In My Arms Tonight

by Bailey Bradford

  Horrified, Glenn jerked his head forward then looked down and wondered when the hell he’d lost control of himself. Then he wondered what kind of game James was playing, because the man hated him, and here James was, putting on a little show, and he had Glenn wrapped around his finger, and he had to know that, otherwise, why the display?

  And why the hell had he come in his pants like that? Jesus, he had more fucking control than that! “Right,” Glenn snorted, because obviously he didn’t. Movement in his peripheral vision caught his eye and Glenn glanced up to find James slowly walking towards him, looking so nervous and hesitant it made Glenn ache to comfort him, made him wish he could believe it, but he was so desperately screwed up when it came to James, and the man clearly hadn’t wanted anything to do with him. He wanted to get out of the car regardless, and tell James so many things…

  Instead he turned away and put his foot on the gas. Whatever game James was playing, Glenn didn’t want to be a part of it, and if the man found out how easily he’d made Glenn come, Glenn didn’t think he could survive the humiliation.

  “No more,” he vowed as he pulled away, trying to keep from slinging gravel and God knows what else behind him, but fear and panic were chewing at his spine and he couldn’t get away fast enough.

  James was doing better, and Glenn was comforted by that. The fact that the man possibly knew how hung up on him Glenn was, and had decided to mess with him, that wasn’t so comforting. Still, he was glad to have seen James, seen for himself the man was improving, still looking a little thin but somewhat more like his old self—except for the curls.

  Glenn really liked those curls, not that he ever thought he’d get a chance to touch them.

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  IN MY ARMS TONIGHT

  Bailey Bradford

  79

  Ignoring the familiar pain he often felt when thinking about James and the hopelessness of his infatuation with the man, Glenn turned towards his place instead of the office. He had a mess to clean up before returning to work, then he was going to go finish his shift—then he’d figure out how to get over James, or at least how to have some semblance of a life, even if it was just a sex life without any deeper emotions involved.

  He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t think his brilliant plan to wait outside for Glenn’s daily drive-by, to not so subtly show the man he was interested, had done much good. James was actually pretty sure Glenn had looked utterly horrified there at that last moment, before he’d driven off in a flurry of gravel and dust and exhaust fumes.

  But before that, James would have sworn he could have reached out and touched the attraction shimmering between them. It tugged at him from low in his gut, hot and tight and fluttery and stretched across the distance to Glenn. James knew it had, damn it! He hadn’t imagined that sizzling in his veins, the way Glenn’s gaze had heated his skin and hardened his dick.

  James had felt his interest, had been exceedingly aware of the way Glenn devoured him visually, and he’d tried to encourage the man, had stroked down the path he thought Glenn’s gaze was taking. His nipples had been taut and tingling, aching for a touch. James hadn’t felt like that in so long, he’d probably got carried away, but to feel so aroused had been a gift he couldn’t reject. Hell, as hot as he’d been just from Glenn watching him, he’d probably have beat off right there in the front yard!

  Which would have been really stupid, he scolded himself. The man was a cop, if James had whipped out his dick and started jacking off he’d probably have ended up in jail.

  Or maybe not, he mused as he watched Glenn take the turn almost on two wheels.

  Maybe Glenn was running for another, more promising reason. James smiled as he pressed a hand against his erection. That fit, or maybe he just preferred to believe it, but he didn’t think he was wrong.

  Glenn had been driving by here regularly. James had caught glimpses when he’d been walking to Chase’s house to borrow movies, something he did every day while his friends www.total-e-bound.com

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  were at work. He got so bored, and Xavier and Chase had every movie ever made, or damn near about.

  The first time he’d seen the cop car, James had dropped back behind a clump of oleander, his heart pounding in his throat. When he’d seen that it was Glenn driving, he’d felt a burst of hope. The next day, it had happened again, and from then on James had lurked behind the deadly plant, watching, waiting, which would have been totally creepy except Glenn came, every day except when the club was closed. James had felt like an idiot trying to hide from everyone on those days, but it kind of firmed up his theory. Glenn was driving by for him, or at least he hoped that was the case. Today seemed to prove it, although he wondered about the hasty retreat.

  Well, duh, dumbass. He’s been driving by here for how long now, and then poof! There I am, standing outside, on the verge of committing a lewd act in public. No wonder he took off. He probably thought I was just fucking with him.

  James huffed a soft laugh. He wanted to fuck Glenn, fuck with him in the most carnal, intimate way, but he didn’t want to screw with the man’s mind. Satisfied he’d worked out the most likely scenario for what had happened, James turned and headed back to his apartment. He had plans to make and courage to dredge up.

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  IN MY ARMS TONIGHT

  Bailey Bradford

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  Chapter Eighteen

  A restless night provided Glenn with a different perspective on the not quite encounter with James the day before. He might be wrong, maybe he was actually being played, but the possibility that he wasn’t… That thin thread of hope had filled the early morning hours with what-ifs and fantasies that threatened to scorch the skin right off him.

  The idea of James touching him, taking him, heated Glenn through to his core.

  He tried not to delude himself into thinking James wanted him for anything more than a fuck. Glenn had had nothing but time to think about James’ anger, and he’d concluded part of it was due to hating the fact that James thought Glenn saw him as a victim, which too many people equated with being weak. Glenn knew better; he’d seen people get past that, seen them refuse to wear that label, refuse to let it crush them. James was strong, stronger than Glenn probably.

  Maybe he was angry, too, that he hadn’t been rescued sooner, but Glenn didn’t think that was it. He didn’t know for certain, though, and he’d realised there was only one way to find out. He’d stayed away from James for months now, thinking the man wouldn’t want anything to do with him.

  That wasn’t all of it. Glenn grimaced, wishing he could kick his own ass for being so stupid. It’d taken a lot of soul searching, but he knew now he’d backed away—hell, he’d practically run, hadn’t he?—because he was scared. James had the power to hurt him like no one else could, and after that last blow to his ego, that last kick to his heart, Glenn had retreated and told himself he was doing so for James’ sake.

  While that was partially true, Glenn didn’t have to completely avoid the man like he had, refusing Xavier and Chase’s invites to come over any time he thought James might be there. And yet he’d driven by, like some lovesick fool, day after day. Why? Because he was terrified of the power James could have—did have, to some extent. He’d hidden away, at least from James, all in an attempt to keep himself safe. In fact, if Les hadn’t been so convincing, Glenn would have left and found that nice beach he kept dreaming about. Except in his dreams, James was with him.

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  Now, as Glenn smeared shaving cream over his cheeks and chin, then down his neck, he realised that whatever it was he felt for James, it shouldn’t be about power. He didn’t want to be in a pissing match with the man, and, unless James had had a total personality implant, James wasn’t the type for such shit either. Everything Glenn knew a
bout James made him out to be an incredible man—intelligent, kind, compassionate, fair—just every lonely man or woman’s dream. Rollins couldn’t have changed that; maybe what had happened to James had buried part of that for a while, but it would rise back to the surface.

  Whether or not he would want Glenn then was something only time would tell—but he surely wouldn’t be encouraged to do so if Glenn was nothing more than a ghost in his past.

  And besides, after the display yesterday, Glenn thought James didn’t really want him to be a ghost. Again, there were lots of maybes involved. Maybe James was screwing with him and Glenn had it all wrong about the kind of man James was. Maybe James was just ready to delve into sex again and knew Glenn would be willing. All James would have to do was think about the fact that Glenn had followed him here, was still here, and he’d piece it together and know he could have Glenn at the snap of his fingers. Or pants buttons.—maybe he just wanted to test out his seduction skills before putting them to use elsewhere.

  All maybes, and Glenn could sit and work them around and around in his head for the rest of his life without having any concrete answers.

  Or, he could go to work, come home and clean up, then re-attach his balls—since they’d apparently went into hiding after the kitchen incident—and ask James, face to face, what was going on with that display yesterday.

  Just the thought of seeing James again, hearing his voice, set Glenn’s pulse to racing.

  He figured he did well only nicking himself twice while shaving, as he thought up scenarios for how the night could go.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” James muttered again, even as his dick throbbed hard and full against his thigh. Groaning at the discomfort that caused, he stripped off his jeans and boxers and put on a pair of sweats. He’d been hard more often than not since yesterday, but strangely reluctant to do anything about it. Something was brewing in the air, building inside www.total-e-bound.com

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  him, and he didn’t want to let the anticipation diminish because he couldn’t keep from beating off—although if it kept up much longer, he’d have to, or suffer some sort of permanent brain damage from blood loss upstairs.

  But he’d replayed every incident with Glenn over in his head, every conversation, every look, even the ones he’d rather forget. There was something very important there, in every encounter he’d had with Glenn, and James couldn’t believe it’d taken him so long to realise it. And it pissed him off in nine different directions that Rollins had fucked with him so much that he had missed seeing Glenn’s interest. It pissed him off even more that he’d been too fucked up to do anything about it even if he had noticed.

  James didn’t dwell on what had happened to him, per se, but he didn’t shy away from it. If something occurred that brought about a flashback or even just memories, he did his best to figure out what and why. Sometimes it made no sense; he’d be having a perfectly good day, nothing at all like the ones when he was held captive, then a flashback would slam into him and knock him on his ass. Maybe it was triggered by a thought, a sound, a scent—

  James didn’t have every detail of his time in hell memorised, not in his conscious memory.

  He thought it was better that way, otherwise he might never fully recover. But he sure hated it when the past came out of nowhere and ploughed over him.

  He hoped it wouldn’t happen in front of Glenn—and there would be a time, soon, when the two of them would be together, alone. There was unfinished business, at least on James’ part, and he was pretty sure on Glenn’s part. Otherwise, why had the man been making daily drive-bys?

  James closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself getting in a car and driving to Glenn’s place, wherever it was. His heartbeat accelerated immediately and a cold sweat broke out over his body. His fingers and toes tingled as his breath shortened, and James cursed himself, his parents, he cursed Rollins and everyone else who’d ever hurt him. Then he forced himself to breathe deeply, to unclench his fists and relax each muscle group one by one. His reaction frustrated him which, in turn, began to undo all the calm James had managed to gather.

  “Fuck it,” he rasped, opening his eyes and stumbling towards the bathroom. Dots in shades of black were dancing before his eyes when he opened the medicine cabinet. He www.total-e-bound.com

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  grabbed the bottle he thought was Xanax and quickly took the lid off, grateful his desperation lent him the wits to get past the childproof cap quickly.

  Once James had taken the anxiety medicine, he tried again to calm himself, having more success this time than the last. He hated having to use drugs to function, and rarely resorted to the Xanax, except when the panic came on too strong. James turned the sink on and cupped his hands under the faucet. The icy water soothed his heated face when he splashed it, and gradually, James relaxed enough to slap the toilet seat down and droop on the seat. He eyeballed the vial and saw that he had at least taken the right stuff, then he slumped over, trying not to think about whether it was gross or not to rest his head against the toilet tank.

  The porcelain tank lid felt cold against his wet cheek, but James didn’t care. He closed his eyes and dreamed of standing in the yard, touching himself while Glenn watched him with hungry eyes.

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  Chapter Nineteen

  Glenn huffed out a nervous breath as he checked himself out in the mirror. He didn’t want to look stodgy, and he didn’t want to look slutty. He wanted something in the middle, and hoped the loose fit Levi’s and the long sleeved navy blue shirt—which happened to set off his eyes, making them appear silver rather than their usual blue-grey—suited the appearance he was aiming for. Casual. Friendly. Not seductive. And not creepy stalkerish.

  And not a guy who came in his pants just from watching another man touch his goddamned nipple. Jesus!

  And now he had an erection to go with the scarlet flush staining his cheeks. Glenn groaned and closed his eyes, slapping a hand over them for good measure. How was he going to pull this off? He couldn’t possibly look at James without thinking about the other day! Glenn had thought of little else since, and now he’d decided to approach James, he’d probably pop wood and James would think he was a pervert, and Glenn wanted the man so bad his teeth ached from it.

  “Stop it. God!” He scrubbed his hand over his face, opening his eyes afterwards. A look in the mirror had him grimacing; he still had ruddy stripes on his cheeks. Glenn turned the sink on and splashed cool water over his face several times, then stopped and cursed when he saw he’d wetted the cuffs of his shirt. After Glenn dealt with that small mess, tossing the shirt in the dryer rather than spending another half hour trying to decide on a different shirt, he tried to imagine how the next few hours would play out.

  Would James even open his door once Glenn had knocked? Or would he ignore him?

  And if James did open the door, what then? Glenn wasn’t sure what he wanted to say to James—every time he tried to figure it out, the best he could come up with was an apology and some probably creepy stuff about how he’d been obsessed with James from the moment Glenn had read his file. Although, obsessed wasn’t the right word. Glenn was afraid what he felt was something stronger, something permanent that couldn’t be eradicated by time or distance.

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  Hell, he hadn’t even been able to put distance between them, not really. But he knew he’d been hiding regardless. Why should James believe he wanted to be a part of his life, wanted to be a lover and a friend, when Glenn had been too scared to even come around him since that day in James’ kitchen when he’d rightfully kicked Glenn’s ass? Granted, he hadn’t seen it for that at first, had thought
he was acceding to James’ wishes, but he hadn’t ever asked, had he? James might have wanted him to go away at first, but what if, during all this time, James had wished for it to be different between them? Glenn wouldn’t know, not unless James went through Chase or Xavier or someone else they both knew, and he didn’t think James would do that, just like he wouldn’t do it. So he’d left them both in a quandary—

  if James was interested.

  If he wasn’t interested, then that show out in the front yard was just plain cruel, and Glenn didn’t think James was a cruel man. He had to wonder, though, what it had cost James to do that. Had it been hard for him to show what was definitely a sexual side to himself?

  Glenn’s eyes widened. Did James think that was all Glenn wanted? Because, while the display had been nice—okay, it’d been fucking hot—Glenn would have been happier just to have a conversation with the man. Or was it that James just wanted sex? Had he got to the point where he was ready and saw Glenn as the easiest available possibility?

  This is getting me nowhere! Glenn huffed and shook his head as if to make his thoughts fall into line. He’d concluded earlier that James was the only one who’d be able to answer those sorts of questions. It was time Glenn got some answers, and maybe, if James wanted to listen, gave a few answers of his own.