Chapter Twenty Nine
Shannon
“First. If you ever say, ‘Come at me’ again—trust me, I will and you won’t like it.” Flashbacks of sitting in the corner in the locker room in junior high, watching the jocks knuckle-punch each other on the shoulder among other juvenile antics while chanting, “Come at me, bro!” were images Shannon did not want to associate with Rand.
“Second, what Tuan did is not your fault, so don’t saddle yourself with that shit, okay?”
Eyes full of sorrow, Rand opened his mouth, probably to argue with him, but Shannon wasn’t having it. Stepping closer, their bodies now connected for the first time, he kissed the detective. Time seemed to slow down as he enjoyed every sensation he was feeling. Rand’s lips were soft but firm; his arms slid around Shannon’s waist, pulling him close enough that he could feel Rand’s heart pounding in his chest. The man smelled amazing—hints of citrus and musk with the slight aroma of frankincense. Hands wrapping around Rand’s shoulders, fingers trailing over warm skin till they were connected at the nape of his neck, Shannon moaned, the sound becoming a soft gasp when Rand slid his tongue into his mouth. Lord but the man tasted amazing, like oranges and mint, his tongue mapping out every inch of Shannon’s mouth.
“Wow.” Rory sounded like he was out of breath.
With herculean effort, he managed to pull free from Rand, turning to look at Rory. For a brief moment, Shannon thought Rory might be upset or angry, which would be valid emotions given the circumstances. What he saw in the gorgeous green eyes that had pulled him into Rory Landers’s orbit all those months ago was nothing but pure, unadulterated lust. Skin flushed, the raven-haired beauty licked his lips, and Shannon could feel Rand’s body tremble beside him. Taking Rand by the elbow, he led him over to the bed. Lowering the side, he motioned for Rand to sit beside Rory. “I missed your first kiss. This time, I’ve got a front row seat.” Shannon encouraged them with a wave of his hand.
Again, the kiss was soft and gentle—at first. Thankfully, the top of the hospital bed was already fully lifted, so Rory had something soft to brace himself on, because Rand devoured him. Fingers fisted in Rory’s long, black hair, Rand licked, sucked and bit the man’s lips as they both groaned and gasped. Rory held tight to Rand’s shirt with the hand of his uninjured arm. Cheeks flushed, breathing labored, the machine he was hooked up to was beeping faster with each passing second. The door to the room flew open, and a petite nurse rushed in, skidding to a stop just inside the room, eyes wide. Rory and Rand were so wrapped up in each other they didn’t even notice. “Uhmmmmmm.” She cleared her throat, loudly.
Glassy-eyed and breathless, Rand sat back, apologizing. “I’ll just come back, then.” She backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Resting his head on the stack of pillows, Rory closed his eyes and took a few deep, even breaths, the monitors slowing to a more sedated rhythm. “Wow is right.” Shannon sighed. “That was…” He paused, trying to find the right word.
“Intense,” Rand offered.
Nodding, Rory sat up. “Well, I think we can all agree that the chemistry is definitely not an issue.” Shannon and Rand agreed. There was a song—he couldn’t remember who sang it or the title, but the line “When a tornado meets a volcano” rang very true to what he’d just witnessed.
Deep down, there was a very small part of him that had felt betrayed when he’d learned about what happened in Washington between Rory and Rand. But the hope of what was to come outweighed the betrayal; a promise of love and the very real connection they shared shone like a beacon that could not be ignored. “Okay, I think first and foremost, we have to tell each other everything all the time. As hard as relationships are with just two people, it’s going to be that much and more for us. Even if you think I’ll be upset, or I think you’ll be upset—either way, complete honesty and transparency is a must. Don’t you agree?” Shannon exhaled when they both nodded.
Rory reached for him, pulling Shannon close and kissing him with the same passion and intensity he’d kissed Rand with. Lack of oxygen and loud, fast beeps forced them apart. This time when the door opened, the cute little twink that wheeled Rory back to the room the previous day sauntered in.
“A little birdie told me that you three boys are up to no good in here,” he teased, his saucy southern accent only adding to his charm. The nurse—Brody, according to his name tag—smiled flirtatiously, unwinding the stethoscope around his neck to listen to Rory’s heartbeat. “On a scale of one to ten, what level would you say your pain is at, sweetie?” he asked Rory, holding Rory’s wrist between two fingers to count his pulse that was probably through the roof right then.
“Uh, four, maybe five?” Rory sounded uncertain.
Brody nodded, placing Rory’s arm in his lap and sliding on a pair of latex gloves so he could check his shoulder. “Well, just because the doctor removed the pump doesn’t mean you have to go without medication, sweetie. He wrote you an order for tramadol with ibuprofen to take the edge off or, if you need something stronger, the doctor did authorize Toradol, which is an injection and would be more immediate relief.” The nurse worked quickly while talking, removing Rory’s bandages and checking the swollen, bruised area of his shoulder.
Wincing, Rory’s face showed the pain he was feeling. “I’m sure the pills would have been fine until you started poking and prodding.” He hissed.
Grinning, Brody applied a fresh dressing to Rory’s shoulder, disposing of the bandages and gloves in a waste receptacle labeled Bio-hazard before pulling a capped syringe from the pocket of his scrubs. “That’s what I thought you’d say.” The twink popped the cap of the syringe and injected the clear medicine into Rory’s IV. Shannon watched as seconds ticked by and by the time the syringe was empty, Rory’s face had softened.
“Thank you.” He smiled at Brody and reached for Rory’s hand.
“So,” Brody dropped the syringe into a sharps container mounted to the wall by the sink, “I hate to be the party pooper, but you are still healing, Agent Landers. If I have to hose the three of you down, I’m going to be sending somebody home. We clear, boys?”
Rand stood and took a seat in the chair beside the bed, hands in the air. “Absolutely.”
“Crystal,” Rory slurred, the drugs already infiltrating his system.
Dimming the lights on his way out, Brody left them alone once again. Shannon took a seat on the side of the bed, smiling down at Rory, holding on to his hand as Rory started to nod off. “Let him rest for a while. Come here, sit.” Rand patted his legs. Brushing a lock of hair off his forehead, he kissed Rory before standing and stepping over to Rand, sitting on his lap. “I need to apologize to you for what happened in that hotel room. I won’t be sorry that it brought us together in the end, but I am sorry if I, well, we, hurt you.” He grazed Shannon’s bottom lip with his thumb, the mere touch setting his mouth on fire.
“I know, but thank you for saying it.” He bent and kissed Rand.
“Now, tell me more about Shannon Dupree, about college, and dancing.” Rand lifted his legs, folding them over the arm of the chair so that he was sitting sideways in his lap. They talked about UT Austin and how the campus had changed from when Rand attended. Shannon did his best to explain to Rand what drew him to dancing, why he chose to pursue what some would consider just a hobby or activity as a career. The man listened intently, his eyes alight with adoration as he smiled, nodding his head and actively participating in the conversation. It struck Shannon while they sat talking—Rand and Rory might have completely different personalities, but they were both attentive and fiercely loyal. He could already feel a swell of pride knowing that the detective belonged to him, just as the agent lying in the bed beside them sleeping did.