by Laura Kaye
She smiled. “The way he gravitates to you. The way he looks at you, especially when you’re not looking. And the fact that he’s talked to you about what happened yesterday when he won’t with me or Nick. And we’ve both tried.”
“Oh.” Charlie’s brain struggled to process everything she’d said.
“I’ll talk to you later,” she said, when he didn’t say anything further.
For a long moment, Charlie stood there, truly dumbfounded. Kat thought Jeremy liked him? And that Charlie was good for Jeremy? His stomach went for a loop-the-loop.
“Hey, Charlie?” Marz called from across the gym.
The words snapped him from his stupor, and Charlie crossed the space and hoped the others wouldn’t realize how shell shocked he felt. “I’m here,” he said.
“Good deal,” Marz said. “Then help me kick some computer ass?”
Charlie smiled. Marz always had a way with words, and his easygoing, lighthearted nature put Charlie at ease. As did the fact that they both worked in the same field. It gave him a starting point of common interest with Marz that Charlie didn’t find with many people.
And that was when Charlie realized that one of the worst situations of his life—being kidnapped and tortured—had led to one of the best. Before being grabbed by the Church Gang, most of Charlie’s life had consisted of doing his computer security consulting services from his basement apartment. He’d been alone almost all of the time. Now, he had more friends and, frankly, just basic human interaction, than he’d ever had. And he didn’t want to lose that.
“Yeah,” Charlie said. “Kicking computer ass, it is.”
“THIS WAS THE second location I had in mind,” Jeremy said to Beckett as they entered the fourth floor of the abandoned warehouse diagonally across the intersection from Hard Ink. They’d already chosen the first location—the fifth floor of another abandoned building that stood a full block up the street and allowed panoramic views of Eastern Avenue, the main artery into Jeremy’s neighborhood.
Beckett and Dare crossed to the windows, which had long since lost their glass panes. Beckett nodded. “Perfect vantage point of Hard Ink and of the approach from two directions.”
Dare nodded. “You can even see the roadblocks,” he said, pointing to something off in the distance.
Jeremy came up beside him and saw a truck unloading jersey barriers and fencing about three blocks down. Guess Detective Vance had come through. Glancing at Dare, Jeremy realized his gaze had latched on to something much closer. The avalanche of rubble still piled in front of the collapsed section of the Hard Ink building.
A rock formed in Jeremy’s gut. From this vantage point, the whole building was visible from the roof down. His stomach tossed like he’d just crested the highest, sharpest hill on a roller coaster. Because he’d been standing on a part of the roof that no longer existed. And he’d nearly fallen three stories to his death.
Just as two other men had.
The words were out of Jeremy’s mouth before he’d even thought to say them. “I’m so sorry your guys died, Dare. It’s all my fault.”
Nearly black eyes cut Jeremy’s way. “How do you mean?”
From beyond Dare, Beckett’s blue eyes stared at Jeremy, making it clear that Beckett waited for the answer, too.
“I froze. When it happened. If I’d reacted faster—hell, if I’d reacted at all, Nick could’ve gotten to them instead.” The oddest lightness of being fell over Jeremy at the admission of his guilt to the man most likely to want to do something about it, even as his muscles braced for the consequences.
Dare’s gaze narrowed, but then he shook his head. “Life deals us shit hands sometimes. Harvey and Creed got dealt theirs. That’s not on you.” He turned away from the window as if that settled it.
Jeremy released a long breath. Somehow, he felt simultaneously relieved and confused. Relieved that Dare didn’t mete out some biker justice on his ass, but confused as hell about why his confession and Dare’s apparent forgiveness didn’t make him feel all that much better.
Beckett looked at him for a long moment, that piercing blue stare making Jeremy want to squirm. Finally, Beckett turned away. “Yeah. I think you nailed this one. It doesn’t even need the work the other location did.” They’d had to haul debris away from the two windows they wanted to use in the other building, and shore up the ceiling over the window that gave them the best overlook of Hard Ink’s street.
Just then, a distant roar rumbled from somewhere nearby.
“Sounds like the rest of the club’s here,” Dare said. “We good?”
Beckett nodded. “Jeremy and I can take care of provisioning the spaces.”
“Good enough,” Dare said, and then he disappeared into the stairwell. The sound of his boots echoed against the concrete and steel.
Scrubbing a hand through his short dark blond hair, Beckett turned to him. “Have you, uh, talked to anyone? About that?” he asked, gesturing toward the window.
Jeremy frowned and ducked his chin. Both Nick and Kat had come to his room to try to talk to him yesterday afternoon, but, really, what else were they going to tell their brother other than it wasn’t his fault?
But who else did that leave to talk—
Charlie. And Charlie had been up there, so he knew what’d happened. He’d experienced it firsthand. He knew what it was.
Shaking his head, Jeremy stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets and said, “Not much.”
Beckett sighed. “Look, I’m shit at . . . you know . . .” He waved as if searching for the word and hoping Jeremy would understand.
“Social interaction?” Jeremy offered with a wink.
Chuffing out a laugh, Beckett nodded. “Yeah, that. Fucking Rixey sarcasm. It never ends, does it?”
Jeremy grinned, not just because Beckett had unwittingly lightened the mood, but because he knew another Rixey who had been unloading all kinds of Rixey sarcasm on Beckett the past few days. His sister. “No, Trigger,” he said, using Kat’s nickname for the big guy. “It never does.”
“Aw, for fuck’s sake. Goddamned Trigger. It wasn’t my fault that she—”
“I know. I know,” Jeremy said, laughing. “You know, the more you let her get to you, the more she’s gonna come after you, right? That’s part of the fun.”
Beckett scowled, the expression deepening the scars around his right eye. “Yeah, well . . . she doesn’t get to me. So it’s not a problem.” He made for the stairwell. “Let’s go.”
“Uh-huh,” Jeremy murmured to himself, still smiling. “If you say so.”
“I do,” Beckett said, starting down. “Can we be done with sharing time now?”
Jeremy kept his amusement to himself as he followed Beckett down, because it seemed to him that Kat had already gotten pretty far under his skin and the big guy just didn’t know it.
Not that Jeremy could talk when it came to letting someone get under your skin. Because Charlie was definitely under his. The only difference was that Jeremy wanted Charlie there and absofreakinglutely planned to do something about it.
Chapter 5
AFTER HE AND Beckett loaded all the supplies into both snipers’ roosts—sleeping bags, bottled water, snacks, ammunition, and binoculars—both regular and night-vision—Jeremy went back to the gym to see how else he could help. He found four new computers set up on a pair of folding tables and Becca, Sara, Jenna, and Kat already at work reading documents on them.
What he didn’t find was Charlie.
“Need me for anything right now, Marz?” Jeremy asked.
The guy ran a hand through his brown hair and then he shook his head. “Nope. Looks like we have everything under control for these five minutes.” Marz winked.
“Nick out with Vance?” he asked, wanting something to do. Some way to contribute.
“Yeah. The city sent a whole team of workers and
it sounds like they’re making good progress.” Marz popped a pretzel in his mouth. “Lookouts all set up?”
Jeremy nodded. “Good to go.”
“Show me where,” Marz said, waving him around so he could see the computer screen. A map of the neighborhood appeared.
“What are those little icons?” Jeremy asked, looking at about a half dozen or more black circles that ran down the street.
“Our security cameras.” He ate another pretzel then rubbed his hands together. “Okay. Where are they?”
Jeremy pointed out the two locations, and Marz marked them with an eyeball symbol. “Very apropos.”
“Right?” Marz said with a laugh.
“So, uh, where’s Charlie?” Jeremy asked.
“Hand was bothering him. As soon as we got the new computers up and running, Becca and I ganged up on him and made him go take a break,” Marz said. “Guy’s only two weeks out from an amputation. He needed some downtime.”
“Oh. Damn. I hope he’s okay,” Jeremy said, concern crawling into his gut. He’d spent many hours at Charlie’s bedside in the days after his rescue. The amputation site had been infected and Charlie had very quickly spiked a high fever that made them realize he needed further treatment. It had been serious, and not a little scary, for a few days there.
“He took some meds so I’m sure he will be. But I bet he’d enjoy some company,” Marz said, grinning.
Was Jeremy imagining it, or was that smile just a little more suggestive than normal? Jeremy arched a brow at him, and Marz laughed. Shaking his head and chuckling, Jeremy said, “It’s a good thing I am supremely great company, then.” He turned to go.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Marz said, his tone dripping with innuendo.
Jeremy smirked over his shoulder. “Kinda leaves the playing field wide open, doesn’t it?”
Marz laughed and nodded.
While it was always great to have a friend’s support, Jeremy didn’t actually care what anyone thought about who he saw. He’d put up with some punk-ass bullshit from people before when he’d gone out with men. It was sorta par for the course. You were going along, having a great time and minding your own business, when someone’s bigotry just up and smacked you in the face. Like the time, back when he still worked for someone else’s shop, when a customer refused to let Jeremy do his ink because he’d seen him out with another man. That shit didn’t just sting, it fucked with his livelihood. Luckily, his employer and mentor, Aleck—the guy who’d made him see that his background in art could find an outlet in tattooing—didn’t stand for that bullshit for one minute, and he’d asked the asshole to leave.
Not that Jeremy expected anything like that from these guys. Not when Nick had always been so cool with whoever Jeremy chose to be with. And not when the whole team had been so accepting of Charlie—hell, they’d risked their lives to save him—knowing he was gay and that Charlie and his father, who was also the team’s commander, had had a falling out over it. Not one of them had blinked an eye. In fact, the only murmurings Jeremy had heard were ones of disappointment in the colonel.
Still, cart before horse much?
Yeah, probably. But there was one way to fix that, wasn’t there?
Back in his apartment, Jeremy walked through the big open space that made up the combination kitchen and living room. With its exposed brick walls, unfinished industrial ceiling, and big leather couches, it was his favorite room in the whole place. Rehabbing an abandoned factory into a business and a kick-ass loft apartment—so far—was something he was hugely proud of. Whether it was drawing or painting or renovating or building something from scratch, Jeremy had always loved working with his hands, and buying this building had pressed every one of those buttons.
Usually, the big windows that stretched to the ceiling meant it was also full of light, but they’d hung blackout curtains to mask their presence in the building from outside eyes. Jeremy couldn’t imagine—or, at least, didn’t want to imagine—what might’ve happened during the attack if they hadn’t taken the precaution of making it look like the other half of the building was inhabited and the inhabited half was abandoned and empty.
Passing the big kitchen island, Jeremy crossed into the hallway that led to all the bedrooms. His pulse kicked up at the thought of seeing Charlie, touching him, kissing him. Jer had nearly died yesterday, after all, so it was about damn time.
He paused in front of Charlie’s bedroom door, took a deep breath, and knocked.
The door opened, the dim glow of a bedside lamp the only light in the room. “Hey,” Charlie said. He dropped his gaze and stepped backward, as if he was inviting Jeremy in but uncomfortable doing it.
Jeremy wasn’t having that. Not for one more second. Two steps had Charlie in his arms, their bodies crashing together, and Jeremy’s mouth firmly, possessively, and unreservedly claiming Charlie’s.
Burying his hands in the long strands of Charlie’s soft hair, Jeremy devoured Charlie’s lips and nearly groaned when he opened his mouth, allowing Jeremy to deepen the kiss. Charlie tasted like sweet, innocent temptation, and Jeremy wanted to consume every last bite. He stroked and sucked at Charlie’s tongue, tightened his hands in his hair, and tugged their bodies flush until all Jeremy could feel, taste, and smell was Charlie.
Charlie moaned deep in his throat, and the sound shot right to Jeremy’s dick, hardening him in an instant. Jeremy wasn’t alone. The way they were pressed together made it crystal fucking clear that Charlie wanted this every bit as bad. When Charlie’s hands settled on Jeremy’s hips, then slowly, tentatively, so damn maddeningly stroked at his sides, his back, and then his ass, Jeremy groaned and finally had to break the kiss or risk having this be over before it’d really begun.
“Jesus, Charlie. I’ve been dying to do that for so long,” Jeremy said, cupping the side of Charlie’s face in his hand. Stubble tickled Jeremy’s palm, and that roughness, that hardness, was one of the things he most loved about being with a man.
“You have?” Charlie rasped, his good hand fisting in Jer’s shirt.
“Hell, yeah. I just wasn’t sure where you were until this morning.” Jeremy captured Charlie’s bottom lip between his and sucked and tugged until Charlie’s hips thrust against his. The motion rubbed their cocks together through their jeans, and the friction was both breath stealing and not nearly enough.
Jeremy nibbled and kissed at Charlie’s jaw, his throat, the sensitive spot behind his ear. Charlie’s hand grasped Jeremy’s head, holding him and encouraging him not to stop.
“Aw, God,” Charlie moaned. “Jeremy.”
Damn, if Jeremy didn’t love the sound of his name on Charlie’s lips. He ran his tongue down the side of Charlie’s throat until he reached the tendon that stretched to his shoulder.
“Can we . . . uh . . .”
Jeremy withdrew so he could look into Charlie’s eyes. “What?”
Charlie’s gaze darted toward the open door. He didn’t even have to voice the words, because discomfort rolled off of him.
“Damn, I’m sorry. Wasn’t thinking,” Jeremy said as he pushed the door closed. “At least, not about that.” He winked.
Heat rushed into Charlie’s cheeks. “It’s okay. It’s just that . . .” He shrugged. “I . . .”
Wanting to put him at ease, Jeremy cupped his hand around Charlie’s neck. “No need to explain, Charlie. I have no interest in sharing my first kiss with you with anyone else, either.”
Charlie smiled, and it was such a rare thing to see. It totally lit Jeremy up inside.
“Are you okay with this? And are you feeling okay? Marz said your hand was hurting,” Jeremy said, not wanting to take Charlie anywhere he wasn’t ready to go, especially if he wasn’t feeling good.
“I’m okay” Charlie said, dropping his gaze. “I don’t want this to be over. I’m sorry I worried about the do—”
&n
bsp; Jeremy kissed Charlie again, cutting off the words and hopefully allaying his concerns at the same time. Because Jeremy wasn’t done. Not by a long shot. He pushed Charlie back one step, then another, until his back hit the wall. The most delicious moan spilled out of Charlie’s mouth. Jeremy could’ve lived on those fucking noises if he had to.
The kiss went on and on. They nibbled, sucked, penetrated, and retreated until they were both breathless, hot, and so damn hard it nearly hurt. Their hands grasped and stroked and explored and their hips ground together as they pressed and thrust. The sounds of panting and breathy moans and shifting denim filled the room.
“What do you want, Charlie?” Jeremy whispered around the edge of their kiss.
“I . . . I’m not sure,” he said, his blue eyes pleading. “Just . . . more.”
Jeremy pressed his lips to Charlie’s ear. “Can I touch you?”
Charlie nodded. “Yes.”
“Anywhere?” Jeremy asked.
A shiver passed over Charlie’s body. And damn if that wasn’t sexy as hell. “Please,” he whispered.
Slowly, Jeremy ran his hands down Charlie’s chest, then his sides, until he could finally do what he’d yearned to do this morning—burrow under the T-shirt and touch him skin to skin.
Charlie sucked in a breath at the contact, and the sound both aroused and cautioned Jeremy not to go too fast. He had no idea what kind of experience Charlie might have under his belt, but nothing about him read as a casual sex kinda guy. Unlike Jeremy, for whom sex was unquestionably his favorite form of exercise. No better reason to get hot and sweaty.
He dragged his fingertips up Charlie’s stomach to his chest, loving the feeling of his muscles jumping and twitching, until he exposed his nipples. Light blond hair thinly covered the center of the man’s chest, and Jeremy licked his lips as a yearning to taste flooded through him.
“Take it off,” Jeremy said. They worked the shirt off together.
“Yours, too,” Charlie said, his words shaky and quiet. Like he was nervous. Or unsure.
