Page 25 of Lover
Wracking his brain, Rand tried to think of any connections to the Pearson case or any of the supposed victims, dead or alive, that linked back to Phoenix, Arizona and came up blank. “Sorry, that was Rory. I’d called him on my way up to your office. Like I was saying, he said he has information for us, so I gave him my cell number, and he’s going to text me when his flight lands. I told him I’d send a car to pick him up and bring him back to the station.”
“All right, if you’ll give me a heads up when he lands, I’ll come down to your office. Meanwhile, I’m going to see if I can find any connection to Arizona we may have missed.” Cummings agreed and left his office. Finally, Rand was able to shift his focus to something other than Rory and how badly he’d fucked up when they were in Washington. He just hoped that once the case was solved and Pearson was locked up for good that he, Rory, and Shannon could remain friends. Trying to picture his life without the two of them in it was a blank image, stark and white. When in the hell had he gotten so wrapped up in the two men? How could he be so fucking stupid?
Rubbing a hand over his short hair and sighing, Rand flopped into the big, comfy desk chair and pushed the button to fire up his computer. Work would keep him busy, trying to find a link between the mystery caller and Pearson or one of the missing persons. And if he were busy, his thoughts wouldn’t be consumed by Rory and Shannon.
Chapter Twenty Two
Shannon
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Dallas had been cold, wet, and dreary for the past week. So when they climbed into bed the night before, Shannon didn’t even think to close the curtains. The bright morning sun pouring through the window had him pulling the covers over his head to block the light. Rory shifted, scooting closer and draping an arm over his stomach. Sighing, Shannon smiled, happy to have his lover home and back in his bed. He could tell the previous day when Rory had walked into his apartment that his time in Washington had been difficult. Usually polished and pristine when on the job, Rory’s suit was wrinkled, his tie hanging loose around his neck. And while Shannon dug the two-day-old scruff and finger-combed hair, he missed the smile his lover usually wore when he walked into his apartment.
Sprinting over to the door, he’d jumped Rory before he could set down his duffle, wrapping his legs around Rory’s waist. “God, I missed you.” They kissed, Shannon eager to drag Rory into the bedroom and show him just how much he was missed. But Rory was dog-tired and distant. He couldn’t blame the man; after all, Shannon had spent years living in the shadow of Bruce Pearson. He knew firsthand how volatile and condescending the attorney was. Still, there was something in Rory’s eyes that worried him. “Baby, you okay? What happened? You have to tell me.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Rory reached for him, pulling him close and sighing. It wasn’t an, “I’m happy to see you” sigh, or an “I’m exhausted, and it’s been a long couple of days” sigh. No, the noise Rory made was more resigned, finite. Leaning back, he held Shannon’s face, thumbs running over his cheeks before leaning in for a kiss. “I missed you, babe.”
“I missed you too.” Shannon melted against him, loving the feeling of Rory’s arms wrapped around him.
“Is that lasagna I smell?” Rory’s tone was jovial and he sounded more like himself.
Grinning, Shannon led him to the stove. “Why yes, yes it is.” It was Rory’s favorite, and he made it a couple of times a month. While Rory loved the meal, Shannon always looked forward to dessert, which usually consisted of him butt-ass naked and spread out on the dining table while Rory pounded him until he screamed. Who knew tomato sauce was an aphrodisiac?
There was no dinner-table sex last night, though. Instead, they showered together before crawling into bed, Rory hesitant to tell Shannon about what happened in Washington. It was like pulling teeth, but he persisted—he had to know what happened, what they found at Bruce’s condo and what Bruce might have told Rory and Rand about him. Did the attorney with a key to the gates of hell make it sound like Shannon had asked for it, or enjoyed it? And if he did, did Rory, Rand, and Connie believe the sadistic liar? No, that wasn’t possible. “Please, baby, tell me.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Rory leaned back against the headboard, still not immediately answering Shannon when prodded. “He had a box, babe. A box full of pictures of all the guys on the board back at the station, including you.” Turning to look at him, Rory reached for his hand, grasping Shannon’s fingers tight. “There was one of you, sitting on the bed, your back...” Rory shuddered, eyes losing focus, and Shannon tried to pull his hand away, but Rory held tight.
“Oh God...that...that’s all you’re gonna see now when you look at me.” Tears stung his eyes, the pain in his chest so sudden and gripping that he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t think Bruce would have kept that picture, or any pictures for that matter, of him once he’d escaped. The one Rory spoke of was an image taken at the lowest point in his life: when Shannon was considering suicide as an option if it would stop the fear and pain he dealt with on a daily basis. It was an aspect of his time with Bruce that he’d not shared the night he opened up to the three of them about his past in Washington.
Rory held tight, arms around him until he stopped trying to climb out of the bed, until he stopped shaking. Hands so gentle and assured, Rory coaxed him, pushing and pulling until Shannon straddled his lap, lifting his chin with a finger. “Look at me, babe, and hear me. I love you, every damn part of you. What I see when I look at you is a survivor, a lover, a young man that faced the devil and lived to tell the tale. Once a boy that blindly trusted a predator and paid the price, and yet, you still grew into a beautiful, kind, loving soul when you could have easily become a monster like him. I love you, Shannon Dupree, all of you, even the ugly parts.”
Smiling so wide his face hurt, Shannon tried damn hard to attack Rory. Kissing, biting, grabbing the hem of Rory’s shirt to lift it over his head. “Hey, listen,” Rory stilled him, hands on his hips. “This isn’t about sex for me, Shan, our relationship is so much more than that. But if what you need right now is for me to make love to you, I will. But I’d rather just hold you, babe. Have you fall asleep in my arms and then wake up in the morning with you still there.”
“Rory,” he whispered, climbing off his lap and settling on the bed beside him. “You’ll never stop amazing me, will you?”
Smiling, Rory kissed him. “Hope not.” They lay in the dark, holding on to one another while they talked. Rory gave him more details about what happened in Washington over the past couple of days, but Shannon felt like he was holding something back. While he wanted to know every detail, he could also understand Rory’s need to shield him and protect him. That was what you did for someone you loved. Shannon was still navigating the ins and outs of his relationship with Rory, having never been on equal footing with a partner or lover before.
It occurred to him then that he’d not only been mortified that Rory had seen the photos cataloging the abuse Bruce had put him through, Rand had seen them as well. Would the detective be able to brush off the pictures as Rory obviously had? See Shannon as the man he was presently, not the scared, confused and gullible teenager he was back then?
Refusing to think about the day before for another second, he rolled over and lifted his hand to trace the incline of Rory’s nose. Running a finger over his lips, then his eyelids, he chuckled when Rory blinked one eye open, grinning at him lazily. “Morning, beautiful.”
“Hey, I was considering breakfast in bed, but then I remembered you saying you wanted to wake up with me in your arms.” He kissed the tip of Rory’s nose, giggling when Rory tickled his ribs before pulling him close.
“No rush, I’d rather lie here with you for a little while.” When they kissed again it was with more passion and promise, Rory rolling their bodies until he was on top, sliding his knees under Shannon’s legs. “What do you say to working up an appetite before breakfast?”
The way the man looked at him, green eyes alight with desire, was such a fucking turn on. This was the Rory he knew, his Rory, the man that curled his toes with just a glance. “There you are,” he smiled up at Rory, wrapping his legs around his waist.
They made love the first time before winding up in the bathroom to clean up, which led to Rory rimming him almost to the point of orgasm. Hands braced against the wall, head resting on Rory’s shoulder they made love a second time, Shannon crying out as he came. They’d both been tested and, when the tests came back negative, made a conscious decision to stop using condoms. It had taken their sex life to another level—being able to feel Rory’s skin inside his body was something he’d never shared with another man.
Dressed in shorts and tank tops, they made banana pancakes for breakfast, drinking coffee, eating and talking for another hour before Rory went off in search of his phone while Shannon washed the dishes.
Once the kitchen was clean, he went and found Rory in the bedroom, clean-shaven and dressed in one of the suits he kept in Shannon’s closet. He’d hoped to have his man home for at least one day, but he knew Rory had a job to do, so he tamped down the disappointment and crossed the room. “Aw man, I was liking the scruff.” He came up behind Rory, reaching around and tying his tie, winking at him.
Turning, Rory slid his arms around his waist, kissing his throat then his chin. “Yeah, you like the feel of my whiskers against your ass cheeks while I fuck that pretty hole with my tongue?” Waggling his eyebrows, Rory slid his tongue along the seam of his lips, teasing but not quite kissing.
“Holy fuck.” Shannon let his head roll to the side, loving the feel of Rory’s mouth on his neck. “You have five seconds to either stop doing that or get naked and fuck me again, Agent.”
Rory growled, fingers digging into his hips, teeth nipping the spot on Shannon’s neck that drove him wild. “As tempting as that sounds, I have to go into work for a few hours. Raincheck?”
