Chapter 3
Luca
“I want to go to the mailbox alone.”
“Not going to happen,” I tell a red-faced Evan with an amazingly calm voice that only years of meditation and centering practice have made possible, considering it’s our fifth standoff today.
Evan’s amber eyes practically glow with anger. “You can’t stop me.”
“I can, and I will,” I say evenly, not letting an ounce of emotion into my words to fuel his temper.
Evan huffs, puts his hands on his slim hips, and studies me. He’s trying to figure out if I’ll back up my words with action.
The answer is yes. He won’t get past the door I’m currently standing in front of without me, but I hope it doesn’t come to that.
Because to stop him, I’m gonna have to touch him.
I really don’t want to do that because the worst part of being Evan Kelly’s bodyguard is not the lack of sleep I’m clocking nightly because of Evan’s habit of muttering and pacing the small apartment while he works on the next article he’s writing, or his fondness of wonky jazz music which bores and irritates me in equal measures, or even his multiple rebellions and temper tantrum regarding my presence in his home.
No, the worst thing is fighting my white-hot attraction for Evan Kelly.
It hit me the second I saw him last week.
Twenty-something hipsters of medium build and medium height have never been my type, but then Evan opened his door.
There he was, standing there in his rolled-up chinos, black V-necked t-shirt overlaid with a beaded necklace, looking up at me with a confused half-smile on his face like he’d somehow been waiting for me, and I was finally here.
It ignited me. My reaction was the strangest mix of emotion and possessive desire I’ve ever felt. I had an almost impossible-to-ignore urge to sweep Evan up in my arms, tell I’d been waiting for him too, kiss his full, pouty lips, and then fuck him right there in the hallway.
It's an attraction on steroids, and given the circumstances, it's damned inconvenient. One, Evan hates me. He’s made that pretty fucking clear from the beginning. Two, I’m here to protect him, and wanting to see him naked gets in the way of that.
Whether Evan takes the threats against him seriously or not, I know just how much danger he’s in.
Cash says that finding Evan and bringing him to Digger is the Reivers Chicago chapter’s main assignment right now.
Neither of us can afford for me to be distracted.
This means that, even though I‘d love to let Evan go to the mailbox alone just so I could get a five-minute break from the twenty-four-seven hard-on I have from being cooped up with him, it’s not happening.
“I’ll only be gone five fucking minutes,” Evan gripes.
“No,” I tell him calmly.
Evan flashes me a look of pure defiance, squares his shoulders, and charges for the door.
It’s easy to stop him. I simply reach out, wrap my hand gently around his neck, and stop his forward motion. He lets out a faint cry of surprise as he comes to a halt in front of me.
I just made a big mistake.
His racing heartbeat pulses beneath my rough, calloused hand, and I swear my own heart responds by synching to its beat. My thumb rebelliously reaches out across his soft skin and traces the line of his jaw.
He gulps. I feel the movement under my hand, and I’m instantly hard as steel.
For just a second, I imagine giving in to the fantasy playing out in my head of my hand still around his neck, gently forcing him down to his knees and pushing his lips open.
I’d pause before filling him up. Let him feel my size and weight as I let him taste my precum on his lips.
Then after he was begging me for more, I’d fill that mouth of his that had yelled at me and called me names with my large cock, all the while telling him that I’d known all along that was what he wanted from me.
It doesn’t have to be a fantasy.
My hand tightens around his neck, but just before I start to push him to the ground, he begins the descent himself. Seeing him there on his knees for me satisfies something primal in me that I didn’t know I needed. My free hand moves toward my belt.
A loud pounding on the door breaks into the silence of the apartment. I freeze. Evan looks up at me, his eyes huge and full of emotion.
“I know you’re in there, so answer the damned door.”
Fuck. It’s Grave. I pull Evan up and release him. He stumbles back a few steps and begins to say something when another, much softer knock sounds. “We brought you dinner,” Dream calls behind the door.
“Gimme me a sec,” I say, my voice sounding thick to my ears. Clumsily, I undo the series of locks I’d recently installed and open the door to the couple carrying several bags of food.
“Sorry to just show up, but a wedding reception got canceled.” Dream doesn’t wait for an invitation and sails through the door and into the kitchen to set the bags down, Grave following right behind him. “Fortunately, the bride got caught kissing her maid of honor.”
“Fortunately?” I ask, more for a distraction from the lust that still has a tight grip on my brain and balls.
“Oh, very,” Dream answers while unpacking cartons of the delicious-smelling food. “After both families threw a gigantic-sized hissy fit, I snuck the bride and groom out so they could sit down to talk.
“Did they make up?” Evan asks, carefully avoiding looking in my general direction even though I’m standing close to Dream.
“Better,” Dream answers with a huge grin. “She confessed that she’s loved her best friend since they were in high school. And instead of being angry, the groom admits he’s relieved because he’s been secretly in love with his best man and is finally free to confess it to him.”
He twirls around and does a little dance. “Isn’t it just wonderful? It’s like Romeo and Juliet but without all the poison and tragedy bullshit.”
Grave watches Dream dance with an adoring smile, but then he turns his attention toward Evan and me, and his eyes narrow, noting the heavy tension in the room, Evan’s flushed face, and my still-heavy breathing. “Did we interrupt something?”
Dream immediately catches on to his boyfriend’s meaning and makes his own study of the two of us, but thankfully decides to give us a break.
“Shhh, Jack,” he whispers, not very quietly, then rushes toward Evan and holds out his hand. “Evan, I’ve heard all about you. I’m Dream.”
Evan looks at Dream's outstretched hand and takes a deep breath. “Nice to meet you,” he says shyly.
Dream flashes a reassuring smile at Evan. “Again, sorry we barged in and interrupted, but I suddenly had the night off and all this extra food. Jack told me about you, and I hoped I might get the chance to make a new friend.”
The look of vulnerable longing that crosses Evan’s face at Dream’s words floors me. Where is the temper tantrum-throwing journalist I’ve lived with for the last week?
“I—I’d like that,” Evan says.
Dream flashes him a hundred-watt smile. “Okay then, bestie, you should know, thanks to Jack’s mom converting me, I’m a born-again hugger, and so if that’s not your thing, tell me now, or you're about to get a lot of friendly PDA coming your way.”
I’m so busy watching the interaction between Dream and Evan that I miss Grave trying to get my attention.
“Luca,” Grave says, snapping his fingers in front of me. “I’d like to see the new security measures you installed.” I swat his hand away, but his take-no-shit expression lets me know this is a demand, not a request.
As much as I don’t want to have this come-to-Jesus conversation with Grave, I’m looking forward to some time away from the apartment.
I need to clear my head, and that’s impossible to do with Evan so close.
I keep flashing back to how close I came to crossing the line with Evan and how a big part of me doesn’t regret it.
I’m not sure if I want to thank Grave for interrupting us or punch him.
“You two go ahead.” Dream reaches out to Evan and pats him on his clenched fist. “While you’re gone, Evan and I will share all our secrets.”
After checking and double-checking that Evan and Dream will follow security protocol, I show Grave the modifications to Evan’s building.
Grave nods and barely looks at the new system I installed. Just like I thought, this little field trip has nothing to do with Grave wanting to check out the new tech.
He turns to me. “Are you two fucking?”
“No,” I say, taking out the cigarette and lighter in my pocket. I look at them for a long, torturous minute, then throw them both in the trashcan. Fuck em. A cigarette isn’t what I’m really craving right now anyway; it’s Evan Kelly. “You knocked on the door before it went too far.”
“Look.” Grave crosses his arms over his chest and stares me down. “I’m the last man to lecture you on forming a personal relationship with someone you’re trying to protect. I’m just telling you to be careful and make sure it doesn’t lead to a distraction that gets one or both of you killed.”
“It's not like what you had with Dream.” I run my hand through my hair. “Hell, Evan fucking hates me.”
“And what about you?” Grave demands. “Is it hate for Evan that’s got you so hot and bothered?”
“Yeah, I want him, but it’s just physical.” I look at Grave, who’s listening closely, and realize it's been a long time since I had a person I could talk to who knows and understands my past and still accepts me.
“I don’t hate him, but I can’t say I like him much either. As far as Evan goes, I’m pretty sure what almost happened between us is only because he’s cooped up and horny, and I’m the only cock around.”
“I call bullshit.” Grave arches his eyebrow. “Usually, when attraction burns that hot, hidden feelings are what’s fueling it.”
I laugh.
Grave grimaces. “What?”
I shake my head, still laughing. “I woulda never thought my old badass boss would turn into such a fucking romantic.”
Grave punches me in the arm. “Hey!” I complain, rubbing my arm. The man still packs one hell of a punch.
“Tell anybody, and I’ll have to kill you.”
With Grave, you never take a threat lightly. “Who’d believe me?” I shoot back, just to be on the safe side.
“So you plan to keep it in your pants?” Grave asks, returning to the subject of this little chat.
“Yeah, even if sex wouldn’t screw up my ability to protect him, I don’t want to be Evan’s hate fuck.
” I shrug. “Hell, maybe I’m a romantic too, but even though I’ve never come close to feeling for anybody the way you feel about Dream, I never want sex to be as meaningless as it was when I was in the Reivers and I screwed any girl who moved just to prove I was man enough to be there. ”
I sigh. “I’m just going to have to deal with a chronic case of blue balls until you take the Reivers down and Evan is safe.”
“You know we’re tight on manpower, but I can always put somebody else on Evan’s detail.”
“Don’t do that,” I rush to object. I hate the idea of someone else watching over Evan. They wouldn’t protect him like I can. Hell, if he’s as mean to them as he is to me, they might kill him.
“Don’t do that,” I repeat more calmly. “Evan is my responsibility, and I want to see this through.”
This time, it’s Grave’s turn to laugh. A sound I don’t think I ever heard when we were part of the Reivers. “Your decision, brother, but if this whole ‘I can’t say I like him’ vibe gets too out of control, let me know, and we’ll make different arrangements.”
“I’ve got it handled,” I tell him, pretty sure I’m lying to both of us.