybe he’d never live out his dream of making video games, but he knew so much more about coding and programming than he’d ever thought possible, than he ever would have known as a video game designer. He had the keys to the kingdom. Nothing was off limits to him. He was one of the most sought after black hatters out there, and he’d earned every scar and every dollar all on his own.
Jonah shifted his weight, smoothing a hand over Cas’s hip, his breath warm on Cas’s neck. “I never wanted this life for you,” he murmured.
Cas angled a glance over his shoulder at Jonah, so close it would take almost no effort at all to close the distance between them, to brush his lips across Jonah’s like he’d wanted to since he was old enough to know what it meant to want somebody. “It was never your decision to make,” he said, and could feel Jonah starting to pull away. “Don’t.” God, he hated the desperation in his voice. He pushed back until he could feel the hard press of Jonah’s cock resting against the cleft of his ass. He sucked in a breath but made no move to do more.
Jonah wrapped an arm around Cas, careful to avoid his injury, his hand splaying over Cas’s heart, his lips pressing to Cas’s throat in a barely there kiss. “Your heart always beats so fast. Like a rabbit.”
“I don’t have my meds. You know how I get without them.”
Jonah’s hand spasmed over Cas’s heart. “I’ll call my contact tomorrow.”
“Why did you come here?” Cas whispered.
“To protect you.”
“I can protect myself.”
“There’s a six-figure bounty on your head.” Jonah murmured the words into the skin on the back of Cas’s neck.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” Jonah pulled him closer. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
Cas was much less worried about being out of Jonah’s sight than he was about being out of Jonah’s arms. He had no idea what this was. Maybe Jonah felt bad for spanking him? Maybe Jonah was just horny and Cas was there? Cas wasn’t sure he cared. He just didn’t want Jonah to change his mind, even if absolutely nothing about Jonah’s behavior made sense. Was it sad that Cas didn’t want to examine it too closely? It made sense that Jonah would be the one riddle Cas didn’t want to solve.
Suddenly, the events of the last few days caught up with him, and with Jonah wrapped around him, his head went blissfully quiet. Not even the hard length of Jonah’s cock pressing against him was enough to keep him from drifting off to sleep.
12
Jonah
Jonah didn’t know how Cas liked his coffee. Technically, Jonah wasn’t even sure Cas drank coffee—he’d always ignored the pot in the kitchen when he’d lived here before. But, considering his obsession with caffeine, Jonah figured he must. That was the natural progression of things, right? Adulthood. Responsibility. Caffeine. It bothered Jonah that he didn’t know, though.
Pushing down the plunger on the french press he’d found buried in a cabinet, he watched the water darken and swirl, then poured two cups, doctored one, and took both with him down the hallway. Cas had left the bathroom door cracked, and Jonah could smell his own soap scenting the steam that wisped through the crack. A sliver of heat snaked through his gut at the idea of his soap on Cas’s skin, and he stood there for a second debating before calling out, “Did you find the towels?”
“Yeah. So glad you pointed it out because otherwise I never ever would’ve thought to look in the cabinet where we always kept them before.”Smartass. Jonah ground his teeth together, but before he could interject, Cas moaned. “Ohhh, do I smell coffee?”
“Yes.”
“Is there enough for me?”
“Yes.”
“Are you standing there holding my cup?”
“Yes.”
Why did Cas’s laughter have that effect on him, Jonah wondered. He’d never noticed another person’s laugh in his life. But Cas’s had a way of permeating the atmosphere. Like a physical thing that enveloped him.
“Are you going to bring it in?” Cas asked when Jonah didn’t say anything else.
“I wasn’t planning on it.” Which begged the question of what the fuck he was doing standing there with it in the first place.
“Well, could you?”
