Kit opened his mouth, then closed it. He had expected more arguing. “Okay?”
Darius’s touch was hot against his face, lingering even after Darius stepped away. There was a calm, complete attentiveness in Darius’s expression. Strangely reassuring. Kit felt seen, in a way that didn’t hurt. He felt listened to.
And he was so relieved this hit appeared to be for Kit Byron, not another identity, he wasn’t even mad at Darius for this whole production.
“It’ll be our secret, until you say otherwise,” Darius said, fishing his phone from his pocket. “Could you give me your number? I’ll let you know when I have more intel.”
Kit entered his number into Darius’s contacts. “Great. I’ll, um. Let you know if I think of anything.”
“Thanks.” Darius took the phone back, then grinned. He looked good smiling, confident humor in every glossy angle of his face. “So, murderous new boyfriend, huh?”
Kit’s face heated. “Don’t tell him I called him that.”
Darius’s grin widened. “James wouldn’t dispute that he’s murderous.”
“No, the boyfriend bit.” Kit covered his eyes. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”
13
Personal Space
All Kit could do was clutch James’s shoulders and moan as James bit bruises into his neck. Caught between James’s hot, hard body and the cold kitchen island behind him, his blood sizzled in a welcome high. They’d barely exchanged two words since James got home and interrupted Kit’s quest for another mug of coffee.
“You shouldn’t have caffeine so late,” James murmured into his bruised skin.
“I was tired,” Kit protested breathlessly.
James laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you up all night instead.”
It had been a long fucking day. Shopping in the sun. The mentally exhausting inmate lookup. Trying to be normal while he talked to the hot blond at the library.
Getting abducted at gunpoint. Again.
At least this abduction was over pretty quickly. Though as James reached confidently beneath his shirt, tracing fire against Kit’s stomach, Kit was surprised that he felt almost guilty about the whole situation.
As if getting abducted by another hot murderer was somehow being unfaithful to James. Which was fucking insane. For onething, they’d never discussed exclusivity, and Kit wouldn’t have agreed to it anyway. They weren’t dating, just. Whatever this was.
For another, more important thing, getting held at gunpoint wasn’t cheating.
Right?
Maybe Kit should feel guilty for hiding the hit from James. Darius was right that James should probably know. If someone was after Kit, James could easily be caught up in the situation. Kit’s need for control over the narrative was selfish. Reckless. But he couldn’t help it.
He promised himself sternly that if anything changed, he would say something. For now, though, he didn’t want to interrupt date night with the wrong sort of murder.
There were plastic takeout bags on the other end of the granite island. James didn’t cook much for himself—between his businesses and his quest for vengeance, he didn’t have much free time for it. A chef came once a week to prep meals to put together later, and the rest of the time James ate out or ordered in.
“What’s for dinner?” Kit asked as James squeezed his ass through his jeans.
“Besides you?” James murmured into his ear, then bit his earlobe.
Kit squirmed. “I can live with the murder thing, but cannibalism is a hard limit.”
“Damn. I’ll have to revise my plans for the evening.” James tapped his nose and winked.
Butterflies flipped through Kit’s stomach. He was getting addicted to the way James never stopped touching him. With James’s hands on him, Kit couldn’t think about anything else.Couldn’t feel anything else—but he had to feel it. He couldn’t be numb like this, and he didn’t miss it as much as he would have thought.
“You look good today. Edible,” James breathed into his ear. “What are you wearing for me?”
