Chapter 9 #2
“That he’ll speak to Tristan. In other words, he’ll ask Dusty via his intermediary. If anyone might have an idea why all of a sudden people are developing preternatural abilities in London, it’ll be her, and if not, maybe she can ask some of the higher-ups.”
“Seems sensible,” he replies thoughtfully. “Maybe Chan could ask Death?”
“I’ll message Chan and ask,” I murmur, tracing the back of Harrison’s hand as I hold it between mine. “I’m going to ask Danny if he wants to come and work with me.”
Once again Harrison looks up at me. “You are? I thought you liked working alone, a lone wolf and all that.”
I huff out a quiet laugh. “No, I was always a social person. It was just after…”
“After the attack?”
“I needed time on my own after that, and not just because of what happened. It was also how quickly the people who were supposed to be my friends and colleagues turned their backs on me. I never thought me being gay would be that much of a problem, or that so many of them would secretly think I deserved what happened.”
“Did they say that?” he replies sharply. It warms me how indignant he is on my behalf.
“Not directly to my face, but there was a lot of whispering behind my back, things getting back to me, and the way they looked at me.” I shake my head, not wanting to dwell on that time in my life.
“Anyway, I figured it might be nice to have a partner again, one who not only knows about and gets the weirdness factor but also lives it on a daily basis.”
He snorts. “That’s an understatement. It’s one thing having a fiancé who can see dead people, but having him permanently attached to a dead drag queen spirit guide in training? I can only imagine the daily drama.”
“You and me both. I adore Dusty, but sometimes I just need some quiet time.”
Harrison lifts our joined hands and drops an absent kiss against my fingers, and my damn heart almost stops. “What do you think Danny will say?”
“Danny?” I say stupidly as my brain glitches, causing me to lose the thread of our conversation.
“About working with you? Do you think he will?”
“I honestly don’t know. I know how happy he was to get a position at Scotland Yard and I don’t think he’ll want to leave Maddie, but given the way things have been lately…
I know he doesn’t get on with his DCI and hates all this crap with Detective Byrnes,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to his damp hair.
“Besides, I need to build the PI agency back up before bringing someone else in. I’ll plant the idea so he has the option, but I don’t think now is the right time for either of us.
Who knows, though, maybe at some point.”
Harrison looks up and smiles. “The Whitechapel Psychic Detective Agency?”
“I like that.” I chuckle. “It has a nice ring to it. Anyway, I need to find a place to live first.”
“What happened to your flat?” He frowns.
“Gave it up while I was up north.”
“You never said.”
I shrug. “Wasn’t important at the time.”
“Where are you living right now?” he asks in concern.
“I slept at the office for a while, but not having a bathroom was an issue, so I got a good deal from a little independent hotel not too far away. I’m renting their attic room for a while until I figure out something more permanent.”
His frown deepens as he stares at me.
“What?” I ask.
“I feel awful that you don’t have a proper place to live, and that you’re struggling to get your business back up and running after having to drop everything to help your mum.”
I shrug again. “It is what it is, Prickles, but it won’t be this way forever. I’ll figure it out, I always do. Trust me, with an absent father and an alcoholic mother, I learned to take care of myself pretty early on.”
He continues to frown, and I lift my hand to smooth the furrow between his brows. “Don’t worry about it,” I murmur. “It’ll all be fine in the end.”
“I feel bad.”
“Don’t,” I say easily. “It’s not the end of the world. And I should know since we very nearly had that during the eclipse.”
“I feel like I should ask you to stay here, but?—”
“But you’re not ready”—I grip his chin gently in my fingers—“and neither am I. I like what we’ve got going on. I want us to take our time getting to know each other, Prickles, because I feel like we could be standing at the edge of something pretty incredible and don’t want to rush it.”
“Something incredible?” he repeats. His eyes when he meets my gaze are so blue that I can’t look away.
“I like you, Harrison.”
His reply is so quiet I almost miss it. “I like you too.”
Lying here in the warm water, the heady scent of my bath herbs scenting the air, makes me feel strangely boneless. With Sam, I’m safe and wanted and somehow whole. Like he’s given me the piece of me I didn’t know was missing.
I’m not ready to admit to myself why that is.
We spent months getting to know each other over the phone while he was up north, and although we still snipe at each other in front of the others, we’ve formed a deep friendship.
Except it’s not just friendship, and I don’t think it ever was.
There’s always been something more there, just waiting for us to unravel it.
This is the worst possible timing.
“What are you thinking about?” Sam’s voice rumbles against my ear.
“You,” I exhale.
“What’s bothering you, Prickles? Is it what I said?”
I go back to tracing the veins on the back of his hand so I don’t have to look at his beautiful dark eyes. “No, but there are so many things I haven’t told you about me. Things I should tell you.”
He grips my chin with wet fingers, tilting my head so I can meet gaze.
God, he’s so gorgeous.
“There’s time,” he murmurs as he leans down, his lips hovering just above mine. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”
When his soft, warm lips touch mine, I can’t help but give in to my desires.
Somewhere at the back of my mind, my own personal Jiminy Cricket is probably pointing out that I should tell Sam the truth before we go any further, but I can’t hear him if he is.
He’s being drowned out by my libido, which is wide awake and giving Sam a twenty-one-gun salute.
It may make me a terrible person, but I want him so badly that it’s smothering any good sense I may have. Instead, my arm snakes up over my head and wraps around his neck, anchoring him to me while he devours my mouth.
My loud groan of arousal echoes around the bathroom, and I don’t even have it in me to be embarrassed. His kisses are deep and drugging, making me lightheaded. My fingers tangle in his long hair, and his stubble scrapes against my chin.
I want more.
My hand covers his as it rests against my chest, and I guide him down my wet torso to where my cock is lying hard and aching against my stomach.
He doesn’t need any more invitation. I greedily swallow the satisfied moan he lets loose against my mouth as his fingers wrap around the length of me with the perfect grip.
I can’t help my gasp when he slides my foreskin back and thumbs my leaking slit.
“Fuck, Prickles,” he mutters against my mouth. He begins to stroke me firmly, and I groan again.
His hard cock presses against the small of my back, and I ache to have him buried deep inside me.
“Wait, wait.” I reach down and still his hand.
“What’s wrong?” He draws back, looking into my eyes, his gaze tinged with concern.
“I want…” I swallow hard.
“What, baby?” He takes my chin again, tilting it so I meet his gaze. “Tell me what you want, anything, and you can have it.”
“I want you inside me,” I whisper, feeling my cheeks heat.
“Fuck.” He closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath, as if he’s trying to get himself under control. When he opens his eyes to meet mine, all I see is heat and desire. “Are you sure?”
I nod. “Yes,” I add.
“Okay, let’s get out of the bath then.”
It’s a bit awkward—there’s a lot of displaced water and elbows in tender places—but we manage to climb out of the bath without any actual injuries. I toss him a towel and grab one for myself, and we both quickly dry off.
The towels are tossed on top of the pile of clothes on the bathroom floor. Any other time, the mess would have bothered me, and maybe it will later, but right now I don’t pay it any attention. I’m too eager for Sam to get his dick inside me.
I take his hand and lead him into the bedroom where I turn and let him back me up against the bed.
“I don’t have anything with me,” he says as he stares down at my lips.
“I do.” I lean in and kiss him again.
“You been planning for this, Prickles?” he mutters between kisses.
I pull back and lower myself onto the bed, shuffling up until my head is resting on the pillows. “Was there any doubt we’d end up here eventually?”
A smile tugs at Sam’s lips, and he lowers one knee to the bed, then the other. He crawls towards me, and I spread my legs so he can settle his weight on me. I love it. The press of his warm, damp skin to mine, the glide of our cocks aligning with just a hint of friction and pressure.
“You sure about this?” he asks again, his gaze searching mine.
“Yes.”
“You done this before?” He drops a soft, teasing kiss to my mouth.
I shake my head. “No.”
“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.”
I push him up enough so I can lean over and open the drawer of the bedside table, retrieving a condom and bottle of lube that I set on the bed next to us.
“Are you nervous?” he asks as I settle back under him. Strangely, I’m not. I trust him. I’m also riding a wave of lust so brutal I’m more worried about his safety than mine.
I slide my hands into his hair and grip tightly as I take his mouth, plunging my tongue into his and groaning when he sucks on it like it’s my cock.
His hips rock between my thighs, and the pressure of his dick on mine is so good, but it’s not enough.
I break the kiss, panting against his mouth. “Sam, please.”
“I’ve got you, Prickles,” he murmurs as he kisses my chin and then my neck, causing goosebumps to break out over my skin. A delicious shiver ripples down my spine.