*
If you want a future with him, you have to trust him with your secrets.
Familiar adrenaline that normally served to save Garrick’s life by signaling it was time to run for safety suddenly coursed through his veins, making him jittery. For the first time in his life, he refused to heed the warning mechanism that had saved his ass more than once.
Garrick looked down again, needing a minute to get his shit together. The sheen of dried cum still stuck to Devlin’s belly caught Garrick’s attention and tugged a response in his balls. Christ, it doesn’t take much with this man.
“Garrick?” Devlin’s prompt yanked Garrick back to reality. And to the fact that he still didn’t know where to begin with his history.
“Excuse me.” Garrick moved Devlin a step to the left. As he busied himself turning on the water and wetting down a new washcloth, he closed his eyes and relived what it had felt like to spill himself inside Devlin’s body--a first for him. He bit down a moan as he wondered what it would feel like to bend himself over the sink and let Devlin do the same to him. His ass throbbed for it, and he half reached back to spread himself and beg for it when he whipped his hand back to the sink.
Pull yourself together and start talking or he’s going to walk. “Here.” Garrick thrust the new washcloth at Devlin’s stomach. “The water on that other one is probably cold by now.” He grabbed the first out of Devlin’s hand. “You clean up, and I’ll unfold the bed.” While I figure out what I’m supposed to say.
Garrick left Devlin standing in the bathroom and made a beeline for the couch. He’d already pulled the coffee table aside hours ago but hadn’t been motivated to unfold the bed. He did so now, tossing aside cushions and fluffing up the two pillows, and then taking care to fold back the thin plaid blanket and white sheet. By the time he finished doing that, he’d listened to Devlin take a piss, flush the toilet, and the water turn on and off again. Garrick crawled into bed and folded an arm under his head just as the bathroom light went out, throwing the room into deeper shadows again.
He held his breath, almost as if he’d never had a man in a room with him before, and didn’t exhale until Devlin exited the bathroom and walked toward the bed. Garrick watched Devlin and openly admired the fluid grace of movement and the beautiful lines of his fit, naked body.
Don’t try to finesse him, Langley. If you do, this time you’ll lose him for good.
Devlin climbed onto the foldout bed, but rather than taking the second pillow, he stretched himself perpendicular to Garrick and used Garrick’s stomach for a pillow. He looked up at the ceiling and said softly, “Just start somewhere, Garrick.” He reached out and pulled Garrick’s arm across his stomach, then twined their fingers together in a hold, so gentle, yet sure, it burned tears behind Garrick’s eyes. “It’s going to feel like an impossible task until you do.”
Garrick let out a shaky breath. “Okay, well, I was living in Oakland when we met. That wasn’t a lie. I was involved with gangs too, just not the kind you were probably thinking. And when I used the term ‘worked with them’ I let you think I was a counselor of sorts for at-risk gang kids when actually I was undercover in one.” Garrick fiddled with Devlin’s fingers and focused on controlling his breathing. “I’d infiltrated a biker gang--a club is what it’s called. I was in for two years, living a completely fabricated life under a different name, gathering evidence of the many criminal enterprises this new club controlled. We had just brought them down the week before I met you in San Francisco. The weekend we met was my thank you from the CBI; a brief gift of freedom where I could relax and let go of the facade I’d been living with for two years before I had to get back to work.”
Devlin shifted to his side and looked up at Garrick. “That’s why you were so frantic that first time we were together.” Understanding lit his pale eyes. “You weren’t able to be with a man while you were undercover.”
“No, I wasn’t.” Garrick grimaced, and automatically rubbed a protective hand over his balls. “You are not gay in a biker club, open or otherwise. Not unless you want to get killed.”
“So the tattoos and the shaved head and the extra muscle mass were all part of the undercover work?”
“Yeah.”
A furrow pulled between Devlin’s brows. “But those tattoos were real. I licked them; I took showers with you.” He reached up and ran his fingers down the side of Garrick’s face to his shoulder. “And now I don’t see or feel a trace of them on you anywhere.”
“The CBI tapped the assistance of some scientists and doctors who are experimenting with new tattoo ink technology,” Garrick explained. “They were real tattoos. Before I agreed to have them put on, I talked to the creators, and they believed that I would have success in fully removing them with lasers once the gig was finished. It wasn’t one hundred percent guaranteed--they’d never done anything that big--but I felt good enough about the data they showed me to risk it.”
“Wow.” Devlin sat up next to Garrick. He studied the invisible line the previously tattooed side of Garrick’s body had taken, and he trailed his fingers right behind. “You put a lot
