Page 31 of Torch Songs

“Always?” Tad teased.

“Always,” Guthrie confirmed, and they shared a chuckle. Guthrie rested his cheek on his bandaged hand, and Tad wanted to touch his face… and his chest… and run his hands over Guthrie’s biceps and….

“Well, finish the story!” Guthrie said. “Did he get his comeuppance?”

Tad chuckled. “Yeah, actually! So fast forward six weeks later. Our injured guy has been nursed back to health by aporn model, of all things, and it’s apparently true love.”

Guthrie blinked. “Seriously? Like… likeporn?”

“So hot,” Tad confirmed. He’d been at the scene for this and had seen the kid in person—muscle, swagger, attitude, and a face that would melt the staunchest knees. “Anyway, Sean shows up at a crime scene with his porn kid because his friends are involved with stopping the crime, and Jesse shows up and starts hitting on Sean. And suddenly, the porn kid, Sean’s partner, and one of the trouble-magnet friends are all standing in front of Sean, yelling at Jesse about showing up at Sean’s house with… guess.”

Without missing a beat, Guthrie said, “A fifth of jack and DVDs?”

“Yes!” Tad burst out. “And the porn kid has got nothing to lose. Sean’s out and proud, the porn kid giveszerofucks, and he’spissed, and suddenly Jesse is outed in front of his entire department—not just as gay, which I gather they wouldn’t have cared about, but as, you know,a douchebag, which apparently made himveryunpopular. It wasbeautiful. I mean, it was only luck I got called into that scene with Chris, but it wasso worth it. I would have worked the scene for free.”

Guthrie chuckled some more, and then, to Tad’s joy, reached out and ran the fingers of his good hand down the outside of his arm. Tad shivered and gazed into Guthrie’s eyes.

“So,” Guthrie murmured. “No damage to the heart?”

“Nope,” Tad said. “And only a little to the pride.”

“And we’re both negative?”

Tad felt a smile come on that was not entirely sweet. “Yup.”

“You, uh, want to—”

Tad leaned across the couch and took Guthrie’s mouth, hard, yearning, showing with lips and teeth and tongue the end to all the self-restraint Tad had been using during the entire meal to not ravish Guthrie the minute he’d come out of the shower.

Guthrie moaned and allowed himself to be borne back against the couch, cupping Tad’s face and kissing him back. “Do you,” he panted between kisses, “have any idea—ah!” Tad found the hem of his T-shirt and shoved his hands under. “How close I came to begging?”

Tad ran his lips across Guthrie’s neck, along his jaw, nipped his ear. “You went to so much trouble,” he breathed. “I wanted you to feel appreciated.”

“I’m really damned ready for you to appreciate me. Oh damn!”

Tad got tired of playing with Guthrie’s chest under the T-shirt and tugged it up, while Guthrie raised his torso off the couch so Tad could drag it over his head.

“Your wish, my command,” Tad told him, and then… oh wow. Tiny sand-colored nipples with really pointy peaks. Tad pulled one into his mouth and was rewarded with Guthrie’s greedy little cries and his fingers threading through Tad’s hair. Tad moved to the other nipple and suckled some more, and this time Guthrie groaned unabashedly and bucked his hips off the couch in blatant invitation.

“My bed,” Guthrie muttered. “Please?”

Tad groaned but conceded, rolling off the couch and offering a hand to help Guthrie up.

“I’ll get the dishes tomorrow,” Guthrie mumbled as Tad paused to turn off the lights and lock the door.

Tad had no problem with that, but hedidhave a problem with Guthrie’s bare chest, hisbare skin,glinting in the moonlight shooting through the blinds.

He couldn’t stop touching it.

He herded Guthrie down the hall with mini-touches—a stroke down his back, a cup of his neck and gentle kiss on his shoulder, and Guthrie had to put his hand out to steady himself on the wall by the bathroom.

“We arenothaving sex on the floor,” he muttered, and Tad backed him up against the wall and kissed him shamelessly until Guthrie ground his groin—covered in soft flannel and knit briefs—up against the placket of Tad’s jeans.

Tad’s hands went to his fly, and Guthrie slipped away from him into the bedroom. By the time Tad got there and yanked off his jeans and T-shirt, Guthrie was already naked. He’d stripped the covers down and was leaning against the sheets in the dark, his face buried in a pillow, the line of his body vulnerable and supplicating as he offered himself up to Tad’s possession.

Tad drew near and kissed his shoulder, pressing his lips against the tenderness of Guthrie’s throat.

“Not face-to-face?” he murmured, a little disappointed.

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