Well, he did.
Now, the idea of not being Ciaran sat like a lump of burning coal in his belly.
He gave Ciaran an apologetic smile before continuing.
“And after my report about meeting Dylan on Constitution Dock, I’d had enough of the whispers and the way other cops laughed behind my back. I refused to bow down to them, so when I was offered this post, I figured it was a good time for me to leave Hobart.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Dylan said again. Poor kid still looked nervous, fidgety, and apologetic.
Hendrix gave Dylan’s knee a shake. “Stop apologising.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Sawyer said, giving Dylan what he hoped was a reassuring, honest smile. “It led me here. I can’t be sorry about that.”
Ciaran’s hand on Sawyer’s lower back urged him turn to face him. His smile was shy, and god, his eyes. Those copper eyes burned into him.
Sawyer wanted to lean in, right between Ciaran’s legs and kiss him so fucking bad?—
“Ugh, guys,” Fray said, his face all screwed up as if he could smell something particularly unpleasant. “You’re killing us here.”
Oh.
The pheromone thing.
“Can they really smell that?” Sawyer mumbled to Ciaran.
He hummed, low and rough. “Yeah.”
Then Tobin grunted as he pushed off the wall again, and he headed for the door. “Yeah, I’m done,” he said as he walked out, the door slamming behind him.
Fray gave Ciaran a sorry smile. “I’ll talk to him.”
Ciaran nodded, then glanced around the room. “Thanks, guys.”
They clearly took that as a dismissal, because they all began to file out.
“Thanks for answering my questions,” Sawyer said to all of them and no one in particular.
Kellan gave him a smile, at least. “We’re not going anywhere.”
But then his eyes darted to Ciaran’s as if that might not be strictly true. Before Sawyer could question that, the younger three came out of the cell door.
“Dylan,” Ciaran said gently. “I’ll come by and have a chat. I’m sorry I haven’t already. I haven’t forgotten. I’ve just been...” He winced. “Preoccupied. That’s no excuse for a leader. I’m sorry.”
Dylan smiled, and Sawyer was taken aback by just how much it changed his whole face. “S’okay, Ciar. I know. You’ve got a lot going on. Congrats, by the way. I’m happy for you. Even if he is human. And a cop,” he said with a wink aimed at Sawyer. “We should all be so lucky.”
Hendrix laughed. “How does that work, anyway? How can you, you know, without burning him?”
Ciaran growled at him, playfully, and made a feeble attempt to grab him, but Kellan ushered the three of them out the door.
Aurin was still holding Salem as he left, and the damn cat had never looked happier. Or more smug. Sawyer would have probably been hurt by the traitorous feline, but it meant he and Ciaran were now alone. Sawyer wasn’t too keen on having an audience for what he wanted to do to Ciaran.
He turned to face him, still between his legs, and pushed him back onto the desk. He ran his hands over Ciaran’s chest up to his neck, and goddamn if Ciaran’s eyes weren’t copper fire. Sawyer brought their foreheads together, noses touching, their lips so, so close. Sawyer knew once they started kissing, there’d be no stopping. His perfect lips, his fiery eyes. His mate, this bond. He wanted it all. “I want you so fucking bad,” he murmured.
Ciaran made that low, guttural sound that Sawyer felt in his core. “My self-control can only withstand so much,” he whispered, voice strained.
“Then take me,” Sawyer said. He sounded desperate, even to his own ears, but he didn’t care. “Take me to the hut and make me yours.”
Ciaran hissed, his pupils sliding into slits, his body shimmering, and knowing he was fighting for control made Sawyer hum with desire. “You want to do this? You want... me?”
