Owen did his best to close his mouth and school his expression. Damn it, he was jealous. He knew Caleb liked women. But seeing his friend standing so close to his little thief bit at his nerves.
“I’m not jealous.”
Ian glowed with mirth. “You are,” he said in a breathy voice.
Owen ignored the laugh bubbling inside him at Ian’s teasing, not sure how he managed to vacillate between annoyance and humor so easily around the stubborn man. “I’m not. I wanted to see what you’ve been up to all day while I’ve been closeted with work.” Making plans rearranging meetings and business so he could take a trip south to kill a murderer.
“Hmm.”
“What?”
Ian shrugged. “Nothing. I hear you’re going away for a few days.”
Caleb had a big mouth. Owen had planned to tell Ian after bribing him to stay in the house and out of trouble. He’d already filled Tim in on his duties while Owen was gone—keeping an eye on Ian.
“Did you get a chance to look through all my things? Is my Breitling still there?”
Ian smirked. “Please. I’ve seen better jewelry at the mall.” He said it with scathing emphasis.
Owen grinned. “Sorry to disappoint you. Most of my money is socked away in banks and investments. Houses, properties, that kind of thing. I do have a few pieces of art I’m keeping an eye on, though.”
“And don’t forget your hoards of clothes.”
“One closet is not a hoard.”
“It’s a walk-in closet the size of my living room. Too bad we aren’t the same size.” Ian sighed. “But then, you wouldn’t like me as much. You don’t go for the big, ugly, manly types, do you?” Like Dalton went unsaid.
Owen chuckled. “Ian, you don’t have to worry about Caleb. He and I are just friends. Not like you and I are, baby.”
Ian flushed. “Don’t call me baby.”
“Little thief. Boy. Mine. That better?” Owen closed the distance between them and pulled Ian out of the chair. Then he sat and yanked Ian onto his lap. He scooted forward so he could wrap Ian’s legs around him, to get closer to his lover face-to-face.
“Gee, Santa, is this what I get for Christmas? A boner up my ass?”
Owen couldn’t help getting hard around him. Something about Ian triggered his happy switch. He’d been this attracted once, a long time ago, to his first crush. In college, a boy two years his senior had shown him just how much fun men could be. But that attachment was nothing like this incredible connection he felt with Ian. Owen just wished it went both ways.
Ian liked his wealth, and Owen wanted to think they had a rapport. But to feel anything deeper made little sense. They’d only recently gotten to know each other. Their month together had been fraught with power plays and Ian trying to get the best of him. Owen had fantasized that sex would put the man in his grasp. Instead, it lowered Owen’s resistance to the smart-mouthed thief.
Owen sighed. “With that mouth, you’ll be lucky to get coal in your stocking.” He pulled Ian closer, angling his erection into the snug fit of Ian’s bottom, nestled between his cheeks. “I have to go away for a few days. I do favors for people sometimes. And this is something I have to do.” God. What he’d seen when he’d investigated DeSanta made him sick. The guy had a penchant for kids. Owen had made sure he wasn’t being set up into killing an innocent man and verified DeSanta’s disgusting habits using multiple sources. They all said the same thing.
Hell, if Caleb hadn’t asked him to step in, Owen would have paid him to take filth like this from the planet.
“Hey. What’s wrong?” Ian asked, sounding concerned.
Owen blinked into his eyes and lost himself. That bright blue invited him to share, to partake, and he did. He met Ian’s mouth, not sure if he’d pulled Ian closer or if Ian had lowered to kiss him.
And then they were loving each other’s mouths with tongue and lips and teeth. Instead of a frenzy, Owen let himself slip into Ian, enjoying the warmth of care and affection he wanted to exist between them.
Though on fire to have his thief again, more than passion inflamed him. He needed this, to feel some goodness in his life. Seeing the depravity in the world, and knowing he’d have to touch that again to extinguish such evil, made him sick. But what were his options? That he do nothing and allow a pedophile and rapist to continue to murder?
“What’s wrong?” Ian asked again, slanting kisses over his mouth to his jaw. “You good?”
“With you, yeah,” he rasped. And then he leaned his forehead against Ian’s.
“It’s okay,” Ian said softly, cupping his cheek and stroking his hair.
He remained with his eyes shut, absorbing the closeness he craved with this man, wishing it could be real and not something readying to end too soon. Kerr was the only thing keeping Ian here. Owen needed time to lure Ian into staying longer.
He took a deep breath and let it out, feeling stupid for a moment of weakness, sure Ian would capitalize on it somehow. But when he pulled back, he saw Ian staring at him with a sober expression that seemed somehow affectionate.
“You need to eat,” Ian said, mimicking his earlier tone.
Owen forced a laugh. “I am hungry.” He glanced at the clock on his nightstand. “No wonder.”
Ian nimbly jumped to his feet and glanced at the clock. “Well, let’s go. I think Tim said something about us eating around six.”
Owen stood and grimaced at the tightness in his crotch. “Your fault.”
Ian nodded. “I have that effect on most men. Not that I’m bragging or anything. Just stating a fact.”
Owen snorted. “Not that you’re bragging or anything.” He glanced around, wondering what Ian had had delivered. “Are you settled in?”
“I moved my pitifully few things into this room, yes.” Ian watched him.
“If you’re waiting for me to tell you to move out, think again. You’re here; you’re mine.”
“If you say so.”
Owen caught the relief Ian tried to hide.
“But look, I’m all about safe sex. So if you’re planning to blow Dalton—”
“Ian.”
“—anytime soon, you’ll have to get tested before we fool around again.”
“I told you, he and I are friends. Colleagues.”
“Oh? What business school did he attend? Snipers-R-Us University?”
“Come on.” Owen dragged Ian with him out of the room to the kitchen.
They ate with Joe while Reuben went on shift. Dolly, Bev, Tim, and Caleb joined them as well. Owen had talked it over with Caleb and decided that his people would be safer here, with the Knoxes, than off on their own, where Kerr would no doubt try to kidnap and torture them, slowly, to prove he could.
He’d also called in a few of Jack’s people to keep an extra eye on the place while he and Caleb went abroad. Best not to tempt fate and allow Kerr a golden opportunity to attack while Owen was otherwise occupied.
The thought had crossed his mind that this would be the perfect time for Kerr to strike. But Carl liked a personal touch. He wanted to be up front and close when he took Owen out—or tried to. Owen had studied his adversary for years. The sick fuck needed to be near the pain his men delivered, probably so he could feel anything. Owen had long harbored the idea that the Kerrs were missing something fundamental in their makeup. Compassion and love didn’t seem to register with them.
“Bev,” he said as he finished a stellar meal. “As usual, the chicken was excellent.”
“Why, thank you.” She blushed. “I love cooking. It’s like I was born to it.”
“No kidding.” Ian leaned back with a sigh. “I had three helpings. You’re amazing.”
“I wanted to tell you to keep up the good work while I’m gone,” Owen added. “I’ll be going out of town tomorrow and coming back in a few days. Friday latest. While I’m away, Ian will be here holding down the fort. I know Joe and Reuben have talked about the security risk.”
The ladies nodded. He’d been in situations before that threatened the welfare of his estate and those who lived on it, and they’d weathered previous storms. But none with Carl Kerr helming the ship.
“We’ll have extra protection on hand as well. Jack’s lending a few of his people to watch over the place.”
“Who’s he sending?” Ian asked.
“Joe has the rundown.”
Joe answered, “Avery Holton, Nathan Kraft, Aidan Marshall, and Kyle Cannon are lending a hand.”
“Cannon’s not one of ours, but he’s cute.”
Everyone looked at Ian, who shrugged. “Sue me. I’m human.” He turned to the women. “You’ll see.”
They laughed at him.
Joe continued, “Actually, we shouldn’t see him or the others. Their goal is to be invisible. We don’t want Kerr to know he’s been spotted.”
“Even though he knows we know?” Ian asked. “This is stupid.”
“So is dying,” Caleb growled. “So shut up and follow the program.”
Before Ian could throw a tizzy, Owen interrupted. “Right. Tim and Joe know how to contact me. Tim, you’re good?”
Tim nodded. He knew his major responsibility—keeping Ian safe, from himself if need be. The others would remain under Joe and Reuben’s watchful care.
“Anything you need, Bev, Dolly, you just let Reuben or Joe know. This business came up pretty suddenly, but after that, we just need to take care of the Kerr situation. I give it another two weeks, max.” By then Caleb would hopefully have gotten close enough to Kerr that Owen could nail the bastard. Screw a quick cardiac arrest. Owen planned to drag out the pain as long as he could. An aneurism wouldn’t work either. He’d rarely employed psychic torture, but he’d been dreaming about ending Carl for a while.
The question remained: just how much did Carl know about Owen? Because with psychic mercenaries growing in the field, Carl might have his own back-pocket weapon. And better to know before eighth hour struck. He looked at Joe. “Do your best to find out what we talked about, yes?”
Joe nodded.
Ian looked less than pleased at being excluded from things, but Owen didn’t want him sticking his neck out, especially not on Owen’s behalf.
He turned the conversation back to a recent slew of bad movies he’d heard about, and the meal ended with Bev’s famous apple pie and laughter.
Once everyone had separated for the night, Owen moved back to his room to pack up for his trip tomorrow. He figured they’d fly in Wednesday, lay everything out, set up on Thursday for the op, execute it, and fly back by Friday afternoon. That’s if everything went according to plan.
Ian followed him into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Then he trailed Owen into the closet.
“I know for a fact your living room is bigger than this,” Owen muttered as he grabbed two pairs of jeans and some underwear.
Ian crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame. The camera would love him. The shadows over his face only emphasized the mystery in the man, and Owen wanted nothing more than to plumb his hidden depths.
When he tried to move past Ian to dump his stuff on the bed, Ian blocked his way. Owen sighed. “What now?”
“When are you going to tell me what you’re doing? Why don’t I have your private number? All that crap earlier about me being yours?” Ian huffed. “In bed, yeah. I get that we’re fucking. But I think I’m entitled to a little information beyond what position you want me in.”
Owen raised a brow, pleased when Ian frowned. He loved when Ian reacted the way he’d predicted. It gave Owen hope he might not be so off the mark when it came to understanding his new lover. “So then what are we, Ian? Fuck buddies? Lovers? Is this casual for you?”
“Back at ya, play-ah,” Ian taunted. “You’re the love ’em and leave ’em type. How many heiresses and actors have you on their speed dial? Millionaire stud on call, will travel?”
Owen couldn’t help laughing.
“You think that’s funny?” Ian glared.
“That couldn’t be further from the truth. Come on. If I randomly had sex with so many, don’t you think the tabloids would plaster my name up in lights? I’ve dated occasionally, and I like sex. But I’m careful about who I’m with. You do remember Linda Cavendish, my ex who tried to kill me? I’ve learned to be more circumspect since her.”
Ian seemed only slightly mollified. “So who was your last date?”
“Before you?”
“Duh.”
Owen bit his lower lip. “Before you…hmm. Probably Janson.”
Ian blinked. “The supermodel?”
“Yeah.” A woman so beautiful she could rarely look away from her own reflection. Owen had been horny, tired, and wanting to connect. She’d been at the same party and surprisingly feeling the same. He actually liked her, but they’d both known after sleeping together that they had nothing but the sex in common. “She’s a nice girl.”
“Janson?” Ian’s voice rose in pitch. “She’s fucking gorgeous. You slept with her? She was on Vogue last month.” Ian gaped at him, then after a moment added, “Can you get me her autograph?”
“If you want.” Irritated because Ian didn’t seem jealous, just gaga over Janson, Owen tried to push past him.
Ian pushed back. “Hold it. When was this date with Janson, anyway?”
“Ian, I have to pack.”
“Answer the question.”
Owen fumed. “Six months ago. Happy?”
“You haven’t had sex in six months? Or do you consider dating a relationship and fucking something else?”
He wanted to pack, fly out, and do his thing fast. The sooner he put the nightmare of DeSanta behind him, the sooner he could deal with Kerr and get on with the rest of his life—that hopefully included Ian, even as annoying as he was. “Do we have to talk about this right now?”
“If you want a killer blowjob in the next five minutes, yes.”
And like that, Owen grew instantly hard. “You do that on purpose.”
Ian smirked. “Nice to know you want me, at least.”
“How can there be any doubt?”
“But there’s more to wanting than sex.” As he said it, Ian got the funniest look on his face.
“Um, yeah. You look confused. I am too. Explain just what you mean. I thought all this was casual to you.” Owen was delighted. “You want more? To be my boyfriend?”
“Maybe.”
“So defensive. No, baby. That’s okay.”
Ian frowned. “Don’t call me baby.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to be like every other Janson you’ve dated. Call me by name.”
“Ah.” Owen dropped his clothes and tugged Ian closer by the belt loop of his jeans. “Ian. My little thief.” He kissed Ian softly. “My sexy cocksucker.” He placed his hand over Ian’s and guided him to the bulge between his legs. “See what you do to me? All I have to think about is your mouth, or see something blue and think of your eyes, and I’m hard. I want to fill that tight ass again, thief. Or even better, those full lips.”
Ian groaned. “Man, you’re good at the love talk.”
Owen chuckled.
“So you’re not seeing anyone now?”
“Just you.”
“And you’re not involved with Dalton, that dick?”
Owen sighed. “No. I told you that. He and I are just friends.”
“Who share secrets you won’t tell me.” Ian pouted and, when Owen remained closemouthed, grumbled, “Fine, go do your thing. But while you’re away, what am I supposed to do?”
“Stay here with everyone and watch them for me.” Owen kissed Ian’s cheek and trailed his way to Ian’s ear. “Help Tim protect the people I care for.” He licked Ian’s lobe and shoved his tongue into Ian’s ear.
When his lover groaned, Owen ground against the hand still cupping his cock. “Oh yeah. That’s it, thief. Get me nice and hard. But while you’re doing that, I want you to come for me.” Owen unbuttoned and unzipped him. Then he reached inside Ian’s clothes and stroked his thickening shaft. “You’re a big boy, aren’t you?”
“And getting bigger,” Ian rasped. “I’m going to come if you keep doing that,” he warned.
“Good.”
“No, not yet.” Ian arched his throat when Owen kissed his way to his pulse.
He nipped Ian, marking him, and let go of the man’s cock to play with his nipples. The T-shirt was no barrier, and before Ian could think to protest, Owen whipped it off him. He lowered to suck the man’s nipples, loving the moans and pleas for release.
“So what are we, Ian? Will my boyfriend be waiting for me when I get back?” Owen whispered against his chest. He teethed Ian’s flesh.
“Jesus. Do that again.”
Owen did, and Ian melted against him. “How do you do that?” Ian breathed.
“Well? Can I spend some time with my boyfriend when I return? Sex, movies, maybe even talking, like we’ve been the past month? It’s not all about the sex, is it, thief?” He’d loved the time they spent together, testing one another, seeing how the other’s mind worked. Owen couldn’t get enough of Ian’s inquisitiveness. While it bothered Jack and the others, Owen liked having someone so intelligent and quick-witted to talk to and bounce ideas off. Plus, he truly found Ian funny.
He pinched Ian’s nipple and ground against his cock again, wanting to feel his lover explode.
“Yes, yes,” Ian hissed. “I’ll be your damn boyfriend if you kiss me again.”
“You’re easy.” Owen left Ian’s chest and hugged him tight, kissing him with all the desire and feeling inside him.
“That’s what…I’ve been…telling you.” Ian kissed him back with such fierceness Owen lost his mind.
His back was against the closet wall by the door and his pants around his thighs, Ian on his knees, when he next opened his eyes. “Ian?”
“Your thief. I’m going to steal some cum…Sir.”
Owen groaned and watched as Ian’s lips parted and enveloped the head of his cock. Ian kept those baby blue eyes on Owen’s the entire time he sucked and teased Owen toward climax.
“Fuck, Ian.” He moaned. “God, your mouth. Promise you’ll stay with Tim and the others while I’m gone. You have to be careful. Promise…”
Ian made a noise and sucked harder.
Owen clasped the back of his head, trying not to thrust deeper, but he couldn’t stop himself from jerking when Ian cupped his balls. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he blurted, unable to stop himself. “Shit. I’m coming, Ian. A lot of cum down your throat. Oh fuck.”
Ian drew him deeper, and then his tongue flickered against the underside of Owen’s cockhead while he rubbed Owen’s sac, and Owen lost it. He cried out and jetted into Ian’s mouth, clutching handfuls of silky black hair while he did so.
When he could breathe again, he blinked at Ian, who finished swallowing him down. Ian pulled back, and a drop of seed remained on his slick lips. Watching Ian lick it off sealed the man’s fate. No way in hell was Owen going to let him go. Beyond the sex, Owen saw the vulnerable glint Ian rarely allowed anyone to see. Ian didn’t want to be viewed as anything but a con man with attitude, but Owen wanted that Ian as much as he wanted the sexy thief. He wanted all of him.
“So it’s a deal, then,” Owen growled, in lust and climbing fast toward love with the younger man.
“Deal?” Ian rose to his feet, and Owen noted the impressive erection straining between his parted jeans.
Owen took him in his hands, captivated by the ruddy cock pearling at the tip. “You’re mine now. And I’m yours.”
Ian frowned. “Mine for now, you mean.”
Scared? An Ian who didn’t care wouldn’t need to put labels on them. “Exactly.” Owen grinned. For now, later, and tomorrow. He slowly knelt, keeping his gaze on Ian’s. Bright blue eyes widened at the sight.
Ian swallowed loudly.
“That’s right, lover. My turn.” Owen licked his lips, glad when Ian continued to look dumbfounded. “What? I can’t suck off my boyfriend? I mean, I don’t do this for just anyone. But since we’re a couple, this is okay. We don’t have to use condoms, since we’re together, and we’re exclusive.”
“No condoms.” Ian cleared his throat. “A little late to take that back, since you just came down my throat.”
“True.” Owen smiled. “And then last night and yesterday, when I left a mess inside that pretty ass. And those slick lips. Yum.” He stroked Ian’s cock, and Ian rocked into him as if unable to help himself. His slit was wet, the man’s balls rock hard.
“Quit teasing and suck me,” Ian groaned. He flushed, no doubt realizing how needy he sounded. “Uh, please.”
Owen chuckled and slid his hand around Ian’s ass. He squeezed, and Ian let out a breathy moan. Then he ran his fingers all over Ian’s groin. Such a beautiful cock. And so tasty… Owen leaned forward to lick the spot of cum from Ian’s slit and closed his mouth when Ian pressed forward, giving his lover a tight fit to fuck.
“Christ, Owen. I’m about to blow. Please, take me inside. I need it.”
“You need me,” Owen corrected him, needing to hear him say it.
“I do, you controlling bastard.” Ian moaned and stroked Owen’s hair. “I need you so bad.”
Owen took Ian to the back of his throat in one fell swoop. Ian cried out and pumped twice more before coming. That Ian couldn’t hold out made Owen feel like a king, one who’d mastered his lover’s pleasure, if not his heart. Not yet. After swallowing all Ian had to give, he pulled back and stared up at the most handsome man he’d ever laid eyes on. The ecstatic expression on Ian’s face drew him further along his obsessive need to capture Ian’s heart.
Then Ian smiled down at him before tugging Owen to his feet. A shy, satisfied expression that captured the essence of the man buried inside the cautious little forger. The kiss they shared was soft, sweet, and gratifying. When Owen pulled back to study his face, Ian’s smile left him, and they stared into each other’s eyes, not speaking.
Owen might not have his heart yet. But damn if he wasn’t getting closer.