Page 99 of Point of Contact

Jesse heaved a deep sigh, weary to his soul. Reliving the horror of Riley’s death always took so much out of him. That sick, hollow snap of the bullet, the soft grunt as Riley’d taken it right in the throat...

“Stop it, Byrne! Jesus.” Jesse pounded his fist on the steering wheel, forcing the memories back. As he drove, he thought about the night stretching out before him and wanted to cry. It’d be fucking endless, because he doubted he’d be able to sleep now.

Shit, he wished he could call Trevor. He missed him. It’d been almost a week since they’d gotten home from Hawaii, and he hadn’t heard a word from him. Determined to give him his space no matter the cost, Jesse had left him alone, diving back into his work at Jelly’s in the desperate hope of keeping himself distracted.

Suddenly his phone vibrated in his pocket, startling him. He whipped his truck to the curb and pulled it out, a smile breaking over his face at the number on the display.

“Hey. I was wondering when you’d call.”

“Missed me, did you?” Trevor’s voice was husky and warm, and Jesse couldn’t help but give a delicious shiver at the sound of it.

Oh, yeah.

“Longest week of my life.” He didn’t bother to disguise the longing that turned his own voice raspy, and Trevor caught his breath.

“Mmm. How about you head on over, then? We can grill out, skinny dip...”

“On my way.” Jesse shoved the truck into gear, Trevor’s throaty chuckle as he said goodbye shooting to every erogenous zone Jesse had.

Driving with a hard-on sucked, he thought to himself ruefully when at last he pulled into Trevor’s driveway and eased to a stop next to his sleek sedan, unable to help but notice the oil stain left behind by whatever Carl used to drive. As he rolled over it, Jesse clenched his teeth, his arousal making the jealousy and possessiveness now roaring through him feel almost primal.

He pulled in deep breaths through his nose and blew them out of his mouth until a measure of control returned, where it promptly flew out the window again when Trevor opened the front door to his knock a few seconds later, shirtless and barefoot in a pair of low-slung jeans.

All mine.

Jesse yanked Trevor against him and lowered his head to kiss him roughly. Trevor thrust his fingers into Jesse’s hair and gave as good as he got, driving his tongue deep, licking into Jesse’s mouth and nipping at his lips.

Jesse grabbed Trevor’s ass and squeezed, sliding his hands down to the backs of his thighs, boosting him up. Trevor wrapped his legs around his waist, and Jesse carried him into the kitchen to set him down gently on the edge of the counter.

“Hi,” he murmured, kissing the tip of Trevor’s nose.

“Hey.” Trevor brushed some hair off Jesse’s forehead, smiling up at him. “I thought I was about to be ravished right there in the doorway.”

“Don’t think I wasn’t tempted. It’s all your fault, opening that door, looking so sexy.” Jesse smoothed his palms up Trevor’s splayed thighs and settled them on his hips. “I missed you.”

Trevor pulled his head down again, and they kissed lazily, hands roaming.

“What’ve you been up to?” Jesse asked, panting, when they broke apart again.

“Well, let’s see.” Trevor tilted his head back as if in thought, and Jesse took advantage, leaning in to press his lips to the hollow of his throat. With a breathless moan, Trevor gasped, “Other than laundry and other mundane things, I actually spent most of my time cleaning out the garage.”

“Really?” Jesse, mouthing his way up Trevor’s neck, paused. “Thinking about listing the house?” The words came out sounding tense despite his best efforts to keep them casual.

Trevor shook his head. “No.” He tightened his legs around Jesse’s waist, digging his fingers into his shoulders. “I’ve, uh, decided not to move.”

Relief made Jesse go weak in the knees, but he did his best not to let it show. “Good,” was all he said, and he nuzzled the underside of Trevor’s chin.

“I want to make room in the garage to store the things from Riley’s room.” Trevor sifted his fingers through Jesse’s hair, the expression on his face turning pensive. “After I donate the furniture, that is. But his trophies, keepsakes, things like that, I’ll put away for, uh, someday.” He gave a helpless shrug.

“You know I’ll—” Before Jesse could offer his help, the oven timer dinged, and Trevor made a pleased sound, pushing Jesse gently away.

“I made a cake for dessert,” he announced, hopping off the counter to grab up an oven mitt. “Lemon.”

Jesse sat at the island and watched as Trevor busied himself with dinner prep.

“Anything I can do?” he asked.

In answer Trevor poured him a glass of wine and brought it to him. “Nope. Just sit there and look pretty for me,” he teased. Opening the fridge, he pulled out a colorful array of vegetables before setting out a knife and cutting board. “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”