by R. Cayden
Maybe Alexandria was right. Maybe he did need to consider finding a guy to date because it was not like Seb to start lusting after a man with tattoos and scars and guns. Men like Declan had always terrified Seb, but for some reason, when he thought about the hair on the back of Declan’s hand, or the leathery smell that lingered when he walked away, or the thick muscles on his neck…
Visions of Declan gripped Seb, spilling over his body. He imagined Declan bursting through the door, kicking it open with his heavy boots, then taking Seb in his arms. Seb imagined the rough grip of Declan’s hands, painful but somehow good, too, and the filthy things that man would whisper to him as he bossed Seb around, and claimed his body in every room of the sprawling, cavernous house.
Seb groaned. His balls tightened up close to his body, and his hole clenched tight as he shot jets of cum into his palm.
“Damn,” he mumbled. “That was quick.”
It was silly of him, anyway. He was just confused because Declan was his security for the time being. If push came to shove, Seb knew Declan would only use those muscles because he was getting paid to, unlike in Seb’s fantasies, where Declan promised over and over again that he would protect Seb to his dying breath. Where Declan rubbed his thumb across Seb’s lips and swore he would claim him forever.
Seb pulled himself out of bed. Illogical thoughts like that meant it was time to start his day. He jumped into the shower, then brushed his teeth in the steamy room. By the time he was dressed and making breakfast, he was almost able to get his head around the day’s work.
The front door slammed open, and a moment later, Declan stepped into the kitchen.
“Oh, good morning,” Seb said, straightening his back. “I didn’t realize you got up this early.” Considering the amount of beer Declan had been working through at night, Seb kind of took him as a late sleeper.
“I do a perimeter walk every morning,” he answered. The rumble of his voice was rich, and it sent little trembles down Seb’s spine to think of Declan out there, trudging through the snow to keep him safe.
“Anything to worry about?” Seb asked.
He shook his head. “The snow makes it easy to check for tracks. It looks clear.”
“I’m glad you agree that the threat isn’t much.” Seb poured a cup of coffee into a mug without really thinking, then slid it to Declan. He’d seen the man down enough cups of black coffee in the past week that he knew it would be appreciated.
Declan nodded and accepted the mug. “Like I said, the crew that made the threat can barely get their shit together enough to move their product, as far as I can tell. There’s no way they can pull something like this off.”
Seb cracked his knuckles. As much as he still believed it was a good idea to keep space between himself and Declan, curiosity itched at the back of his thoughts. It wasn’t unlike when he stumbled on a new question in his research, perplexing but also fascinating. “How did you learn that? Do you work with some kind of law enforcement, FBI or something?” Corporate types like Seb’s father usually hired former military, but Declan lacked that sense of rigid discipline.
Declan barked a laugh. “Seb, you think I’m FBI?” He had a funny way of talking. His voice was always loud, almost rumbling, like there was a threat in everything he said. And Seb could have sworn that every time he felt that rumble in his body, his crush grew a little stronger, grabbing him from the inside.
But still, there was something warm in the voice, too, something that made Seb want to trust the man.
He chuckled. “No, I really don’t think you’re FBI.”
“I’ve worked a lot of jobs,” Declan answered. “Some I’m proud of, some I’m not so proud of. But trust me, you don’t want to hear about my family business, no more than I can understand whatever it is you’re getting up to in that laboratory. As far as you’re concerned, I’m just the guy who knows how to shoot a gun.”
Seb bit down on his bottom lip. There was definitely more to the story about the family business, whatever that meant. Maybe Declan thought Seb was a wimp who couldn’t handle the truth of what Declan did.
And probably, Seb realized, he would be right about that.
His heart thumped a few times as he gripped the coffee mug. “Well, I’m the guy who doesn’t even know how to throw a punch, so I’m glad you’re around, either way.”
Declan barked a laugh. “Seb, you’re all right, you know that?”
Seb laughed nervously. “I guess so.”
Declan jerked his head toward the window and the expanse of mountainside that stretched to the distance. “There’s a whole lot of nothing out there, but I’ll keep you safe from it. Don’t worry.”
“Thanks,” Seb answered, the word coming out close to a whisper. He lingered by the counter for just a minute, his heart reaching out to Declan, wanting to find something more in him, but soon enough, he managed to pull himself back to reality.
“Off to work,” Seb said. “Enjoy your day.” He turned to walk away before he said something embarrassing, but a breath later, Declan lurched forward and grabbed his arm across the counter. Something jolted through Seb when Declan tightened his grip, and his feet froze to the ground.
“Declan…” Seb managed to whisper.
“Quiet,” he whispered back as he stood. His eyes lit up with something fierce, almost animal. Tense seconds passed, and all Seb could hear was the blood, rushing through his body.
“Get down,” Declan whispered. “Squat behind the counter and wait here.”
“What’s happening?” Seb whispered as he bent his knees and rested his hands on the linoleum floor. It made him feel even more vulnerable than before, but still, a part of him knew he should obey whatever Declan instructed.
Declan’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing,” he whispered. “Probably nothing.” He started to turn away, then cast his glance back down to Seb. “Remember, I’ll keep you safe. Just don’t move until I say, okay?”
A second paused, maybe two. Then, splitting the silence, the emergency lights flashed, and a high-pitched beep pierced through the air. Like a flash of lightning, Seb realized something might actually be horribly, horribly wrong.
He nodded quickly, his mouth dry. “Okay,” he answered, fear gripping his guts. “I’ll stay here.”
* * *
DECLAN
It ate a fucking hole in Declan’s heart to see the kid on his knees like that, his hand trembling, looking up with need.
Maybe the woods and the quiet were messing with Declan’s head. Maybe it was all the goddamn snow creaking again, he hoped, and he hadn’t just heard what he thought he heard.
Except Declan didn’t make mistakes like that. It was why his father threw him on the family crew when Declan was barely fifteen, younger than all the other guys by a solid decade. Declan might have been a foul-mouthed drunk sometimes, but when it came time to act, nothing slipped by him.
And right then, as he crept to the front of the house, there was definitely some motherfucker sneaking across the yard.
He grabbed the walkie talkie and tried to buzz the front security a couple of times but got no response. Immediately, his thoughts flew to Sebastian. If this was actually it, if that little crew was actually making a big-time move, that meant the kid was in danger.
Declan might have tried to sneak out of a bad poker game every now and then, but he never broke a promise that truly mattered, and he didn’t intend to start now. He ducked as he rushed back into kitchen, the one task of keeping Sebastian safe central in his mind. Adrenaline pumped through his body, and his instincts kicked into gear, muscles and jaw tight.
Sebastian looked up from the ground, eyes wide and lip trembling. The poor guy had probably never been in real danger before.
“We have company,” Declan said. “At least one intruder, making his way to your wing of the house.”
Sebastian startled, then turned his eyes down the hall. “My projects,” he whispered. “My hard drives and my research.” Panic bit at the edges
of his voice as his eyes darted back and forth.
“Fuck that,” Declan growled as he took his arm. “You’re the real target. Come with me.”
Sebastian protested, but Declan managed to pull him up. He ducked and dived as he ran Sebastian to Declan’s wing of the house. He immediately positioned Sebastian in the bathroom, then grabbed some of the equipment his boss had shipped and headed back to the door. He listened carefully, trying to discern more information, but only caught the muffled noises that came from the lab.
Declan put his finger to his lips. “You stay right here,” he said, dimming the bathroom light. Sebastian leaned against the counter, breathing shallowly. “We still don’t know what’s happening. Just sit tight and keep the door locked, okay?”
Sebastian nodded quickly. “Okay,” he whispered.
Declan wanted to say more, to find a way to comfort Sebastian. It hurt like hell when he turned away instead, but he had no time to lose.
He held a handgun and a smoke grenade as he crept down the hall, pausing only to quietly lock the double doors to the wing behind him. The crew who had made the threat wouldn’t have anything more than some pistols, so he wasn’t worrying about snipers or some semi-automatic bullshit. Mainly, Declan was just trying to figure out how many more people were creeping around the property right then and how bad the odds were going to be against him.
“If I get killed because of that fucking poker game…” he muttered, then worked up some steel and kicked the flimsy door to Sebastian’s lab wide open.
He roared as he threw the smoke grenade for a distraction, then swept his gun across the room, ready to face anything. Smoke poured into the room, and for a second, the only sound was the hissing of the canister. Declan thought he had made some kind of mistake, maybe hallucinated the whole fucking thing out of boredom.
Then a crash snapped him out of it. He jerked his head to the side just in time to see a shattering window fall to shards on the sleek wooden floor and the snow outside. Two masked figures leapt out the open space, then took off across the yard. Declan’s muscles demanded that he speed after them, tackle them to the ground, and beat the living pulp out of their faces, but he couldn’t leave Sebastian.
And just as well when another loud bang pulled him across the house.
Declan sprinted toward his wing, heart pounding. The second he rounded the corner, he saw the figure, kicking at the double door. Declan let out another yell, so loud it practically shook the walls, and charged straight for the motherfucker.
The intruder dived, tumbling out of the way at the last second, and the sheer force of Declan’s charge sent him sprawling against the wall with a thud of pain and a deep groan. He recovered quickly, pointing his gun straight out, but the intruder was already out the door. Declan gasped for breath as he rushed to the front, just in time to see a nondescript black car speeding away.
“Fucking hell.”
He felt dizzy, and pain throbbed at his shoulder, but he could only think of one thing. “Sebastian,” he hollered. “You okay?”
The door opened, and Sebastian stepped out. He was white as a damn sheet, and it took all Declan’s self-control not to pull him into his arms and squeeze him tight.
“What just happened?” Sebastian asked, breathless.
Declan dropped the gun to his side. “Looks like you’re a bigger target than we realized.” He grabbed the keys from beside the door.
“You’re leaving!” Sebastian announced, frantic. “You can’t leave me right now!”
Declan reached out to squeeze his arm. Something about the warmth of touching Sebastian sent a shiver through his whole body. “I have to find out what happened to the security up front,” he said. “Someone could need medical attention. But look.” He turned Sebastian toward the window. “Three sets of tracks. I saw them all leave.”
Sebastian looked hesitant, too scared to agree. Declan considered leaving him with the gun but knew Sebastian was more likely to hurt himself than someone else.
“We’re going to lock you in the bathroom,” he said. “I’ll take one walkie; you’ll take the other. And remember, I promised I’ll keep you safe, okay?” He didn’t know why he felt the need to keep making a promise like that, but when he looked into Sebastian’s eyes, the words poured out of him.
“Okay,” Sebastian answered. “Should I call the police?”
Declan shook his head quickly. “I’ll call your dad. He said he wants to oversee any report, if an incident occurs.”
“Okay,” Sebastian said, his voice a little more confident.
Declan held his gaze. “I’ll be right back,” he promised again. “The worst is over.”
He turned and headed to the door. The security guard up front was an urgent concern, but damn if it didn’t seem to hurt every time he left Sebastian’s side.
“What in the ever-living fuck,” he grumbled as he stomped outside and into the snow. His brain slowly started to piece together what had happened and what it meant for the job.
Big Paolo had got him over good with this one, but at least Declan wasn’t bored anymore.
Sebastian
Seb tossed and turned in bed after another sleepless night. Pure fright forced him to keep his eyes on the window and the door as he hugged a pillow to his chest and fought off the nightmares. He felt like a total wimp, especially when he started debating whether he should just go knock on Declan’s door and ask to sleep in his room, where he knew he would be protected.
Humiliating. But something deep down in Seb’s gut believed it was the only way he could feel safe. Instead, he went with one of his old tricks, flipping on and muting Ouran High School Host Club, one of his favorite anime series. Ever since he was a kid, Seb had obsessively watched cartoons set in high schools. He might not have had a social life of his own, but immersing himself in the dramatic antics of the cartoons provided some small comfort, with the characters offering an approximation of actual friendship, and the stories so familiar he didn’t even need to turn the volume on to follow along.
Seb curled up under the covers a while longer, then groaned and kicked his legs out of the blankets. Finding companionship from cartoons was one thing, but this burning desire to turn to his bodyguard seemed even more absurd, all things considered.
It must have been sleep deprivation, because a few days earlier, Declan had seemed the opposite of safe.
Like the other morning, Seb caught Declan snarling at his own reflection. That wasn’t comforting, or protective. It was something a rabid wolf would do.
He walked into the kitchen. At least he had lots of experience hiding his feelings. A lifetime surrounded by paid help who were terrified of his father hadn’t really given him a lot of shoulders to cry on.
The lights flashed, and the bell chimed out to announce someone was at the door. Seb’s father had thrown a few extra security guards on the job immediately, so Seb knew he shouldn’t have felt jumpy about the bell ringing. The guard working yesterday hadn’t even been hurt, just tied up.
Still, though, he practically held his breath until he saw who was on the other side of the door.
When he pulled it open, his father stormed into the house, followed immediately by a crew that breezed past Seb and headed to the lab. People in white suits carried buckets, jugs of cleaner, and a massive new window. Seb’s father had promised to repair the damage that was done to the laboratory quickly, but Seb still sometimes forgot exactly how quickly people moved when Horizon Zed was involved.
“Oh, hello, Father.” Seb straightened his back. Like anytime they were around each other, he was immediately self-conscious and withdrawn. His father was an imposing man, with silver hair and steel eyes. He spent every day of his life in a dark suit, and when he spoke, he usually talked in commands.
Seb didn’t think reputation or power were what made him so shy around his father, though. It was simply because the man was a stranger to Seb. Seb’s mother died when he was very young, and his father quickly sent him off
to schools where he could pursue his “gift.” The more Seb withdrew into his studies, the harder it was to connect the rare times they ended up in the same place, at holidays and special functions.
Long story short, Seb’s father didn’t really care about his son. But he did provide that son with a home, a comfortable allowance, and a state-of-the-art lab, so Seb tried his best to smile and remain pleasant.
“Thanks for coming by.”
“Your laboratory is fine? Only superficial damage, it sounds like.”
“Yes,” Seb agreed. “Nothing needs to be replaced in that front.” They stood in the middle of the large greeting room by the entrance, and Seb wasn’t sure if he should invite the man to sit or to take the jacket he left partially buttoned.
“That’s good,” his father said, nodding. After a moment, he turned, walking into the kitchen, and Seb followed along behind, wishing he weren’t in his pajamas.
He grabbed onto the fact that his father had asked about the lab, taking some small comfort in it. His support of Seb’s work was the closest they had to an actual bond. A lot of the family genes must have skipped a generation, but Seb did inherit the work drive and intense focus.
“Have you eaten breakfast?” Seb asked. “Or I can put on some coffee.”
His father shook his head quickly. “No, I can’t stay.”
Seb nodded. “I’m doing okay,” he said. His father hadn’t actually asked, but he felt like it should be said anyway. “Just a little shaken.”
“Yes, Sebastian, fine. And we’ve added the extra security, of course.” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, then handed Seb a business card. “If you need anything, that’s the best assistant to contact, regarding the security of your home.”
“Right,” Seb answered, fingering the card. “If I need anything, I’ll let her know.”
“And you’re sure you want to stay put? We could send you off to London for the rest of the season, or the Florida home.”
