Chapter Three
“Can you repeat that?” Shane asked, his stomach knotting.
The man spoke clearly and confidently. “There’s been a change in plans, and we require your testimony at the inquest in person. We realize this is short notice, but the panel feels it’s necessary.”
Shane sat heavily on the deck chair in the backyard, residual sand gritty between his toes and wetsuit clinging to his body. A bird whistled, the sun peeking out from clouds. “You understand I live in Australia now? That I have business commitments?” That I have a goddamned life, unlike when I was in the Service?
The man’s tone remained coolly professional and unruffled. “We apologize for the inconvenience.”
“Uh-huh.” The Secret Service hadn’t even had Nguyen or Harris or someone Shane knew call him.
“You understand how important this inquest is? After your many years of service—”
“Enough. I’ll come.” He sure as hell didn’t need a patriotic speech on his duty. “What’s the flight info? I presume the Service has it arranged already.”
“Yes. We’ll forward you everything you need. The flight leaves Sydney on Tuesday morning.”
They said their terse goodbyes, and Shane stared at his phone screen. App icons skirted the edges of a background image of Rafa laughing with his surfboard, wet curls hanging around his eyes, waves gleaming behind him. The screen went dark after a minute.
Tuesday morning. So, just before the Castillos would arrive in Sydney. He stood and paced back and forth along the strip of grass beyond the shaded stone patio. The blades of grass were cool between his toes. He tried to fight it, but relief washed through him at the thought of not having to deal with Rafa’s parents.
But of course he would—they were visiting for weeks, and his testimony at the inquest wouldn’t take more than a couple of days. This would just delay the inevitable and likely upset Rafa. “Shit,” he muttered. Rafa would have to face his parents alone at first.
Now a shiver of guilt snaked through him. He shouldn’t feel relieved in the slightest to be leaving Rafa alone and vulnerable to the pressure his parents would undoubtedly apply. They wanted him to come back to the States. Of course they did—Shane didn’t even blame them for that. Most parents wanted their children near them.
Hell, he couldn’t even blame them for not wanting Rafa to be with Shane. The age difference, the way they met—Shane wouldn’t like it either in their shoes. Yet his own protectiveness for Rafa rose up, and he gripped his phone as he paced faster.
Rafa was happy in Australia. With Shane. What they had together was good. There was no way Shane would give any of it up without a fight. Neither would Rafa. He had to be confident in that.
But what if—
“Stop.” He breathed deeply, nodding to himself. They would weather whatever storm the Castillos might bring. It was an inconvenience that Shane had to leave for the inquest, but he’d be back before Rafa knew it. It would be fine.
What about Rafa being alone in the house?
Shane forced an inhalation again, wishing the yard had more pacing room. It was ridiculous to have nerves about Rafa sleeping alone in the house. He was a grown man. His father was no longer president—Rafa didn’t need protection anymore.
Yet the memory of the bone-shaking terror Shane had experienced when Rafa had been kidnapped gripped him. Even though it was broad daylight, for a moment he was back in the rain and mud in the dark, utterly desperate.
“Fuck!” A bird squawked and flapped away at Shane’s exclamation. He had to get control of himself. The nightmares were bad enough—he had to let Rafa live his life and not hover over him. Rafa would eventually resent it, and it wasn’t healthy.
But anything can happen at any time. There are a million variables. What if he needs me and I’m not here? What if he gets hurt because I’m not here?
“I can’t always be here,” he said aloud. “This is the way life works.” He wished he sounded more convincing.
Tapping his phone, Shane checked the time. There were still a couple of hours before his business dinner in the city with new clients, but standing around worrying about what might happen wouldn’t do anything. Rafa would be safe and sound, and their relationship was solid. The Castillos wouldn’t change that, even if they had time with Rafa alone.
Shane snorted, laughing to himself as he peeled off his wetsuit and went inside for a shower, shaking off his ridiculous fears. Did he think he was going to be glued to Rafa’s side every moment whenever Rafa was with his family? Of course not. Rafa loved his parents, but he didn’t let them control him anymore. And he would lock the doors and be perfectly fine while Shane was away.
After a hot shower and a shave, Shane toweled off and dressed in a suit, padding back into the bathroom. The tiles were still damp, condensation clinging to the edges of the mirror over the sink.
He slipped in his earbuds and pressed play on the podcast he’d been listening to earlier about Chinese-Australian relations to give him background on his new project. Always good to understand the political climate. He splashed some aftershave on his freshly smooth cheeks and brushed his teeth.
Lifting his chin, he straightened his burgundy tie and examined his collar in the mirror as the woman on the podcast detailed a trade agreement. Then Rafa appeared behind him in the reflection wearing the jeans and tee he’d tugged on after surfing to go to the market. Shane’s heart skipped a beat. He hit pause on his old-school iPod and pulled out one of the earbuds as he looked over his shoulder. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Rafa replied, biting his lip.
Ugh, Shane had to tell him the bad news. Or maybe it wasn’t actually bad—perhaps it was a good thing to give Rafa a few days alone with his parents. Some quality time to catch up? Regardless, he had to tell him about the change in plans. He turned. “So…”
Before he could decide on the right approach, Rafa stepped back a pace, his gaze sweeping Shane up and down. Rafa licked his lips, sending a spark down Shane’s spine. “Haven’t seen you in a suit since the White House.”
“I guess you haven’t.” He ran a hand over his charcoal jacket. “I’ll be dressing up more now that I’ll be meeting with clients.”
“Mmm. You shaved too. Agent Kendrick was always perfectly groomed.” Rafa walked—no, prowled—toward him. He reached up and touched the earbud still in Shane’s ear, and Shane realized it was similar to the Secret Service earpiece he used to wear.
He smirked. “Should I put on my sunglasses?”
Rafa’s knees hit the tile, and he yanked at Shane’s belt, pushing him back against the sink. His voice pitched in a low growl as he demanded, “Fuck my mouth, Agent Kendrick.” He pushed down Shane’s pants and boxer-briefs and freed his cock, which sprang to life.
Shit, he had to spill the news, but as Rafa sucked him to full hardness with needy little moans and slurps, Shane rocked deeper into his mouth. The rest of the world fell away, and there was only the sweet suction.
He muttered, “Goddamn, baby.”
Rafa moaned around his cock, his lips stretched. Shane gripped his head, threading his fingers through the curls as he took control with little thrusts, careful not to go too deep. Rafa gazed up at him with such adoration it made his heart clench. Wearing his suit, Shane could almost imagine they were back at the White House. A forbidden thrill shot through him. “You like eating my dick, Valor?”
Rafa groaned, spit dribbling from the corners of his mouth, his throat constricting wonderfully as he swallowed around Shane’s cock and gripped his thighs above where Shane’s dress pants bunched around his knees.
“No hands,” Shane ordered, and Rafa let go. “Get your cock out. Are you hard for me?”
As Shane continued fucking his mouth, supporting Rafa’s skull, Rafa fumbled with his jeans and reached into his boxers to pull out his shaft. Shane could glimpse it—the red, shiny head peeking out from his foreskin. Rafa breathed hard though his nose, wet slurps and smacks filling the air.
“Jerk yourself.”
He did, his hand flying as he kept his mouth wide, taking everything Shane gave him. “Uhhh, uhh,” he groaned.
“That’s it.” Shane spread his legs, pleasure building with each push into Rafa’s wet, hot mouth. “Make sure you don’t come on my suit.”
For a moment, Shane thought Rafa was choking, then realized with a skip of his thumping heart that he was laughing. Shane laughed too, and Rafa stared up with his eyes full of light and unwavering trust.
Primal possessiveness drummed through Shane. He thrilled in being the only man who’d ever been lucky enough to touch Rafa. His chest tightened with affection, his head spinning and breath short.
Balls tightening, he rocked deeper, orgasm taking over. He grunted as he shot down Rafa’s throat, Rafa’s eyes watering as he swallowed convulsively. Shane pulled out and sprayed the last of it on Rafa’s face, the white stark against his freckles and tan skin, a long string of spit and cum hanging between the end of his cock and Rafa’s glistening, swollen lips.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Shane whispered.
With a gasp, Rafa closed his eyes and came, jerking himself rapidly, crying softly, “Oh, oh, oh…” Then he tipped forward, his head against Shane’s bare hip, his arms wrapping around his thighs. Shane petted Rafa’s soft hair.
After a minute, Rafa sat back on his heels and peered down, chest still heaving. “I think I missed your cuff by, like, an inch.”
They laughed, and Shane tugged him to his feet. “It would have been worth the dry-cleaning bill.”
Rafa gave him a musky kiss, and Shane licked into his mouth tenderly. The reminder that he had to tell Rafa about the change in plans echoed dully, but soon they were laughing about Shane’s wrinkled pants, and he had to change his suit and head into the city to make sure he was early for dinner. There was no point in upsetting Rafa now and then having to turn around to leave. It could wait.
Burning.
Flames leap from the second-floor windows, his parents screaming inside, trapped. Not just Mom and Dad—Rafa too, calling for him, his voice hoarse, cracking.
“Shane!”
Feet stuck in mud, rain blurring everything, but not dampening the fire at all. Heat scorches his face and hands as he flounders in the muck, everyone he loves in agony. He heaves himself up, useless legs collapsing under him. Mom and Dad and Rafa scream and—
Heart about to explode, Shane gasped awake. He was curled naked on his side, body rigid and aching, throat dry. The blackout curtains did their job, and he was in darkness. Had he shouted aloud?
“Okay?” Rafa mumbled, his cool fingers wrapping around Shane’s shoulder.
Can’t let him see me like this!
Panic roaring, Shane stumbled up and dove into the bathroom, flipping the lock behind him. Knees jelly, he leaned against the door, the fuzzy terrycloth of their hanging bathrobes feeling too rough against his fevered skin. He didn’t turn on the light, the frosted glass window beyond the toilet admitting a silvery glow. Rafa’s jars of shells were shadows on the windowsill.
“Shane?” Rafa’s knock jarred Shane’s bones even though it wasn’t more than a gentle tap. “What’s wrong?” The door handle jiggled. “Oh. What…” After a few moments, he asked again, “Shane?”
“I think it’s something I ate,” he scraped out. “Don’t worry, baby. Go back to bed.” He moved away from the door and stood closer to the toilet, leaning both hands on the counter. His head pounded as if he had a hangover, that heavy feeling of dehydration even though he’d only had two glasses of wine at dinner.
“The portions were so small at that fancy restaurant I went to that I had street meat on the way back to the car. Hot dogs are always a crapshoot. In this case, literally.”
“Shit. Um, literally.”
Shane managed a strained laugh, his pulse finally slowing as he blinked away the nightmare images. Rafa was right outside the door. He was whole. He was safe.
Breathe.
Yet grief rippled through him, the dream voices of his parents and the vision of their house in flames still fresh, a raw wound.
“Do we have any Pepto or anything?” Rafa tried the door again. “I want to help. I can run out to the all-night drugstore. There’d be no traffic.”
“No, no. It’s okay.” Shane lowered the toilet seat and sat wearily. “I just need to get it out. Trust me, you don’t want to smell this.”
“I can handle a little shit. Or a lot of it. Whatever.”
“I’m good. Go back to bed. I think there is some Pepto. I’ll just wait a few minutes and see if anything else is coming.”
After a few moments, Rafa reluctantly said, “Okay.”
Closing his eyes, Shane sat there until his heart beat normally and the sheen of sweat on his skin had dried. He ran his toes over the edges of the tiles, counting the seconds of his inhalations and exhalations, holding his breath in-between for the same amount of time.
He despised his weakness.
Guilt laid heavily over him like an itchy blanket. It was a stupid little fib to say he had diarrhea, but he hated lying regardless. Still, there was no need to worry Rafa with the nightmares. They were temporary. After the inquest, they’d stop. He could put all that shit to rest again. Rafa had moved past it so strongly. Shane sure as hell wasn’t going to drag him back into it.
Fuck. Shane hadn’t told him yet about having to return to the States either. By the time he’d gotten home from the long dinner meeting, which had ended with handshakes and a promise of couriered contracts to be signed, Rafa had been asleep in bed, the small TV on the dresser playing an international cricket match. Rafa had stirred when Shane slipped in beside him, but there’d been no sense in waking him for bad news.
But really, was it bad? Maybe it was all for the best. He rubbed his face. No, he knew Rafa would be upset, and that’s why he was putting it off. He muttered, “Fuck.” He’d tell him first thing in the morning.
After long enough, he flushed the toilet and washed his hands before creeping back to bed. He’d barely touched the mattress when Rafa spoke.
“You don’t need to be quiet. I’m awake.”
“Go back to sleep. It’s late. Or early. Either way.” He curled on his side, facing the covered windows.
“Do you feel better?” Rafa didn’t sound sleepy at all. He smoothed his palm over Shane’s back. “You’re so tense. Did you have a nightmare or something?”
“No. Just the shits.” As Rafa scooted closer and kneaded Shane’s tight shoulders, Shane couldn’t help but relax into it, even though Rafa should have been sleeping, not taking care of him. “Mmm. Feels good. Thanks.”
Rafa hummed, gently digging into Shane’s muscles. After a few minutes, he whispered, “You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you.”
Shane’s heart skipped. “Everything’s great.”
“So why did you just tense right up?” Rafa massaged him gently, thumbs pressing wonderfully at the base of Shane’s skull.
“You just hit a tight spot. Honestly, baby. I’m great.”
Rafa snuggled closer, spooning Shane and kissing the back of his neck tenderly. “Do you need anything? Do you want some water?”
I’m the one who’s supposed to take care of you. Shane shook his head, trying not to tense as guilt tugged, a fishhook in his gut. “You need to sleep.” He wriggled and turned, urging Rafa over as well until Shane was the one spooning him. “Thanks for your help.”
“I didn’t really do anything.”
“Sure you did. I think my stomach’s settled now.” He kissed Rafa’s head. Curls tickled his nose, and the heat of Rafa’s body in his arms was familiar and grounding. “’Night.”
“’Night. You promise you’ll wake me if you need anything?”
“Promise.”
The minutes ticked by with Rafa safe and warm in his arms, and Shane willed himself to just go back to sleep. Yet the whisper of guilt grew louder until he said, “You still awake?”
Rafa shifted onto his back and peered up at him. In the faint slice of ambient light from the bathroom window, Shane could just make out his face. “Yeah. What do you need?” He rubbed Shane’s arm soothingly.
“I got a phone call today. I have to go back to the States for the inquiry in a few days. I leave Tuesday.”
His turn to tense up, Rafa blinked at him in the shadows. “What? Why? They said you could testify from here.”
“They changed their position.”
“But my parents and Matty are coming.” His voice rose. “I want—you’re not going to be here?”
Shane tried for a light tone. “Hey, I’m sure they won’t mind one bit.”
“But I want them to see us together. I want to show them they’re wrong!” He flopped his arms down at his sides. “This really sucks. I had it all planned out in my head. And wait, why didn’t you tell me as soon as you found out?”
“I’m sorry. It didn’t seem like the right time.”
“Why?” After a moment, Rafa said, “Oh. Fine, maybe right after sex wouldn’t have been the greatest timing, but still.”
“I was going to tell you first thing in the morning.” That was the truth, at least. “But I should have told you right away. Look, I’ll be back as soon as possible. It’ll be several days at the most. Matthew and your parents will be here a few weeks. I’ll hardly miss anything.”
“But… You’ll be back for sure before we go on the fancy train to Perth?”
“Definitely.”
Rafa sighed. “You don’t work for the Secret Service anymore. Can they make you go? It’s not a trial; it’s an inquiry or whatever.”
“I’m sure they could come up with a legal reason. But regardless, I don’t want it to become a hostile situation. After what happened with Al, and falling in love with you, they don’t owe me any favors.”
“What Alan did wasn’t your fault.”
“He was my partner. I should have known.”
Rafa sighed heavily. “He hid it. You couldn’t read his mind. You’re too hard on yourself.”
A memory bloomed—the sight of Rafa stuffed into that box, battered and terrified, eyes wide and wild. Shane shuddered and drew him close again, burying his face in his neck. He inhaled deeply, the faint scent of sea and sand and Rafa filling his senses.
“Maybe you should stay at the hotel with your folks instead of here while I’m gone.”
“What?” Rafa jerked, and Shane raised his head to see the frown creasing his face.
“It’s safer.”
Rafa’s eyebrows shot up. “And our home isn’t? No one’s after me. I’m safe here. You realize zillions of people live by themselves, right?”
“I know. But you never have.”
“Huh.” He frowned. “I guess I haven’t. I went from the White House to living with you.” He rubbed his hand over Shane’s chest, teasing the hair there. “It’ll be good for me to spend a few nights here alone. I’m not a kid, and now that I’m out of the crazy White House bubble, I want to be normal. And it’s normal for people to be alone sometimes.”
“Uh-huh.” He was absolutely right, so Shane tried to ignore the persistent tug of worry in his gut.
A little smile lifted Rafa’s lips. “I’ll still miss you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He drew him down closer, and Shane rested his cheek on Rafa’s chest, the sparse hair tickling. It felt so safe and good, being held, yet guilt tugged again that Rafa was taking care of him.
Rafa held him tightly, running his fingers over the stubble on Shane’s head. “Relax. We’ll be fine. Everything’s all right.”
Eventually, Rafa’s breathing evened out, and Shane listened to the steady echo of his heart, blinking into the darkness, the threat of nightmares keeping him wide awake.