It had been good. Better than good. Not just the sex—though, God, that had been incredible—but the quiet after. Bryce hadn’t pulled away, hadn’t made excuses or reached for distance. He’d curled close, one hand splayed low across Tom’s stomach, and stayed.
Zack had always rolled away afterward, checking his phone, already halfway back to work mode. Tom had pretended not to notice, not to care. He’d been very good at pretending, once.
But this was different. Tom closed his eyes again, letting himself just feel it for a while—the warmth, the weight, the slow contentment that curled through his limbs. He hadn’t meant to stay. He should have debriefed Jax last night, run through what he’d noticed about the ranch’s defenses. But Jax rarely listened to him, Steadman wouldn’t arrive until late afternoon, and there was still time. Not much, but enough.
He couldn’t regret it. Not this.
Eventually, Bryce stirred behind him. He tightened his hold around Tom’s waist, and nosed in behind his ear.
“Morning,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep.
“Morning,” Tom replied, low and a little hoarse. Bryce’s hard cock nudging against his ass would do that, apparently.
They lay there a few moments more. Then Bryce’s lips brushed the back of his shoulder. “You good?”
Tom smiled, although Bryce couldn’t see it. “Better than good.”
“Mm,” Bryce said, voice still gravel-edged and lazy. “Just checking.” He trailed his fingers lightly down Tom’s chest, slow and seemingly reluctant to stop. “You staying for breakfast?”
Tom’s reply was lost in a gasp as Bryce tweaked his nipple.
“Yeah,” he got out at last, turning over and reaching up to bring Bryce’s head down to his, needing to kiss him. Needing Bryce’s tongue in his mouth, until Tom was helpless and panting with the need for more.
Bryce kissed him slow and deep, like they had all the time in the world. His hand slid lower, fingers tracing lazy lines across Tom’s skin, teasing with promise. Tom arched into it before he could stop himself, need sparking again like dry tinder.
“Still good?” Bryce murmured against his mouth.
Tom didn’t trust himself to speak. He just kissed him harder in answer, fingers curling in Bryce’s hair.
Coffee could wait. So could the councilors. Right now, there was only this—skin, heat, and the slow, delicious build of something he hadn’t let himself want in a long time.
Chapter Fifteen
BRYCE
He didn’t mean to watch Tom get dressed.
Okay, that was a lie. He meant every second of it. But it wasn’t just the long lines of his back that made him unable to look away, or the way the morning sun caught the muscles of his arms and shoulders, touching them with warm gold.
It was the ease of him. The quiet confidence. Now he was rolling down his sleeves with methodical care, smoothing the cuffs of his pale-blue shirt before doing up the buttons. When he looked up and caught Bryce watching, he smiled, a small, private thing that made something twist in Bryce’s chest.
“You want coffee?” he asked.
Tom nodded, his mouth curving just a little more. “Just so you know, the answer to that question is always yes.”
Bryce laughed as he reached for his t-shirt.
The coffee didn’t take long. Just a few minutes in the kitchen, which was strangely empty for the time of day. Tristan,Jason and Riley were at school and work, no Christian and Dave, and Matt and Jesse were undoubtedly wringing every last moment of peace out of the day they could. And Karl would be out there on the perimeter, guarding them all, the way he always did. He’d picked up the slack with Christian and Dave away, and Bryce was beginning to wonder just when he was fitting in any sleep.
Tom leaned on the counter beside him, looking more like he belonged here than any council rep had a right to.
Bryce poured them each a mug, then nudged one toward Tom. Their fingers brushed, and though there wasn’t the same intense spark as last night, something still pulled taut between them.
“You sleep okay?” Bryce asked, keeping it light.
Tom nodded, sipping. “Better than I have in a long time.” He paused. “You?”
“Yeah.” He meant it. The bed had been warmer. The steady presence beside him had stilled something in him. Even in his dreams, he hadn’t been alone—Tom had run beside him under the moon.
