Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
Cam swung the FBI sedan into the driveway beside Nic’s truck and glanced at the dash clock.
He’d seen two in the morning way too many times this week.
The neighbors couldn’t be loving it either.
Porch and interior lights blazing, their home glowed like a beacon on the otherwise dark street.
At least the police cruisers and emergency vehicles were gone by now, only Eddie’s Wrangler left parked at the curb.
Aside from their obnoxiously bright house, all was quiet and normal on their street.
No indication that they’d closed a major case, that a local gangster was behind bars, that the corrupt US Attorney was ousted, and that Nicolette Sare was safe and sound with her family.
No indication that Cam had almost lost everything—his family, his future—in the process.
After the I’m-still-alive call from Nic—thank fuck—they’d both had shitstorms to deal with on their respective ends, making further calls impossible.
He’d checked in periodically by text, but it had taken hours to get home.
From Cambria, he’d gone to San Francisco General with the Sares, then from the hospital to local lockup for booking, and from there to the office to debrief with Aidan and Moore.
When he’d finally escaped the Federal Building, he’d decided against calling ahead in case Nic had managed to fall asleep.
Nic would be keyed up, no doubt, same as Cam.
After days without sleep, he and Cam were both skating the same adrenaline-rush-exhausted edge. Cam was looking forward to his pillow almost as much as he was looking forward to fucking his boyfriend.
Correction. His fiancé.
Mind lingering in the clouds over that development, Cam couldn’t care less about the busted-up front door lock.
They’d needed to fix it for a while. Nor did he care about finding his traitorous cat perched on Nic’s lap, happily getting scratches behind his ears, while Eddie and Nic shared a couple of beers at the dining table.
Cam closed the door and dropped his bag on the couch. “Is it sooner?”
Nic lowered his bottle and turned his bruised and bandaged face toward him. One look and Cam came crashing back to earth, wincing in sympathy.
Nic’s lips tipped up in a tired, amused smile. “Much later, I’m afraid.”
Bird jumped off his lap, bushy tail shaking high in greeting as he trotted across the living room and flopped on his side at Cam’s feet. Kneeling, Cam gave him a belly scratch and surreptitiously checked out the room, assessing the damage besides that done to Nic.
Not too bad, considering. The dining table chair with the bum leg was missing—not a surprise—and the living room rug had been rolled back toward the A/V system, probably to protect it from foot traffic.
If there’d been any actual damage to it in the course of the takedown, the rug would have been removed as evidence.
Even the living room lamps, ottoman, and side tables were intact and accounted for. What remodel was Nic talking about?
“You got one of those stouts for me?” he asked, straightening.
Nic tilted his head toward the kitchen.
Bird raced ahead, hopping back into Nic’s lap, while Cam followed, crossing the living room, skirting the edge of the dining area—a hand coasting over Nic’s shoulder—before he turned the corner to the kitchen.
And ground to a screeching halt. “Holy fuck!”
“Watch your step,” Nic belatedly warned.
“Watch your step?” Cam scoffed. “Where the fuck am I supposed to step?”
Eddie chuckled. “You should have seen some of the messes he made as a SEAL. That’s amateur hour by comparison.”
Bottles clanked behind Cam, who was busy cataloguing the damage.
Both oven doors gone, several cabinet doors removed, travertine floor tiles cracked and dented, granite countertops chipped at either end, the knife block on its side, and the knives missing altogether.
And where the fuck was the cast iron skillet he always left out on the stove?
The only pan he used in the whole damn kitchen.
They’d have to ask for a new one on the wedding registry.
Silly thought, but Cam needed silly ones to chase away the much darker thoughts racing through his head.
Like how the hell had Nic fought his way out of this?
Which of those dents and cracks had he caused?
How close had he come to not making it out at all?
He steadied himself with a hand to the bar, and Nic’s touch ghosted over his lower back, reminding Cam he was still here. Banged up a bit, but he’d fought his way out. Survived. They still had their home and future together.
Cam breathed in deep, fighting back the panic that had threatened. “What can I touch?” he asked once it had receded. “Where can I walk?”
“CSU already processed,” Nic answered. “They took the doors and such as evidence. Just be careful for your own sake.”
He tiptoed around the cracks and dents, made it to the fridge, and grabbed a bottle of stout, popping the cap with the opener out on the chipped counter.
Carefully making his way back to the table, he passed behind Nic’s chair and ran a hand through his ruffled hair, desperately needing to touch him, to reassure himself again that Nic was here, to silence the worst-case scenarios running through his mind as to the gauntlet Nic had had to run.
Nic jerked away with a hiss, and Cam yanked back his hand. Nic caught it, fingers wrapped around his wrist. “It’s not you,” he said, looking up. “Took a baton to the back of the head.”
More than he’d reported on the phone or over text and more than the bruises and butterfly bandages let on. “Medics check you out?”
Nic nodded, entwining their fingers, as Cam claimed the chair next to him. “And your cut?”
Cam lifted his pant leg, showing off the bandage around his calf.
“All good. And so are Lette and Garrett,” he said, anticipating Nic’s next question.
“They’re keeping Lette in observation overnight.
” Worry sharpened Nic’s features, and Cam squeezed his fingers.
“She’s a bit dehydrated, and the ER doc was concerned about a possible concussion.
Probably nothing. She’s pretty tough, like Mel and Lauren-level scary, so I’m sure she’ll be fine. ”
“Should we go up?”
He shook his head, untangled his hand, and slumped back in his chair, taking a long swallow of his favorite brew. “Garrett and Victoria are there. We’ll go up in the morning.”
“Which is going to be here sooner than any of us want,” Eddie said. “And I’m wheels up at oh-nine-hundred.” He drained the rest of his beer as he stood.
Nic held his fist out for a bump. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Always.” Eddie next held out his fist to Cam. “You take care of him.”
Cam bumped back, chest warming at being included in Nic’s SEAL and Gravity family too. “I mean to.” His gaze strayed to Nic, constantly checking that he was here, that he’d survived, that this case was behind them and this was their new reality. Fiery blue eyes burned back at him.
“Aww, fuck.” Eddie waved a hand at both of them. “You’re not even married yet, and you’ve already got honeymoon googly eyes going on.”
Cam pretended to be offended at Nic. “You told him?”
“And Lauren.” Nic shrugged, then said to Eddie, “After the week we’ve had, Cam and I deserve a honeymoon.” He shot a sexy leer at Cam. “A good long one.”
Eddie bolted for the door. “Never been so glad to have a morning call time.”
“One day, Vasquez, you’ll meet your match.”
Wrenching open the door, Eddie grinned over his shoulder. “Nev-ah. No one can handle this.” He shook his admittedly fine ass, then disappeared out the door, laughing.
Nic was laughing too as he nudged Bird off his lap and tipped Cam’s direction, nuzzling his cheek. “Welcome home, to what’s left of it.”
“You’re here. That’s all that matters.” Cam teased the corner of Nic’s mouth, just short of a kiss, before he sat back and took another swig of his beer. He talked over Nic’s throaty rumble of frustration. “It feels like we’ve been gone forever.”
“Joe thinks so. Left us a surprise in your shoes.”
“In mine?”
“’Cause he likes me better.”
Traitor indeed, the both of them. “You stole my cat.”
“I showed your cat a better way.”
“No, you bribed him with extra food and treats. But I don’t want to argue about that right now.
Got something else in mind.” He finished his beer, set the empty on the table next to Eddie’s, and stood.
Nic moved to stand too, but Cam kept him seated, a hand on his shoulder and a leg thrown over his lap. “This okay?”
Nic rolled his hips, bringing their groins in grinding contact. “More than,” he said, voice rumbly for a different reason now. “This part of my body doesn’t hurt, at least not in the bad way. But I do wonder about the chair. This is how we broke the other one, if you recall.”
Cam waggled his brows. “How about we try to break all the chairs?”
“How about I get a kiss first?” Nic lifted his legs and bumped Cam forward.
Hands splayed on Nic’s chest, Cam kept himself from careening into him, but Nic, despite his injuries, seemed to want it rough, seemed to crave it as much as Cam did.
Driving one hand down his back and the other into his hair, Nic dragged him close, smashing their lips together.
Drinking with each long, slow swipe of his tongue, he drew a moan from deep within Cam, from that spot where his love for him grew more and more each day.
“Still my favorite taste,” Nic mumbled as they broke apart for air.
“You know . . .” Cam trailed a path of kisses along his jaw, softly pecking over the bruises. “Bird wasn’t the only one you taught a better way.”
“Even if I argue you to an early grave?”
Cam righted his head and gently took Nic’s face in his hands. “No talking of graves. And no arguing tonight.” He closed the distance again, wanting more closeness, more tastes of their future. “Just kissing. And celebrating this victory.”
“And fucking,” Nic growled. “Definitely part of this celebration.”
Cam grinned. “No objection, Counselor.”
The next second Nic was up, taking Cam with him, and swiping the bottles off the table. They hit the floor just as Cam’s ass hit the table. “There you go,” he tsked. “Destroying the place again.”
The glint in Nic’s eyes was pure fire. Hotter than hell.
“One other thing I intended to destroy tonight.” He ran a rough hand over the bulge behind Cam’s zipper, and Cam was nearly destroyed right then.
Back arched, hips lifting off the table, he thrust into Nic’s grip.
Nic stroked once, twice, down his hardening length, before setting about a more methodical destruction.
Ripping Cam’s shirt off over his head, kissing a path down his neck and along his collarbone, before torturing his nipples with tongue and teeth until he was boneless in Nic’s hands, a writhing mess spread out on their dining table.
Tearing his pants and boxers down, then nipping, licking, and sucking everywhere, except where Cam needed him most. His ankle, the underside of each knee, the crease where thigh met pelvis, his taint and balls.
Until Cam begged, loud and strangled enough, needing the hot heat of Nic’s mouth around him, that Nic finally, finally, swallowed him down.
Hands spread over his hips, Nic held him trapped as he sucked and teased him right to the edge.
But as ready to jump over it as Cam was, he wanted Nic there to jump with him, celebrating this battle won, partaking in the good kind of destruction versus the other sort they’d so narrowly avoided.
Levering up, he clawed at Nic’s shoulders, pushing him off his dick and yanking him up.
Cam wove his fingers through his hair, bringing Nic’s ear to his lips, whispering, “I need to feel all of you.”
Groaning, Nic didn’t hesitate, reaching for the hem of his shirt and tugging it up and off.
Cam took a few precious moments to admire the tattoos on Nic’s front, never one to pass up the opportunity, then, hands sliding down the toned and inked torso, he went to work ridding Nic of his pants, the thunk of his belt buckle hitting the floor another small victory.
As was the lube sachet Nic held aloft. So that’s what he’d been digging out of his pants pocket before Cam had forced them down.
Cam laughed, then groaned as, hand to the center of his chest, Nic forced him back down to the table.
Spreading him out, Nic kissed his lips, the hollow of his throat, each shoulder, then his chest, right over his heart.
Cam felt the curve of Nic’s lips on his skin, no doubt smiling at the thudding heart underneath.
The heart that wanted every part of this for every day of the rest of Cam’s life. The words tumbled out.
“Love you, baby.”
An even wider smile and a “Love you too,” before Nic lifted off him. The rip of foil and a hand on his inner thigh were the only warnings Cam got before cool liquid dripped down his taint and over his hole. Cam’s hips shot off the table, another “love you” choked off in a keening growl.
“Easy, Boston,” Nic coaxed, slick fingers spreading the lube around his entrance, then inside, as he began to stretch and spread him.
Destroying him further. “Now, baby,” Cam moaned.
Giving him what he wanted, giving him everything he needed, Nic hauled his ass to the edge of the table and a second later, he was pressing his cock against his rim, gentle but persistent pressure that forced his muscles to give, a pinch of pain before they greedily clamped down around Nic’s cock, pushing in to fill him full.
Stretching out over him, Nic braced a hand by his head and stared down, blue eyes burning bright, full of everything Cam also felt. “I’m yours, forever.”
Cam pulled him down for another kiss, hips rocking to meet Nic’s thrusts, hands clutching at his back. At the branches he no longer feared.
They didn’t spell disaster for their future.
They didn’t even represent a past or future mess, as Nic had once thought.
The cypress and the initials carved into its trunk were a celebration too, of a heroic act by the hero right here in Cam’s arms. A sacrifice—body and heart—Nic had made for those he loved.
To save the family he’d chosen, the family he didn’t even know he had, the family he’d reclaimed and saved again today.
Nic’s family once more. Cam’s now too.
“And I’m yours,” Cam gasped as Nic pushed him the rest of the way over the edge, the two of them coming together.
Thoroughly destroyed and thoroughly in love.