“This place is insane,” Noah whispered into the phone as he found his corner as far from the client’s bedroom as possible. And it was pretty far because the apartment could actually swallow the home he shared with Rowe. The penthouse—it would be another penthouse—stretched from one side of the brick building to the other. The wide-open spaces made him feel small. Cathedral ceilings and the sparse decor made everything echo. “You think Vallois’s penthouse is lush? You should see this woman’s place. It’s all white. White everywhere. I’m afraid I’ll leave stains just breathing in here. And there isn’t one thing out of place.”

He’d found a gray metal barstool he couldn’t mess up and placed it in an area that gave him full view of most of the main room of the apartment. He settled onto it and cradled the phone to his ear. “There are twelve windows stacked in twos along one wall, Rowe,” he continued. “Twelve. Each one taller than me. White curtains from the high ceiling fall to the floor and the furniture, carpet…hell, even the rugs are this color. I don’t get it.”

Rowe laughed, husky and soft. “That would drive me nuts. There are obviously no pets.”

He could hear the sheets rustling and wished so badly he was there right then. “There’s a cat around here somewhere. Fluffy like crazy and guess what color? I could be looking at it right now and not know it.”

Rowe laughed again and the throaty rasp of the noise did things to his body as always. God, he loved nothing more than hearing that sound when in bed next to him. Which hadn’t happened for three nights now. He sighed, unhappy about facing another all-night session in this cold palace without Rowe’s warmth. “I miss lying next to you.”

“So do I. Daisy’s company just isn’t the same. I was hoping you could swap out with Royce tonight, but I needed him elsewhere. We’re starting to come up short.”

They were. Rowe and Andrei had been going out on more jobs and it looked like they’d need more people on the computers as well. Quinn and Gidget had been pulling long hours and Noah had been helping them. On nights like this, when he was overnighting as a bodyguard, it was nothing to flip open his laptop and help them comb through social media. When a client came in, suspicious and scared, the first thing they did was a profile analysis if the client knew who was after them. Or behavior profiling, as Quinn called it. Nowadays, it was easy to ferret out all kinds of information. Noah had actually started to love this part of the process. When he’d taken this position, he’d considered it a temporary solution—not really wanting to rely on Rowe for his job—but he loved the work. “Business is really picking up.”

“It is. Finally. It only took months after the fires to reestablish our reputation. We’re going to have to hire more people.”

“You going to let Andrei weed through the masses again?”

“Of course. He’s got a knack for picking good ones. Sven is one of the best employees I’ve ever had.”

There were more rustling noises and Noah could easily imagine Rowe, who always slept naked when they were home, sprawled out on their sheets. This week, they were white and his pretty skin and black tattoo would stand out in a vision he never tired of.

“Daisy, move.” A dog snort and soft cursing sounded. “I think she misses you, too. She won’t leave my side when you’re not here.”

The woman he was guarding had been in her room for a couple of hours. She was pretty nice, really, and she had reason to need a bodyguard because she’d recently invested in a bunch of free clinics and there were some not-so-happy fanatics enraged about some of the women’s care options she’d added to the program. Lucille Arinov was so much more than a socialite who’d been born with a silver spoon. In fact, her warm, caring personality didn’t fit this winter decor at all. If he’d met her before seeing her place, he would never have believed it hers.

Rowe made a soft grunt and Noah knew he’d turned onto his side. He closed his eyes, picturing his boyfriend in their bed and got an idea. Eyes flying back open, he looked at the boring, gray, square piece of metal on the wall—one of the few things of color in the room—and thought about a good way to pass a little time. “So…what are you wearing?”

Rowe was silent a long time before he blew out a breath. “Oh yeah. Now we’re talking. Hold on while I kick the dogs out.”

He smirked at the bad wall art. Rowe was always up for a game, but he couldn’t stand the idea of any of the dogs watching him have his sexy time. Noah was surprised they could kiss in front of the “kids.” Fuck, he loved him.

“Okay, back and now naked.”

“That was fast.”

“You haven’t been home in four days, Noah. That’s forever.”

“So, you’re sprawled out. Completely naked. On our bed.”

“Yep.”

As all the blood rushed to his dick, Noah groaned. This was going to be so hard. He couldn’t risk doing anything here, so this would all be for Rowe. Which made him grin. He could make him do anything.

“Grab the lube, babe.” He lowered his voice. “And listen closely because I’m not raising my voice above this level.” He strained to hear any movement from the woman. The apartment so quiet, he could hear the pop of the lube cap. “Hold the phone near your dick so I can hear you getting it nice and wet.”

“Fuck, Noah,” Rowe breathed but he did as he was told.

Noah closed his eyes, wishing he was there.

Harsh breathing let him know Rowe had brought the phone back up. “I love your body. Every damn thing about it down to the last mole. Love the way you smell, the way you sleep plastered against me until you get hot and move away…only to come back as soon as you cool off. And your taste? God, Rowe, there is nothing better on this Earth. I love tasting the outside of your body but you know what?”

“What?” he whispered.

“I really love the inside. You like when I slide my tongue into your ass, Rowe?”

The moan on the other end was loud and lusty.

Noah squirmed on the unforgiving metal barstool. The sounds coming from the phone sent red-hot lust spiking through his body. He closed his eyes. “You love when I fuck you like that? Huh? With my tongue? You always make so much noise and writhe all over the place. I have to hang on to you by the hips just to keep you there for my mouth.”

“You’re killing me.” Gruff moans increased. “Love doing that to you, too.”

“You’re good at it. So good with your mouth. Remember that time you went down on me in Lucas’s office building in that utility closet?”

“Fuck,” Rowe drew out. “That was so hot.”

The memory made sweat pop up over Noah’s lip, under his arms, and on his forehead. “We couldn’t even make it out of the building. One look in the elevator. One fucking look, Rowe, and I had to have your mouth on me. Your hands. You have such strong hands and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t want them on my skin.”

He took a deep, shaky breath and listened to the sound of Rowe jacking himself. The slap of his hand on his lubed dick. He’d go fast, then slow things down and try to stay at the slower rhythm until he got too excited and his hand would speed up. Noah loved to watch him do it.

“I stopped the elevator and pulled you into that closet and the whole time, I knew that someone at the office could have caught us disappearing in there. That they’d know why. I knew that someone could come along and need something from that supply closet. So did you. But you like that extra edge of danger, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Rowe breathed.

“Slow your hand down, babe. Make it last.”

“Can’t.” Harsh pants sounded. “Last.”

“You can. You have to listen to my story.”

“I was there. Just the memory is tipping me over.”

“You fell to your knees and had my jeans open and my cock in your throat before I could find somewhere to brace my hands. Swallowed me so deep, Ward. So. Fucking. Deep. And such a wicked, wonderful tongue you have. You yanked my jeans down, ran your hands all over my thighs. You love my thighs, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Smell so good there. Up high.”

Noah smiled. “You slid your hands up and lodged your thumbs right under my balls before you sucked them one at a time into your mouth. When you came back to my dick, do you remember what I did then?”

“Yeah.”

“What?” Noah whispered. “What did I do?”

“You made me…” He stopped and groaned. “Hold my mouth open. Fed it to me.”

“I did. I gripped myself tight and dipped into your mouth over and over. I coated your lips with my pre-come. Made them glisten before I slowly, so slowly, pressed back into your mouth until I felt the end of my cock touch your throat. Fuck, it’s so hot and silky back there.”

“Noah…” Rowe groaned his name.

“I felt that orgasm in every nerve of my body. My toes curled in my shoes and it felt like my heart tried to leap from my chest. I dropped to my knees and—”

“Kissed your come out of my mouth.”

Noah pressed a hand to his cock, just one touch, his gaze darting to each opening in the room. “You didn’t let me finish you off. You wanted to wait, let the desire linger until we got home. And do you remember what you did then?”

“I dragged you to our room and bent you over the bed.”

“Fucked me through the mattress that afternoon and then again that night. I felt it in every step I took the next day.” He let a low moan seep into the phone and heard Rowe gasp. “I love when you bend me over and hold me down so you can slide far—”

He broke off when Rowe yelled. And yelled again. A taut, guttural noise that nearly made him come inside his pants. His dick was so hard, it ached.

Then he had to smother a grin when he heard a muffled bark from whichever dog hovered outside the bedroom door.

“That’s it.” Rowe breathed into the phone, the words clipped and breathy. “Hiring more people tomorrow.”

Yeah, it would take longer than that, but he understood the sentiment. He’d spent years pining after this man and now that he had him, being apart was like having half his body missing. He loved nothing more than waking up to sleepy kisses and warm sweaty skin because they always ended up against each other. Every fucking night. He hated that when he awakened from the little sleep he got here, it was alone.

“Noah?”

Rowe had gotten most of his voice back, but he still talked low—like the intimacy of what he’d just done in their bed, probably in the dark, kept him in the fantasy of having Noah home and right next to him. “Yeah?”

“How did I get so damn lucky?”

Something moved and Noah’s gaze shot to the cat that had indeed, been nestled in some pillows on the couch. He watched it stretch, leap down, and wander gracefully toward the kitchen. He thought of Rowe’s dogs—no, their dogs—who were never graceful and sure as hell didn’t blend. He thought of Rowe with his mussed red hair and his short, tough frame. He thought of his wicked smile and the way he never stopped touching Noah. His man didn’t blend into any background, no. He stood out, bright and loud. Lusty and affectionate. And loving as hell. He was the color in Noah’s world.

“I’m the lucky one, Rowe.”