Chapter 1 #3
“Do you see a TV in here?” Sebastian said defensively.
He was neck-deep in cases, and all the media information he needed for them was already available.
He didn’t have any other reason to bother spending precious free time reading scandalous propaganda.
He had even less time for mindless TV. “Let me guess; you want him out.”
“I did pick you for a reason, Sebastian. I like a man with brains.”
Sebastian pulled his laptop towards himself and slipped his glasses back on as he pressed the space bar to take it out of sleep mode. ”Was he caught in possession of anything?”
“No. But there was a substantial amount of drugs in the house with him.”
Sebastian found an article and quickly speed-read it. He shot Hunter a look. “There are four of them, and you want me to defend the one that mouthed off to an officer?”
“Everything you need to know is in that file.”
Of course. Minimal information. Sebastian's favourite.
Hunter checked the sleek black sports watch on his wrist. “I want this wrapped up quickly, Sebastian. By Friday.”
“That's two days from now.”
“Yes, I'm aware of how the calendar works.”
“I don’t have time, Hunter,” Sebastian said with irritation.
The corner of Hunter’s mouth tipped up. His dark-green eyes looked like an almost fluorescent gas under the dim light; it made him look even more dangerous than normal. “Make time.”
Hunter paused at the doorway. “I would consider this one a personal favour.”
Sebastian blinked as the door closed behind him. What the fuck? Personal?
Sebastian groaned loudly and leaned back in his chair, tipping his head back. An hour later, he was fed up with how little information he could find and the amount of ass-kissing he was going to have to do to keep it out of court and get it out of his hands by Friday.
Fuck it, he was going out for a drink. Everything could wait.
Five hours was Peyton’s limit. He could only sit opposite Quinn—with his gorgeous fucking face right fucking there— for so long before he went mad. And it had been five hours and two minutes to be precise.
Will had messaged him half an hour ago, confirming that he was done for the day and was on his way home. Peyton was more than ready to join him.
He said goodbye to his parents and his brothers, wished his brother Riley another happy birthday, and even managed a curt nod for Quinn before he grabbed his jacket and got out of there.
He was at his car door, thinking he’d gotten away scot-free when he heard, “Peyton, wait,” and his entire body flushed with heat. Damn.
Peyton took a deep breath before he turned to face Quinn, plastering on the best fake smile he could muster. “Quinn. Did I leave something behind?”
Looking at Quinn always made him feel like he was running a million degrees hotter.
He wanted to run his fingers through that messy brown hair and feel his five o’clock shadow beneath his palms. He wanted to feel those lips against his skin, get his own hands all over that lean, solid body.
Quinn was taller than him, closer to six feet than Peyton’s five nine, and he wanted to know what it felt like to tuck his head under Quinn’s chin.
Quinn didn’t respond, frowning as he searched Peyton’s face. Peyton might have a smear of cake on his face, but he didn’t think so.
“Peyton, if I’ve said something to upset you…” He trailed off as he slid his hands into his jean pockets. The movement stretched his light-blue button-down shirt across his chest, and Peyton had to force himself to look up into Quinn’s grey eyes. “I didn’t mean to, and I apologise.”
Peyton wished he could scoff at that, but he knew that Quinn meant every word.
“Upset isn’t the word I would use.” You make me so fucking crazy and every time I see you, I want to kiss you was a more appropriate and detailed description of just what Quinn did to him.
And maybe if it was just Peyton dealing with his attraction to the older detective, then maybe he could have gotten over it years ago.
But he could see the same want in Quinn’s eyes that Peyton knew he had.
Quinn wanted him too, but he held himself back, and Peyton didn’t know why.
He’d first met Quinn six years ago, at Riley’s twenty-fourth birthday dinner.
Riley and Quinn had been partners back then before Riley’s promotion.
Quinn had been seated next to him, and they’d spent the entire night focused solely on each other.
Peyton had known from then on that he was ruined forever.
Quinn was the sexiest man he’d ever laid eyes on, but it had been more than that: he’d been funny, attentive, and warm.
He had hit all the right notes for Peyton as though he’d been designed and brought to life especially for him.
Peyton had left for basic Army training at Kapooka less than a month later, with stars in his eyes and hope for the future—for his career and for a possibility of forever with a man who had made him want things that he never had before.
He’d saved himself for Quinn as he spent the next year in training.
And then everything had turned to ash in a fire of his own making.
“And what word would you use?” Quinn asked.
“Do you really want to know?” Peyton asked. He stepped closer to Quinn and trailed a finger down his chest. His knees went weak at the touch, everything in him screaming to take more, to hold on and never let go. “Do you want to know what I’m thinking right now?”
Quinn visibly swallowed. He took gentle hold of Peyton’s hand, and heat washed over Peyton. But Quinn merely removed the hand from his body and let go. “I don’t want to step on any toes, and I’m trying to do the right thing, but you’re making it hard.”
Peyton had no idea what the fuck he was talking about.
“Well, I’m sorry to inconvenience you,” he said curtly.
Even though he had no idea how he was doing that.
If Quinn was trying to say that he didn’t want to bend Peyton over the hood of his car as much as Peyton wanted him to, he was a goddamn liar.
“You’re not an inconvenience.”
“Then what am I?”
“A temptation.”
Peyton let out a frustrated breath. “What does that mean? You want it, Quinn? Then fucking be a man and take it.”
“You and I both know I can’t.”
“No, I don’t know that. Riley? Is that what this is about?
He has nothing to do with you and me, and if he has a problem, he can talk to me about it.
” As if Riley couldn’t see the way they looked at each other.
His older brother was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them.
He was one of the best detectives in Sydney for a reason, and the attraction between Quinn and Peyton could be seen from Mars. Did Quinn think he was subtle?
“There is no you and me,” Quinn said quietly.
Peyton invaded Quinn’s space, their chests brushing against each other in a way that made Peyton’s nipples harden, made all of him harden.
“And if I want there to be?”
Quinn’s hand settled on Peyton’s hip, and it was so hot it felt like it was scalding him. “The choice you’re trying to make right now should be enough for me to say no,” Quinn whispered, “but I can’t—”
“I don’t want you to say no,” Peyton whispered, swaying impossibly close. Quinn’s lips were right there, and Peyton needed to touch them more than he needed his next breath. He’d spent all evening watching them, watching him, and every inch of Peyton ached with need.
Quinn bent slowly until his lips hovered over Peyton’s. “We shouldn’t do this.”
“Yes, we should,” Peyton said. Please. Please.
Quinn pulled back at the last second before their lips could touch, and Peyton’s heart sank. Something flickered across Quinn’s gaze as he took a healthy step away from Peyton. “Have a good night, Peyton.”
Peyton didn’t respond to that because the words he had in his mind for Quinn weren’t anything good , and they certainly weren’t about wishing kindness on the man. He could feel heat behind his eyes, tears prickling at the corners.
Peyton sat in his car, staring at nothing, for a long time before he started it and roared out of the driveway.
Fuck Quinn and everything he had ever teased Peyton with and then refused to follow through on. Peyton almost hated him.
Except that he could never hate Quinn. Everything Peyton felt for him went too deep for mere hate.
Will nursed his empty glass as he waited for Peyton to come back with more drinks.
Having some drinks and dancing at a club was their favourite way to unwind, when they had time.
While they’d stopped pretending years ago that they were looking for anyone to take home—since their casual sex arrangement worked for them and meant they didn’t need to spend their weekends trolling for random hookups—it didn’t mean they didn’t like going out.
Sometimes it heightened things later, when they made themselves wait before they went home to fuck.
A few drinks, an up-close-and-personal dance, and they were ripping each other’s clothes off when they got home.
Peyton had been in a foul mood when he’d gotten home, and Will had sucked him off in the shower, but it hadn’t helped much.
It had eased some of the tension, but Will knew it was still there.
Honestly, he wasn’t sure what Quinn’s problem was.
They both wanted each other, so why didn’t they do something about it?
Peyton had asked Will once if it bothered him, and maybe it should—they’d been exclusive fuck buddies for years—but thinking of Peyton with Quinn had never been a turnoff.
The thought of it had spurred on some of their hotter sessions together.
Will figured Quinn had to have his reasons, whatever they were. He would have appreciated it if Quinn had let Peyton know what they were so he could move on, but he didn’t know Quinn well enough to approach him directly. Their relationship was purely professional.