Brad froze just inside the bathroom door. The room was amazing. It was all blue, white, and pale-green tiles with silver accents. There were two sinks. The separate shower was against one wall, while the back of the room held the tub. The tub was large enough to seat two easily and was under a skylight. Visions of sharing that tub with Patrick had Brad fighting back a moan. Entertaining thoughts like that would not help him shower quickly so he could snoop through the house.
Forcing his mind away from the tempting thoughts of a wet and naked Patrick, Brad began to open the cupboards, looking for an extra towel. He found one right away. Brad grabbed the large, fluffy blue bath sheet and hung it on a conveniently placed empty hook. He quickly shucked his boxers and stepped into the stand-alone shower. As he turned on the water, Brad took note of the space inside of the shower. He added the shower to the mental list of possible sex locations that he was making. Brad finished his shower, stepped out, and wrapped himself in the fluffy towel. After he dried off, he pulled on the clothes he had swiped from Patrick and left the bathroom.
Bingo was waiting for him in the bedroom. When she saw him, she got to her feet and wagged her tail. Brad felt a grin cross his face. He’d always wanted a dog when he was a kid, but his father was allergic. He had considered getting one when he got his own house, but with the weird hours he put in as a web designer and the nights he spent at the bar, he just hadn’t thought it would be fair to the dog. Bingo fell in step with him as he left the room.
Turning right would take him to the stairs and back to the main level of the house. Brad turned left. The hallway between rooms was lined with photographs. There were several pictures of a much younger Patrick with an older woman who must have been his grandmother. Brad looked closer and was able to see the resemblance to the young woman in the picture that his grandmother had shown him. He spotted one that must have been from when Patrick and Julian had been dating. They were on a campus somewhere with their arms around each other. Brad was about to head into the first room when one of the pictures caught his eye.
It was a black-and-white eight-by-ten in a simple frame. That wasn’t what caught Brad’s eye; the subject matter was. It was a picture of Patrick—he looked to be about twenty or so—sitting up in a bed. The sheets were pooled around his waist, hiding his lower body from view. His head was tilted slightly downward, with a lock of hair falling over his forehead, and his eyes were looking up at the camera. There was a sheepish look on his face that Brad found rather endearing. It made him want to know what had caused the look. Brad ran his fingers over the edge of the frame before moving on.
The next several pictures were of Patrick and a man with brown hair and blue eyes at various ages. Brad’s favorite was the one of Patrick and the unknown man—he was guessing it was Cam—covered in the end product of a food fight. The last picture on the wall was the most recent. Patrick was wearing his sling, and a casted Cam was in the arms of a blond man.
Abandoning the picture wall, Brad pushed open the door to the first room he encountered and stepped inside. He was standing in a home office. The desk was in one corner of the room with filing cabinets next to it. The rest of the walls were lined with bookshelves that held everything from adventure novels to cookbooks. Spotting more pictures on the desk, Brad walked closer. It was one of those frames that was three frames hinged together. The picture in the middle was Patrick holding a baby. The one on the left held a tattooed man and woman sitting with a small child. Brad turned to the remaining picture and felt his jaw drop.
He was in the picture. It had been taken at Hallie’s party. He and Patrick were on the ice rink. Brad had his arms around Patrick’s waist and was looking up at him with a smile on his face. Patrick was smiling as well. The picture was taken from the side, so he couldn’t see Patrick’s whole expression, but what Brad could see was enough. The picture was proof that he hadn’t imagined the way that Patrick felt about him. Brad had no idea who had taken the picture or how Patrick had managed to get it, but he wanted a copy.
Brad gave the picture a tap before he left the room. Bingo once again fell into step with him as he crossed the hall. The first door turned out to be another bathroom. It was smaller than the one attached to the bedroom, but just as nice. Next to the bathroom was a linen closet, and on the other side of the closet was a comfortable-looking guest room. The upstairs completely explored, Brad made his way down to the main level.
The main floor had two smaller rooms. One was set up with weights and a punching bag. The other was a half-bath. There were two rooms off of the entranceway. One held couches and a fireplace with a baby grand piano by the large front window, which was complete with window seat. The other had couches as well and also had Patrick’s home theater system. There were shelves full of DVDs and CDs, along with numerous pictures. None of the pictures seemed to have Patrick’s parents in them, which was understandable to Brad, but there didn’t seem to be any of him as a child.
Brad stepped into the final room on the main floor and looked around the spacious kitchen. The table off to one side looked like it could seat about six, maybe eight if they sat really close. All of the appliances seemed to be top-of-the-line, and there was a lot of counter space. While the room wasn’t that extravagant, Brad was pretty sure that he could fit his kitchen inside of the one he was standing in. As Brad moved further into the kitchen, Bingo headed to the back door and gave a soft bark. Brad opened the door for her and let her into the backyard. He was staring at Patrick’s coffee maker, trying to figure out how it worked, when the back door suddenly opened.
“Hey, Trick, I need to use the… you are not Patrick.”
Brad turned and saw a short blond man about his age standing just inside the door. “No, I am not Patrick.”
“Um, hi, I’m Keith.” Keith moved to one side to let Bingo back in the house. Hazel eyes looked Brad over from head to toe, and a bright smile crossed Keith’s face. “You’re Brad, aren’t you?”
“Um, yeah, I am.” Brad leaned against the counter and studied the other man.
“Wow, this is great. I would love to talk to you, but I need sleep in the worst way.”
“So you came here?”
“Yeah. I just got off a double shift at the hospital—I’m a nurse—and when I got back to my apartment, my neighbors were in the middle of having something installed or renovated. From the sounds, I think it’s the whole damn kitchen. I just need to sleep. I was hoping that Patrick would let me use the guest room.”
“I have no problem letting you use the guest room.”
“Thanks, man.” Keith looked down at his watch. “Um, wake me at three? That would give us some time to talk before Trick gets home.”
“Sure.”
“Cool.” Keith grinned and headed for the stairs. He paused before he left the kitchen and turned back to face Brad. “It really is great to meet you, Brad.”
“You too.” Brad couldn’t help but smile as Keith grinned at him before leaving the room. Keith’s good humor was infectious. Brad was about to go back to his study of the coffee maker when the house phone started to ring. He lunged across the kitchen and grabbed the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey, Angel, did I wake you?”
“No. I was just trying to figure out how to work your coffee maker. Where did you get it? Some type of parallel universe?”
Patrick laughed. “It’s not that hard. You’re a bright boy. I think you can figure it out.”
“Thanks. I’m glad that you think I have a brain.”
“It’s one of your finest qualities.”
“Wow, sucking up and I’ve only been in town for a couple of hours. Would this sucking up have anything to do with your other houseguest?”
“What other houseguest?”
“Keith just got here.”
“I didn’t know that he was going to be there. Is he okay?” There was concern in Patrick’s voice. “He doesn’t usually show up without calling first unless there’s something wrong.”
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p; “He seems fine. He said that he just got off a double shift and his neighbors were doing renovations. He’s sleeping in the guest room.”
“He’ll be out for a while. Did you at least get a chance to snoop before he got there?”
Brad grinned. “I did. You’ve got some neat stuff in the house, sugar.” Brad leaned against the counter. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore—and my arms are all beat to shit—but I am so happy that you’re here. Makes me wish I was still on leave.”
“If you’d still been on leave, we probably would have made it to the bedroom,” Brad said with a laugh. He could feel a blush starting at the answering chuckle he got from Patrick.
“True. Just knowing that you’re sitting in my kitchen makes me want to ditch work and come home.”
“How would you feel if you knew I was wearing your clothes?”
A low groan came over the line. “Damn, Angel. How am I supposed to spend the rest of the day knowing that you’re wearing my clothes?”
“I guess it’s a good thing they’ve got you on desk duty.” Brad smirked at the phone, happy that he could affect his lover in such a way.
“Here’s hoping that no one wants me to stand up.”
“Aw, poor baby.”
“You’ve got me all over the place today, Angel. Every time that I move I can feel you. I’ve spent all morning hiding behind my desk.”
Brad groaned as he felt himself start to harden at the images Patrick’s low voice were causing. “Damn, sugar, you’re starting to get me all worked up.”
“Shit.” The sound of Patrick shifting could be heard over the phone. “It would be wrong of me to ask you for phone sex while I’m at work, wouldn’t it?”
“Wouldn’t really be a good idea. And I think the police department would frown in it.”
“Plus, I can get in-person sex when I get home, right?”
Brad grinned at the phone. “I think that can be arranged.”
“So, what are you making me for dinner?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t looked in your fridge yet.”
“You know, I think there might actually be food in it this week.” A wry chuckle sounded over the line. “For a while the only things in the house were beer and coffee.”
While stunned and slightly touched by Patrick’s revelation, Brad was not impressed with the fact that his lover hadn’t been taking care of himself. “You missed me that much?”
“Yeah, I did. Not having you around kind of sucked, Angel.”
“It sucked without you too.”
“Well, I better get back to work before I decide that my time would be better spent blowing off work to go home and blow you.”
“Shit, Pat,” Brad moaned. The sudden visual image of Patrick’s lips wrapped around his shaft had Brad rising in his borrowed clothes.
“Sorry.”
“You don’t sound that sorry. Go back to catching bad guys.”
“No bad guys today. Today I am writing reports.” Patrick sounded so annoyed that Brad had to smother a chuckle.
“Well, try not to get a paper cut.”
“I’ll try. See you when I get home, Angel.”
“Bye.” Brad hung up the phone with what he knew was a silly smile on his face. Thankfully, Bingo was the only other occupant in the room, and Brad doubted that she would tell. Brad headed back to the coffee maker. Hopefully trying to figure out the machine would calm him down enough that he would be able to spend the rest of the day without a tent in his pants. As the sweatpants rubbed against his half-hard penis, Brad figured it was going to take some time.
Maybe another shower would be a good idea. This time a cold one.
Chapter 7
PATRICK dropped the last report onto the completed pile on his desk and stretched. His ass protested his movement on the chair, but every small jolt of pain just made him smile. Brad was waiting for him.
“What the hell did you do to your arms?” Justine demanded. Patrick grunted as she grabbed one of his arms. He had pushed the sleeves of his shirt up while he was working, so the bruises that the unexpected bout of sex had left on his arms were clearly visible. “Did you get in another fight?”
Patrick rolled his eyes. “No, Mom, I didn’t get in a fight.”
“Then what happened to your arms?”
“Having sex on a hardwood floor is a bad idea,” Patrick replied. He snatched his arm back and started to pull down his sleeves. He still couldn’t believe how damaged his arms were.
“You had sex?”
“I tend to do that.” Patrick stood with a groan. He was starting to think that his knees probably looked just as bad as his arms, if not worse.
“Who did you have sex with? I thought you were doing the long-distance thing with Brad.”
Patrick looked into Justine’s concerned eyes and smiled. “Brad’s waiting for me at home.”
“Holy shit. Really?”
“Yes, really.”
Justine grinned. “Then I guess I’m coming over for dinner.” She turned and started to walk away from his desk.
“No!” Patrick lunged and managed to catch the edge of her jacket. He pulled, and Justine stumbled back. Patrick wrapped an arm around her waist and held her close to his chest. “You are not coming over for dinner.”
“Why not? I want to meet your boyfriend.” Justine squirmed until Patrick let her go and then turned to face him. She brushed a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “Don’t you want me to meet him?”
“Of course I want you to meet him. I just don’t want you to meet him today.” Patrick sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Look, he just got here this morning. I just want to spend tonight with my boyfriend. Alone.” Patrick was aware that he was pleading, but he couldn’t help it. He still hadn’t even called Cam to let him know that Brad was in town. If someone else told the photographer, he was most likely a dead man, but Patrick couldn’t bring himself to care. He just wanted to spend time with Brad.
“Fine,” Justine relented. “I can wait until tomorrow to meet your boyfriend. You will let me meet him, right? I mean, this isn’t going to turn into you running off with him for the weekend and me never getting to meet him, is it?”
“No.” Patrick laughed and pulled Justine into a hug. “Thank you, Sparky. You’re amazing.”
“I know.” Justine pulled away from the hug, pulled Patrick’s head down, and placed a kiss on his forehead. “Now you go and get back to the boyfriend I’m not allowed to meet until tomorrow.”
“I will.”
“Good. I’ll see the two of you at the pub tomorrow night for drinks and pool.” Justine smiled brightly and walked out of the room before Patrick had time to formulate an answer. “Be there at six!”
“Sneaky little pest,” Patrick muttered. He walked back to his desk to grab his jacket before heading to his car. As he drove back to his house, he couldn’t help but wonder what Keith and Brad had been talking about. Patrick wasn’t entirely sure if he was okay with the two of them being alone in a room together. Keith didn’t have all of the good stories—Cam had those—but he had enough.
By the time he pulled up in front of his house, Patrick had a case of nerves that was ten times worse than when he had taken Brad on their first date. Patrick parked his car and forced himself to take a deep breath. There was nothing to be worried about. His boyfriend was just inside with the guy he had been sleeping with on and off for three years. Shit.
Patrick climbed out of the car and forced himself up the walk and into his house. He could hear voices, and there was a great smell, which let him know that the two men were in the kitchen. Bingo came to greet him as he was kicking off his shoes. Patrick bent down and scratched her ears until her tail started to wag. Once his dog was fully greeted, Patrick made his way to the kitchen.
Brad and Keith were sitting at the kitchen table. Patrick watched as Brad spotted him, and his eyes lit up. He continued on his way into the kitchen, dropping a kiss on the top of Keith’s head befor
e stepping in front of Brad. Patrick leaned down and tilted Brad’s chin up, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Hey, Angel.”
“Hi.” Brad’s hand caught the edge of his sleeve, and Patrick found himself being pulled closer to the younger man. Brad’s fingers ran over the inside of his wrist just beneath his sleeve, and Patrick shivered. “How was your day?”
“Long and boring. I’m glad I’m home.” Patrick leaned down for another kiss. He ran his tongue over Brad’s lips until Brad opened for him. Patrick teased his tongue around the inside of Brad’s mouth, delving past the taste of coffee to find the taste of his lover. When Brad moaned, Patrick decided that he needed to be closer and climbed into Brad’s lap.
“Um, are the two of you planning on putting on a floor show?”
Patrick pulled away from the kiss as Keith’s words penetrated his lust-fogged brain. He shifted slightly so he could turn to face Keith. “No show for you. You’re dirty.”
Keith laughed. “Like you’re much better.”
“I happen to be a gentleman,” Patrick retorted.
“Actually, you told me that you never learned to be a gentleman,” Brad interjected. Patrick turned to face the man he was sitting on. There was a blush on Brad’s face, but he hadn’t moved his arms from around Patrick’s waist.
“Damn, Trick, he’s got you there.”
“He’s got me anywhere he wants,” Patrick said without taking his eyes off of Brad. The pleasure he saw in the blue eyes made him smile.
“I think that’s my cue to leave.”
Patrick managed to force himself away from Brad. He climbed off of Brad’s lap and turned to face Keith. It was the first time he had really looked at the other man since he had arrived home, and Patrick wasn’t sure if he liked what he saw. While Keith was happy and smiling, there were dark circles under the hazel eyes that Patrick didn’t like the look of. “Keith, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just need some more sleep.”
“Do you want to go back to bed?” Brad asked. He was close enough for Patrick to wrap an arm around—which Patrick did—but his attention was on Keith. Patrick could see a faint hint of concern in his lover’s eyes.
Broken Wings Page 9
