Full Disclosure (7 page)

At least that's what he told the ache in the center of his chest. That ache disappeared when he sat up, saw Jarrod's jacket and shoes still lying haphazardly on the floor.

Oh. Oh, he was still here!

Samuel grabbed a robe and wrapped it around himself. There was coffee and bacon and he could have danishes delivered from that little place on the corner, even if it was Saturday...

He heard typing, then a frustrated sigh. "Look, man. I'm not finding what you're looking for. I've been on every computer, his iPad, his phone. Hell, I went through his personal file cabinet this morning."

Samuel stood there, right outside the door of his home office, and swayed like he'd been punched.

"Damn it, I'm telling you--there's nothing to find except the letter from the probate lawyer letting him know he was inheriting a wad of money from his grandfather's estate... I know that... No... It doesn't matter. He's not your guy."

Okay.

Okay.

He crept back to his room and dressed with numb fingers. Idiot. He was an idiot. He'd jeopardized his entire life--career, home, his clients--for a perverse need. He'd let Jerrod in and...the man was sent to spy on him.

Samuel slipped on his socks, his shoes, a thick sweater. When he felt protected enough, he gathered Jarrod's clothes up and headed for the office.

Business the first--get the man out of his house. Business the second--change all his passwords. Business the third... Well, he'd have to figure that out.

Jarrod was still talking as he got to his office, though it sounded more like he was muttering to himself than on the phone now. "Assholes...stupid idiots...listen to me."

He heard his computer power down, the sound of a drawer opening or closing.

He stepped in the office, put the rest of Jarrod's clothes down. "If there's a file you need, you can always ask Jeannie. She had full access."

Jarrod froze with his hand on a half-closed drawer. Then he closed it and turned slowly.

"Here are your clothes. If you're not out in five, I'm calling security." Samuel turned and headed for the kitchen for his phone and a Red Bull.

"Wait up, Sammy. This isn't what it looks like." Jarrod grabbed his arm just before he hit the kitchen. "You're making assumptions here."

"Four minutes. I suggest you dress while you explain." He was a fool.

Jarrod shook his head. "You were under investigation--I was proving that it wasn't you. I just saved your ass."

"That's why you were here. Was it the firm that paid you?" God, he was never going back there. Never.

"That's why we met, but that's not why I'm here. What we have has nothing to do with the investigation, aside from making me work harder to clear your name." Jarrod pushed him up against the wall, pressed close. "This is real, Sammy."

"Bullshit." He shoved Jarrod away. "You're at two and a half. Get out of my house."

"It is not bullshit! You think I can fake this kind of involvement? You think I'd whore myself out for a job?" Jarrod pushed back into his space, rubbed their groins together.

"Don't." He slipped away, keeping himself quiet, calm. "I can't...I'm finished. Never again." He was never going to let himself be in that position again.

"You're just going to throw away your fantasy come true? Don't you get it? I did it--I proved that you weren't the leak. Someone was trying to set you up and I saved you."

"You lied to me. All you had to do was ask for access." He met Jarrod's eyes, heart breaking. "This isn't my fantasy. My fantasy... There's supposed to be trust, right? In my fantasies, I'm not the fool." In his fantasies, he was...necessary, too.

He turned and went to his office, locked the door behind him and started changing passwords so that he could write his letter of resignation.

"Sammy!" Jarrod banged on the door to his office. "Damn it--open the door, Sammy."

No.

No, he was done.

He'd told himself that last night was to get Jarrod out from under his skin. Now he just had to believe it.

Jarrod slammed out of the offices of Bailey, Billings, Hering and Weir.

Samuel had fucking resigned.

Jarrod had exonerated him--in fact, once he'd managed to convince the higher ups that Samuel was being framed, they'd been able to find the actual culprit.

He'd spent most of the day being debriefed and then went to clear out his desk. His plan had been to talk to Sammy then, make the man understand that their personal relationship had been just that--it had nothing to do with the job. That was kind of hard to do when the man wasn't in his office, though.

Karen had been happy to fill him in on the gossip: Brewster had been arrested; Samuel had resigned--he hadn't even bothered to come in for any of the stuff in his office, just sent in an email and nobody had been able to get in touch with him. The firm was in a shambles.

Jarrod had called Sammy's cell phone repeatedly. The first two calls had gone to voice mail, the subsequent ones to a message that the customer he was trying to reach was out of service.

Jarrod just hoped that Sammy was at home because that was the extent of his knowledge of how to contact the man and there was no fucking way he was letting Samuel Cavanaugh walk out of his life.

Not when they fit so fucking well together. Not when the sex had been off the goddamn charts. Not when he knew exactly what to do to blow Sammy's mind and fulfill every last one of his fucking fantasies. Not when he was in fucking love with the bastard.

Yeah, that last one had kind of rocked him to the core.

He knew he'd come to care for Sammy, knew the man meant far more to him than a job, but love. Shit, Jarrod wasn't sure he believed in it. But there it was.

It was dark by the time he'd made his way through the fucking traffic to Sammy's building and then parking had been a nightmare. He had to walk four blocks back to the place. He was shifting between anger and worry, but really, he was just worried. What if Samuel had already gone?

He put his finger on the buzzer for Sammy's place, holding it down a good ten, fifteen seconds.

"Whatever you're selling, I'm not interested."

"Let me in, Sammy." He was not doing this out on the street. He was not doing this where Sammy could ignore him by simply hanging up the intercom.

"What do you want?"

"To talk to you. Let me in."

He saw someone coming toward the front doors. Good, he could get in--Sammy would have to let him in if he was actually banging on the man's door.

"No. I can't see you. Leave me be." The intercom went dead.

Damn it.

All right. Slipping in and beating on Sammy's door it was.

He moved toward the front door, digging in his pocket like he was looking for his keys. When the guy coming out opened the door, Jarrod nodded, said, "Thanks, man," and walked in like he belonged there. Which he did, damn it.

He headed up and up. There was no way Sammy could turn him away. No way. They had something... something bigger than either one of them separately, damn it. That couldn't be over--it wasn't going to just fade away.

He stopped in front of Sammy's door and took a breath. Okay, he was going to start reasonably and just knock; he wasn't above escalating as needed, though. Samuel was going to have to call the police to get rid of him this time.

He knocked twice on the door.

"Yes?" He heard boxes rattling, then the door opened, Sammy standing there with a tape gun in hand.

Jarrod raised his hands. "Don't shoot!"

"What?"

"The gun." He pointed to the tape gun in Sammy's hand. He sighed. "It was a joke--you know, a tension breaker?"

"Oh. Right. What do you want?" Sammy looked exhausted. It broke his heart.

"You." He stepped forward into Sammy's apartment. "I want you."

"I'm not available. Get out."

Sammy's place was trashed, everything packed and in boxes. Sammy'd looked only partially unpacked before, now it looked like he was all but ready to move out. Jarrod was just in time.

"You don't get it. I'm not going. We're good together, Sammy. We're good when I bend you over your desk and fuck you. We're good when I put you over my lap and spank you." He stepped forward with every point, making Sammy back up. "You're shaved bare because of me. You're wonderfully sore because of me. You're dreaming of nipple rings and cock cages because of me."

"Go away." Sammy shook his head. "I'm moving. You have to go."

"Why are you moving? And I'm not going anywhere." He kept stalking forward, backing Sammy right into a wall.

"I'm going away. I'm not staying here." The tape gun fell, clattering to the ground.

"You're not running away from here." He gathered Sammy's shirt in both hands.

"Don't you fucking touch me."

God, his lover was beautiful.

"You now have a safe word; it's deposition. I know you know how to use it." With that, he pulled Sammy to him and took that amazing mouth.

The fire between them flared, and Jarrod growled, dragging Sammy closer. His. His, damn it. And Sammy knew it, too, deep in his gut.

He pushed his tongue into Sammy's mouth. He was not letting his lover go. He wasn't losing this. He was going to apologize, then he was going to spend the rest of his fucking life making his man's dreams come true.

Right now he was going to kiss Sammy breathless.

Sammy's hands landed on his shoulders, and Jarrod didn't think even Sammy knew whether he was pushing away or pulling closer. He went with pulling closer, and pressed up hard against Sammy's body.

"You leave me alone." Sammy groaned the words against his lips.

"That's not what you really want." He bit at Sammy's bottom lip, then sucked it between his lips.

This close, he could see the sorrow, the stress, the sadness in Sammy's eyes. He let go of Sammy's lip and pressed their foreheads together. He looked right into the man's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Sammy. As soon as I got involved I should have told you. Honestly, I didn't want you to know anyone thought that of you, because I knew it couldn't be true."

"You should have. You should have been honest. You saw all of me."

He nodded. "I should have and I still do. See all of you, I mean."

Sammy shook his head. "I'm moving. I'm out of here."

"You can't shake me that easily, Sammy. I'm inside you now." He touched Sammy's chest, feeling that heart pound. "You have to forgive me."

"Why?"

"Because otherwise we both lose something amazing. I know you can feel it, Sammy. You have from the start."

"Who do you work for? What's your job?"

"This between us--this was never any part of a job, Sammy. You have to know that--you have to believe it because it's the truth."

Sammy stared him down. "I want to believe it, but I want full disclosure. You're not a legal secretary."

"No. I'm with Northern Secure, a security firm that was hired to find out who was leaking information at Bailey, Billings, Hering and Weir." He was fucking good at his job, too, and he'd never slept with a suspect or client before. Ever. Sammy had been different from the start, though.

"Do you always fuck your clients?"

"Never. Not
ever.
"

Sammy had to believe him. Sammy had to believe in them.

Those pretty, worried eyes searched his. "I trusted you, Jarrod. With everything. More than was safe."

"I never betrayed you, Sammy. I fought to clear your name. Even when all the evidence said it was you, I refused to believe it."

"I'm not a...whatever they thought I was. I'm an honest man."

"I know. And that's what I told them--what I proved. The real spy was framing you."

Sammy nodded for him, then looked away. "I sold this place. I'm moving. Going to find somewhere else to practice."

"You didn't have to do that..." But he knew Sammy had already quit, hell, had already sold the condo. He grabbed hold of Sammy's arms. "But if that's what you felt right doing, that's your decision. Don't leave me behind, too, though."

"I..." Sammy sighed, softly, then almost smiled.

He brushed his thumb along Sammy's mouth. "You what?"

"I've missed you. Asshole."

He smiled, knowing now it was going to be okay; Sammy was going to forgive him. Even if that wasn't right this second.

"Missed you, too, Sammy. Like crazy."

"My name's Samuel." Oh. Pushy little bottom.

He held Sammy's eyes as he replied. "I know what your name is. Sammy."

"Do you? Are you sure?"

"Yes. It's
Mine.
"

"Maybe. Someday."

"You already are. I'm not going anywhere. You'll admit it sooner or later." He reached down, cupped Sammy's balls, squeezed nice and gently. "All mine. Every fucking inch. I'm going to bend you over your desk and spank your ass. I'm going to cage you and pierce you and make you crazy in all the best ways."

Sammy shook his head. "No way." That cock jerked, leapt in his hand.

He laughed softly. "Right. You hate the very idea."

"We're not doing that again."

"Not doing what again? Making you come with just words?"

"Shut up. I'm packing."

"Actually, it looks to me like you're standing against the wall about to get fucked."

God, he loved that sweet, needy son of a bitch. He took Sammy's mouth and poured all his love into the kiss. Sammy stiffened, gasped, hands wrapping around his arms. He pressed them together, shoulders to toes, their mouths locked as his tongue plunged, took, explored.

Sammy groaned, lips opening, letting him in. Yeah, that was it--what they both needed, what they both wanted. Shit, he never wanted to lie to Samuel again and he certainly wasn't going to do it with his body. His hands cupped Sammy's head, tilted him back. He devoured Sammy's mouth, made him really feel it, feel how good it was between them.

Deep moans pushed into his mouth; Sammy rubbed against him. Sammy wanted him--needed him even. He'd been right, this wasn't one-sided. Groaning, he grabbed Sammy's arms and pulled them up over his head.

"Not doing this." Sammy moaned the words into his lips.