Page 43 of Tangled With You

“I want to feel you explode inside of me. I want you towhisper that you love me. That you need me. That I’m everything to you. AndI’ll whisper it all back to you, too. Every word. Every emotion. Every decadenttouch that you think means everything. You’ll have them all. For then.”

“For then?” He tried to sit up, but Ollie’s weight onhis chest kept him flat on his back. Panic bubbled up, but he told himself tobreath. “What do you mean, ‘for then.’”

“Just like it sounds,” Ollie said, easing back so thathe was sitting upright, straddling Trevor’s waist. “You’ll have it for then.Maybe a little longer.” He reached out and tapped Trevor’s nose. “But you can’tbe greedy, babe. You can’t expect me to stay. There are other fish in the sea.Other men in the world.”

He leaned forward, his hands stroking Trevor’s barechest, then down to circle his cock. “Other men with hard abs and hard cocks.Women, too. Soft in all the right places. Do you think I want to miss out? Doyou think I’m ready to settle? Now, when I’ve barely opened the door? There’s awhole world out there—literally. You can’t ask me to just close that door. Notafter you opened it for me.”

No. No, no, no.

Trevor tried to scream the word, but he couldn’t.Ollie’s lips were on his, the kiss drawing out his soul, stealing his reason,making him weak. Alone. Lost.

His eyes fluttered shut, and a cold chill settled overhim. It took a moment to realize that Ollie was no longer on top of him, andthe cold had settled in his absence.

Ollie!

Trevor tried to scream, but the sound was only in hishead. He couldn’t get it out into the world. Couldn’t call to Ollie. Couldn’targue for him to stay. Couldn’t tell him that he loved him. Needed him.

He could only look around in horror at the empty room.At the harsh lights that made the bedroom feel like a jail cell.

He could only feel the well of loneliness looming deepwithin him as he cried out, Ollie, Ollie, Ollie.

“Hey, hey, I’m right here. Come on. It’s time to leave.”

“Don’t leave.” He heard the words, but he couldn’t wrap hishead around who was talking.

“Trevor—Trevor, wake up.” Hands on his arms. The brush offingertips over his cheek. The voice so, so gentle. “Come on, wake up. We foundhim. We’re leaving in two minutes.”

“Don’t—don’t leave.”

“Dammit, Trev. Wake up. We found him. We need to go.”

Found him.

Found who?

Ollie?

But it was Ollie talking to him. Ollie saying goodbye. Thathe was leaving. That he was walking away just like Greg had done.

So who had they found?

The words made no sense—until they did.

He sat up with a jolt, reality hitting him like that damnAcme anvil hitting the coyote. “You found him.”

“And we’re going now. Come or stay, but we’re out of time.”

“I’m in.” He’d slept in his slacks, so he slid out of bed,shoved his feet into his shoes, and grabbed his shirt as they hurried from theroom.

“You okay?” Ollie asked, glancing sideways at him as theyhurried toward the front door where two Range Rovers were waiting.

Trevor nodded, tucking his shirt in as they sprinted totheir vehicle. “Catch me up,” he demanded once they were settled in the back.He reached for Ollie’s hand. “How’d we find the guy?”

Ollie ignored Trevor’s hand, instead leaning forward to saysomething to Brax, who was driving. When he settled back, he kept his bodyangled toward Trev’s, his hands on the slim binder with the mission specs.

“It was Quince who tracked him,” Ollie said.

“But you remembered,” Mario pointed out. “I’d found a ticketstub for Wicked—you know, the musical—being used as a bookmark. Didn’tthink much of it, but logged it. And that was enough for Ollie.”