Operation 13 Lines Crossed #2
Xander pushed the door wider and peeked inside…and almost swallowed his tongue.
Cassidy was in the middle of the bedroom floor, shirtless, with earbuds in his ears, wearing knee-length black athletic shorts and high-top black Converse.
His palms were planted on the floor, body extended in a long, perfect line as he did push-ups with textbook form.
Cassidy lowered himself until his chest nearly touched the floor, then drove back up with smooth power, tattooed biceps flexing, back tightening, shoulders rolling beneath tanned skin slick with sweat.
He kept going as if the movement cost him little to no effort.
Xander stared.
He knew Cassidy was strong. But seeing him like this was different.
His back was broader than Xander had let himself imagine, covered in dark tribal ink spreading across his upper back and over both shoulders in bold, aggressive patterns. More ink wrapped around his thick biceps and down his forearms. The muscles there strained and veins protruded with every push.
Good Lord.
Xander’s mouth went dry. He was turned on by Cassidy already, but this was just unfair.
He jerked back before he got caught drooling and pressed his spine against the hallway wall.
His orange juice bottle was cold in his hand, but everywhere else was hot.
His breathing had changed, with horror he realized he was breathing just as hard as Cassidy.
Xander squeezed his eyes shut at the ache between his legs.
Cassidy Morrison was too much fucking man. Too self-controlled and mature in a way that made the overzealous men Xander had been avoiding for the last year feel even more incapable.
Cassidy’s age was a serious weapon. There was something about the lines in his face, the graying at his temple, his discipline, the authority that radiated from him. Then there was the fact he’d already lived through things most men wouldn’t’ve survived.
Since coming out a year ago, Xander hadn’t dated. But not from a lack of offers.
There’d been plenty of hot, eager, camera-ready men who slid into his messages or mailed him ab pics with suggestive proposals. But he couldn’t help but wonder whether they wanted him or to be associated with his name…and money.
He also hated the idea of meeting online, which he understood was the norm now. But, swiping through faces on dating sites felt less like looking for a connection and more like shopping from a catalog.
Before that, there’d been one man who had mattered.
His on-and-off secret boyfriend from his freshman year in college—if those hidden trysts could even be called a relationship. They’d been young, scared, and careful.
Cassidy was none of that.
After all these years, Cassidy was a hell of a man to be his first.
Xander pushed away from the wall and went back to the kitchen before he embarrassed himself further.
He added ice to his orange juice, even though it was already cold, but champagne would be a much better addition. Better yet, a Bloody Mary. Top-shelf vodka, spicy with a fresh stalk of celery stalk and a couple of slices of bacon. That would take the edge off his nerves and lust.
He bet the hotel’s restaurant made a delicious one.
Xander almost went to the phone to order room service out of instinct, before he remembered Free’s booby traps.
He’d have to go downstairs himself.
It should be okay to sit at a very public hotel bar. The place was full of people, cameras, staff, security. Seemed reasonable.
He’d text Cassidy so no one thought he’d vanished or tried to escape protective custody.
He sent the quick text.
Going downstairs to the hotel restaurant. Let me know when it’s time to go up and meet with God.
He almost chuckled. The message sounded as if he was planning to leave this world and meet his maker.
Calling a man God was going to take some getting used to.
He stared at the message after it sent.
Then added…
I won’t leave the hotel.
He went back into his room, grabbed his ball cap, sunglasses, and wallet from the nightstand. At the suite door, he slid the sunglasses into place and took a breath.
I’m fine, it’s one little drink at a public bar, there’ll be dozens of people around.
He opened the door, but it was slammed shut before he took a single step.
Xander jumped and spun around so fast he almost lost his balance. He pulse kicked hard before he realized it was Cassidy looming over him.
Still shirtless and sweating.
He had a large white towel draped over his shoulders, the ends hanging down over a chest that shouldn’t’ve been allowed near him before he’d had that damn Bloody Mary.
Cassidy was so close Xander could feel heat coming off him in waves. The scent of sweat, hot skin, and something darker filled the narrow space between them, sharp enough to make his mouth go dry.
The earbuds were gone. His hair was damp, and brushed back from his face, his beard dark around a mouth he wanted to consume him.
Xander stared straight ahead because looking up would be a mistake.
Unfortunately, straight ahead was worse.
Droplets of sweat slid between the heavy cut of Cassidy’s pecs, threading through the dark hair and leaving it damp, slick, and impossible not to stare at. His stomach was tight, clenched in a way that seemed as if he was holding his breath.
“Xander, where are you going?” he growled, his deep voice rolling over Xander.
He dragged his gaze away from Cassidy’s chest to see him frowning down at him, jaw firm, whiskey-brown eyes sizzling with heat.
He swallowed. “I was just going downstairs.”
Cassidy
“I was just going downstairs.”
Cassidy glared.
Just going downstairs.
He was trying to comprehend how that made sense. As if Xander hadn’t been hiding in a closet twelve hours ago while someone—smart and determined—had hacked his security, cut his power, and put a bullet through his bedroom door to get to him.
What the fuck was he thinking?
Cassidy took a slow breath to pull himself back from the edge before his temper overruled his judgment.
The second he pulled air into his lungs, Xander’s scent came with it.
His body, already overheated from the workout, burned hotter, that light, sensual fragrance curling through him until all he could think about was finding the place where it lingered and putting his mouth there.
It was unlike any cologne he’d every smelled. It was light, and quiet. Powdery and lust-warmed, like sugared milk on creamy skin.
“Um.” Xander blinked up at him, pretty as sin. “I wanted a little pick-me-up, and I didn’t want to bother you. I figured with all the people moving around, it’d be safe as long as I didn’t leave the hotel. Free said—”
“Free said our floor is secured,” Cassidy inched closer. “Not the entire hotel.”
He kept his palm planted against the door beside Xander’s head, unable to make himself back away. “And I don’t care if you’re standing in the middle of Hollywood Boulevard,” he said, voice rougher than he intended. “You don’t stand there without me.”
He heard it the moment it left his mouth.
Christ.
That was too hard and possessive.
Xander didn’t belong to him, no matter how natural it felt waking with him tucked against him. No matter how much he hated peeling himself out of bed and away from the warmth of his soft body.
Cassidy lowered his hand to give Xander room to breathe.
He steadied his tone before he spoke again. “Xander, you can’t just leave. Not without me.”
Xander’s shoulders sank a fraction.
“I know this sucks.” He sighed. “Being restricted is frustrating. And you’re probably tired of people deciding where you can go and what can and can’t do.”
Xander bit his bottom lip, nodding slowly.
“But I’m your close protection lead, meaning, I’m to always be by your side,” Cassidy stressed because he needed Xander to understand what that meant. “I’m responsible for who gets close to you. If anything happens—”
He couldn’t even finish the sentence.
Cassidy shoved his hand over his damp hair, cursing under his breath.
He had to pull this apart and quickly. Had to separate the professional from the personal before both pieces knotted together and rendered him useless.
The man in front of him was not a lover he could keep pressed to a door because he felt good and smelled too fucking delicious.
Xander Vale was his principal. His Starlight.
God’s team had given Xander a call sign that felt less operational and dangerously close to an endearment.
Cassidy’s jaw was tight. “I’m sorry you got saddled with me.”
Xander’s eyes widened. He shook his head so fast a strand of caramel-blond hair slipped free near his temple. “No. Please don’t say that.”
Color warmed Xander’s face, the pink rising slow and sweet.
“I’m glad it’s you. Before you um…” He swallowed and lowered his gaze for half a second. “Before you laid down with me last night, I’d been scared every day and every night. I kept thinking I was safe, and then I wasn’t. But with you…I slept.”
Cassidy barely breathed as he listened.
Xander’s voice grew quieter. “I’m more sorry that you’re burdened with me.”
“You are not a burden.”
“You have more important things to do than babysit me.” Xander licked his lips in a sexy, boyish way. “You run a company. You have men under you and responsibilities. You’ve protected diplomats and really important people. I’m just—”
“Don’t.” He stepped closer.
Cassidy was already too close. He knew that. Every reasonable part of him knew that. But reason had been taking blows since last night, and was losing.
He lifted his hand slowly, and when Xander didn’t pull away, Casidy took his chin between his fingers and tilted his face up.
Xander’s skin was tender and smooth. His pulse fluttering beneath where his thumb rested against his jaw.
Up close, he looked even younger. And his eyes, goddamn those radiant, sky-blue eyes were almost too beautiful to stare into.
His mouth hovered inches from Xander’s, close enough to feel the faint tremors in his breath.
“I decide what’s important to me,” he said each word low and deliberate. “I decide what burdens me, where I stand, and who I put myself between.”
Xander’s breath turned shallow, as he dropped his gaze to Cassidy’s mouth.