Ian’s calm acceptance seemed to thaw Owen’s stiffness. “You knew all along.”
“Not exactly. It’s one thing, living with pyros and kinetics. Then there’s Aidan, who’s an annoying mind reader. But you’re the first psychic assassin I’ve met.”
“Ah, could you keep that to yourself? Assassin is an ugly word.”
“Oh sure. Right. What do you prefer?” Something he’d heard mentioned, a long time ago, popped up to fit a missing piece in the puzzle of Owen Stallbridge. “Oh my God. It’s you. You’re the Fixer.” Fix the Fixer—Avery’s instructions via Keegan. “You’re a legend.” Or at least, he had been. But this trip with Caleb… “Are you still active?”
Owen looked uncomfortable, but to his credit, he didn’t pull away. “I haven’t done any contract work for a while. But Caleb needed something done.” His face turned stoic, and Ian tried to wipe the numbness away.
“Tell me.”
Owen sighed. “A very bad man, abusing children in ways no one should ever have to experience, was making a mess in South America. I took care of him. Except somehow, Kerr knew about it.” He frowned.
“Not good. So tell me how it works. Oh, and if you think I’d ever judge you for killing something like that, think again. Life isn’t black-and-white, Owen. I’m all about the gray.”
“Thank God.”
Owen kissed him again, and Ian remained pliant, not wanting Owen to feel in any way rejected or that Ian might be afraid of him.
“Is it wrong that I find you even sexier now?”
Owen laughed and pushed Ian onto his back. He moved on top of him, a bit awkwardly, what with his leg and a huge erection between them.
“I was worried you’d be afraid of me.”
“Do you plan to kill me?”
Owen’s mirth left him. “Never, little thief. You’re the safest person on the planet next to Heather.”
Ian felt a burst of joy. Being put on the same level of affection as Owen’s sister meant more than words could say.
“I found out about my power later in life,” Owen explained. “We knew Heather could heal. Mom and Dad had vestiges of talent. You would have liked my mom. She could spot a fraud from a mile away. No conning her on anything.”
“Nice.”
“My dad had a head for money. Guy could finagle a deal with eerie success. He really grew the business. I think I get some of that from him.”
“That’s a great talent to have.” Ian stared up at Owen, willing his lover to continue. Their closeness seemed to deepen, and he reveled in it, not wanting to think about tomorrows or endings but to hold this tight to his chest and never let go.
“Yeah. For years, I was just the ungifted, smart one.” Owen’s smile faded. “And then the Kerrs happened. Jacob had my parents killed, and I was pissed beyond reason. It turned something on in my brain, I think. I met with Jacob in private, told him I knew he’d done wrong. And when he couldn’t convince me to sell him back the company, he threatened Heather. I lost it. I grabbed him by the arm, and a huge surge of hate left me. Nailed him right in the heart.”
“You knew what you were doing?” Ian asked carefully, curious.
“No, but I can’t say I wasn’t happy about it.”
“I’d feel the same way.”
Owen rested on his forearms and lowered his mouth to Ian’s. The kiss didn’t last long enough.
“I left him twitching. No one saw me leave his office, since it had been late at night when we met. I went home and confessed what I’d done to Heather, and she cried. But she never told me I’d been wrong, and I love her for that. But the Kerrs knew. Henry and Carl pegged me for the death, though they could never prove it.”
“How do you do it?”
“At first, by touch.”
Owen wrapped his hand around Ian’s throat, to scare him? When Ian just lay there, Owen sighed.
“You really aren’t bothered by this at all, are you?”
“Should I be?” Ian figured if Owen meant to kill him, there wasn’t anything he could do about it, so why stress?
“No. Don’t ever be bothered by this.” Owen kissed him again, but this time he ground his cock against Ian’s belly. “You have no idea how much I want you right now.”
“Finish the story first.” Ian wanted everything.
“Fine. But I’m taking that ass in another minute or so.”
“Oh, we’re going to play. You can be sure of that.” Ian bucked up against him, aroused and not wanting to hide it.
“Shit. Fine. Quick version—I met with an old friend of my dad’s who was into some psychic research for the government. He paired me with Caleb, who’s a telepath and telekinetic. Double threat.”
“I really don’t like that guy,” Ian muttered with the jealousy he’d tried to ignore for the man entwined with Owen’s past renewed.
“Ian, Caleb is as straight as an arrow, trust me.”
Ian glared.
“Oh stop. He’s my spotter and a good friend, nothing more.”
“Spotter?”
“You know how snipers use a spotter to guide them to a target? Well, Caleb and I as a team expanded my range. At first, Caleb would have to be very close to tap into the target’s psyche. Then I connect with him and, through him, hit the mark. Thing is, when I fly down the tunnel, as I see it, I merge with the mark. I see what he or she is really like, and I know what I’m doing. I can pull back if need be, though it’s hard. That’s only happened once.” He frowned. “I will never take an innocent life. The men and women I’ve put down have done ugly, ugly things.”
“It stays with you.” Ian understood more about Owen’s gift. Not such a blessing after all.
“It does. I used to worry that I’d start to turn into them. The evil has a feel. Like a cloying sweetness, hiding the rot underneath. I hate it,” he growled. “And when I’m done, I’m weak. The blast of energy I shoot into them takes from me. The closer I am, the harder it is to remain separate.”
Ian nodded, stroking Owen’s strong arms. “With Linda, she was close. You had to touch her.”
Owen shook his head. “No. But she was close enough I reached her with no problem. That guy in Venezuela who just died. Caleb tapped into him. I was miles away when I arrowed into him. Fucking pedophile was into torture and blood sport, and those were his hobbies when he wasn’t selling meth and guns on the streets.”
“Shh. You did good, baby.” Ian ran his hands over Owen’s shoulders to his face. “Real good.”
“You going to reward me?” Owen asked in a thick voice.
“I am, but only because you came back in one piece.” The only fly in the ointment that Ian could tell—he didn’t like Owen’s ties to the government. He didn’t trust the bastards. They’d used him when it was convenient, then tried to wipe him off the planet. They could and probably would do the same to Owen.
“I don’t like the work anymore, not that I ever did. But some things are best left to others now. I only do the occasional favor for a personal friend of mine. Someone I’d trust with my life.”
Ian nodded slowly. “I guess. I just… Be careful with them, Owen.”
Owen’s expression eased. “Baby, I know what happened to you. You stumbled over the wrong conspiracy at the wrong time. But you did good, and you got out. You’re so smart, so sexy.” He paused. “It’s no wonder…” Owen leaned down to kiss him again.
No wonder what? But then Ian couldn’t think anymore, because Owen had sucked his nipples into a warm mouth, and his hand gripped Ian’s cock, rubbing over the moisture at his slit.
“Oh, yeah. Time for some fun with my new master,” Ian teased, out of breath.
“Not new master, your only master,” Owen corrected in a guttural voice. He reached for the little bag on the nightstand. “Now what’s in here, I wonder?”
OWEN HANDED THE bag to Ian, who took it with shaky hands he tried to hide. Good. Owen didn’t want to be the only one who’d fallen off an emotional cliff. He’d never thought to share all that with Ian, at least, not so soon. But the look in his thief’s eyes, that soft encouragement… Fuck. Ian had truly stolen his heart.
“Show me what you brought, thief.”
Ian dug around and withdrew a set of nipple clamps attached to a Y chain that led down to an adjustable cock ring made of leather. A cock ring—one of his favorite toys.
“Jesus. I want to see this on you right now.” Owen grabbed the thing from him and held it tight. “Lube?”
“Yeah,” Ian rasped. He handed Owen the lube and lay back, looking excited to have Owen put his toys to use.
“Let’s see. Your nipples need to be harder.” Owen sucked them to stiff attention before setting the clamps over them. They went on firm but not too hard, no doubt set to Ian’s level. Ian’s cock jumped, and Owen loved the slick sheen at his slit. His boy was more than excited. “Oh beautiful. Ian, fuck. I wish I had a camera.”
“Me too.”
Owen smiled. “I’m going to fuck you raw, little thief.” He needed to grease up, but he couldn’t take his eyes from the leather cock ring hanging by the chain.
Ian tried to spread his legs wider, but Owen still covered his thighs. He moved back and tugged the ring, which pulled at the clamps, effectively causing his lover to arch up off the bed in a breathy moan. “Fucking gorgeous.” He took the ring and unfastened the Velcro, pleased they wouldn’t have a constriction problem. This way he could make the ring tighter or looser, depending on Ian’s response.
Owen expertly wrapped the thin leather band around the base of Ian’s cock, under his testicles. He cinched it closed, and Ian sucked in a breath.
“Not too tight?”
“No, it’s fine. Please, lube up. I am so hard right now.”
Owen chuckled. “Yes, you are.” He still felt pain in his leg, but it was barely noticeable next to the fullness in his balls. “I want you to get me wet with your mouth. I’m going to lie here, and you’re going to show me what belongs to me. Then you’re going to bend down, on your hands and knees, with that tight ass in the air, and suck my cock.”
“Oh yeah.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Ian moaned. “Yes, Sir.”
He and Owen switched positions. Owen sat up against the headboard and laced his fingers behind his head. “Let me see you, thief.”
Ian stood proudly, his nipples caught in the clamps, the thin silver chain bisecting his corded belly to attach to the ring at the base of his shaft. His ruddy cock bobbed in time with his movements, the long rod out for display.
“Fucking beautiful. Bring it closer. Master wants a treat.”
Ian’s breathing was harsh, his eyes wild. He’d never looked more untamable…or vulnerable. So much smaller than Owen, yet so strong.
“You are without a doubt the most amazing creature I have ever seen in my life.” Owen clenched Ian’s hips as his boy bent his knees to angle that pearly cock toward Owen’s lips. “Now give me a taste.”
“Owen. Oh yeah,” Ian moaned as Owen licked his slit clean. “God, yes. Suck me. Let me come down your throat. I am so hard.”
Like a warm piece of velvety steel. Owen sucked him deeper, laving his crown and wanting more. He wanted to come deep in Ian’s ass and watch the man explode all over himself, that seed raining over his belly like a creamy waterfall.
Owen eased off Ian’s cock and tugged him back. “On your knees, boy. Let’s see you suck some cock.”
Ian scrambled to his knees, but not before Owen got a hand on the chain. A brief tug and Ian jetted a small bit of fluid.
“Not yet, Owen. Please.”
“Knowing you’re a breath from coming is so fucking hot.” Owen watched while Ian knelt, waving his ass in the air. He didn’t wait but engulfed Owen in one hot suck that made his eyes cross.
Owen arched into Ian’s mouth, fucking him without realizing it as Ian bobbed in time. Before he lost control entirely, he wrapped his hands in Ian’s hair and pulled. “You little bitch. Not yet.”
Ian moaned. “Yes, Sir. God, do that again.”
Owen pulled his hair, and Ian went down on him again, moving with Owen’s guidance. Once again pushed to the breaking point, Owen yanked him up and off his wet shaft. “Grease me up. I want in that ass. Now.”
Ian hurried to comply. When Owen was thoroughly slick, he moved off the bed. “Come here, and bring a pillow.” He arranged Ian at the side of the bed, his ass propped up on a pillow while Owen stood ready and willing to fuck.
He stared down at his lover, his boyfriend, and smiled. Ian looked like a work of art himself. The clamps and chain had been made to be worn by him. And that cock ring plumped his balls and made his cock look even larger. So wet and needy. For Owen.
“I want to watch this. We’re going to go slow…” He prodded Ian’s legs wider and positioned his cock at Ian’s hole. Then he took Ian’s cock in hand, rubbing his thumb over the slit while Ian writhed in frustration.
“Please. I need you in me.”
“Yes. You need me. Say it again.” Admit what I want more than my next breath.
“I need you, Owen.”
Owen pushed the head of himself in and nearly lost it. “Again,” he growled.
Ian didn’t blink. “I need you.”
He looked as open as Owen had ever seen him. And Owen had to have him. He slid slowly inside Ian while masturbating him, watching his lover get off while fucking him. He wanted to remain still, to enjoy the sensation of oneness. But he’d pushed them both too hard.
Owen started fucking him, long strokes in and out that hit Ian’s pleasure center, causing Ian to cry out, not even bothering to try to be quiet. Enraptured, Owen hammered harder and continued stroking Ian’s cock.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck, gonna come. Owen, yes. Yes.”
Ian yelled as he shot like a geyser, his seed landing all over his belly and Owen’s hand. He babbled incoherently as he released, and Owen reluctantly let him go so he could put his full attention on his own pleasure. It took three more thrusts before he lost his sanity.
“Ian,” he cried as he came harder than he ever had in his life. Oddly enough, he swore he felt a surge of power, not unlike what he sometimes experienced with Caleb, as he came. A psychic as well as a physical connection. And God knew, he already had an emotional tie to his lover.
“Fuck. I love you, little thief. I love you so much.” He thought he’d whispered it. At least, he prayed he had. But as he slumped over Ian and caught his breath, he felt Ian’s tight hug and a whisper of words over his shoulder. He just wished he knew what his little thief might have said.
IAN WANTED TO believe what he thought he’d heard, but he knew all too well that sometimes things said in the heat of lust meant nothing more than a damn good time. He didn’t mention it, nor did Owen. Not the next morning, or the next day after that.
A quiet week passed where Owen caught up on business and healed. Caleb had left with a promise to return soon. From the quiet way he and Owen would stand together sometimes, Ian knew they talked telepathically about dangerous crap Owen didn’t want him to worry about. He would have been more offended if Owen didn’t often include him with other matters in the household. That, and Owen had been fucking him like crazy, with a desire that still took Ian’s breath away. The man was hung like a stallion and didn’t care who knew he and Ian had a relationship. He now kissed Ian openly, in front of the others.
And no one seemed to care.
He’d also made a place for Ian in his life. Ian had been more than happy to take care of a few administrative matters for Owen to ease his own mind, like beefing up the man’s pitiful online security system. The Knoxes and Tim could worry about the physical security of the place, but Owen’s real vulnerabilities, in Ian’s opinion, lay in his weak firewalls.
He managed to beat Owen at cards but lost at Scrabble both times they’d played, and he’d never been happier to lose. So satisfying to have a worthy opponent once more. Tim seemed just as glad not to have to play with Ian again.
They’d had a family movie night just last night, and the confused expression on Tim’s face at being included had moved Ian. When he’d lain with Owen in bed, they’d talked about how well everyone fit in at the Bend home. The Bend home. It no longer weirded him out that Owen had more than one place to live.
He knew it was only a matter of time before Kerr attacked or Owen had to leave to address concerns in the financial world he’d been holding off. It felt surreal, being here with people who liked him. Even the Knoxes had thawed toward him, especially once Ian had given Reuben a few hints about how to woo Dolly from things he’d overheard her say. From the big smile on the guy’s face this morning and Dolly’s blush anytime she looked his way, Ian thought Reuben might have gotten lucky last night.
Too bad Joe moved like a snail around Tim. To Ian and Owen’s surprise, Tim was shy when it came to dating. If Joe didn’t make a move, nothing would happen. But instead of letting Ian give Joe a few pointers, Owen had advised him to let them be. Reuben didn’t see Ian as a threat with Dolly. Joe might not take the advice so well. A smart suggestion, considering Ian would belt Joe in the mouth if he thought about telling Owen how to handle him.
“Ian, could you come here for a minute?”
He waved at Bev and grabbed half a sandwich. “Hold on, oh lord and master.” He’d been having a grand time at Owen’s expense, and Owen allowed him the jeers. Only because Ian performed so well in bed as his slave, according to Owen. The big tease. “Where are you?”
“East wing,” sounded through the intercom on the wall.
The place had enough space that sometimes Ian turned in the wrong direction. He moved down the hallway toward the glass-enclosed sunroom and stopped. The door before the sunroom was open, and Owen stood inside.
“What do you think?” Owen asked.
Ian stepped cautiously into the room. “About what?” He saw a table and an easel, brushes, paints, and a few pieces of Owen’s more expensive art on the walls that hadn’t been there yesterday.
“This. Your office.”
“My office?” Ian gaped as he moved around. The sun was just setting outside, and the picturesque view he had of the mountains was to-die-for amazing.
“Well, not office exactly. There’s a computer desk I ordered, and the computer hasn’t come in yet. But I was thinking it could be a studio, you know. You like to paint, right?”
Owen had his hands in his pockets and seemed a bit tense. Ian didn’t know what to say. This seemed like a lot of trouble to go through for a few weeks’ stay. But the light in here couldn’t have been better. He had the sudden urge to create.
“You like it?” Owen asked again, frowning. “Because I could arrange something else. I just thought the light looked pretty good in here, and—”
“I love it!” Ian let himself be dramatic and spun around with his arms wide, laughing. He noticed the tension leave Owen’s broad shoulders, and a gorgeous smile lit his face. “Just think of all the great paintings I can reproduce! I’ll be a millionaire, like you, in no time.”
Owen shook his head. “Ian…”
“Oh relax. Don’t get your panties in a twist, sunshine. I’m teasing. I think I might try my hand at landscapes, since I have such a terrific view.”
“Maybe you could do one.” The pregnant pause sounded overly loud to Ian. “For our bedroom.”
“Really?” Our bedroom? “You’d want to hang something of mine in there?”
“An original, yes. Nothing copied.” Owen scowled. “And you need to tell Mannie Frankton that you’re withdrawing the Whistler he commissioned. That sucker’s mine.”
“Wait. What?” How had Owen found out about that? Ian had mentioned the etching he might copy a week ago to Mannie, his black-market contact. But now, the way he and Owen had been getting along, he wanted to keep their interaction private. He wouldn’t feel right selling anything to Mannie, not behind Owen’s back, at least.
“You have your sources. I have mine.” Owen winked at him, kissed him on the cheek, and sauntered out.
Had to be Tim. Ian shook his head, moved by Owen’s generosity. Our bedroom. Jesus.
It was getting harder to remind himself that Owen had been nice because of Kerr. Once that situation was remedied, he’d need to get back home to his things. His house. A place that meant a lot less to him, the more time he spent with his boyfriend.
Ian warmed. He had a boyfriend. Maybe he and Owen could continue once this ended. They wouldn’t be as tight, of course, but hell, Owen had trusted him with personal secrets he didn’t share with anyone else. He liked Ian as a person. They could at least remain friends.
Thoughts of the future without Owen depressed him, so Ian focused on his new studio. He didn’t like the paint color in here, so he decided he’d go with a creamy blue. No, green, a subtle jade over one wall to match Owen’s eyes… Better yet, a mural.
He might not be staying forever, but he’d sure as hell give Owen something to remember when he was gone.