Chapter 2
Two
Cam closed the front door and leaned back against it, watching Nic soldier across their living room. He’d changed out of his dress blues and into a suit before they’d left Dulles but every other part of Nic was still on-mission.
Spine straight, shoulders back, step determined as he rolled their suitcase with one hand and held the phone to his ear with the other, barking orders. After signing the autopsy paperwork, he’d immediately started making calls, not letting Cam get a word in edgewise.
He was the FBI agent, yet it was Nic on the horn, rallying the troops.
First to Eddie, his former SEAL teammate and brewery co-owner, giving him a heads-up to keep his sidearm close and put extra security on Gravity and their employees, though not telling him why.
Then to Lauren Hall, their cyber agent team member, and Mel, former Special Agent in Charge and Jill of all trades, as he set up an all-hands meeting for the ass crack of dawn.
Never mind that the ungodly daybreak was only a few hours away.
Never mind that they’d been awake since the last sunrise.
Never mind that Nic’s father had died.
Cam got it—his lover’s reaction—mostly. When he’d gotten the call that his mother had had a heart attack, Cam had also shifted into high gear, his sole focus getting home to Boston as fast as humanly possible.
Nic was doing the same sort of thing now, focusing all his energy on nailing Vaughn, who Nic no doubt suspected for Curtis’s death.
Cam was right there with him. But when Cam had gotten that call two months ago, Nic had held him close those first few minutes after, when his mind had been a tornado of grief, fear, and regret.
Nic hadn’t allowed himself that moment yet and Cam was pretty sure he’d get a Beretta in his face if he tried to force it.
He had to proceed with caution. Pushing off the door, Cam grabbed his duffel and caught up with Nic.
He coasted a hand over his lower back, letting him know he was there, before nudging the suitcase out from under his hand.
Nic’s fingers dragged over his, lingering as he continued to talk to Lauren and Mel, and Cam internally cheered at the small breakthrough.
Ducking his chin and hiding his victory smile, Cam pushed the suitcase toward their bedroom, scaring their cat back from wherever he’d slinked out of. He turned on the light in time to see the orange ball of fluff scale the side of the bed, running from the rolling monster.
Cam parked the suitcase in the corner and stepped over to the bed, toeing off his shoes and scratching behind Bird’s ears. “Not happy to see us? Did Uncle Aidan spoil you?”
Purring, the gigantic cat spread out the length of Nic’s pillow and rolled on its side for more scratches.
Cam indulged him another minute before venturing to the bathroom, stripping down to his boxers, and starting the shower.
When the water was steaming hot, he turned to find Nic standing in the doorway.
Coat and tie gone, sleeves rolled up, he braced his elbows against the jamb, stretching. “I’m going to change and head into the office.”
No, he was not. Cam closed the distance between them. “You’re going to shower first.”
“Unnecessary.” Nic started to move back into the hallway.
Cam shot out a hand and grabbed the front of his shirt, hauling him back in. “When’s the last time you showered?”
“You know that as well as I do.”
He did. They’d showered together yesterday morning at the hotel in Norfolk, which seemed like a lifetime ago.
“You smell like saltwater and airplane,” Cam said, and Nic wrinkled his nose. Cam chuckled. “Exactly.” He tugged Nic the rest of the way into the bathroom and shifted him back against the vanity.
“You don’t smell so hot yourself, Boston.”
“Hence my state of undress,” he said, unfastening Nic’s shirt buttons.
“Hence?”
He answered Nic’s raised brow with a wink. “Your fault, Counselor.”
Working free the last button, Cam pushed the dress shirt open, admiring the torso that had become as familiar as his own.
Muscled but not overly so, sprinkled with brown and gray hair, and covered in words, numbers, and symbols that told Nic’s story, the good and the bad—emblems, sayings and teammates’ names from when he was a SEAL, the rainbow frog and trident, the stark kill count.
He trailed his hands up, over ridges and ink, eliciting an indrawn breath.
Pushing the shirt off Nic’s shoulders, Cam exposed in the mirror the part of the story he still didn’t know—the giant cypress tree inked on Nic’s back with the letters GS carved into its trunk.
A mystery, a mess Nic had called it, and not what Cam needed to be worried about right now.
There were more immediate wounds to heal.
Tearing his eyes from the mirror, he was relieved to find Nic’s closed, his head hanging slightly back. Presented the opportunity, Cam licked at the hollow of his throat and felt Nic’s words rumble against his tongue.
“Thought you said I stink?”
“You’re still the hottest piece of ass I’ve ever fucked.”
Nic righted his head, smirking. “The mouth on you . . .”
That phrase, uttered when the dirty talk turned Nic on, when he wanted more, had become one of Cam’s favorites, a challenge he’d never turn down. “Get in the shower and I’ll put it to good use.”
Nic dropped his trousers, JAG Corps tattoo flexing on his right hip as he stepped into the glassed-in shower big enough for two. “You coming?”
“Gonna get the coffee brewing, then I’m right behind you.” More of that caution. Not telling Nic to go to sleep, but if it happened to be decaf Cam brewed . . .
He started the coffeemaker, grabbed Nic’s phone off the dining bar, and ducked back into the bedroom, plugging Nic’s device up to charge. Bending, he pulled his own out of his pants pocket and texted Mel and Lauren that they’d be in around nine.
Thank God came right back from Lauren.
Take care of him from Mel.
He grabbed the open cable on the dual charger, plugged his in next to Nic’s, then headed back to the bathroom and nearly tripped over Bird, who’d made a nest in Nic’s clothes.
“Fucking traitor,” he mumbled.
Bird licked a paw and burrowed deeper.
Shaking his head, Cam focused on the man in the shower, head bowed under the showerhead. He stepped in behind him, making enough noise not to surprise but not so loud as to startle. “Massage?”
Nic nodded, and Cam, after a couple quick pumps of liquid soap, laid his hands on his back and began to knead the knots away, one vertebra at a time. As he worked his way up, Nic sank onto his forearms.
“See.” Cam nipped his ear. “I was right, wasn’t I?”
“You have to make me say it, don’t you?”
“Damn straight.” Cam smiled against the nape of his neck as he glided a slick hand over Nic’s hip, veering for his cock.
Nic intercepted him short of his target. “I have to get into the office.”
“No, you have to wind down first or you’re going to be a holy fucking terror.
Your cool, calm cover will be blown.” He was teasing and tiptoeing around what Nic really needed—to acknowledge what he’d just been through on more than a technical case level.
Cam, however, had to chip away at Nic’s outer layer first, at the walls he couldn’t help building.
Sex worked like a charm for getting him loose in more ways than one.
And there were no guns in here.
He slipped his hand out from under Nic’s, proceeding with his mission.
“I told Mel and Lauren we were headed in,” Nic protested, in words only.
He didn’t stop Cam from inching lower, from cupping his balls, then palming the underside of his cock, gliding an open hand down the length. Cam circled the head, stroked once, then backed off, anticipating Nic’s reaction to his next words. “And I told them we’d be in by nine.”
Nic whirled around to face him. “You what?”
Expecting it, Cam stepped into his space and claimed his mouth. Let the prosecutor argue that. And if Cam’s tongue wasn’t convincing enough, he counted on his fist wrapped around both their cocks to win the argument.
“You’re not playing fair.”
Cam felt the smile against his lips and grinned right back. “Never promised I would.”
Diving back into the kiss, he didn’t give Nic room to doubt or to think. He flooded his senses, tongue sweeping inside Nic’s mouth, fist stroking their cocks, bodies grinding under the hot water. Cam didn’t let up until the tension bled from Nic’s shoulders, the broad muscles going pliant.
Finally.
Cam gently pushed him back, letting the shower wall hold him up as he trailed kisses over scruff and muscle, filling his own senses to brimming. Nic wove a hand through his wet hair, massaging his scalp, and Cam groaned at the soothing pressure, tightening his grip around them.
He felt more than heard Nic’s answering groan. “You were right.”
“What was that?”
“Need you.” Nic’s voice was so rough that Cam drew back, glancing up to see what was swirling in his icy blues, but before he got a good look, Nic pulled out of his grip and turned. Bracing his hands against the wall, he shoved his ass out in invitation.
Cam couldn’t—wouldn’t—pass up the offer, knowing it was a surefire way to turn Nic out and lay him bare, which was what Cam was after, what Nic needed.
He was getting there, the first set of walls tumbling down, but he needed a final push to make it all the way.
And Cam was determined to make getting there enjoyable for both of them.
“I’ve got you, baby.” He palmed each of Nic’s firm, round ass cheeks, fingertips teasing his crack. Nic shuddered and shoved his ass out farther. Cam nestled against him, teasing, but only for a second before he dropped to his knees.
Nic’s surprised “Wh—” died on another groan as Cam spread his cheeks and set about rimming him into oblivion.
Cam liked nothing better than doing this for Nic, rewarding the absolute trust with absolute pleasure.
For both of them. He teased around the edges, speared his tongue inside, and added a finger, then two, opening him up more.
Cam grew harder with each moan Nic loosed and with each shudder that ripped through that strong, resilient body.
Shudders he wanted to feel around that part of him he’d been stroking with his free hand, his cock straining and eager.
Nic was thinking the same thing. “Up, Boston. Get inside me now.”
Standing, Cam slicked up his cock and slid inside.
A bigger shudder rippled through Nic, the last of the tension flowing out of him.
Cam coasted his hands up his back, tracing the trunk of the cypress tree and its limbs over his shoulders, before continuing the rest of the way down Nic’s long arms. Laying his hands over Nic’s, Cam tangled their fingers together against the shower wall and thrust inside him, slow and long, taking him gently, until Nic begged for release.
Freeing a hand, Cam wrapped it around Nic’s cock, stroking as he ordered, “Come for me.”
Nic groaned out a “Yes” as he shot into Cam’s hand, his elbows collapsing with his release.
Cam held him up, one arm around his chest, the other hand on his bare hip, as he pounded out his release, shouting as he came inside Nic’s tight, perfect ass.
Feeling his own knees go weak, he leaned them against the wall, resting together, kissing and touching softly as they caught their breath.
“Am I even more right now?” Cam asked between nips of Nic’s neck.
“Now you’re just pushing it.” Nic rotated his head, chasing after a kiss that Cam happily granted. They lazed in each other’s arms until the water went lukewarm, forcing them to rinse and get out.
Dried off, towel slung low around his hips, Nic unsurprisingly followed his nose to the coffee. Cam nudged him out from in front of the pot and fixed both their mugs. He handed one to Nic, who hummed contentedly, eyes fluttering closed as he took a big gulp.
Perfectly relaxed.
Finally, the time was right.
“You want to talk about it now?” Cam asked.
Nic rested back against the half bar that separated the kitchen from the dining area, staring down into his coffee. “I don’t know what to feel.”
“You feel how you feel.”
“You know what the dominant one is? Relief.” He took another long swallow before setting the cup aside, still avoiding eye contact. “What kind of son does that make me?”
“What kind of father was he?”
Head hung, Nic covered his face with his hands, and Cam set aside his own mug. Crossing the kitchen, he wrapped his hands around Nic’s wrists and gently tugged them down. “Talk to me, Dominic.”
“How?” Nic’s voice was ravaged, as were his eyes when he met Cam’s. “You almost lost your mother two months ago, and if you had, relief would have been the furthest thing from your mind.”
Cam stepped closer, holding their hands clasped between them. “If you lost me, or Aidan, or Eddie, would you feel relief?”
Gutted was the look, “God, no,” the words.
“Right, because we’re your family. Curtis wasn’t.”
Nic sagged as if it was the explanation, the permission he needed, and Cam let go of his hands to pull him into a tight embrace.
Nic didn’t cry; Curtis wasn’t worth the tears.
And Cam didn’t speak; Curtis wasn’t worth the words either.
They just held each other, letting the tumult of other emotions run their course.
Nic was the one to pull away first, resting back against the counter and reclaiming his mug. “How am I gonna get through this mess he left behind?”
Cam grabbed his mug from the opposite counter and came back to stand beside Nic. “You do what you need to do. I’ll handle the rest.”
“Cam—”
He hip-checked him. “Let your family, let me, be here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
Nic swooped in for a kiss. “I love you.”
“Because I’m awesome,” Cam said with a big smile. Mission accomplished. “We’ll get through this. It’ll all be over soon and then we can keep building our something without the threat of a nor’easter.”
“Earthquakes, Boston. This is California.”
He shook his head, then took a giant gulp of coffee. “Don’t remind me. The earth shouldn’t move without warning.”
“Welcome to my world.”