Page 15 of Exposing Adonis

“I’ll bring your brother back.” He took a hand and placed it over mine, which covered his heart. “I swear my life on it.”

He fiddled with the blue Rolex from his wrist, unfastening it. He clasped my hand, and put the huge watch around my wrist. It was so large that it dangled, face down. He laughed, and slid it up to my elbow until it rested on my bicep. “Hold onto this for me, will you?”

He ran his fingers through my hair, pushing it back from my face. He cupped my jaw, then smiled and gave me a kiss. Slow, and kind.

“What is this?” I asked, twisting to look down on the watch’s face and read the engraving out loud. “Levavi Oculus.”

“I lift my eyes,” he translated for me. His fingers ran over the back of my hand as I inspected the jagged, perfect Rolex watch that probably cost more than my car. “The motto of my old boarding school. It’s a bit of a tradition. The graduating class goes to Geneva and buys a customized watch. It’s our version of a class ring.”

“Swanky.” I said sarcastically. I never bought a class ring because I decided it was too expensive and not worth the money. His class bought watches that were worth the downpayment on a house. The rich really were a different fucking species.

“I want you,” he said, forcing my eyes to meet his again. “I’m thirty-seven years old. I don’t want to waste any more of my years. So will you wait for me? To talk?”

“You talk a lot.” I echoed words that I had told him at the bar, and couldn’t help but smile. “Did you think I was going to go out and date someone else while you were away?” I tried to lighten the mood, but he didn’t laugh.

“If you do, they’re a dead man.”

“So possessive,” I teased. His fingers in my hair tightened, balling my strands into his fist and pulling on my scalp.

“You’ll pay for your cheek,” he threatened. But it was a promise. A promise of sensual agony that made my toes curl.

His lips crashed into mine and I moaned against him, deepening our kiss as our tongues battled. Our arms encircled each other, pulling and grasping. Minutes passed in this passionate embrace. He pushed me over the table, and I complied, molding myself into his hands until my back lay flat against the map.

My legs wrapped around him, my thighs shaking in anticipation.

He ran his hand through his red hair, pulling at his scalp and moaning, “We don’t have time.”

He paced away from me before coming right back, his fingers tracing the uncovered skin between my shirt and my jeans.

“I won’t take you here where the others can see, but,” he placed one hand on the button of my jeans and flipped it open. “Just one taste, yeah? Just one.”

His hand slid into my jeans, his finger searching for my folds. He slipped one finger into my wet, waiting heat and he groaned like he was in agony.

He pulled out his moistened finger and brought it to his mouth, tasting it like it was the sweetest honey he’d ever had. He brutally cupped my jaw in his hand and leaned down to kiss me. The taste of my arousal was still on his tongue. His fingers interlaced with mine as he pinned me to the map.

When he pried himself away, he looked down at me with hungry eyes. “This is the only topography that interests me right now.”

His lips came down to my breast, biting me through my shirt and bra. I whimpered. He groaned, pushing himself upright, taking me with him until my head was against his chest, one ear over his heart.

“Please,” I whispered against his mouth. I halted, my voice failing me.

“Yes?” He asked, urging me on. “Please what?”

“Come back to me.”

Chapter 7

Callum

Somewhere over Kemet, Ungoverned

ThesoundoftheLockheed L-100 Hercules permeated past my helmet and ear protection and headphones, and shook me down to the bones. It was the civilian equivalent of a C-130, barreling like a flying mammoth through the sky. The cabin wasn’t pressurized. We sat on canvas, fold-out seats, facing one another with black and gray oxygen masks covering our nose and mouth.

I yawned loudly, like a lion roaring on a rock, stretching my booted feet out in front of me. I adjusted my shoulder, ready to fall asleep against the parachute container, until I heard the rhythmic squeaking of a rapidly moving foot.

Leo’s knee bounced in the red overhead light. The hum of the Hercules was deafening, only blocked out by the headphones I wore under the lip of my helmet. But still, I heard that strange squeaking of his foot. He was staring at his hands, his eyes focused on some spot on the floor in front of him.

“You alright?” I asked him, raising a brow that he couldn’t see under the visor of my full-face covering. He could hear me, though, through the large padded headphones over his ears.

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