Eddie remembered one incident all too well. He’d spent the day at Holly’s place—Ricky’s ex-girlfriend—because he’d been out too late and missed sunrise. When he’d returned home, Thomas had stood in the living room, clad only in a towel, talking to Gabriel, who’d needed help with guarding the woman who would later become his mate.
Thomas’s skin had glistened with water from his recent shower, and when he’d stretched his arms over his head in what seemed like a casual gesture, Eddie had admired the defined muscles of his stomach and torso. And it had stirred something in him, something he’d dismissed instantly. Had Thomas tried to tempt him even then? Had he purposefully shown off his magnificent body because he got off on being looked at?
What about the many times that he’d seen Thomas walk to the refrigerator, dressed in his boxers, his bathrobe open in the front? Had Thomas behaved like that because it was his home, or because he wanted Eddie to look at him?
What would he do now? How could he go on living with Thomas, knowing what he knew?
Every time he looked at his mentor from now on, it would be with the knowledge that Thomas had the hots for him, that Thomas wanted to strip him naked, touch him, kiss him, and make love to him.
“There, see, I knew it would be working,” a female voice pulled him from his thoughts and brought him back to the present.
Eddie opened his eyes and stared down at Jessica. She’d opened his zipper and pulled out his cock—his fully erect cock—and was now wrapping her hand around him. He was as hard as an iron rod, but he knew it wasn’t right, because he hadn’t gotten hard for her. He’d gotten hard while thinking of Thomas. While thinking of a man.
Disgusted with himself, he gripped her hand and yanked it off him. “I can’t do this.”
“Of course you can,” she purred and rubbed her naked breasts against him, an action that left him entirely unaffected when he should have dropped his head and sucked those hard nipples into his mouth.
Why wasn’t he doing what she wanted him to do? Why wasn’t he fucking her? At least then he could prove to himself that there was nothing wrong with him, that he was still the same person he’d always been: a straight man who desired women.
Jessica slid her hands onto his ass, drawing him closer. “Come on, Eddie, I know you want it.”
Yes, he wanted it, but not with her. He was as horny as he’d ever been, but he knew instinctively that his dick would wilt like a dried-up flower if he tried to have sex with Jessica.
And he wasn’t going to add that kind of humiliation to his already-battered psyche.
No, he had to push all this away, pretend none of this had ever happened and go on as usual.
He’d done so the last few weeks, he could continue the same way—by avoiding being alone with Thomas as much as he could, and by trying to forget what he’d overheard.
Maybe Oliver and Blake were wrong after all. Maybe they were only imagining things. What did they know about Thomas anyway? They weren’t the ones living with him. They weren’t spending any time outside of work with him. And even at work, they barely saw him, since Thomas rarely did any fieldwork and was working on IT projects most of the time, while Oliver and Blake were out patrolling or protecting clients.
Eddie stared into Jessica’s eyes. “Listen carefully,” he started, then sent his thoughts into her mind, erasing every memory she had of him.
If they met again, she would never know what had happened between them. Nobody would ever know that he hadn’t been able to perform—nobody but himself. And he could always lie to himself and pretend everything was all right.
2
Thomas clicked the remote for the garage door from fifty yards away and saw the gate rise.
Only slightly slowing his motorcycle, he drove inside, killing the engine as he came to a stop in his oversized garage that housed not only several motorcycles but also a large blackout SUV. He rarely used it, preferring to ride his bikes instead. Feeling the engine of his motorcycle hum between his legs and the wind blow through his short blond hair gave him a sense of freedom, a sense of a life without constraints. Even if it was all an illusion, because he was neither free, nor living without constraints.
He was content with what he had achieved—not happy, but then who was ever truly happy with their circumstances? He shook his head at his thoughts and dismounted from his Ducati.
He’d spent most of the night in his office in Scanguards’ headquarters in the Mission district and barely talked to anybody all night. Now he looked forward to a cold bottle of blood and to exchanging a few words with Eddie before he turned in and went to sleep.