Page 38 of ILY
‘Found this in that box. I think it’s from the eighties. Look at that hair.’ He uses his hands to describe the mullet in detail, and I can’t help but smile.
His eyes flick up to me, and he grins. He holds the magazine out to me. ‘You want to take this home. Have a good wank with it?’
I flush at the veryvisualrepresentation of jack off in ASL, and I toss it back into the box. “Why do I need the magazine when I have you?”
His cheeks darken, and he wiggles on his seat. ‘I am better than a magazine.’ His eyes flick across my body as I set the ice pack down, feeling as normal as I can at the moment. ‘How are you feeling?’
“Better.”
He nods and then cocks his head slightly. ‘Why are you here?’
“Stalking, remember?”
He grins and then shakes his head. ‘It’s really rude to just invite yourself to sit on my porch.’
“Who said I was polite?”
He shifts on his seat again, his hand dragging down the bulge in his pants. I like the way he squirms, the way he flushes from head to toe, how he always makes excuses as to why he should get on his knees and suck me off. Maybe it will be a pity blowjob this time. Either way, I’ll take it. My obsession with Leaf is a little…intense.
Even I can admit that.
Maybe it’s because he’s the first guy I’ve ever touched like this and the first man who’s ever touched me. Or maybe it’s just him. His chaotic nature, the way he does everything with gusto. And the mystery of him, of this place. I tell myself it’s because of my job, my last big project before I leave the Bureau forever, but I think I have to admit it’s him.
He keeps bringing me back.
He leans forward, his hands poised to tell me something, but then he turns his head toward the door and sighs. ‘Sorry. Doorbell.’
He pushes up and walks to the door, and I can’t help but track his movements. The way he walks, the way his ass bounces. This isn’t the first time I’ve thought about pushing him onto all fours and sliding into him.
A man moves into my view, tall, handsome, wearing a cowboy hat and a long-sleeved shirt. He looks like he just stepped off a horse.
Who the fuck is this guy, and why does Leaf speak to him like he knows him? Like he likes him? And the way the man smiles down at Leaf, his eyes twinkling, his gaze tracking all the details of Leaf?
I know what those fucking looks mean.
Suddenly, Leaf laughs, his head thrown back, gesturing to the backyard.
The man, far too handsome for anyone’s sanity, follows Leaf inside, his gaze tracking down to Leaf’s ass as he walks. Butwhen he sees me, his movements falter slightly. I lean back in the kitchen chair, folding my arms across my chest and staring.
“Who’s this?” I make out the words on the man’s lips as Leaf just chuckles, slapping me on the shoulder.
“Thorne. My new friend.” He signs this and says it, the man’s gaze flicking down to Leaf’s hands.
My lips curl down at the corners. Newfriend? I’m more than that. A stalker at worst. A lover at most.
But a fuckingfriend?
I stand up, happy that my vertigo session is over.
I bet this man doesn’t have the issues I have, doesn’t have all the baggage I’m carrying around all the fucking time. And the lies.
Fuck, I should tell Leaf who I really am.
The thought winds its way around my head before I shove it back into a tiny box. I can’t tell him. Not now. Because the reality is, Leaf is still a potential suspect. I’m investigating his illegal attempt at buying explosives off the dark web and the possible abduction and murder of a man named Michael. I want to believe Leaf isn’t a killer, but I don’t have enough evidence to convince me either way.
And while I usually listen to my gut, that’s not exactly admissible in court.
“Thorne,” Leaf says, tapping my arm to get my attention, “this is Clay. He helps me harvest the orchard. He’s a lifesaver.”
