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Chase grumbled but agreed, and slipped his arm through Rhys’s on the way outside. “That was so cool. I love music of all kinds.”
“You’re welcome, but the night’s not quite over yet.” He led the way, Chase tight against him as they walked outside.
“What else did you plan, Rhys?” Chase asked as they reached the car.
“A light snack, then maybe we could go back to my place.” He held up a carryout bag he’d stopped to pick up on the way out of the theater. The bistro catered desserts and drinks to the theater patrons, a fact he was rather thankful for right then.
“More food? As if the wonderful meal before the show wasn’t enough? I mean, I have never had roasted butternut squash soup that delicious before. Not even when James made it for me! And I think I’m going to have to hit the gym extra this week over the triple chocolate mousse we had for dessert.”
Rhys smiled down at Chase and shook his head, amused by the logical rambling of his lover. “It’s not heavy—the snack I mean—and I have no intention of returning you to your friends yet.”
“Ah, going to feed me before trying to ravage me?” Chase asked and then slipped into the passenger side of Rhys’s baby.
When he reached for his door, it was already unlocked. Rhys hopped in and leaned over the center, so close to Chase he could feel the heat but not the flesh. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“Huh? For what?” Chase murmured, his lips ghosting along Rhys’s.
“For the door, for saying yes, take your pick,” he explained, then took Chase’s lips in a soft, gentle kiss. Instead of pushing to deepen, as he usually would, he traced the tip of his tongue along the seam of Chase’s lips, flicking and teasing the silver ring there.
Chase moaned, pushing into the kiss, and swept his tongue along Rhys’s, tangling with his and plunging in repeatedly. In mere moments, the kiss went from sweet to mind numbing. He was so enthralled in Chase and his wicked tongue that he jumped, banging his head against the roof when someone blew their horn.
Rhys settled against the seat, focusing on his breathing and his heart rate, trying to calm down so he could drive Chase back to his place. Chase did the same, drawing an amused yet frustrated chuckle from him. “I don’t think it’s working,” he finally said.
“Huh? What’s not working?” Chase asked, his voice soft, eyes closed tight.
“Trying to ignore each other,” he commented, then put the keys in the ignition and started the car. He forced himself to focus on the area around them instead of how needy the scent of Chase and the Antaeus he always wore made him. After another moment, he pulled out of the parking spot and drove across town.
Chase stayed quiet on the way, but shortly before Rhys pulled into the drive, he rested his left hand on top of Rhys’s on the gearshift. He threaded his fingers between Rhys’s but did nothing else, following his movements when he shifted gears.
Rhys only relinquished Chase’s hand long enough for them to exit the car. As soon as he was around the car and to Chase, he took the long, tapered fingers into his own. With Chase in one hand and their snack in the other, he led them inside and up to his apartment. However, instead of having the treat and hoping to entice Chase to bed, he found himself slammed against the door, Chase’s hands tight in his hair, yanking his head down.
Chase mashed their mouths together in a hard, bruising kiss, picking up right where they’d left off in the car. He was moaning in seconds, desperate for the lithe body rubbing against him.
He took a handful of Chase’s cheeks and lifted, holding Chase at just the right height to align their cocks through their dress pants. Rhys rocked, thrusting against Chase, torturous and slow, as he groaned and panted.
Chase tore his mouth away from Rhys’s with a deep groan. “Oh God, Rhys! Please tell me this can wait,” he panted, pointing at the bag on the floor beside them.
Rhys nodded, a grunt all he could manage. He used his grip on Chase to grind against him.
“Bed, now, or I’m going to take you right here, against the wall.”
The idea actually gave him pause. Did he want rough sex or to take their time in the big bed? Then his brain kicked in and reminded him he didn’t have supplies anywhere but his room. Taking one last kiss, he set Chase down, then dragged him to the bed. All he could think about was Chase getting in him…. Now!
He trembled as Chase stopped next to the bed, hand on his chest. “Calm down, Rhys. I promise to love you like no one ever has before, but I don’t want to hurt you either. Strip and get in the center of the bed. Hands and knees, please.”
Rhys had no idea what Chase had planned, but nearly came from the heated look alone before he managed to free himself from his clothing and do as ordered.
IT WOULD take him days to recover fully from Chase’s rough, driving assault on his hole and cock, but lying awake later, sore and exhausted, he smiled, remembering Chase’s promise. He’d been true to his word. No one had ever touched him, or filled him, like Chase had. A fact that both thrilled and terrified him, but one he wouldn’t change for anything.
He curled around his sleeping partner, knowing his heart was lost, hoping it wasn’t alone.
Chapter 14
RHYS WISHED they hadn’t wasted all this time dancing around one another. Silence had never bothered him until recently, but not having Chase’s perky chatting or music going left him on edge. The worst part, and he knew it, was he’d done this to himself by not telling Chase the truth earlier. But if wishes were horses….
A loud ringing interrupted his internal musing. He tapped his Bluetooth—thank you, Chase—and heard the voice say, “Incoming, Mark.”
“Accept.” Once he heard the cell pick up, he said, “Hey, Mark. What ya up to tonight?”
“Nothing good, man. Is Chase there with you?”
“No, I just dropped him at his place. Why?”
“Can you come into the office? We have a new case to deal with and I need you, sans Chase.”
“O… kay.” Something was off, but Rhys couldn’t place it. After so many years together as friends, first as Marines, then as business partners, he just “knew” something wasn’t right. “What aren’t you telling me, Mark?” he asked as he pulled over, not wanting to have this conversation while driving.
“The victim’s name is Michael Donogual. The same Michael Chase dated. If what I’m finding is right, they broke up not long before you two met. And either it’s a setup, or this guy was obsessed with Chase.”
The tension in Mark’s voice had the hair on his arms and the back of his neck rising. “Define obsessed.”
“Like creepy-stalker-woohoo-type obsessed. Like has-a-freaky-shrine-in-his-bedroom obsessed.”
Clutching his fist tighter, Rhys struggled to remain calm—or at least calm-ish. “How are you at the scene so fast, and are we officially being hired on this one too?”
“Man, one of the cops that first responded to the call gave the roommate our card. He, in turn, gave it to Michael’s parents, so yeah, we’re officially adding this to our not-a-suicide case list. I’m wondering how many more there might be, considering we only know of these because of a buddy from when we were in the Corps being a cop now and passing along some information. But I don’t think you can ask Chase to do the computer work on this one, Rhys. Not if what I’m hearing about is anything like what will be on this guy’s laptop, desktop, or numerous other gadgets found so far.” Mark paused a moment before continuing. “I’m still surprised we’re even getting the level of cooperation we are.”
Rhys sat motionless, afraid if he spoke right then his voice would give out. No, he couldn’t ask Chase to work on this one, not if this guy was one of his exes. He just hoped no one would say anything to Chase until after he could talk to him.
“We’ll figure something out and just be thankful for contacts and friends. Do me a solid, though, okay? Don’t mention this to Chase, and let Nikki and such know to keep a tight lid on things for now. I don’t want him alone when he fi
nds out.”
“No problem. I wouldn’t want to be the one to tell him, ever, if it were possible. He’s going to lose it,” Mark added matter-of-factly. “I know I would.”
Rhys sighed, not looking forward to that discussion, but thankful he would get the chance to be the one there for Chase. Now to hope he didn’t kill the messenger.
The two men divided the initial work before saying good-bye. Rhys prayed James, Seth, and Chase would miss the news until after he could get things started and return to Chase.
“THAT’S NOT….” Rhys trailed off, looking away again.
Chase had never seen Rhys so nervous or unsure of himself. It suddenly occurred to him there might be a lot more depth to the man than he had thought. Then he scolded himself for assuming the wrapping was all there was to Rhys. He hated when people made the assumption about him, yet here he was doing the same. Idiot. “What is it? I can handle it, whatever it is.” Or he hoped so, at least.
Rhys took another sip of his coffee before he reached over and took Chase’s hand. When their eyes met, Chase was suddenly afraid to hear whatever it was Rhys didn’t want to say. “I don’t want to tell you what you need to be told, but it should come from someone who cares about you.”
“Okay….” Chase paused. It had been weird enough to have Rhys show up at his front door first thing in the morning, but this? Yeah, this he didn’t like, especially not with that for an intro. “Now you’re scaring me, Rhys. What happened? Wait, it’s not James, is it? Please tell me nothing happened to Jamie!”
“No.” Rhys stood and went around the coffee table to hold Chase as he started to come undone. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Forgive me for messing this all up. It’s not James. He’s fine.” He continued to offer comfort and eventually Chase calmed.
“Then what is it? And don’t ever scare me like that again!”
“Sorry.”
Chase took a deep breath. Rhys’s fidgeting and refusal to meet his eyes scared him. “Just tell me, please. I can’t stand this.”
“There’s been another death, and this time you know the person. Or at least you did. The cops believe it was a staged murder this time, but we’ve been hired by the family to make sure.”
Chase’s voice broke as he whispered, “W-who died?”
“Michael Donogual.”
“Mikey?” he choked out.
Rhys scooped Chase up into his arms and cuddled him in his lap where he sat on the couch, rubbing circles on his back. Right then Chase wished James were there too. They had been each other’s lifelines for so long, it felt weird to seek comfort in someone else instead of his best friend.
Eventually he calmed, though the tears didn’t stop completely, nor did the pain lessen. “What happened?”
“We’re not sure yet. What we do know, though, is he had a large amount of alcohol and drugs in his system.”
Chase shook his head. “No, that can’t be right. You’ve got it wrong.”
“Sweetheart, I assure you, every word is right. His parents have already ID’d his body.”
“No, Mikey barely drank and never took drugs. Hell, he’d barely take a damn aspirin, Rhys.”
“Chase,” Rhys said, his voice deep and soothing. “I understand that. I didn’t say it was logical, just what was found. The fact he had a large amount of GHB in his system makes sense if it were murder, unless he really was suicidal.”
At the mention of the “s” word, Chase froze again. He knew that was the MO of the psycho doing this, but oh God! “H-how did he die?”
“Slit his wrists in the bath. Though he may have actually….”
He couldn’t hear anything else said, his mind spinning and sticking on the word “wrists.” His eyes flicked down to the wrist cuff he wore. The cuff that was identical to the one he kept in his lock box. That one had been Ethan’s before…. Before that horrible day….
Chase had been with friends at the mall, hanging out and eating crap his mom would kill him for if she knew. His cell had lit up while they were in a movie, and he’d hit End quickly, not wanting to deal with whining patrons or grumpy words just ’cause he’d forgotten to turn the thing off.
When he exited the mall later that afternoon, he’d switched his phone back on. When he checked the missed call, it was Ethan and there was a voice mail. Cool.
Moments later, he heard E’s voice. “I can’t take it anymore, Chase. I just can’t! Dad did it again, screaming how he was going to beat the gay out of me.” His voice broke, and Chase could hear him crying before he whispered, “If he doesn’t kill me next time, he’s going to send me to one of those reprogramming camps. Please forgive me.”
Chase stood by his car, frozen for a moment until his brain kicked in. He’d jumped into the car and sped across town, hoping to get to Ethan before he did something stupid, or worse… permanent. About a block away from Ethan’s house, lights flashed behind him and a siren chirped, but he kept going. No way was he going to lose his cousin, his brother really, to hate and prejudice because he stopped on his way there!
He parked half on the curb, threw his door open, and sprinted into the house, screaming for Ethan. He knew someone was chasing him, but he didn’t care if it was some cop or one of E’s parents. All he knew was he had to get to Ethan before it was too late.
Someone grabbed his arm, but he shook them off, tearing into Ethan’s bedroom. Empty! He looked around, terrified, and noticed the bathroom door, cracked. Blind fear gripped him, and he bolted through the door. Moments later, he knelt on the wet floor, screaming, “Ethan!”
“Chase!” Rhys bellowed, yanking him out of the nightmare that had been his teen years.
Not able to completely shake the memories or sense of crushing loss, he curled against Rhys’s broad chest and cried for Ethan, for Michael. His throat hurt, and he was so tired he could barely think.
He must have dozed off at some point, because he became aware the light was all wrong and he lay atop Rhys on the couch. The man’s powerful arms were still wrapped around him tightly.
“Cariadon?” Rhys’s voice was gentle, like an adult might speak to a terrified, small child. “You with me again?”
Chase nodded, but didn’t speak yet. Would Rhys be disgusted? Irritated?
Chase felt the huge sigh he let out. “Thank you,” Rhys rumbled. “Chase, where’d you go earlier?”
“To a time I’d rather forget,” he mumbled into Rhys’s shoulder.
“And Ethan?”
“Best friend and cousin growing up, but his parents didn’t take to his coming out as well as mine did.”
“And how Michael died made you think of your friend?”
Chase heard the curiosity in Rhys’s voice, but telling that whole story was beyond him right then. “I can’t, Rhys. I’m sorry, but I can’t talk about Ethan yet.”
“Chase—”
“No, listen to me, if you want to know about Ethan, go ask James. He knows it all. But, please, I can’t work on this one. The others were bad enough, but I just can’t.”
“Shhh…. No one wants you to. I called a friend from my military days. He’ll be here later today to help.”
“Huh?” Chase looked up, confused. “If you have a buddy who does computer forensics, why’d you get James to con me into working for you?”
“I didn’t get him to do anything. If you recall, I wasn’t overly happy at the time, though for a different reason than your ire. No, my buddy, Grayson Miles, isn’t local. He lives in DC but agreed to help out after I explained the situation.”
“Oh. You’re not getting rid of me, are you?” he asked, knowing his outburst and tears had likely freaked Rhys out. The last person who’d found out some of the details of Ethan and that time of his life dumped him over it.
“No, dear. A soaked T-shirt or two won’t chase me off.”
“Not funny,” he grumbled and swatted the chest he still sprawled across. “I’ll let your friend have access to the stuff he needs, but he has to stay out of my area. At leas
t unsupervised. That’s my firm’s office area too.” Chase sat up so fast he nearly fell. “Oh God. What time is it?”
“Careful. It’s, um, almost ten now. But being I’m your boss, I’ll forgive you being tardy.”
“I have a teleconference at eleven. Dammit,” he grumbled, knowing he looked like crap and an hour would not fix how puffy and red his eyes likely were.
“Go get ready. I’ll drive us to work, okay?”
“Thanks, Rhys. For everything.” He hurried into his bedroom to grab a quick shower and dress to restart the day. Surely, it would all get better from here…. Right?
LATER THAT day, Rhys came into his office area, a wary look on his chiseled, handsome face. “Chase?”
It took a moment for him to blink himself out of code and keyboards, but he turned to face Rhys once he could focus on the real world again. “Huh? What’s up?”
“You remember my old service buddy is supposed to come today to help you with the murder cases? I wanted to introduce you to him and make sure things were settled before I have to head out for a bit.”
Confused at Rhys’s nervousness, Chase nodded, assuming it would make more sense later. “Sure. I set him up a workspace already.” He looked past Rhys but didn’t see anyone waiting. “Um, unless he’s invisible, I don’t see him.”
“He’s waiting out front with Nikki. I thought it best to warn you first.”
He thought that over, not liking the idea. Was Rhys babying him because he thought Chase couldn’t share space or because of his meltdown earlier? Either way, he didn’t like the implications. “Why, won’t I like him? Is he some homophobic prick or”—Chase smirked up at Rhys, hoping to dispel his worries—“all gross scary looking or something?”
For the first time all day, Rhys cracked a smile. “No, he’s neither of those. First off, he bats for our team. Secondly, I’m told many men have thought him quite handsome, though I can’t see it.” He chuckled. “But you can be a little… territorial about your space, so I thought it best to advise you he’d arrived.”