Page 57 of Trigger

Dominic“The Trigger” Carter isn’t the type of guy who would dance with a man hedislikes. In fact, he wouldn’t dance with a man, period.

Andyou have known him for what… five minutes? Besides, he’s just being friendly.

Friendly.That was the word I should focus on. Friendly. My body didn’t get the memo,though, so I pressed my palm against my hardening dick, stifling a groan. Whatthe hell was he doing up?Get the fuck down, erection!

Itwouldn’t listen to me, though. It kept swelling, growing,demanding thingsas I suffered through it, feeling desperate. Jerking off was out of thequestion, but what then? Jogging around the place? I was too dizzy. Push-ups? Iwas too weak from this goddamn… want. Hitting a bar and finding someone tofuck? Everything in me rejected the idea. Fucking Carter, though… God, I wouldsell my soul to get into that ass right now.

No,don’t think about that.

Whowould even be the one doing the fucking? Him? Me? Even if he wasn’t straight,which he was, he seemed like a top to me. I was one too, but I would gladlytake him balls-deep inside me if that were his preference.

God,when did it happen? When did I start to feel so much? Was it the first time Iwoke up with him in my arms? Or while we lay next to each other in that bunker,wondering if we would ever see the light of day? Or when I first looked intothose jungle green eyes and found myself at a loss for words.

Ireached for my pants, remembering that I left a pack of gum in my pocket, onlyto realize that those weren’t my pants. They were Carter’s. And the thing Ipulled out of the pocket wasn’t gum but the hair tie I thought I’d lost.

Whatthe fuck? What was my hair tie doing in his pocket? So, he found it? Kept it?Why? Why wouldn’t he just return it to me?

Fuck.

Istood up abruptly. A plan was forming in my head, a plan that would land me introuble—because I decided to kiss him. After that, I expected to end up in theER, nursing a broken nose, but it was a price I was ready to pay. I was mullingit over when I heard a loud crash coming from the bathroom. I rushed inside,only to find Carter leaning over the sink and collecting the pieces of brokenglass.

“Sorryif I alarmed you. The glass slipped from my fingers.”

Islapped my forehead. “God, I’m such an idiot. I forgot.”

“Me,too,” he murmured, taking the Band-Aid out of the box.

“Whenwere you supposed to change it?”

“Thismorning.”

Icursed under my breath and walked up to him.

“Letme clean the wound first. Sit down.”

He saton the tub and closed his eyes as I moved the candle closer, straining to seein the dimly lit room.

“To behonest, I find it difficult to sleep lately,” I admitted. “Ever since thebunker… I can’t stand the fucking dark.”

“Meneither,” he murmured. “The rain, too. I hate it. It reminds me of that damn dripping.”

Iglanced at the window where the raindrops were hitting the glass like bullets.I didn’t even notice when it started raining. It was one of those summer stormsthat would come and go without warning, leaving behind humidity, stickiness,and despair.

AfterI changed the Band-Aid, I brushed away a strand of hair from his forehead,allowing myself that little bit of intimacy.

“Thereyou go. As pretty as ever.”

“Gee, thanks,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Let’s gooutside. I need some fresh air. And grab that tequila, will you?”

Right.Tequila. It was a good idea, since in the meantime I gave up on my plan to kisshim because I was a fucking coward.I followed Carter into hisbedroom, only to find him on the balcony enveloped in darkness. He was sittingon the floor with his back against the railing next to a few flowerpots thatlooked miserable.

“Vicbrought them,” he said, following my gaze. “I don’t know how to take care ofthem.”

“Orchidsare temperamental,” I said, looking at them fleetingly. “Mamanused togrow them in the backyard when I was a child. I’ll bring fertilizer tomorrow.It might help.”

Thunderroared above us as I reached for the framed photo on the nightstand. Themoonlight penetrating the room was faint, but I could see Carter in the photoand another man with him. They were both wearing police uniforms.

“Wasthis your partner?” I asked him.

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