Ethan checked himself in the floor-length mirror in his bedroom for the tenth time, his heart drumming steadily against his ribs.

Two days had passed since he’d seen the awful pictures that had been delivered to Saron along with the threatening note addressed to Joe. Although the detectives who had come to the club promised they would look into the matter further, Ethan could tell from Joe’s stormy expression that he didn’t think it would be enough. That must have been why he’d suggested the mad plan about to unfold.

“What are you doing this Sunday?” Joe had asked gruffly after the detective and his partner left the club.

Ethan had shrugged, puzzled. Sunday was the one day the club was closed.

“Nothing in particular. Why?”

“We’re going on a date.”

Ethan had blinked. “What?”

“I said, we’re going on a date,” Joe had repeated, his hazel eyes glinting hotly as he stared at Ethan across the staff room. “Be ready by one.”

Ethan had barely slept the night before, his fevered imagination coming up with all sorts of scenarios about what he and Joe would do on their date. Then, Ethan had recalled the cruel things Joe had done to him that night when he came to his apartment and the tender way he’d managed Ethan’s first panic attack only a couple of days past.

The man is one fucking ornery contradiction.

Ethan sighed, decided his outfit would have to do, and headed out the door.

Joe was standing under the awning of the apartment building, head bowed as he read something on his cell, his back to the wall and his legs crossed. He was dressed in jeans, a crisp white shirt, and a camel-colored blazer.

Ethan’s mouth went dry as he navigated the lobby. He slowed to a stop and watched Joe for a moment, his breath stilling in his throat. It wasn’t every day he had a chance to properly look at the man he’d fallen in love with nearly a year ago without the bastard being aware of it.

Ethan’s gaze skimmed Joe’s rugged features and full lips before dropping to his large hands and the hard lines of his body, a slow ache building in his groin as he stared at Joe’s denim-encased long legs.

That he’d been pressed against that incredible physique and kissed those delicious lips was something Ethan could still not quite believe.

Joe looked up then. His eyes flared when he saw Ethan standing behind the glass wall. He put his cell away.

Ethan swallowed and steeled himself before exiting the lobby and strolling over to Joe.

“Hey,” he murmured self-consciously.

Joe’s gaze skimmed Ethan from head to toe, appreciation darkening his hazel eyes as he took in Ethan’s gray designer jeans, moss-colored T-shirt, and denim jacket.

“You scrub up nice.”

“So do you,” Ethan said. “For an old guy.”

Joe sighed.

“I’m thirty-five.”

Ethan grinned, shoulders dropping and body relaxing at their familiar banter. “So, what are we doing?”

“I thought we’d take a walk through the park in Chiyoda, maybe catch a movie in Ginza.”

“Be still my beating heart,” Ethan said deadpan.

Joe’s lips twitched as they started down the road.

“After that, we’re having dinner in Roppongi. I booked us a table at Ryugin.”

Ethan’s eyes widened at the mention of the Michelin-starred restaurant.

“Now you’re talking.”

* * *

Joe leaned against the railing, the night air fresh against his face. He glanced at Ethan where he stood beside him, green gaze sweeping the majestic vista.

“I never tire of this view,” the bartender murmured.

They were on the Sky Deck atop Mori Tower, the huge complex at the heart of Roppongi Hills. The city of Tokyo was spread out below and around them, a dazzling display of colorful lights stretching out as far as the eye could see, the noise from the distant traffic a background drone.

Joe smiled faintly at Ethan’s admission. He was surprised at how much fun he’d had on their date. From their leisurely walk through the park to the cheesy chick flick Ethan had forced Joe to watch in revenge for his past misdeeds, to the amazing meal they’d just shared, Joe didn’t think he’d enjoyed himself so much in someone else’s company, bar Cam, before.

They left Roppongi a short while later and made their way back to Bunkyo, both of them dragging their feet while they chatted, neither wishing for their date to end. They reached Ethan’s building far too fast for Joe’s liking.

Ethan hesitated on the porch, his key card in hand, his expression telling Joe he was just as reluctant for them to part ways.

“Thanks for today,” he said quietly. “It was a great idea to try to flush him out, but I don’t think it worked.”

Joe’s pulse started a steady rising beat in his veins as he studied Ethan.

“We can try again.”

Ethan’s eyes flared at Joe’s words. His gaze turned heavy-lidded and dropped to Joe’s mouth.

“Sure,” he murmured, his voice sultry.

Shit.

Joe grabbed Ethan’s waist and pushed him against the glass exterior of the lobby. He wedged one leg between Ethan’s thighs, angled Ethan’s head with one hand, and pounced on his mouth.

Ethan’s breathing turned ragged. His hands rose to clutch Joe’s shoulders, his lips parting sweetly beneath Joe’s mouth, letting him in. Joe accepted the invitation with an eager thrust of his tongue and was rewarded by the delicious shudder that ran through Ethan and the way he flexed his hips against his leg.

So fucking sexy.

Joe deepened the kiss, his cock swelling and throbbing against Ethan’s belly, pleasure sparking through his entire body as Ethan’s tongue danced with his, the bartender’s breathy gasps and moans an erotic music that inflamed Joe’s senses further.

A noise reached him dimly through the blood roaring in his ears. Joe blinked and caught movement in the reflection in the glass opposite him.

Someone stood staring at them from behind a bush across the road.

Joe stiffened. He wrenched his mouth from Ethan’s and twisted on his heels.

The figure turned and ran.

“Get inside!” Joe shouted at Ethan over his shoulder as he gave chase.

The bartender nodded shakily, body rooted to the ground for a frozen moment before he slid his key card in the lock and stumbled inside the lobby.

Joe’s angry gaze found the man sprinting along the walkway some fifty feet away.

Gotcha, you bastard!

He put his head down and accelerated, feet pounding the asphalt.

The man suddenly dove to the right and disappeared from view.

Joe’s stomach twisted. He reached the spot where he’d last seen him and glimpsed a shadowy figure cutting across a small park. He vaulted over the railing and followed, his heart racing in his chest.

Shit, he’s heading for the subway!

Joe cursed as Ethan’s stalker dashed inside Sengoku Station moments later. The man jumped over the barriers and headed for the platform just as a train pulled up.

A group of rowdy, drunk men stepped off, their tottering legs bringing them straight into Joe’s path when he leaped over the barriers in pursuit. He swore as he slipped and shoved through them, losing precious seconds.

Joe reached the train just as the doors closed. He punched the carriage with his fist as it started to move, his breaths coming hard and fast. He stepped back and scanned the bright interior with narrowed eyes. His pulse stuttered when he caught a glimpse of a tall, hooded figure watching him as the train picked up speed and disappeared down the track.

Ethan was waiting inside the brightly lit lobby of his apartment building when Joe retraced his steps. His face was pale, his hands clenching and unclenching by his sides. He opened the front door and stepped out, relief washing across his anxious features.

“Thank God. I was—”

“Pack a bag,” Joe ordered curtly. “You’re staying over at mine from now on.”