“Sometimes.” He seemed to ponder his next words. “Every assignment has a certain risk to it. But I knew that going in.”
“But wait… Mike said you’d worked at the same place since you were sixteen.”
Pete nodded. “That’s true.”
“But you were just a child!”
“I was. It wasn’t actually work back then, more like training. I didn’t start doing assignments on my own until I turned eighteen.”
“So, what, a few weeks ago?”
“Yeah,” he admitted, blushing.
“And the FBI is okay with you not working for a week?”
He nodded. “I already spoke to my partner and reported the man from yesterday.” Fuck, I’d forgotten about him. I should’ve been the one to report him, not Pete. Hell, Pete shouldn’t even have to deal with it alone.
“I’m sorry,” I said, meaning every word. “I should’ve helped you with that before leaving this morning.”
“You were getting my things for me. The least I could do was report my own assailant.” The word hung heavily in the air until Pete’s phone rang. He quickly pulled it out.
“Work,” he said, getting up and walking out on our balcony. Too bad for him I could still hear him from the living room.
“You took care of him? Okay. No, not right now. I suspect more victims, likely at his house. Yes, and I can come with you if needed. You got all three? Perfect. I think so. K, talk soon.” He hung up and I realized that he’d spoken the truth before. Not that I took him for a liar, but how comfortably he seemed to speak about victims and his partner ‘taking care of someone’ it all seemed like he was some sort of spy. I looked at Pete as he walked back inside the living room, wearingonly my T-shirt and white tennis socks. How the hell could this cute guy be working for the FBI?
“Want to watch the next one?” We’d watched two of my favorite movies and Pete seemed into them.
“Sure,” he replied with a smile, then snuggled closer to my side. It was torture. During the first two movies he’d been at the other end of the couch, but after he’d gone to pee, he’d returned and sat much closer to me. And now he was snuggled into my side. Like he belonged there. Like he belonged withme. He was like a stray cat who’d decided to adopt me. He seemed so content cuddled up next to me.
The movie started and so did my boner. It was achingly hard, which Pete was thankfully oblivious to. I went to the club yesterday because I’d been desperate. I needed someone I could fuck to get myagitation out. The mansion had been in the local news. One of the men living there had fallen down the stairs and died. It seemed like the house was haunting me. I’d wished for it to be mine and now one of them was dead. It seemed like fate was messing with me.
But I hadn’t gotten my fix like I’d planned. Instead, I got myself a Pete. I much preferred Pete, but he couldn’t give me what I needed, and if I didn’t take care of it, and soon, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from claiming Pete’s glisteningly soft lips.
I grabbed my phone, not caring that Pete could see what I was doing. The app I used was for people in the BDSM community, but it wasn’t always the best place to find hookups. But now that clubs were out of the question, and Ireallyneeded someone willing to do it quickly. One guy I’d chatted with yesterday seemed eager enough to meet me. I hadn’t bothered with adding a picture yet, but if he wanted one, I could easily give him that. I sent him a quick message and not even a minute later he replied.
I got up when he shared his location and shot Pete an apologetic smile. “I’ll be gone for an hour max.” I knew he’d seen my phone, but I also knew my infatuation with Pete was one-sided. Pete wasn’t interested in me in that way. He needed my comfort and a friend, butI couldn’t be his friend until I’d taken care of this burning need inside of me.
I all but rushed outside and jumped on my motorcycle. Clicking on his location I found my hookup in the direction of the mansion. Fate truly seemed to hate me.
My need had been sated but not my anger. The fucker was the one living in my dream mansion. The man whose fiancé had just passed away, and here he was already seeking out other men. But I needed a willing mouth and that’s what he was. Rough and hard was what he’d wanted, so that’s what I’d given him. Even if I was a little rougher than planned. As soon as I’d come down his throat, I was out of there. The fucker didn’t deserve to come.
The real reason I was angry?Pete. All I could see was Pete’s flushed face in front of me. If I even dared think about anyone elsemy dick lost all the blood. It wanted Pete. Damn it! How the fuck was I supposed to fix this? Pete was living with me for a week, and my dick needed to know he was off limits. And why did I have to feel guilty for being with someone else on top of everything else too?
I unlocked the door to a sight that would forever haunt me. Pete was crying on the couch, his sobs quiet but deep. He was hurting. I rushed over to him, kneeling in front of the couch and grabbed his face in my hands. “What happened?” I asked, caressing his hair.
“You picked someone else,” he sniffled. “You had me right here but you still chose someone other than me.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“I saw you texting that guy. You wanted a stranger over me, and I guess it just hurt finally seeing evidence that I’m not good enough for you.” He continued to sob into the cushion and I was left reeling.
“You… wanted me to pick you?”
“Yes!” he snapped, sitting up. “I was right here! Why not me?!”
“You’re Mike’s brother,” I replied, lamely.
He rolled his eyes, and even with tears trailing down his cheeks he managed to look annoyed. “He’s okay with it, so don’t use Mikeas an excuse. Just be honest and tell me you don’t want me so I can move on!”
