Page 42 of Out of Control

“So you’re a slum lord now?” Spencer blurted, startled.

“Actually, almost all of the residents here are elderly. I charge about half the going rate for the neighborhood, and I see to it my building manager takes care of them. He and his wife make sure the tenants have enough to eat, drive them to doctor’s appointments, run errands and the like. I pay all the utilities on the building as well.”

Spencer blinked. “That’s decent of you.”

Drago shrugged. “It breaks even financially, I get a place to stay where I can come and go without leaving behind a trail, and when it’s paid off I’ll make a little money out of it. Best of all, the tenants are unswervingly loyal to me. If anyone ever was to come around asking questions about me, they would deny all knowledge of my activities, not to mention my existence.”

“Wow. Sweet setup.”

“I have several dozen properties around the world like this. They’re nothing special, but in combination, they make a nice investment for my retirement. I can’t do what I do forever, after all. It’s a young man’s game. Takes a young man’s nerves.”

Spencer snorted. He’d never met anyone with steelier nerves than Drago. “You’re hardly ready for the old folks’ home.”

Drago shrugged. “Still. I have an expiration date, just like you do.”

“I try not to think about it,” he mumbled. He figured he had at most five more years in the field before he would be relegated to a desk job. The powers that be seemed to expect him to stay with the SEALs in some supervisory or training capacity. He loved being on the teams and loved the sense of family, but his brothers were not the only kind of family he craved. Sticking around the teams with their crazy schedules, abrupt deployments, and long absences would mean putting off—again—any thought of marriage and kids. If he was going to have a family, he planned to be around full-time to enjoy it.

Drago’s voice came out of a kitchen cupboard, muffled. “Cup of tea? I’m afraid we’re stuck with canned food again.”

“Tea sounds good. Mind if I dig in my bag and get out a painkiller? I’ve got the same headache you had when you woke up after I sedated you.”

“Go ahead.”

Drago fiddled with a huge, old-fashioned samovar sitting on a buffet, and in a few minutes, he set a steaming cup of tea in front of Spencer.

They drank, and the tension between them abated as they sat in silent companionship. Dammit, he couldn’t stay mad at Dray. The man was so charming, so enthusiastic about life in general, and so utterly convinced he could prove his innocence that it was hard not to believe him.

It had been a slick move to turn the tables on Spencer and steal the sedatives. He couldn’t fault Drago for doing it. It was his own darned fault for not anticipating it. He’d forgotten how smart and resourceful the guy was. Both of which only added to his appeal, of course.

It occurred to Spencer that this was just like the old days. They’d lived together in a tiny apartment overlooking the flat Jabril Hamza and his cell had shared. They’d taken turns watching out the window and sleeping. They’d eaten together, talked together, speculated about their future careers. Hell, they’d even talked about their private dreams of someday being allowed to have a long-term partner. Back then neither of them had dared dream of marriage and kids.

Hell, he still didn’t dare dream of a family and kids of his own. Not as long as he was on active duty and nobody knew of his sexual orientation. Was he tempted to leave the military and pursue his own happiness? He’d been thinking of that more and more. But with whom? It wasn’t as if he could date anyone as long as he was a SEAL. A personal life was still a purely hypothetical proposition.

He glanced up, and darned if he didn’t see the same reminiscence in Drago’s eyes. He was remembering their first op together too. Was he thinking about any of the rest of it? The part where he’d introduced Spencer to what it meant to explore sex and relationships with another man?

It had been the best two months of his life… until it had become the worst.

“What’s the plan… now that I’myourprisoner?” Spencer asked wryly.

“We’ll have to wait until tonight to head out. The brothel won’t get active until then, and we probably ought to slip in as unobtrusively as possible. In the meantime, I was thinking about stripping you down and oiling you up, and then seeing where things go from there.”

Welp. That answered that. Drago was definitely thinking about their first op together too.

Spencer couldn’t help it. He gulped. “We can’t,” he choked out.

“Why not? Nobody needs to know. It’s just you and me. I thought it was sexy as hell being handcuffed to you. Got me thinking of the possibilities. Don’t tell me you didn’t have a few naughty fantasies while we were handcuffed together.”

Spencer opened his mouth to deny it, but the lie wouldn’t come out.

“Uh-huh. That’s what I thought. You avoided it the last time I brought it up, Spence, but tell me the truth. Have you had sex at all in the past ten years?”

“You mean with a guy?”

“With anyone. I’ll admit you don’t strike me as the type to poke a pussy from time to time to hide your true preferences, but who knows?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“So, no. No sex,” Drago declared. “How in the hell have you survived without losing your mind?”

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