“I would suck your cock a thousand times.” I push up onto my knees so I can kiss him. As I lick into his mouth, I suddenly realize that leaving him is going to be a lot harder than I first anticipated, but staying is not an option. Not unless I’m ready to give up my side project, and I’m not. There’s more work to do.
“We should get some sleep,” I suggest.
Nantes nods, studying my face. “Do you want to sleep in my room tonight?”
Danger warnings blip in my head, telling me not to get too attached. This isn’t my real life, and if Nantes knew what I really was, he wouldn’t want me anywhere around him. But he doesn’t know. Not yet. Would it be better to enjoy all of this and suffer later, or suffer now?
As I focus on Nantes and his handsome face, the answer is clear. “I’d love to.”
Chapter 18
Nantes
I wake to an empty space beside me. Vanian is gone. I hope he’s not freaking out now that he’s had time for it all to sink in. He was damn good at it though, which is a promising sign. I can’t count how many supposedly straight men have lost their shit after giving head the first time. One guy even vomited. But Van seemed to take it all in stride. Maybe.
I climb out of bed and shuffle to the bathroom to take care of my morning needs. After splashing my face with cold water, I return to the bedroom and grab my sweats to put on. I listen closely as I quietly walk out to the living room.
Relief spreads through me when I see Van sitting on the couch, leaning over his laptop, the scent of fresh coffee filling the room. I creep up behind him, but pause when I see what’s on his screen.
He has an article up about Alex Fetterman, the former pastor pedophile I told him about. Next to that screen, he has a map up. Quietly, I watch him search an address on the map, zooming inon a town in southern Minnesota. He drags a hand through his hair before clicking back to the article with a picture of Alex.
What is his fascination with this case? I recall how agitated he became when I told him about it, but it’s kind of weird for it to still be on his mind.
“Morning.”
Vanian flinches, slightly closing his laptop and turning to see me. He smiles. “Morning.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay. Guess I was lost in thought.”
“What are you doing?” I ask as I round the couch to sit down.
“Just researching stuff.”
“For work?”
He nods, but his brow creases. “Kind of.”
“Kind of?”
Vanian exhales slowly, leaning back and resting his hand on my knee. “I have sort of this fixation sometimes with sex offenders. I want to know what happens to them after they’re caught. I want to see justice done. Karma, maybe. Whatever you call it.”
I nod, searching his eyes. I sense the truth in his words, but he’s still being a little sketchy. “Who were you researching?”
“Uh, this case in Chicago. One of many.”
I know that isn’t true, but I’m uneasy about calling him out on it. We always said we’d never keep secrets, but I kept a huge one from him for years. It’s fair for him to keep one of his own. Except this one is poking at me.
“I saw your screen when I first came in.”
His smile fades as his neck and cheeks flush red. “You did?”
“I’m not sure why you think you can’t tell me what’s really going on. You know I won’t judge you. Given your occupation, I don’t blame you for being interested in seeing these losers get what’s coming to them.”
Panic sparks in his eyes as he digs his teeth into his bottom lip. “Um, I…” He pauses, blowing out a breath. “I have my reasons.”
“For not telling me the truth?”
