Page 19 of More than Need

Riley opened the door. “Quinn?”

Gideon waved from his spot with a grin before going back to his task. He couldn’t find any gum. He checked the top of the drawer for some kind of latch for a hidden section.

“You have a visitor,” Quinn said. “Nedrie said you were dealing with him yesterday. A Dawson Sheppard?” Underlying questions in his tone said he wanted more details than that. Gideon followed Riley’s lead and said nothing.

Riley shook his head with an exhaled breath. “Christ. Send him in here; I’ll speak to him.”

“Alright.” Quinn glanced at Gideon again before turning around and leaving.

If he suspected something, he’d say something, wouldn’t he? “There’s no gum in here,” Gideon said. “Not much of anything in here, in fact.” Black notepads. Some packets of pens. All black. Sticky tape. Some white-out rolls. A Bakers Delight reward card with zero stamps on it, and an empty NSWPD drink bottle they handed out at every yearly conference they were all forced to attend. “Why do you have to tease me like that?” Now he wanted gum. If only to distract himself from the curve of Riley’s ass, and how much he wanted them to continue where they’d left off. Where would they be if Quinn hadn’t interrupted? How far would Riley have gone?

“How’s your dick?” Riley asked bluntly.

Oh. Right.

Gideon stood and dusted his pants off. “Clever.” One way to hide it from Quinn. He closed the drawer with his foot. “Please tell me that’s not your junk drawer, because that’s pathetic.”

“I shudder to think what might be in yours.”

“You’re welcome to look.” He gravitated towards Riley, unable to help himself. He playfully tugged the sides of Riley’s jacket. “You want to look at my junk… drawer?” he asked suggestively.

“Not if that’s how you refer to it.”

An obvious lie. The heat in Riley’s blue eyes told a different story. Gideon wasn’t the only one affected here, and the very idea thatRiley Sinclairwanted him made Gideon feel drunk. Hell, alcohol had nothing on how Riley was looking at him.

“I want you to kiss me again.” “Want” wasn’t a strong enough word for it. Need. Desperation. Necessity.

Riley’s nostrils flared, and he clasped Gideon’s nape as he leaned down.

The door flung open just as their lips were about to touch. Gideon tripped, flailing backwards in his haste to step away and create distance. Riley steadied him, bringing them back into contact with each other, Gideon unbalancing the other way and falling into him. Very smooth and not suspicious at all.

Dawson and Quinn stood in the doorway. Something flickered in Quinn’s gaze before he gestured at Dawson. “Your guest. Would you like refreshments with that, sir?”

“What I’d like is an update on the Hallis murder. Grady said you were following up a lead?”

“Leaving in ten. I’ll let you know how it goes.” Quinn closed the door behind himself, trapping them inside.

“Am I interrupting something?” Dawson asked. He looked like he needed another twelve hours of sleep. And some electrolytes if the dim lights of Riley’s office were making him wince like that.

“Sit down.”

“How’s your head?” Gideon asked pleasantly, sliding into the chair beside him.

“Like beating drums against my skull,” Dawson said dryly.

“Have you eaten?” Riley buttoned the middle of his jacket and sat behind his desk. His impassive stare indicated that he expected an answer. Gideon had seen that one a lot over the years. He’d even complied a couple of times.

“I had coffee,” Dawson said, confusion flickering as he looked at Gideon, who shrugged. He had no idea where this line of enquiry led.

“That’s it?”

“It’s been a busy morning. I didn’t come here to talk about my bad decisions. I mean, okay, I did, but not like… not that one…” Dawson finished weakly. He winced and rubbed his forehead. “I came to apologise for last night. I shouldn’t have come at you like that.”

Riley waited, and Gideon chewed on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying anything.

“This is where you chime in,” Dawson said, both eyebrows raising in anticipation.

“With what?”

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