“That’s good.” Nic glided the washcloth over his cock, and Cam shuddered, bobbling the phone. Nic caught it and set it on the bedside table. “Sensitive?”
“Wonder why?” Cam grinned, and Nic’s world righted the rest of the way with that smile.
He slapped Cam’s hip. “On your side, Boston, so I can finish cleaning up the mess I made.”
Cam shimmied on the sheets. “I don’t know. I kind of like it.”
Chuckling, he gave up and pushed, not giving the agent an option. “Until you wake up in a wet spot.”
“Why must you always be the voice of reason?”
“Um, lawyer.”
Lawyers also asked questions, and as the sky had begun to lighten outside and the outline of Boston harbor appeared out of the dark, a particular topic, a worry, had weaseled its way back into Nic’s brain.
“Why’d you leave Boston?” he asked.
“The job, to be Aidan’s partner, to be in the same place as Jamie. And there was this AUSA who’d caught my eye.”
“Oh, is that right?” He rolled Cam back onto the mattress and tossed the cloths off the bed. He propped himself on his side, one leg thrown over Cam’s, head in his hand. “That the only reason?”
Cam snagged his free hand, tangling their fingers and laying them on his chest. Nic could feel his thundering heartbeat underneath.
And the rumble of Cam’s words. “Bobby almost caught me with a guy. I was out at this place in JP—Jamaica Plain—and Bobby was there late, upgrading their security system. I’m on the dance floor with two guys, hands down the pants of the dude in front of me, riding back on the one behind me, and my brother walks by not ten feet away.”
A wave of jealousy burned through Nic’s veins, making him see red.
Cam’s hand on his cheek pushed the haze away. “I’ll only be dancing with you from now on.”
“I don’t dance.”
Cam smirked. “We’ll see about that.”
“Dream on, Boston.” Nic kissed his palm, then wound their fingers together again, unable to shake his doubts completely. “But this is your home, Cameron. You’ve got a good partner in Matt and the SAC shares your professional interests. All of your family’s here.”
Cam’s fingers tightened around his. “Don’t you want me in San Francisco?”
Nic listed forward, stealing a kiss. “Of course I do, more than I should. But you’d be safer here.”
Cam glared. “We gonna have this argument again?”
Nic laughed, happy to hear Cam sounding more and more like himself again. “No. We’re not. I just want you to be happy, whatever, wherever that is.”
Cam rolled onto his side, bringing them front to front. “You know what makes me happy?”
He smoothed a hand over Cam’s hip and around to palm his ass, bringing their cocks back into rutting contact. “What’s that, Boston?”
Cam laid a line of kisses over his collarbone. “Being in the same town as my best friend. Working with the best agent I’ve ever known. Finding the person who grounds me like no other. Drinking my man’s beer and then kissing the taste of it off his tongue. You gonna tell me more about that FBI stout?” Cam tongued the groove at the base of his neck and Nic shoved him onto his back, rolling on top of him.
“It’s a work in progress, but I think it’s gonna be our best brew yet.” Smiling, he kissed Cam long and leisurely, imagining how good the new beer was going to taste on his boyfriend’s lips.
When they broke for breath, Cam was gazing up at him, a touch forlorn again as he played with the hair at his temples. “Why do you want me?” he asked. “I’m flat broke, especially living there, I pick arguments with you for the fun of it, and our sports allegiances are totally incompatible.”
Nic stared down at the man he loved, who’d bullied his way through three decades of hardened defenses. “You rescue lost people for a living. Is it any wonder you found me?”
“But you’re still hiding parts, aren’t you?”
Damn investigator, too good at his job. “Yes, because they’re not my story to tell. Will that stop you from rescuing me?”
