Walker studied him until Kota started to squirm, finally letting him off the hook by saying, “Okay.”
There was something predatory in both his tone and his movements. Unhurried. Like he already knew exactly how this would go.
Kota’s mouth went dry as Walker hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, then slowly pushed them down before kicking them off. Kota blinked rapidly, heart racing.
Walker slipped under the blanket, then moved close until their bodies touched. “Body heat works best when we’re both naked, right?”
Kota nodded with a little too much enthusiasm, pulling another raspy laugh from Walker. It was clear he was teasing him. He went still as a statue beside the older man, continuing to stare up at the ceiling, like it held all the world’s secrets. But nothing could stop him from noticing the solid heat pressed along the entire side of his body.
“You sure you’re okay?” Walker asked, amusement evident in his rumbly voice.
“I-Is Walker your last name?” Kota blurted.
“No.”
Kota frowned. “What’s your last name?”
Walker stretched his arm until he grabbed his pants, fishing his wallet from the wet fabric, before returning to lay beside him. He handed his wallet to Kota.
He flipped it open. Walker’s license was front and center. He wasn’t lying. Walker wasn’t his last name. It also wasn’t his first name. His full name: Ulysses Walker Hayes.
Kota snickered. “Ulysses?”
Walker shrugged. “It’s a family name. Honestly, I’m just surprised my parents spelled it right. Neither of them had more than a third grade education.”
“Where was your mom when your dad tried to kill you?” Kota asked. “Is that too personal?”
Walker glanced at him. “Nah, squirrel. Ask whatever you want.” He was quiet for a minute before he said, “My mom was there. Well, as there as anyone as high as she was could be. My parents weren’t just addicts, they were cooks. Meth. And it wasn’t aBreaking Badsituation. They weren’t smart. If I hadn’t killed my dad, he probably would’ve blown himself up at some point.”
“That must have been hard growing up,” Kota said.
Walker shrugged. “I was good at staying out of their way. I learned real quick how to sleep in my makeshift fort, how to get food from the church or my neighbor down the street. I was basically feral. I’m pretty sure that’s why I wasn’t taken from them like my siblings.”
“You have siblings?” Kota gasped.
“So they tell me. Six of ‘em. They were all with the state before I was even born. My mom was high on her own supply with all of us except maybe my oldest brother and even that’s unlikely.”
“Don’t you want to know about them?” Kota asked.
Walker shook his head. “No. I have no interest at all in rekindling any familial ties. I prefer being alone.”
“Oh,” Kota said, chest caving in on itself.
They fell silent for a while. “Did you buy this rig like this?” Kota heard himself ask. “Or did you have it made? Is that a thing? Pimp My Rig or whatever?”
He didn’t really care about the truck. He just needed a distraction. One that didn’t make him feel like a stupid kid with a crush. Anything to keep himself from thinking about how good Walker smelled this close.
Walker looked around. “I had it custom designed. Figure if I’m gonna spend my life in it, it might as well be functional and comfortable.”
Kota nodded, relaxing a bit, noting how their bodies touched from shoulder to thigh. Every point of contact felt magnified, his skin hyperaware of the weight and warmth beside him. “That couldn’t have been cheap.”
Walker made a noncommittal sound.
Kota’s heartbeat thudded in his ears. He had to fight the urge to roll over and bury his face in the other man’s chest. What was wrong with him? He’d never felt such an intense attraction to someone before. Was it because he was a killer and Kota loved making bad decisions?
Probably. But he didn’t care.
He just wanted to feel the older man’s weight on top of him, his rough hands on his bare skin, his mouth on his. The thoughts hit so hard and fast it almost made him dizzy.
