What did I do last night?

Soft skin. Vanilla and cinnamon again. The taste of his neck. His ass pressed against my cock. The sounds of our desperate, lust-ridden groaning filling the room.

I kept my eyes shut, but my heart jumped as it all came back to me. So, so many emotions I hadn’t dusted off in a long time sprang up all at once to remind me that I’d given them all a workout last night, and they were about to pay me back for it.

Regret was not one of the things I felt. At least, I didn’t think so. The words that flew through my head the most were “It happened,” over and over again, as if something in me had been waiting on it a long time. I knew it had. Trying to think anything else was just kidding myself. It happened, and it happened in a big way.

I moved my leg a few inches, and I just barely felt it brush up against Jamie’s warm skin before he moved his leg too, stirring a bit before going still. He must have still been asleep. The thought that he was resting peacefully in my bed next to me made my cock swell up, and I half-consciously pushed my hips against the bed to make my shaft pulse with desire.

That reminded my whole body what last night had been, in my half-waking state. It hadn’t just been sex. It had been something that I couldn’t put to words. I could still feel every muscle in my chest, arms, hips, and legs all feeling so blissfully relaxed in ways I’d never experienced before. It was as if the afterglow was lasting even until now, from my body to my mind.

I could still taste him on my lips.

Sleep started to take me again, and I felt my mind replaying scenes from last night over and over again. I couldn’t stop a smile from coming to my lips. The last things we’d said to one another before we started going at each other filled me with so much emotion that I didn’t care what I said. Jamie was the one who said I was straight, and sure, I said it back to him. I’d been married once, and it was to a woman. But when he had said that, it had dawned on me that I’d never really thought about it before then.

I wanted who I wanted, and I wanted Jamie.

That comforting thought was so close to rocking me back to sleep when my phone buzzed, and I jolted awake. My time as a detective taught me to be able to jump at that. I heard a murmur from Jamie, who stirred and rolled over next to me. I grabbed the phone and slid out of bed as quickly as I could without disturbing him, then made my way to the bathroom. I shut the door and turned the fan on before answering the call, taking a deep breath and hoping my voice wasn’t too thick and groggy with sleep.

“Hello?” came my gruff, thick voice. Damn, so much for sounding alert.

“Hello, this is Steve Davies, Scotland Yard. May I ask who I’m speaking to?”

“Damon Hunt,” I said automatically.

It was common for sensitive calls to ask the recipient’s name, to minimize the risk that someone could tell the wrong person delicate information.

“Good morning, Mr. Hunt,” the British voice on the other end said. “I was the arresting constable from last night. I wanted to let you know that the perpetrator who assaulted Mr. Davenport last night has been released from medical and can now be interrogated. We assumed you and Mr. Davenport would want to be able and come have a word with him yourself.”

That surprised me a little. The protocol I was used to would never allow someone who was just private security to step in and interfere with police work like this, and somehow, I didn’t think the differences between US and British law enforcement were that dramatically different. Then again, I had never run private security for someone as well connected and wealthy as Jamie.

Money and status opened a lot of doors, and now was not the time for me to question it.

“I’ll be down there shortly,” I said. “What about Bradley? Is he in custody? Bradley Shumaker, the other man who was on the scene with Mr. Davenport when everything happened?”

“We had no reason to detain Mr. Shumaker,” the constable said, and I felt my grip on the phone tightening.

“He was the one who led Jamie back there!” I said, barely able to restrain my anger. “He practically handed Jamie over to them!”

“Sir, I do not know whether or not that’s true, and I have no way of knowing,” the constable said pointedly, like I expected him to.

I rested my forehead against the cool bathroom wall tiles.

Just be cool, Damon. He’s just doing his job.

But I knew Bradley was involved. It was too well organized, too fluid. I saw them just before it was too late, but all that did was prove to me that indeed, there was no evidence to that effect.

That didn’t change the fact that I knew I was right, though. I’d have to find a way to have a word with Bradley, one way or another. Bradley was the only one involved who knew Jamie beforehand. Assuming this wasn’t some big conspiracy that’s been going on behind Jamie’s back for years, Bradley had to be someone I might make some headway with.

“Fine,” I finally breathed. “Like I said, I’ll be down there shortly. Be ready for me.”

I hung up the phone, feeling a little better about myself for telling Scotland Yard they needed to wait for me.

I walked back out to the room, and I was grateful to see that Jamie was a heavy sleeper. He was still lying there, eyes shut, chest rising and falling with his face half buried in blankets. My heart did a flip at the sight. There was something so picturesque about the way his face looked on its side, so peaceful and relaxed despite everything that happened last night. I reached a hand out to stroke his cheek, but I thought better of it. I rubbed the scruff on my face instead and picked up some clothes, got dressed, and headed out of the suite.

The two guards from hotel security at the doors on standby glanced at me as I exited. I’d arranged for the hotel to have guards on hand overnight, since I hadn’t expected to be with Jamie at all times. Shit, they probably knew. They definitely knew.

Oh well.

“I want two men outside this door at all times, no exceptions,” I said, pointing to each of them and the door pointedly.

I wasn’t going to give them room to say anything.

“Nobody but Mr. Davenport comes in or out, unless they have clearance from Mr. Davenport’s mouth directly. Do you understand?”

“Aye, sir,” they both said separately, and I gave them a firm nod and headed off.

As I walked down the hallway, I slowed down, feeling a twinge of guilt. Jamie would almost definitely feel bad if he woke up and didn’t see me at his side. I pulled out my phone and sent him a quick text explaining where I was headed, that I would be back, and that he should stay in the suite until I returned.

I had always been fairly direct and curt in my text messages, but to my surprise, I found myself pausing and reading my text over. And I did so a second time. Then, I scrolled back to the top of it and added, “Hope you slept well.”

Before I had a chance to second-guess myself, I hit send, and that was that.

The trip to the station was easy. I took a cab, deciding to stick to something low profile in case I was being watched. I knew how paranoid that sounded, but I was dealing with billionaires, who were in turn dealing with billions of dollars’ worth of money, research, and in my case, Jamie. Once I was there, I checked in, and as soon as I flashed my ID, things went very smoothly. Once again, connections to a billionaire opened doors most people didn’t even know existed.

“He’s right this way,” the constable said as he led me down a hallway to an interrogation room.

Everything in the UK felt different in odd ways, but an interrogation was something I could handle no matter where I was.

“I’ll be supervising you. Our regulations here are a little different than what you may be used to,” he added, and I scoffed audibly.

I didn’t care to get talked down to right then.

We entered the room, where the fucker sat still as a statue, except for his eyes. His eyes followed me from the moment they could see me. I strode around to the table and sat across from him, leaning back and letting one of my hands rest on the table as we stared at each other for a few moments.

“Let’s clear this up first,” I said. “You in a talking mood?”

Silence.

“Hasn’t said a word since we brought him in,” the constable said, and I nodded.

That sounded about right. I looked to the man’s arm and noticed the edge of a tattoo that looked familiar to me. After a moment, it clicked. Being from New York City meant I’d recognize the full tattoo in a heartbeat. My eyes went down to his wrists, and it confirmed my theory.

“You’re bratva, aren’t you?” I said, leaning forward and furrowing my brow.

His face was stony.

“Bet the Brits don’t pick up on that. Me, I’ve spent my fair share of time down at Brighton Beach. I know what to look for.”

I gestured to his wrists. They sported tattoos of manacles, and below them on his hands were orthodox cathedrals.

“You’ve done hard time. And that snarling dog I see poking out from under your sleeve tells me you’ve fought with cops before. Probably even killed one.”

A dog with its teeth bared was a sign of fighting with authority. If it were anyone else, I’d keep pushing, but this was bratva. They were a different class altogether.

“I’m not going to waste my time with this one,” I said, standing up, thoroughly confusing the constable. “Russians like him don’t crack, period. Not on their own men, anyway. I’ll have better luck tracking down Bradley.”

“That prick?”

Both the constable and I looked at the Russian, who had spoken for the first time. I held back a smile. He took my bait.

“Got something to say?” I venture casually.

“I’ll give you Bradley for a bargain,” he said simply.

“Straightforward,” I said, sitting back down and smiling. “I can appreciate that. Let’s talk.”

Half an hour later, I was hurrying out of the station with an address jotted down on a piece of paper in my hand. Supposedly, it was where Bradley was staying in London, right down to the room number. If it was all correct, the constable had agreed to get the Russian some leeway when his trial rolled around. Nothing that would put Jamie at further risk, but just enough to get the Russian to give away something that he didn’t care about anyway.

The hotel where Bradley was staying wasn’t far from the station, so I just ran instead of bothering with a cab. Soon, I was slowing down to a jog through the front doors and making my way to the elevators. Before I could get there, though, I passed the hotel’s restaurant and bar, where I was stunned to see Bradley leaning against the bar and chatting up the barista, who was doling out an espresso for him.

I felt a smile spreading across my face as I strode over toward him. He didn’t even notice me until I was sitting down next to him, setting twenty quid on the bar.

“I’ve got my friend here,” I said as Bradley turned to me slowly with widening eyes. “And I’ll take a coffee. Black.”

Before Bradley could get up, I seized him by the collar and squeezed his shoulder gently, looking over at him as if we were good friends. He was shaking already.

“Look, I don’t know what you want, but –”

“Yeah, you do,” I said, sounding exhausted. “Now look, I’m not here to take you in, so let’s not make a scene. We have a mutual friend, and we’re just here for a talk over coffee.” I looked over at him when the barista walked away and added with a little more enthusiasm than was necessary, “But if you feel like bolting and making me chase you down and beat the shit out of you in an alley, be my guest.”

Something about the murderous tone in my voice made Bradley decide to stay put, but I kept my hand on his shoulder, just in case. I flashed a smile at the barista as my drink arrived, then turned back to Bradley.

“Why don’t you tell me how you and Jamie ended up dancing so close to danger last night?”

“I – I don’t know!” he whispered. “It just happened, I have no idea who those guys were!”

“Bradley…” I teased him, tightening my grip on his shoulder, and he swallowed.

“Sweet god, please don’t hurt me,” he said. “Fine, I – I got a call from this, this person.”

“Man or woman?”

“I don’t know,” he hissed. “They were using one of those things that masks your voice, makes you sound like you’re growling like on those cop shows. I think it was a man?”

Voice-modulating software.

“They told me to get Jamie to somewhere quiet and shadowy, out of the way,” he said. “They offered me some money for it, but it wasn’t much, just a few thousand. So, I – I assumed it was some kind of paparazzi thing at worst! I swear!”

I glared long and hard at Bradley. I’d come to trust my gut over the years, and my gut was rarely wrong. People who were lying were like a stink in the air to me. I could almost always tell, and right now, the signs were pointing to Bradley being honest.

He was a dumbass of the highest caliber, but he was an honest dumbass.

“Well, today’s your lucky day,” I said, taking my coffee and downing half of it in one go. “The constable says we don’t have enough evidence to bring you in…yet,” I added, just so he wouldn’t get too comfortable. “So, here’s what you’re going to do. Stay out of this, keep your fucking head down, and if anyone you don’t know approaches you again, especially if it’s anything to do with Jamie, you don’t talk to them. Do we have an understanding?”

“Y-yeah,” he murmured, nodding his head quickly.

I grinned and patted him on the back, then strode off, coffee in hand.

I didn’t want to admit how good that felt.

Back at Jamie’s hotel, I headed back upstairs. I filled in the constable over the phone on the drive over, so with any luck, he’d hold up our end of the bargain for the Russian. I didn’t care much for the well-being of a bratva piece of trash who almost hurt Jamie, but I was a man of my word, and I knew he was just another cog in the machine. Wasting time going after him wouldn’t get me anywhere more than it would have with Bradley.

I got back up to the penthouse to see the guards still hanging around outside.

“I’ve got this covered,” I said, nodding to them. “You’re dismissed. Be on standby. We might have to leave again today.”

The two nodded, and I headed inside.

To my surprise, Jamie was there, sitting at the desk with his laptop. He was wearing nothing but an undershirt and his pants, and I had to admit, something about how comfortable he looked stirred something in me. I opened my mouth to dump out a report for him, but I stopped myself, realizing I was a little too eager to tell the man I was coming home to what all I’d done at work today.

Jesus, Damon, you’re not that domestic. Chill out.

“Hey,” I said, smiling. “Sleep well?”

He didn’t reply for a moment before giving a distracted, “Uh-huh.”

His eyes were glued to the screen. I frowned but brushed it off.

“Well, I just got back from making the rounds,” I said, taking a few steps forward. “The guy I punched is bratva, but he told me where to find Bradley. Bradley was paid to do his part leading you somewhere dark, but he’s mostly innocent – just not bright.”

“Huh.”

I pursed my lips, then raised my eyebrows as I stepped closer. He still hadn’t looked away from his screen. I assumed there was something going on with the expo or work, since he wasn’t able to present last night. I approached him and made my way around the desk to look over his shoulder.

He was playing a fucking video game.

My mouth fell open, and I stared at him a few moments before speaking again.

“Are you…paying attention, Jamie?”

He paused his game, and a razor-sharp glare shot up at me so quickly I almost staggered back.

“About as much as you’ve paid to me this morning,” he said, and he stood up to move away from me, sitting on the bed and checking his phone on its charger.

But I could see the screen from where I was standing; he was just flicking through the calendar app and not actually doing anything.

I wanted to roll my eyes. Hell, I wanted to get defensive, and all the training in me told me this is where I should have gotten into a fight. Instead, I took a deep breath, took a step back, and thought over my morning. Jamie was a smart guy. He didn’t feel hurt for nothing.

“I deserve that,” I admitted simply.

Jamie stopped scrolling, but he didn’t look at me as I went on.

“I…I didn’t have to rush out like that this morning. I mean, I did have to hurry, but I could have stopped and said good morning to you in person. Hell, a big part of me wanted to.” I paused. This kind of thing wasn’t easy for me. “But the call from the constable was an excuse that was too easy to take to avoid having a conversation I’ve never planned on having.”

Finally, Jamie turned to look at me, his face still and unreadable. Even so, fuck, was he gorgeous. Even though this was as close to a fight as I was willing to get, I felt my cock stirring between my legs. I took a few steps forward and sat on the other side of the bed, staring into his eyes with my usual gruff, hardened expression.

“What you said last night, before we got started,” I said, “I don’t want you to think that’s something that’s in the way. I’ll admit, I never thought I could feel this way for another man. But I mean that in more ways than one.”

Something subtle changed in Jamie’s expression, and I pressed on.

“I’ve never really thought about my sexuality. At all. That hit me this morning. I just…you get raised a certain way, and you don’t meet the right people who click with you, and it just never crosses your mind. Or hell, maybe it crosses straight people’s minds, but not mine.”

It was the most tempting thing in the world to just look away and stare at the wall while I talked. It probably didn’t sound like much, but by my standards, this was me spilling my guts. I hadn’t even spoken this honestly with Joan.

“And how do you feel about last night, Damon?” Jamie asked softly.

“Good,” I said without missing a beat. “Real fucking good, Jamie.”

Jamie tried hard to keep a smile off his face, but he was bad at it. I scooted toward him and wrapped an arm around him to pull him close to me, and he didn’t resist. He seemed unsure, still looking at me cautiously, but he slowly relaxed as I squeezed him. And as I did, I felt my heart thumping hard against my chest. This felt…right. Righter than I could have ever expected.

“How do you feel about it?”

“Real fucking good,” he repeated my words, and we laughed for a moment, both of us poking fun at ourselves.

“This is new for me, I’ll admit,” I said, “but I know myself, and I know what I like. And I sure as hell like you, Jamie. It’s new in all the good ways.”

“That, I…that makes me…oh my god, how is your awkwardness rubbing off on me?” Jamie laughed, burying his face in my shoulder, and I chuckled as I patted him on the back.

“I hear you,” I said comfortingly. “And hey, cards on the table. If you’re still game after all this blows over, I might just like to see where all this takes us. And I mean that,” I said as he looked up at me. “But right now, there are some fuckers after you with bratva on their payroll, and that means I’ve got to stay focused on them. For your sake.”

Jamie scooted closer to me, wiggling against my body and resting his head on my shoulder. I sensed an unspoken “Apology accepted” in his body language. We sat there for a few long moments before he spoke again.

“You lead me out of trouble, and I’ll see if I can lead you into it,” he said at last. “Deal?”

I smirked.

“Deal.” After a pause, I added, “Take you that long to come up with that one?”

“Oh, shut up,” he said, and we descended into laughter again.