“Don’t apologize. You’ve been through a lot. Just make yourself comfortable and take a nap.”
My eyes grew heavy. “Are you sure?”
He chuckled. “Absolutely.”
A wave of fatigue rolled over me, and I did as he had suggested and adjusted my seat until I was truly comfortable.
“Sleep, Charles,” Eamon said softly.
Warmth flooded me, and with a last exhale, I fell asleep.
FOUR
EAMON
Watching Charles sleep was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because the poor lad desperately needed the rest after the day he’d had. A curse because it gave me far too much time to study the way his lashes fanned across his cheeks, the slight part of those lips I was already dying to taste, and the compact body that was making me think very unprofessional thoughts about my assignment.
Anyway, with Charles fast asleep beside me, I didn’t have to worry about him noticing the traffic mysteriously disappearing around us. Look, patience wasn’t my strong suit to begin with—three hundred years on this Earth, and I still hated waiting for anything—and inching my way through New York City during rush hour with a mobster potentially hunting my protectee? Hard fecking no. That would be too much for a saint, and El knew I wasn’t one to begin with.
So I used a little power to clear a path for us. Nothing too dramatic, just encouraging other drivers to change lanes, get out of my way, or take different routes.Soon enough, we’d left the city behind, and I felt the tension in my shoulders ease slightly.
NJ-17 was still packed with the usual parade of assholes who thought indicators were optional—personally, I felt New Jersey drivers were the worst in the US—but by the time we hit the I-87, things were getting calmer. Good. There was only so much cheating I could get away with before Charles started asking questions I couldn’t answer, and he was already suspicious enough of my detective act.
Charles was far more observant and perceptive than I had given him credit for. He’d caught me in several lies and blunders, and I winced as I thought of the scolding Gabriel would give me over the case review when this was done.
Why did I have to get stuck with the hardass as a supervisor? Rafael was so much nicer. Sure, he’d give you a lecture when you fucked up, but he’d also buy you a pint afterward and forget all about it. Michael could be strict, too, but he was so damn hot with those dark eyes and that whole warrior-of-El thing going on that it was much easier to forgive him when he got all commanding. Plus, Michael at least had a sense of humor buried under all that righteous authority.
Gabriel didn’t do nice. I doubted he even knew what the word meant, let alone how to spell it. The man—angel, whatever—was all business, all the time. No charm, no wit, only endless rules and regulations delivered in that clipped, disapproving tone that made me want to do something even more rebellious just to spite him.
It was a hell of an adjustment after decades of dealing with Rafael’s easygoing nature and Michael’s fierce but fair leadership. Their admonishments had rolled right off me like water off a duck’s back, which was probably why I’d been transferred to Gabriel’s department in the firstplace. There had been someincidents,though I preferred to think of them as misunderstandings. Several, actually. Maybe more than several, if I were being honest.
But I didn’t want to think about that shite. I wanted to think about the cute, sexy guy next to me and the fact that I’d be acting as his boyfriend for the foreseeable future. As much as I genuinely wanted Charles to be safe—and I did because, despite everything, I did take my job very seriously—I was in no hurry to solve this case. The more time I got to spend with him, the better.
Maybe I could persuade him to consummate our fake relationship? The thought had merit. I mean, we’d have to sell the charade convincingly, right? And what was more convincing than actual physical intimacy?
El in heaven, just imagining burying myself in that glorious bubble butt had me hard in seconds. The way his jeans hugged those perfect curves, that delicious blush on him, how he’d confessed he liked it a bit rough—Jesus fecking Christ, I was already desperate to have him, and we’d barely spent a few hours together. Not that getting aroused took much effort on my part, but still. This was different. More intense.
I’d have to be careful though. Sleeping with a protectee was exactly what had gotten me into trouble with Gabriel the last time—and the time before that. That scolding had not been fun. Three hours of lectures about “professional boundaries” and “appropriate conduct” delivered in Gabriel’s most disapproving tone. The least he could’ve done was throw in a little spanking if he was gonna go all stern Daddy on my arse. Would’ve made the whole experience considerably more enjoyable.
Anyway. I could totally see myself spending somequality time in—I mean with—Charles. That arse was worthy of Shakespearean sonnets or some shite.
Though the Song of Songs in what humans call the Bible was pretty hot too, now that I thought about it. That whole “your breasts are like mountains” business was so on the nose it was almost crude, but it did the job. Biblical dirty talk, who knew?
Hmm, maybe I could compare his arse to lush hills? Rolling countryside? And his smooth, pale skin to…the first thought that came to mind was a chicken breast, and I stifled a snort. Right, so maybe “alabaster” or “marble” would be more romantic. Though marble was cold, and Charles was anything but. Warm silk? Cream? Christ, I was starting to sound like one of those ridiculous romance novels with the half-naked men on the covers. The ones where the hero was always “throbbing” with something or other.
Nope. I’d better leave the poetry to others before I embarrassed myself completely. Actions spoke louder than words anyway, and I had plenty of ideas about what actions I’d like to take with the gorgeous man sleeping beside me.
Charles woke up as I took the exit for Charming. He rubbed his eyes, then stretched, letting out a deliciously sinful groan that sent my mind right back to the gutter. Putting his seat back upright, he checked his watch. “Wow!”
“What?”
“How fast did you go on the thruway to make it here so quickly? I thought it would take us twice as long.”
Fuck. Why was I so bloody bad at this? Gabriel had told me repeatedly to use my brain and think things through rather than act on impulse, but apparently, I was a slow learner. “Planning ahead isn’t optional, Eamon,” he’d said inthat disapproving tone of his. “Your tendency to wing it is going to get someone killed one day.”
Well, so far, no one was dead, but Charles was definitely getting suspicious. He was much sharper than I’d given him credit for, and my half-arsed explanations weren’t fooling him for a second. I cleared my throat. “Erm, I…” A thought popped into my head. “I got an escort from an NYPD car in the city. You know, with lights and sirens? Just so we could get through. And then I may have sped a little on I-87.”
His mouth had dropped open. “An escort? Why?”
