I zoomed in and out on his map to get my bearings. “Damn it. She doesn’t seem the type.”
We glanced at each other. Both of us knew where the clues were pointing.
“Send that on to me, would you?” I asked. “And get some friends out in that area looking around. By the way—that burglary crew working the Hills. You heard anything about them moving operations further out? Malibu, maybe?”
“They had a few turnovers in Bel Air,” Freddy said doubtfully. “But I haven’t heard anything about Malibu.”
None of this news seemed good, but it was still too vague. I hoped Roxanne Rochford might give us a firmer lead to follow, but I was starting to fear the worst.
* * *
When I got home, Miller had showered and shaved and was dressed in jeans and a see-through white linen shirt that made me want to stare long enough to find his nipples underneath it.
“Hey. I better shower, too,” I muttered, keeping my eyes on the floor instead. The docks always stunk, and I felt like the miasma clung to me.
“Hello to you, too.” Miller was sprawled on the couch, flicking through the TV channels.
I stripped off my shirt before sitting on the bed to take off my shoes. My shoes were probably the nicest things I owned these days, apart from my Rolex. In my Family, shoes and watch were how you judged a man, so I had to pay out some for them. But I liked the watch. It was more dependable than a phone.
I liked the shoes, too. They were comfy.
I stood, about to take off my pants as well, when I remembered I wasn’t alone. Not onlynotalone, but I had two bright hazel eyes watching me over the back of the sofa.
“Can’t blame a guy for enjoying the view,” Miller said, and gave a slow grin.
I stripped off completely and hid a smile as his eyes got wider and wider. “Keep yourself out of trouble just a few minutes more, okay?”
“I’ll try,” he muttered. “God, JJ, will you fuck me tonight? Please?”
I just laughed and strolled into the bathroom, where I sagged against the closed door and tried to resist banging my head against it.
Would I fuck him tonight?
The real question was, would I be able to resist?
The bathroom was still warm and humid from Miller’s shower and the whole place smelled like him. He’d set his toiletries along the back of my old sink, cramping the cup that held my toothbrush and toothpaste right up to the edge. The spicy scent of his bodywash filled up my nose as I turned on the shower, and when I pulled off the rest of my clothes, I found I was half-aroused. I ignored my dick and got into the shower, although as soon as I was in there, I started thinking about how he’d been in here just a little while before, naked, wet, washing down his body…
Last night had been a mistake. I made another one then by teasing myself, running my hand along my length as I thought about Miller’s slick body, about the feel of his hole clenching on my finger last night, the soothing weight of him in my arms all night as we slept…
I took my hand off my dick and got back to washing. Thinking about fucking the kid was one thing. I’d need ice in my veins not to fantasize aboutthat. But thinking about anything more intimate than sex was not only foolish, it was dangerous.
For himandme.
Besides, I had other worries. Chateau de la Lune wasn’t just on my list ofDo Not Goplaces in LA, it was right at the top.
* * *
When I got out, Miller was still on the couch. His eyes went straight to my towel-covered crotch as I started rubbing at my wet hair with a dish towel.
“We need to—” I began.
“What are you doing?” he gasped, and shot off the couch. “Don’t fucking scrub at your hair like that!”
Bewildered, I found the cloth snatched from my hands. “Quit messing around,” I said, trying to grab it back, but Miller held it behind his back. “Fine, I’ll drip all over the damn place.”
“Sit down,” Miller said reprovingly. “You need a lesson in hair care, my friend.” He pointed me to the sofa. Rather than waste time arguing, I sat down, and Miller stood behind me. I glanced back and up.
“You better not have a garrote hidden up your sleeve.”
