Page 83 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

“Lane,” he groaned.

Before he could say anything else his watch vibrated.

He ignored it for one, two seconds, before it vibrated again.

“Damn it,” he muttered against Xander’s jaw.

Xander let out a breathy laugh.

He kept one hand cupping the back of Xander’s neck while he lifted his wrist and glanced at the screen.

Bring Starlight up. Business to discuss.

Cassidy stared at the message, his mouth still close enough to Xander’s skin to feel his pulse beginning to slow.

He released a long exhale, before pulling back enough to stare into his eyes.

“We have to go upstairs.”

Xander blinked. “Now?”

“Yeah, God wants us.”

“Oh, okay.”

He brushed his thumb over Xander’s cheek.

Fuck. Why is it so hard to stop touching you?

Cassidy glanced down at himself, at the sweat drying on his chest and his cock still tenting his shorts. “I need to take a really cold shower first.”

Xander lowered his gaze as a deeper color rushed up his neck.

He leaned in, caught Xander’s lower lip between his teeth, and gave it a gentle bite before letting go. “Stay put. I won’t be long.”

Xander swallowed then gave an obedient dip of his chin that only made the situation in Cassidy’s shorts worse.

Cassidy walked towards his room, not allowing himself to look back.

Cassidy

“Easy,” Green told him. “He has fans. If he’s really in distress, he’ll let you know.”

Cassidy winced.

The new comms device Free had fitted him with was going to take some getting used to.

It wasn’t a standard earpiece. It didn’t have a plastic bud or a coiled tube that wound beneath his collar.

Free had molded some kind of transparent silicone, embedded with micro-wiring, into the inner fold of his ear.

He’d called it the Hart Communicator—inspired after his SWAT boyfriend.

The mechanism had so many ridiculous features he’d stopped trying to understand what the hell Free was talking about after two minutes. Conductive polymers, adaptive frequencies, and whatever other technical shit he’d rattled off, until Cassidy rumbled. “Just put the damn thing on.”

The nearly invisible device made Green sound as if he were two inches away instead of twenty yards across the ritzy restaurant in the middle of the lunch rush in West Hollywood.

Cassidy was planted a few feet from Xander’s table, close enough to cross the distance in three or four steps, but far enough to avoid breathing down his neck.