Выбрать главу

Nathan swallowed, the sound loud in the otherwise silent house.

Avery didn’t have to look down to see Nathan’s erection. His dilated pupils and quickened breath showed what Avery felt—bone-deep arousal. In toying with Nathan, he’d aroused himself all over again.

Shit. He stepped back and winked. “Yep. Diane was a lucky, lucky girl. But hey, princess. I bet one day you’ll get your happily-ever-after with the boy of your dreams too. Too bad you’re not lucky enough to have me.” Yet, dangled in his mind. He stepped away while he was still able and turned around, deliberately giving Nathan his back.

He thought he heard Nathan groan.

“I’m going to scout out the house. I’m thinking one of the bedrooms upstairs, away from foot traffic and outside access, will make a good command center. I’ll let you know.” Avery walked away and had made it halfway up the steps before Nathan responded.

“You’re a total asshole, you know that?” he yelled. “No way I’d be unlucky enough in this lifetime to have you. Not in two lifetimes!”

“That’s a lot of protest, son,” Avery yelled back to be heard and laughed to himself when Nathan swore.

Gauntlet thrown. And accepted.

* * *

Nathan stared at Avery that night, still pissed about Avery’s thoughtless comments earlier in the day. What kind of sexually repressed homophobe would spout shit about rimming and ass fucking to a gay man’s face? A man who wasn’t repressed or afraid of gays, apparently. It annoyed him all over again that he’d have to reclassify Avery. So much for thinking the guy had issues with sex. From what Avery had more than hinted, he liked fucking, and he especially liked ass play.

God, the images that called to mind were so wrong.

Nathan lusted after a straight guy with everything inside him, even knowing he’d get burned if he pursued him. How fucked up was that? He wanted to chalk up his weird desire and skewed emotions to the recent upheaval in his life, but he’d wanted Avery for far longer than that. At first Avery had been an attractive male. Eye candy. But as Nathan got to know him better, he’d become infatuated with the man. Seeing those unusual smiles, catching glimpses of the softer side Avery rarely showed his friends, taunted him to try to capture Avery’s attention.

I need to get laid. That’s all it is. A physical need. He paused in reflection. Yeah, right.

Hell, he had plenty of sex. But he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a hug from someone he cared about. And not a friendly hug like those he shared with Ian or Kitty at work. But an affectionate caress from a lover instead of a quick handjob or blowjob in a bar.

Nathan reached for the last slice of pizza at the same time Avery did. Their hands touched, and he quickly pulled away, much to the amusement of Major Macho.

Avery raised his brow but said nothing, and Nathan internalized a groan. He had no idea why Avery’s arrogance turned him on so much.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy?” Avery took a healthy bite of pizza and chewed, the powerful cords of his throat prominent. The navy cable-knit sweater he wore only added to his allure. The sweater clung to his chest while exposing his neck and the hint of his collarbone. Nathan wanted to eat him up.

Fuck. This is so wrong. He shifted in his seat, hoping Avery wouldn’t notice his expanding crotch.

Then Avery had the nerve to offer him half of the last slice he’d claimed. Being nice, on top of being so damn sexy, was cheating big-time.

Nathan grudgingly accepted the piece and let out a breath. “So your room. You good?”

Avery shrugged. “It’s a room. About the same as yours.” Avery paused and studied Nathan. “You okay being here? I get the feeling growing up in this town wasn’t fun for you. That there’s more to your issues than your mom—uh, aunt’s—death.”

Nathan started. He’d been so consumed with Avery that he’d zoned out on being here, in this place. It all seemed so long ago, but though the memories had faded, they’d never truly left. The constant beatings, the mental abuse… He sometimes wondered how far his uncle might have gone if Nathan hadn’t made a stand. God knew, the punishments Malcolm had devised were anything but rational. He’d seemed to almost get off on the abuse.

“Nathan?” Avery’s soft voice pulled him back.

“You want to know?”

“Yeah, I do.”

It was the way he answered that made Nathan decide to tell him. Gone was the antagonistic, domineering ex-agent, and in his place, a caring, concerned Avery sat waiting. Yet another facet to the man that made him such an enigma.

“My uncle was a real bastard. From the time I lived here with him and my aunt until the day he died—supposedly died—he took great pleasure in screwing with me. Used to make fun of me and put me down all the time. But never in front of my aunt. He didn’t want her to know. In front of her, he was the doting dad. About two years after I came to live with them, he started beating me.”

Avery frowned. “Damn.”

“Yeah. He was a sick fuck.” He could still see Malcolm’s huge hand wrapped around the leather belt. Could feel it as it came down hard on his back. His uncle was so careful not to leave marks where they could be seen outside of his clothes. But Nathan had scars on his ass, the backs of his thighs, and the soles of his feet. And those were just physical. He dreaded facing the cellar and got cold sweats just thinking about it.

“So Jack filled me in some about your aunt,” Avery said. “After she left your uncle, you guys moved to California.”

“She left him because he was dead. Or so we thought.”

Avery didn’t blink, but Nathan could feel the man’s curiosity, and his support. “Sounds like maybe he deserved to die.”

“Better him than my aunt.” My mother, who he finally tracked down and killed. Nathan gritted his teeth.

“Time to finish the job, then.” Avery didn’t look too bothered at the thought of killing.

“You don’t have a problem with that?”

“I’m not a murderer, but I’m a firm believer in justice. Malcolm Dixon killed a woman you loved. From what you said, he almost killed her years ago. And beating on a kid, that’s just fucked up any way you look at it.”

“True.” Nathan felt lighter for having shared. Was it because he’d told the truth finally, or because he’d told Avery, and Avery was still on his side?

“The other thing we need to take a good, hard look at is Dixon’s past. The few files Jack has on him are sketchy, which leads me to believe your uncle is even more dangerous than we think.”

“Not sure that could be true. He’s a stone-cold killer.”

“One who has a weapon attracted to blood. Did you read the report on Espada de Sangre?”

Nathan cringed. “I did. The blade is supposedly cursed. Forged in the early 1800s in Spain, it found its way to America and has been used in the Civil War, the World Wars, and in bloody crime sprees all over the world.”

“It’s like the thing is a beacon for evil. How the hell did our client get his hands on it, I wonder?”

Nathan wondered too. “You know who this guy is we’re working for? Jack knows him, but I haven’t heard a thing about him.”

“All I know is that he has money and a warehouse of stolen goods we’re getting back for him one piece at a time. But Jack needs to look for more clients. You never put all your eggs in one basket if you’re smart.”

“Great advice. I can’t wait to be there when you share it with Jack.”

Avery grimaced. “I like my head where it is, thanks. Jack’s a decent boss, but he’s not great with people.”