Page 22 of Code Violation

“Fine,” Forrest huffed. “I am often an asshole, but not always. I have good points that offset the asshole part.”

Rolling his eyes, Vik let out an exasperated sigh to rival Lani’s best, opened his front door, and said, “Just… I’m cold. Get inside already.”

Inside, Forrest was at a loss for words. The place was smaller than he remembered, or maybe he was older, larger. The last time he’d been in one of the resort cabins was years ago with Xavier, and, like usual, they’d been up to no good. Also, he didn’t want to talk. Not with words anyway.

This is a Very Bad Idea. He cock throbbed, proving that at least one part of his body thought this was a Great Idea.

“Can I take your coat?” Vik asked with a politeness that Forrest was certain he didn’t feel.

Forrest didn’t deserve politeness, and he wasn’t sure where his coat would go in the cramped room anyway. Vik pointed to three hooks fixed on the back of the door. Silently, Forrest shrugged out of his waterproof duster, hung it up, and turned to face his de facto host.

Vik’s dark eyes still revealed nothing. “Want something to drink? No beer, just whisky. I also don’t have anything to eat. I was planning on going out.”

Forrest noted that behind Vik was a micro-size kitchen and on the counter sat a bottle of Angel’s Envy.

“Whisky’s good. Thanks.”

“You can sit on the bed or stand, whichever you want.”

Vik left Forrest where he was and moved into the kitchen. Forrest ogled his ass for a brief second before reminding himself not to be a creep. Opening up a cupboard, Vik lifted out two small glasses and set them on the counter, then proceeded to fill them halfway with the golden liquid.

The single small table was holding up a laptop and several stacks of spiral-bound notebooks. It looked cramped and Forrest’s back gave a sympathetic twinge.

“Here,” Vik said, holding out one of the tumblers.

Their fingertips brushed against each other when Forrest accepted his drink and sparks of pure lightning-fed lust shot up his arm. Forrest glanced at Vik again and was rewarded by the flare of heat in Vik’s gaze.

This bad idea was getting worse by the second. Or better if his dick had anything to say about it.

And yet here he was anyway. Alone with Nero Vik. Rufus’s words from earlier played in his head. Was he too chicken to start something? Yes.

But also no. Vik was safe; he wouldn’t be sticking around, so Forrest wouldn’t have to deal with any stupid emotional ties and expectations. Forrest sipped the whisky, savoring the taste of it on his tongue and its heat as it flowed down his throat.

“For godsakes, sit down. You can take the bed. I promise I don’t bite.”

What if I want you to bite?

“I shouldn’t have come,” Forrest managed to say over the twitching of his cock. “But Ned Barker was a friend of mine.”

“Oh.” Remorse and pity filled Vik’s gaze. “I’m sorry for your loss. Finding him—that’s not something I would wish on anyone.”

“And yet you talk about brutal murders all the time.”

“Well, yeah, but usually long after the fact.” Vik pressed his lips together. “Look, if you’re not sitting, I am. After the day I’ve had, I deserve some whisky.” He proceeded to sit down, leaving plenty of space on the bed for Forrest. “See, I am a nice guy.” He patted the covers.

With a sense of inevitability, Forrest lowered himself down next to Vik. The quivery feeling of anticipation he’d always gotten when accepting a dare ran up his spine. He took another sip of the drink, then awkwardly held the glass in his lap with both hands wrapped around it.

Smooth, Forrest, smooth.

“This place is really small.”

Vik acted like he hadn’t just pointed out the obvious.

“It is. But at least my stuff is safe from the elements. Although I think someone broke in last night. I don’t suppose it was you?”

Forrest decided not to take offense. “Nope, I was at home. You’re not sure you shut your door?”

““I locked it, but the knob is old, so maybe I didn’t pull it shut tight enough and the wind blew it open? Not sure. But I suppose the fact that someone rummaged through my things means there really was a break-in. I was just kind of hoping otherwise. And, no, I didn’t report it.”

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