Lover At Last(7)

And he’d thought being rejected by Qhuinn was bad?

Watching the guy have a young with a female—

Shoot, he needed to respond to his lover, didn’t he. “Yes, absolutely. I’ll see you then.”

There was a hesitation, and then Saxton came over and pressed a kiss to Blay’s lips. “You’re off rotation tonight?”

Blay nodded, holding the cigarette out of the way so the male’s beautiful clothes didn’t get burned. “I was going to read the New Yorker and maybe start From the Terrace.”

Saxton smiled, clearly appreciating the appeal of both. “How I envy you. After I’m finished, I’m going to take a few nights off and just relax.”

“Maybe we could go somewhere.”

“Maybe we could.”

The tight expression on that lovely face was quick and sad. Because Saxton knew that they weren’t going anywhere.

And not just because a Sandals all-inclusive was so not in their future.

“Be well,” Saxton said, brushing his knuckle down Blay’s cheek.

Blay nuzzled that hand. “You, too.”

A moment later the door opened and shut…and he was alone. Sitting on the messy bed, in the silence that seemed to crush him from all sides, he smoked his cigarette down to the filter, screwed it out in the ashtray, lit another.

Closing his eyes, he tried to remember the sound of Saxton moaning or the sight of the male’s back arching or the feel of skin on skin.

He could not.

And that was the root of the problem, wasn’t it.



“Let me get this straight,” V drawled over the cell phone connection. “You lost your Hummer.”

Qhuinn wanted to put his head through a plate-glass window. “Yeah. I did. So could you please—”

“How do you lose eight thousand pounds of vehicle?”

“That’s not important—”

“Well, actually, it is if you want me to access the GPS and tell you where to find the damn thing—which is why you’re calling, true? Or do you just think confession without detail is good for the soul or some shit.”

Qhuinn gripped his phone hard. “Ileftthekeysinit.”

“I’m sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

Bullshit. “I left the keys in it.”

“That was a dumb-ass move, son.”

No. Fucking. Kidding. “So can you help me—”

“Just e-mailed you the link. One thing—when you recover the vehicle?”

“Yeah?”

“Check to see if the jackers took a moment to put the seat forward—you know, get comfortable and shit. Because they probably weren’t in a rush, what with having the keys.” The sound of Vishous’s yukking it up was like getting paddled in the nuts with a car fender. “Listen, I gotta go. I need both hands to hold my gut as I laugh my ass off attcha. Later.”

As the call went dead, Qhuinn took a moment to rein in the desire to throw the phone.

Yeah, ’cuz losing that, too, was going to really help the situation.

Going into his Hotmail account, and wondering just how long it was going to take to live this one down, he got a bead on his frickin’ car.

“It’s heading west.” He tilted the phone so John could see. “Let’s do this.”

Dematerializing, Qhuinn was dimly aware that the level of his rage was disproportionate to the problem: As his molecules scattered, he was a lit fuse waiting to connect with some dynamite—and it wasn’t just about him being a dumb-ass, or the missing car, or the fact that he was looking like an idiot to one of the males he respected most in the Brotherhood.

There was so much other shit.

Taking form on a rural road, he checked his phone again and waited for John to show up. When the fighter did, he recalibrated and they went farther west, closing in, cross-referencing the direction…until Qhuinn ghosted onto the precise strip of ice-covered asphalt his fucking Hummer was on.

About a hundred yards ahead of the vehicle.

Whatever SOB was behind the wheel was going sixty miles an hour in the snow, heading for a curve. What a…

Well, calling them stupid was exactly the kind of kettle-black thing the night had devolved into.

Let me shoot the wheels, John signed, like he knew a gun in Qhuinn’s hand was not the best idea.

Before the guy could up-and-out his forty, though, Qhuinn dematerialized…right onto the hood of the SUV.

He landed face-first into the windshield, his ass getting hit with the kind of breeze that turned him into a bug on all that glass. And then it was a case of oh-heeey-gurl-heeeey: Thanks to the glow from the dashboard, he caught the OMG! on the faces of the pair of guys in the front seat…and then his bright idea turned into goat fuck number two of the evening.