by Tinnean
I opened the trunk, stacked a couple of boxes, and waited while Quinn took the last one and shut the trunk.
We entered the building. Usually it took an act of God or The Boss for me to take the elevator, but I didn’t have to look into Quinn’s face to see this wasn’t a time to stand on principles. I walked to the elevator, angled the boxes so my hand was free, and jabbed a finger on the button.
It was a good idea. Quinn didn’t even question me over it.
The elevator rose smoothly to the third floor. No one called for it, so I didn’t have to drop the boxes and go for my gun.
The doors slid open, and we exited and walked down the corridor to my condo.
Once we arrived in front of my door, I set down the boxes, took out my keys, and unlocked the door. Quinn knew the sequence, but again he didn’t challenge me for not letting him do it.
“Where do you want me to put these?” he asked once we were in the entryway and I had the door locked behind us.
“The study. You can go through them later and decide what you want to do with the contents.”
He nodded and trudged down the hall, and I gritted my teeth so hard a molar twinged. Damned C-fucking-I-fucking-A.
With the boxes stacked in the study, I hustled him on to the master bedroom. “Okay, strip and take a shower. And don’t drown in there.”
He heaved a sigh. He fucking heaved a sigh.
“All right, Mark.”
“And just leave your clothes where they land. We’ll deal with them later.”
“All right.” One by one, each article of clothing came off to be dropped to the floor. He went through the master closet to the bathroom, and I took out my cell phone, listening for the sound of running water.
There wasn’t any sound of the shower being turned on just yet. I flipped open my phone and hit seven on speed dial. It rang twice, and then, “Mann residence.”
“Novotny—”
“What’s wrong? Is Quinn okay?”
“He’s in one piece, if that’s what you’re asking about, but he’s kind of emotionally battered.”
“What happened?” He didn’t accuse me of being at fault, which I appreciated, although I had to admit it surprised me.
“The CIA isn’t going to do a fucking thing about those people out in the field, and Quinn’s taking it really hard.” When Quinn realized the CIA planned to let those assets twist in the wind, he came to the conclusion he’d had enough.
“I’m not surprised.” And for once Novotny didn’t snipe back at me.
“He’s resigned.”
“Oh, fuck.”
Yeah, my thoughts precisely. “I thought it would be a good idea for him to shower and change, maybe catch a nap. So I’ll bring him to Great Falls in a couple of hours.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
I frowned at my phone. He was being too nice to me. “Look, you’ve been away from home for more than three weeks, and I know the pantry must be pretty bare.”
“Are you wondering if I’ll be able to feed you?”
And it looked like I’d spoken too soon. “No. Do you have what you need to make Quinn’s favorite comfort meal?”
“Crab tomato bisque, Russian black bread, and caviar? No.”
Trust Quinn to have a taste for caviar.
“Okay, I’m gonna get Theo to call you. You know who he is, so you don’t have to worry about someone fucking with you when you answer the door. Give him a list of the ingredients, and he’ll pick up whatever you need and bring it to you.”
“You’re awfully confident he’ll be available.”
“Why wouldn’t he be?”
“Some people do have lives.”
“Yeah, but he’ll do it for me.”
“Fine.”
Yep, that was the Novotny I knew and disliked. “Do me a favor and let Portia know Quinn will be there, but not as soon as she might expect.”
“All right. We’ll see you later.”
“Yeah. And Novotny?”
“What?”
“Thanks.”
“Oh God, don’t make me start liking you.”
In spite of everything, I laughed as I hung up on him.
Okay, now to call Theo.
I hit six on speed dial, and he picked up after a couple of rings. He must have had my number on caller ID, because he didn’t give me a chance to tell him it was me.
“Hi, Vince. It’s early in the afternoon for you to call, but I’m really glad you did. I got back from my architect’s office a little while ago—”
I was pleased his first thought hadn’t been that his fiancé had been hurt or was in some kind of mortal danger. He usually did that whenever Matheson was out of town.
“—and he gave me a set of floorplans for Mann Manor. I’ll be interested in seeing what you and Mr. Mann think of them.”
“Thanks, Theo.” It had taken the architect a while to finish the plans, but I’d told him I wanted them done right, not fast.
“So, what’s cooking?”
“I need you to do me a favor.”
“You bet. What can I do for you?”
“Call this number.” I repeated it twice so I was sure he got it.
“Okay, who am I calling?”
“Portia Mann’s residence.”
“Is she okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine. Novotny will give you a list of what he needs to make crab tomato bisque and Russian black bread.”
“I have a recipe for that myself.”
“Uh-huh. Use his. He’ll also tell you what brand of caviar he wants.”
“Got it.”
“And Theo? Would you mind staying and helping out? I know you’re a good cook, and Novotny might need the help.”
“Okay.”
“Thanks. Let me know what I owe you.” I imagined between the crab and the caviar the bill would be fairly hefty, and it wasn’t his responsibility to pay for it.
“Okay, but just so you know, you already owe me big time.”
“Excuse me?”
“I had to bring Miss Priss to the vet to be spayed—Mrs. Mann asked if I minded doing that.”
Oh Jesus, I’d forgotten all about the kitten. Theo had been watching her while Portia and Novotny were away. And I had no doubt he had assured her he’d be glad to.
“I was almost as traumatized as the last time, Vince.”
“What last time?”
He blew out an impatient breath. “When I had to take Miss Su in to be spayed. Wills had been sent out of town, and I had to do it. Alone. All by myself.”
I laughed.
“I’m serious.”
“I’m sure you are. Sorry, Theo.”
“Okay. Anyway, I can bring Miss Priss home too.”
“Did she behave herself?”
“She was good as gold. She always is. And she and Miss Su got along great.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” I was sure Portia wanted her kitten home as soon as Theo could get her there.
“Uh…”
“What?”
“She’s not a purebred.”
“Excuse me?”
“The vet told me only white Maine Coon cats have blue eyes.”
I stared at the phone, shook my head, and put the phone back to my ear. “So she’s a mutt?”
“Well, no. I wouldn’t put it like that. It’s just while her momma or poppa might be a Maine Coon cat, her momma… uh… or poppa isn’t.”
“Huh.”
“Do you think Mrs. Mann will be disappointed?”
“No. She loves that cat.”
“Phew. Cool. Okay, I’ll call Gregor right now.”
“You’re a good man, Theo. Thanks. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you later.”
“Right. Bye.”
I disconnected the call and gave it some thought. No, Portia wouldn’t mind that her kitten wasn’t a purebred, just like Quinn didn’t mind that I wasn’t. Looked like I’d lucked out as much as Miss Priss had.
I could
hear the sound of the shower running, and I knew I’d have to hurry. I had one more phone call to make. I hit two on speed dial, and The Boss picked up on the second ring.
“How’s your friend, Mark?”
“He’s resigned.”
“About the situation?”
“No, from the CIA.”
There was a moment of silence, then, “If he would like a job, the WBIS will be more than happy to offer him one.”
“I thought you said the WBIS wasn’t ready to accept a CIA officer into the fold.”
“Yes, but at this point, Quinton Mann is no longer CIA. In addition, I’m The Boss, am I not?”
Yeah, but I could see some of the asshole directors—the ones he planned to oust—using that to insinuate his brain was becoming fried and he could no longer be depended on to run the WBIS.
“Mark.” There was amusement in his voice. “Trust me, all right?”
“All right. Thanks,” I said gruffly. But if anyone challenged him, I’d tear them all new ones. “I’ll let him know. He’s… he’s upset people he’s worked with are in danger. It looks like the CIA isn’t going to step in to deal with this mess.”
“He doesn’t need to be upset.” His voice became hard. “I’m sending in a team from Foreign Affairs. Browne’s heading it up.”
“Jesus. I’m falling down on the job.” I thought I’d have to do a little arm-twisting, but I should have known better.
“No, it’s not your department.”
“Maybe not, but they’re my partner’s people.”
“You really need to let me run this organization on occasion.” The amusement was back in his voice.
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Mark. Remember, we get the jobs the CIA won’t handle.”
“I know that, but… Thanks, Trevor. I appreciate this.”
“Just remember to tell Mann we’d be very pleased to have him join us.”
“I’ll pass on your message. I’ve got to go take care of him.”
“I’m glad you found someone, Mark.” He cleared his throat. “All right, I need to discuss this with Stanley.” The head of Foreign Affairs probably would have insisted on going on the mission himself, except he wouldn’t chance putting his men in danger. He’d lost a leg back in ’96, thanks to that shit, Sperling, and now he had to experience all the action vicariously. “And if you need to take some time off, take it. This will be a good experience for Matheson as deputy director.”
“Yes, sir.” And for Winchester as an agent—it would take a while, if ever, to see if he’d become a special agent, let alone a senior special agent. I imagined he’d calm down or else either get fired or get dead. “Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome.”
We hung up, and I put my phone on the nightstand. Jesus. Winchester. Well, if Matheson couldn’t deal with him, now would be the time to realize it.
I folded back the covers on our bed and made sure the lube was handy, along with a little something extra.
I drew in a deep breath, toed off my shoes, and began stripping out of my clothes. Then I walked into the bathroom.
Quinn was in the shower, one hand braced against the wall, defeat in every line of his body.
I stepped in behind him, slid an arm around his waist, and curved my hand over his cock. It was soft, but as soon as he felt my touch, blood began to flow south, and he hardened. I scattered kisses across his shoulders, and he made a pleased sound, which in turn made me happy.
“I just got off the phone with The Boss,” I murmured in his ear. “He’s sending a team to the Middle East. I know the team leader. So do you, for that matter.”
“I do? Who is it?”
“Browne.”
“The man Max is in love with?”
“Was. He’s moved on.”
Quinn looked over his shoulder at me. “Is Max all right?”
“Yeah. He’s involved with the WBIS’s medical examiner.”
“Dr. Schmidt?”
“Yeah.” I wasn’t surprised Quinn was familiar with my organization’s roster.
“I hope Browne is a better leader than he was a lover.”
“He’s good. I rode him really hard last year, and he got his act together.” Except when it came to the little French doctor. Hell if I knew what Browne’s problem was—maybe he just wasn’t ready to settle down. Maybe he couldn’t face the possibility he was gay. Maybe Max just wasn’t his type. “Anyway, the team will do what they can.”
“I appreciate it, but the WBIS shouldn’t have to do that.”
No, but as The Boss had said, we handled the jobs none of the other agencies could or would deal with.
“Wallace said if you’re looking for a job, there’s one waiting for you at the WBIS.”
He stared at me. We’d joked about this, about him working under me and me chasing him around my desk. “Did you twist his arm?”
“I didn’t have to. You’re well thought of in this community, you know. Even if the CIA doesn’t appreciate you.”
“Mark… I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. This is your call. No matter what you choose, I’ve got you, babe.”
“Are we channeling Sonny and Cher?” His making jokes was promising.
“And if we are?” I leaned down and brushed my lips over his. He tasted of the minty Life Savers he liked. It had been a while since he’d had them.
“Well, you’d have to be Cher.”
I stopped kissing him. “Why?” I asked suspiciously.
“You’re taller than I am.”
“You’ve gotta stop doing this, Mann.”
“Doing what?”
“Putting me in the woman’s part. Next thing I know, you’ll have me wearing a dress.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said in a snooty tone, but I could see he was biting back a laugh.
“Sure you do. First you make my character in that book you’re writing—”
“Actually, it’s done.” He turned around to face me.
“—a woman, and then you compare me to— Wait, what?”
“I said it’s done. I sent off a copy to Uncle Bryan, and he had that friend of his who’s in publishing take a look at it.”
“And?”
“They’re offering me a contract.”
“I’m proud of you, babe.” I wrapped my arms around him, pulled him against me, and nipped the spot where shoulder and neck joined. He shivered. Yeah, he liked that, not as much as having me tease his nipples, but I knew if I started that, my plans for him would be over in a minute. Not that we didn’t have a decent recovery time, but his mother did want to see him. “You know what this means, don’t you?”
“What?”
“You really don’t need the C-fucking-I-fucking-A.”
He gave a snort of laughter. “I imagine I don’t.”
“Turn around again, would you?” I picked up the soap, worked up a lather, and began rubbing my hands over his shoulders and down the line of his spine to cup his ass. “I let Novotny know we’d stop by later.”
“Thank you. I wouldn’t want Mother to worry.” He leaned back against me.
“Mmm.” I reached around and ran my palms from his chest to his abdomen, then cupped his balls with one hand while I stroked his cock with the other. “I… uh…” Why was it so hard for me to say this? “I thought we might….”
He angled forward and glanced over his shoulder at me. “Mark Vincent at a loss for words? What’s going on?”
“I want you to fuck me.” I offered him the soap. I always loved the feel of his hands on me, but when soap was involved… Very nice.
He turned in my arms, took the soap, and brushed the hair out of his eyes with his forearm. “I… I wasn’t sure you’d want that.”
I wanted to kick myself in the ass. Last year, after the first time he’d fucked me, I’d—not panicked, because fuck it, I didn’t do panic—but I’d thought we were ge
tting too close too quickly. Yeah, that and the fact that my old lady had finally kicked the bucket… those were the reasons why I’d split to Fall River, MA. and broke up with him by leaving a note on his pillow. I should have realized that would tick him off. Only he came after me. But because of that, Quinn tended to tiptoe around me when it came to switching off.
“I want it. I just… I’m sorry, I was selfish about it.”
“Excuse me?”
“I love being inside you without having anything between us. I can’t get enough of it.” I thought of the first time Quinn and I had made love without a condom. He’d been absolutely wild that night—I never knew anyone who enjoyed bottoming as much as he did—and we’d been like teenagers, unable to keep our hands off each other. Who’d have thought we’d react to the absence of a piece of latex that way? “But I should have given you the opportunity to enjoy it as well.”
“Thank you.”
“So… uh… how much cleaner do we have to get?”
His eyes crinkled in amusement as he ran his fingers along the crack of my ass, making me jump when he teased the rim of my hole. Then he slid an arm around my neck and pulled my head down. “I think we’re clean enough.” He rubbed his lips over mine, and I parted them so he could slip his tongue into my mouth.
I hummed softly and sank into the kiss. I loved his taste, whether it was after he’d had a cup of coffee or a glass of wine, had just finished sucking me off, or nothing at all except pure Quinn. I even loved the way those Life Savers of his gave his kisses a bit of a bite.
He planted one last kiss on my lips and stepped back. That lock of hair was in his eyes again, and this time, I pushed it to the side.
“Okay, then,” I said. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“Sounds good to me.”
It must have. He’d remained half hard all this time, and now he was on his way to a full-on erection.
I reached out to turn off the shower and pulled a towel from the warming bar.
I almost always took the more active role, although Quinn could be a really pushy bottom, but not this time. This time it was going to be all about him and what he wanted.
I rubbed the towel over his body while I nibbled from his shoulder to his neck, up to his ear, to his cheek, and finally that mouth of his.
