He stood, approaching the other side of the bed where both men had disappeared, and extended a hand to Toby, who lay sprawled on the floor panting next to Rocky’s motionless body.
Toby lifted a finger. “Just a second. Lungs are still trying to catch up.”
Soren crouched next to Rocky’s feet as Toby rolled to a sitting position. “Guy was a fighter. You did good.”
Were Toby’s lips curling at the praise? Soren could think of some other ways he could put that tendency to use and was about to tease the doc when Toby made an odd grunt and flew backward.
Soren had a knife in his hands in seconds, but before he could lurch forward and get it into Rocky, a sickening crunch sounded and Rocky went still again.
Toby sat up, shaking out his hand.
“Jesus. You break it?”
“Unlikely. I have a lot of experience punching things.” Toby offered a wan smile.
Soren’s brows pinched together in return, and he reached out, taking Toby’s hand, examining the split in his knuckles. He swept his thumb lightly over the wounded skin, glancing up to meet Toby’s eyes when he hissed sharply. “Always check for a pulse.”
Instead of getting defensive like Soren thought he might, the doctor nodded. “Crucial step, and I forgot it.”
“It’s all right.” With one last lingering caress, Soren let go of Toby’s hand. “We can clean this up back in the room.”
“We need to wipe down the guy’s face, too, in case I got blood on him.”
They straightened the room and wiped down surfaces thoroughly, though Soren didn’t imagine there’d be much of an investigation on Rocky’s behalf. The guy was as clean a kill as you could get, a known menace to society, an abuser of various things, including humans. He had no family members anywhere close by, much less any who’d claim him.
They left the same way they came in, Soren shutting the window behind them.
Back in their drab motel bathroom, Soren took the wet washcloth out of Toby’s hand and dabbed gently at his knuckles, examining the splits carefully. They weren’t deep and would scab over shortly.
“That’s what I get for skimping on my moisturizing routine.”
“It’s important for murderers to have soft hands, yeah,” Soren teased, the back of his neck warming when Tobias looked up, their gazes catching and a soft smile on his lips. “That one right there, Glasses.”
“That one, what?”
“That smile. It’s my favorite one of yours. The real one.”
The smile ebbed and was replaced with a frown. “There’s nothing about me that’s real.”
“Not true,” Soren countered with a shrug. “I see it.” Toby’s brows pinched together, and he let out a quiet hiss when Soren swept his thumb over the cuts again. “Think I got some stuff in my bag we can put on this to heal it up a little faster. I’ll take a look after I shower. Want to hop in with me?”
“I’ll wait until you’re done. It’s not big enough.”
“It could be, depending on how we positioned ourselves.”
Toby’s pursed lips gave way to a smile. “Relentless.”
Soren winked. “It’s part of what makes me good at my job.”
Ten minutes later, he stepped onto the bathmat, dried off, and strolled into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. Toby sat stiffly at the end of the bed, shirt removed, muscular torso on display, his trousers still on. His gaze wandered freely over Soren. “I want you to fuck me.”
Soren stopped directly across from him and leaned against the dresser, folding his arms over his chest. “No.”
“No?”
“I don’t think it should be some kinda transactional thing just because it’s something you want to scratch off your list and I happen to be convenient.” Soren frowned at himself. What the hell was he saying? Since when did he turn down a fuck or care what the motivation was? Toby seemed to be experiencing the same confusion. “If we fuck, it’ll be because we both want it, because you’re begging for it, because you can’t stand not to, and—”
Tobias reached out and tugged the knot on Soren’s towel free. It fell to the floor in a white heap at the same time the doc slid off the bed onto his knees.
