by Jayne Rylon
“Mmmhmm.” You can say a lot with two hums. His are filled with appreciation, envy, annoyance, and regret. Score. “I’ve been building a file on your boyfriend. Do you have any idea how loaded he is?”
“Generally. Pretty damn loaded.” I don’t hold back. If it hurts Cortez to hear me say this, he deserves it. “I don’t love him for his money.”
“He’s that good in bed, huh?” Cortez curses. “Don’t answer that.”
“Wasn’t planning on it, asshole. Our private life is none of your business.”
“Agreed. Don’t go, okay? I was asking if you’re all right because a while back I heard there was some kind of incident at the gallery with Ronaldo Pires. What the hell was that about? Were you tangled up with guys taking advantage of you before Rogan came into the picture? Did that jerk put his hands on you?” His anger fades then, leaving him sounding…weary. “I’ve been going crazy since they told me he hurt someone at your place. I tried to get to you sooner. I—I couldn’t.”
“Calm down, Cortez.” His outpouring of information might not seem like much to someone who doesn’t know him well. To me it proclaimed Cortez was nearly hysterical beneath the stony mask he’s been trained to wear.
“Have you ever noticed that telling someone to calm down does everything except make them calmer?”
I try not to laugh. It’s impossible. I’ve missed our banter and my uncanny ability to frustrate him. My mischievous streak used to adore toying with him until he forced me to behave.
Shit. Focus.
“Ronaldo is a steaming sack of shit. He didn’t do anything to me directly, though.” I clear my throat, wondering how much to disclose. Truth is, if he’s going to protect Rogan, he needs to know it all. “It’s Rogan he’s bullying.”
“So you’re saying that Ronaldo broke Rogan’s arm?” He pauses. “I’m confused. Were they fighting over you? Maybe that dumb fuck saw his chance after I left and came on to you or pressured you like he used to do to the guys at the club. Your new man wasn’t having any of that. That’s what happened, right?”
“Uh, no.” Awkward. “Ronaldo and Rogan used to be a couple. Lived together and everything. For years. Even during those times we saw Captain Douchebag screwing around on Rogan with anyone naive enough to suck his cock or bend over for him at Romeo & Julian. And since Rogan caught on to his shenanigans and cut him off, Ronaldo decided he doesn’t like being poor very much. The incident in the alley behind our house…well, that’s kind of related to why I’m calling.”
“Sorry, Kaden, can you back up?” Cortez is speaking slowly. I can hear the gears in his mind turning. “Rogan and Ronaldo? How does that work? Seems like they’d tear each other apart.”
“It’s unwise for you to assume you know what went on in their bedroom. Or what happens in ours, for that matter. Rogan isn’t what he looks like. He’s a dedicated bottom, okay?” I snap, pissed that I have to divulge any of our secrets.
Pause.
“And you…”
“I don’t kneel for anyone anymore.”
Longer pause.
“Hang on. You top that guy? Are you shitting me?” His voice turns gruff. It reminds me of the times we used to jack off together over the phone.
“What, you think I’m not capable of it?” I’m equal parts irritated and worried. Sometimes I wonder if I’m worthy of Rogan’s submission. Do I provide everything he needs? He hasn’t complained yet, but it’s relatively new to me, being on this side of the fence.
“I—uh—it caught me off guard, that’s all. I have a very different picture of you in my mind.” He practically purrs then. “Damn. That’s hot as fuck, Kaden. I’d give my left nut to see you like that with your pet.”
“Look, if we’re not capable of keeping things professional, maybe you’re not the person I need to be speaking with.” I can’t let anything he says soak in or it’ll turn me on. And then I’ll feel like I’m creeping around behind Rogan’s back. Exactly what he fears most. I need to get him help then hang up the fucking phone before I ruin the best thing in my life. “Cortez?”
“Sorry, I’m trying to wipe my mind clean so I can concentrate on what you’re saying.”
At least that was honest. I could respect that. I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t build me up to know I can still affect him.
So why did he throw me away?
Ugh. Who cares? “Anyway, I didn’t call you to talk about me, us, or what we used to have. There is only one thing I want from you.”
“Anything, Kaden.”
“Apply for the personal security position Rogan is hiring for. Ronaldo is blackmailing him over some pictures I took and Rogan doesn’t plan to give in to that piece of shit’s demands anymore. I won’t let him. This has to stop. Once and for all.”
“Hang on. You want me to guard your boyfriend’s ass for you? That’s fucked up.”
“Is it? You need a job, he needs protection from a dirtbag ex-boyfriend. I need to know he’s safe. Can you do it or not?”
“I’m in. But just so you know...I’ve got some issues of my own.”
“Will they interfere with guarding Rogan?”
He curses softly. “Probably not, but I do have kind of a bum leg. I’m on some heavy-duty pain medication for that and a bunch of burns that are still healing. Every day is better. So I’ll try not to take it when I’m on the clock. Sometimes there’s no other choice. In a really rough situation, it could matter. I’m not as fast as I used to be. But I’d take a bullet for him. Same as I would for you. Things between you two must be serious or you wouldn’t have reached out.”
Do not let the distress in his voice make you feel bad about that! I caution myself.
“What happened?” I ask quietly before I can tell myself it doesn’t matter. It does matter.
Despite how things ended up between us, I still care for him. Shit, love him. I’ve never lied to Rogan about my inability to sever our connection.
“Long story. Got blown up and toasted around the edges as a going away present at the end of my assignment. I’ll be fine. I just thought you should know in case you want someone…undamaged. Nothing to worry about, okay?”
Ha! The three of us are more alike than different. Hell, maybe everyone on the planet is cracked and barely glued back together. Living is hard. The alternative is worse.
“I’m not sure I believe you. But, okay. For now. Even injured, I’m sure you can squash Ronaldo without breaking a sweat. Keep him away from Rogan. Please?”
“I will. I’ll head over to his office right now. I won’t let anything happen to your guy.”
“Do whatever it takes to get that job. And…thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You know why? ’Cause it means you still trust me, Kaden. With the most important thing in your life.” He sighs, then murmurs, “I still love you, too.”
Well, it didn’t take long for both Rogan and Cortez to see right through me.
That’s the problem with being attracted to strong, intelligent guys.
“Fuck you. Don’t let me down this time.” I hang up on him.
I’m not as mad as I’d like to be about his audacity. Those three tiny words still have the power to touch me. Something inside my core stirs as though it isn’t actually dead but had only gone dormant when Cortez left me three years ago.
Uh oh.
29
Rogan
Two weeks later
How the hell am I supposed to concentrate when Santiago Cortez is like a vacuum, sucking the air out of my office, making me sweat? Sure, he’s sitting quietly in the corner with his bad leg propped on an ottoman. Not interrupting. Not drawing undue attention to himself as he scrolls through news articles on his phone, but damn.
Kaden severely understated how fucking attractive the man is. The more I get to know him, the more appealing he becomes. Quietly confident, serious about taking care of me, and unexpectedly chivalrous. He opens every door we walk through, insists on carrying my briefcase despite his physi
cal impairments, and has developed a habit of resting his hand on my lower back as he ushers me to and from the car, my office, and places I travel to for work. For my own safety, of course. Seriously, he doesn’t do it in a pervy way. It’s just the kind of man he is. It’s part of his nature. Like submitting is part of mine.
No wonder he tamed my headstrong, willful, and not-at-all meek boyfriend. Whew. I fan my face with the folder of contracts in front of me.
Physically, Santiago is imposing. Fierce, solid, and sexy with those craggy features and “fuck off” vibe. A current of something deeper runs underneath that tough façade. He keeps it carefully dammed. I’ve seen ripples at the surface, though. Mostly when Kaden is around. Or when we trade stories about him.
I peek at him over the top of my monitor, imagining what I would have seen if I could have spied on him and Kaden getting it on. I loosen my tie and tug at the collar of my shirt before tapping the intercom button and asking my assistant to turn the air-conditioning on high for the third time today.
Santiago looks at me, one of his brows raised. “You’re awfully hot-blooded. Why not take your jacket off? I won’t tell.”
I don’t think Kaden would approve of me stripping in front of his ex. “I’m fine.”
He shrugs, then rises, ambling to the full wall of windows that overlooks the city. He moves slowly to disguise the worst of his limp. Clasping his hands behind his back, he spreads his feet wide and stands super straight despite the taut patches of waxy skin visible on the back of his neck, the side of his face, his hands, and…well…pretty much everywhere.
Heaven help me.
The man is even more damaged than Kaden—spiritually, mentally, and physically. By now, we know how much that makes me want to love him. To fix him.
I’m going to have to come clean to Kaden tonight. Tell him we need to hire someone else. Anyone else. Because every day that I’m cooped up in here with the other man my boyfriend adores, I start to understand why.
“You plan on staring at my ass all day or getting some work done? The sooner you finish, the sooner you can go home to Kaden and occupy him appropriately. He tends to get into trouble with no one around to keep him in line.”
I whip my gaze from Santiago’s magnificent glutes to my spreadsheet. It’s too late. He must have seen me gawking at him in the reflection of the window. Damn it. “Or the other way around, you mean?”
“Huh?” He angles his thick torso toward me so that he can stare at me directly.
“Kaden’s a lot different now than he was when you left.” I try not to hold it against him. It’s tough not to be indignant on my boyfriend’s behalf. This was the man who crushed his heart. Sent him into a tailspin that could easily have claimed his life. It’s wrong to rub Santiago’s face in what he sacrificed. Sometimes I can’t help it anyway. “He keeps me very happily occupied when we’re together.”
“Sorry. I forget sometimes. It’s a trip to watch you kick ass in your meetings, wringing more and more of your demands from your competitors. You’re a tough negotiator. Hell, my old bosses could have used someone like you when we were dealing with bad guys.” He squeezes his eyes closed for a moment, as if warding off terrible memories. “I think of Kaden as I knew him. That pairs up nicely with the side of you I see here. So it’s hard to remember things are flipped at home. I didn’t mean to insult you. I respect men who give everything to their lovers like that. Appreciate them.”
I nod, accepting his apology. It would be impossible not to when he’s looking at me like a diabetic drooling over a gourmet triple-chocolate cake. No amount of air-conditioning is going to cool me off if he keeps staring at me, practically licking his lips.
“It must be such a relief for you.” He wanders closer, perching on the edge of my desk.
Of course he gets it. “It is. Completely freeing. I don’t have to strategize—debate what move to make next, muster bravado, or carefully weigh my options. I only have to respond and trust Kaden to take care of me. He knows what I need. Maybe because he needs it too. Or…used to, I mean.”
“Wait, you think he still might?”
I don’t answer. Where’s the line between Kaden’s confidence and Santiago’s curiosity? If I don’t talk through this with the one person who might be capable of understanding, maybe we’ll never iron out enough wrinkles in our relationship to make it last.
“Rogan?” The command in Santiago’s tone is absolute. The part of me that responds to direction stands at attention. My loyalty keeps me from divulging my suspicions. Stuck, I can’t prevent my gaze from dropping to my folded hands when he scrutinizes me with that exceptional intensity that dominant guys have.
My reaction is instinct. Ingrained. Reflexive.
Answer enough for him.
“Holy shit.” He shocks me by putting his fist beneath my chin and tipping my face toward him. “You really are lovely. Kaden has something special.”
I feel exposed, naked in front of him, as he really sees me for the first time.
“Wow,” he exclaims in awe. It’s almost worth my embarrassment to catch him flatfooted. “I’m not trying to take advantage of your nature to dig into your personal life.”
I don’t back talk him. Nor do I believe him.
It’s second nature for him to twist me up and discover my inner workings so that he can exploit those idiosyncrasies either to give pleasure or withhold it. “Not intentionally.”
“We are who we are, right?” He shrugs, then staggers as he puts some distance between us. He settles onto the couch, stretching his arms out along its back and letting his legs fall wide open, as if his cock and balls are too big to be confined by a more polite set of his knees.
I can’t speak. The room is spinning and I’m not sure what to do. I wish Kaden were here to tell me how to react. Reassure me I’m not doing anything wrong by having this frank conversation.
“I don’t blame you for hating me,” he says then. “Either of you guys.”
“You broke him.” The accusation flies out before I can swallow it.
“I know.” He drops his head onto the tops of the cushions and stares at the ceiling. “For the record, I broke myself at the same time.”
“You don’t know. He fell into a horrible depression. Turned to drugs, alcohol, and reckless sex with pretty much every guy in the city to nurse his wounds.” Every time I think about how he abused himself, I’m simultaneously furious and dismayed. And so damn glad he’s still alive. “It took years for him to claw his way out of that hole. Even now, I’m not sure he’s all the way there.”
“Son of a bitch! What else was I supposed to do, Rogan?”
“Tell him you’d come back for him, no matter how long it took.”
“Are you kidding me? How could I promise that? Look at me!” He barks, making me flinch. “And this is just the stuff you can see. The invisible scars are a helluva lot worse. I can’t walk down the street without checking over my shoulder. A can of coffee fell off the shelf at the grocery store yesterday. When it hit the ground with a bang, I nearly demolition derbied someone’s granny with my cart. I envisioned smashing a glass jar and slicing her throat in self defense before I could convince myself I was safe in a neighborhood shop, where she wasn’t actually some kind of nefarious secret agent wearing a gray wig and wire rimmed glasses as a disguise so she could end me. I didn’t know if I’d ever come home or if I’d be suitable boyfriend material when I got here. I wasn’t about to doom him to waiting indefinitely. At least this way he moved on and was free to love you.”
Well.
Okay. The man has a point there.
As if talking about his injuries makes them throb, he rubs his hip.
“That really hurts, doesn’t it?”
“Standing a few feet from an exploding bomb leaves an impression.” He shrugs. “It could have been a lot worse. Believe me.”
The unshielded agony in his stare nearly shoves my chair back. This is a side of him he doesn’t show many people. Maybe
no one, now that he’s lost Kaden.
I can’t ignore his suffering. It’s not who I am, even if it means I might have some explaining to do to my boyfriend later.
Santiago is drawing me in, whether or not he means to.
“You lost someone that day…when you got hurt, I mean.” I rise from my desk and join him on the sofa. I tuck one knee under me and sit sideways, my other foot still planted on the floor, so I can face him. “I’m sorry. Truly. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Haven’t you realized by now, I’m not the chatty sort?”
Deflection isn’t effective on me. Not after years of high-stakes deal making. “Too bad. I’ve been told I’m a good listener. I promise what you say will stay with me unless you give me permission to share.”
“A persuasive fucker, too.” He wipes his palm over his mouth. “I’m only telling you this because I want you to understand. I didn’t hurt Kaden on accident. Or because I didn’t care. I loved him. Not with a Hallmark card, once a year on Valentine’s Day, flippant, throwaway sort of love either. I mean the kind that scorches because it’s so bright and hot. Eternal. That’s not a surprise to you, is it?”
I shake my head. Nor is it unfamiliar. He’s describing exactly how I feel for Kaden. I imagine what it would be like if I had to give that up. For the first time, I pity Santiago as much as I do my own boyfriend.
“I can’t tell you where I was or why. I’ll say this. My cover story…I acted as a priest. The entire time I was gone, I lived that life. In every way.”
My eyes grow wide as I consider how unsaintly Kaden was while they were apart. It seems like they went in opposite directions after their paths diverged. “Are you saying…?”
He grunts. “Yup. If it wasn’t for my hand, my cock and balls would have fallen off from disuse by now.”
The bulge of his package, which constantly distracts me, broadcasts that he’s still in possession of his important parts.
