Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 93984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Had he agreed to more with Justin?
Obviously, he’d lost his mind. He wasn’t even sure he liked the man. He was careless and reckless. He jumped headlong into a situation without properly studying it and the potential dangers.
Except Justin was damn good at making him laugh, particularly when he didn’t feel like laughing. He had a brilliant brain hidden behind all the jokes.
And when they kissed, the world fell away completely. Gabriel longed for more of Justin. He wanted to get lost in his touch, in the sounds he made, and the soft scent of his cologne as it teased his nose. He wanted to pin Justin down and fuck him until they couldn’t move any longer.
If he was honest with himself, he wanted Justin to do the same to him. The need to feel his weight on him, to give up all control to Justin and let the man do whatever he wished, practically vibrated within his bones.
Not an option.
Never an option.
He shouldn’t be considering anything with Justin. The kiss in the hallway. Frotting last night. Fuck…just holding hands had given too much of himself away. It was like he’d been clinging to Justin as a life raft in the middle of a stormy sea. He couldn’t take that risk. And there was an equally nagging voice in the back of his brain demanding that he not let Justin take that risk either. It wasn’t safe.
If it was just sex, then the handholding and kissing wouldn’t bother him. It would all be an act, but with Justin it didn’t feel like an act. He didn’t want it to be an act. He fucking loved every goddamn second of it. He wanted to hold hands and feel free to reach over and touch him where other people could see them. He wanted all of Justin’s laughter and mischief.
But he couldn’t have it. Even if the people in this city didn’t care if he was gay and dating Justin, there were others who very much cared who Gabriel was seen with. People who wanted Gabriel dead and would have no trouble killing Justin in the process.
A soft sigh slipped past his lips, and he slumped in the seat, staring out at the car passing them on the expressway. They’d left the posh neighborhood behind and were winding toward downtown.
“You wanna talk about it?” Justin’s gentle voice was like a caress, and Gabriel closed his eyes against the desire to open his mouth and start spilling his guts.
Ivan had been the only one he’d ever shared his thoughts with. Not that he’d ever shared deep, emotional things with his former partner. Between him and Ivan, it had been largely work and occasionally sex. Maybe a little bitching about work and the intolerance that surrounded them, but never softer things like dreams and hopes for the future. Never sweet kisses and gentle caresses. Gabriel wanted to think it was because Ivan knew there was no future for them, and at the time, Gabriel had been too young to care about the future.
So what had changed other than the fact that he was faced with a sexy, adventurous gay man in the same line of work who managed to have a house, neighbors, and friends? He’d even tried the dating thing. It might not have succeeded, but he’d tried. All things that Gabriel hadn’t thought possible in the slightest.
Now he wanted those things. Was so fucking tempted to reach for them. But the fear was still there. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’d be killed if he tried, so why bother?
“I was thinking that we should check out this Dr. Elba before we go to see Dr. Jones’s husband,” he said instead.
“I take it the real Gabriel Prescott is firmly in the closet.”
Old frustration and bitterness burned through Gabriel as he clenched his teeth and tightly gripped the armrest handle on the passenger side door. “We’re not talking about me.”
“I’d offer to talk about me, but I don’t think you’re in the least bit interested.”
“Interested in the fairy tale you’d cook up as to who you really are?” Gabriel scoffed. “No, thank you.”
Justin grinned, keeping his eyes on the road. “I bet I can tell a better story than you.”
“This isn’t a competition.”
“Then at least tell me whether last night was your first time doing anything with a man,” Justin countered. His voice was harder and more serious than it had been just a moment ago. There was no missing the underlying current of worry, maybe even panic there.
Gabriel wanted to remain silent. Let Justin suffer as he worried about all the different potential meanings of their brief encounter the night before.
Closing his eyes, he rubbed them with his thumb and index finger. Images of a smiling Justin flashed through his mind. Justin, who playfully called him G Love. Justin, who talked with him while he cooked and bravely made jokes while Gabriel picked shrapnel out of his body. Justin, who trusted Gabriel to keep him safe as he slept. Justin, who kissed him like he was more important to him than oxygen and a good beer.