You know why, you jealous bastard.
I flinched as the words tumbled through me. How the fuck could I be jealous?
Over a man.
It just wasn't possible. I wasn't into guys. Whatever physical reaction I was having to Dante had to be related to how much he pissed me off.
It just wasn't fucking possible!
"Magnus, it's green." It wasn't Dante's voice that broke through my fog of self-denial. No, it was the sensation that burned my skin where his hand was resting on my arm. Even with a layer of fabric between his skin and mine, I couldn't ignore the electricity that surged through me.
"What?" I asked dumbly as my eyes fixated on Dante's long, strong fingers. Would they feel good on my cock or too hard and rough?
"The light, it's green," he repeated and it wasn't until several car horns began blasting behind us that I realized I'd missed the stoplight changing. Hell, I didn't even remember stopping at the damn light.
"Sorry," I muttered, though I wasn't sure why I was apologizing to him.
I pulled my arm away from his hand and forced my eyes back to the road in front of me.
"You okay?" I heard him ask.
No.
"Yep," I said as casually as I could. I ignored him as I concentrated on the traffic around us and didn't speak again until I'd parked the car in the underground garage beneath the office building that served as Ranger headquarters. Before Dante could get out of the car I said, "You should stay here."
It wasn't a surprise when he muttered, "Not fucking happening, Pop-pop," but when he reached for the door handle, I grabbed his left bicep. I ignored the not entirely unpleasant sensation that traveled up the length of my arm.
"Are you carrying?" I asked.
I hadn't actually seen a gun on Dante, but I also knew he tended to favor carrying it at his back beneath his long jacket.
Dante jerked his head in a quick nod. I knew asking him to leave the weapon in the trunk of the car probably wouldn't get me anywhere so I merely said, "Keep it in your pants."
A smile flashed across his face. "You jealous, Pop-pop?"
For some reason the barb didn't irritate me, but I worked hard to keep from showing him that. It was that damn smile of his. And the fact that I actually preferred cocky Dante to agitated and unfocused Dante.
I released his arm and got out of the car. We began walking toward the elevator that would take us to the seventh floor when I heard someone yell, "Hey!"
I swung around to see a man jogging towards us, cowboy hat and holster in hand. Recognition dawned, but before I could say anything, Dante stepped in my path. He put his arm out as if to prevent me from trying to get around him and I saw his other hand reach up to search out the gun at his back.
"Stop right there," he said firmly as the man got within a few feet of us.
"Dante," I said quickly as I grabbed his hand before he could draw the gun out. I stepped around him enough to hide the fact that I was preventing him from going for his weapon. "This is Jeff. We work together."
The tension in Dante's body surprised me, as did the fact that his eyes remained glued on Jeff and he didn't back down at all except to remove his hand from his back. Despite my reassurance that I knew the man, Dante was still on alert and that fact did some funny shit to my insides.
Holy hell, what the fuck was wrong with me?
"Everything okay?" I heard Jeff ask, reminding me of his presence and I saw he was warily watching us both, his own hand tight on his holster.
"Yeah," I said quickly and then I moved past Dante and reached out to shake Jeff's hand. "Hey," I said as calmly as I could even though my mind was racing with how to explain away the heated moment.
"Hey," Jeff responded before finally relaxing and drawing me forward into a quick hug that I wasn't expecting. "Was starting to worry we'd lost you to the tree huggers," he said with a chuckle.
I forced out a laugh that I wasn't really feeling. "Liberals and tree huggers aren't quite the same thing," I said.
Jeff was a Texan through and through and had very few positive things to say about Northerners … or foreigners … or minorities. I'd never really liked the guy, but he'd been smart enough to keep his personal opinions to himself while he was on the job. I'd been privy to his bigotry early on when I'd gone out one night for drinks with him and a couple other of his like-minded friends and it had been the first and last time I'd socialized with the man. But the thought of what the asshole might say about the family of men who'd included me in their fold left me cold. I couldn't help but glance at Dante. While I knew he could stand on his own two feet if push came to shove, I didn't like the idea of anyone spewing that kind of filth at him. Especially now that I suspected his sexuality had been an issue at some point in his life and he hadn't walked away from the encounter unscathed.
"You guys heading in?" Jeff asked. His eyes settled on Dante as he spoke.
"Um, yeah. Jeff, this is Dante. Dante, Jeff Hastings."
Dante gave the man a nod, but he ignored the outstretched hand Jeff offered which made Jeff's jaw tighten up. As Dante scanned the rest of the parking area, Jeff coolly said, "Not sure where you come from, son, but around here we shake a man's hand when he's offering it."
I knew Jeff wasn't even ten years older than Dante, but his sneer along with the offensive way he spoke to Dante had me seeing red. But before I could even speak up, Dante stepped forward until he was mere inches from Jeff's face and drawled, "Where I come from, you shake a man's hand to make it easier to slip a knife between his ribs." Dante smiled coldly and stepped back just the tiniest bit. He stuck out his hand and said, "But hey, I'm game if you are." The smile dropped off his face as he added, "Sir," the disrespect practically dripping off his tongue.
I would have smiled myself if the air between the two men hadn't grown thick with tension. I stepped between them and used my body to force Dante to take a few steps back. Over my shoulder I said, "I'll see you inside, Jeff," but I never took my eyes off of Dante.
Once Jeff was out of hearing, I said, "Any chance you have a mute button?" I noticed that Dante's eyes would connect with mine only for a few seconds at a time before shifting back to the area around us.
Because he was still watching out for us … me.
"Yeah, but I don't think you'd like where it's located." His eyes landed on mine. "You know, with your aversion to all things dick."
I actually had to fist my hands to keep myself from reaching for the dick in question. I highly doubted the man remained silent while getting off. I couldn't help but wonder at all the sounds that would fall from his beautiful lips as I explored him.
Fuck, I needed to get a grip.
I forced myself to step back and bit out, "Let's go," and pushed past him towards the elevator. Thank God I'd worn jeans today instead of the normal khakis I'd always worn as part of the uniform. Though, if I'd stood there any longer with the heat rolling off of Dante's body and the sounds of his pleasure shooting through my brain, it wouldn't have mattered what kind of pants I'd been wearing because nothing short of a suit of armor would have kept my cock in check.
As we made our way up to the office, a few people who'd been pegged to work on the New Year's holiday began recognizing me and extending their greetings. I kept one eye on Dante the entire time, expecting him to react like he had in the parking garage, but he kept it cool and was surprisingly polite when I introduced him to those who seemed curious about him, though I did leave out the bodyguard part. He remained on alert the entire time and I began noticing that he only tensed up around certain people. Curiously, they were the same people I'd always had an off feeling about … the kind of people you just instinctually knew not to spend a lot of time interacting with.
And that was when I remembered the common theme I'd heard about Dante besides his need to fuck anything with two legs and a pulse.
Kid's got great instincts …
I'd clearly been wrong on that front because Dante was damn good at sensing things about others.
But all that realization did was make me wonder what exactly Dante sensed about me that maybe I didn't.
Fuck, this was bad.
Chapter Five
Dante
I'd never been around so many cops in my entire fucking life, not that there were even that many considering it was a holiday. And of course, the men and women walking past me looked nothing like any cops I'd ever seen. The lightly colored khaki pants were okay, I figured, but it was the damn hats that were throwing me. Big ass cowboy hats that I would have expected to see in some western flick, not on the top of the head of every badge-wearing, gun-toting person around me. And if the hats weren't on their head, they were carefully placed on pegs along the wall or hangers next to desks. Hell, I wondered if these guys cared more for their hats than their guns. And then there were the boots. Yep, boots … cowboy boots. In every texture imaginable and all spiffed up and shiny. I was half expecting a line dance to break out at any moment.
But that thought was quickly followed by the realization that Magnus had probably dressed like this when he'd been on the job. I swallowed hard as my cock jumped at the thought of Magnus in one of the ridiculous hats and spiffy boots. Somehow I knew Magnus could pull the look off, even if those were the only articles of clothing he was wearing.