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It gave him a start hearing his first name on Kennedy’s tongue.
Really he did not want to think about Kennedy’s tongue.
And on that topic, why the hell had he made such a big point about not having sex with coworkers? Because of course he wanted to have sex again. Last night had been good. Really good. His job did not leave a lot of time for…well, anything but his job.
Kennedy was watching him, smiling a little, eyes intent.
“I don’t know,” Jason muttered. “I don’t like this case.”
“Who the hell would like this case?” There was a hint of wry amusement in Kennedy’s tone. He said softly, “I know what you need…”
Jason threw him a quick, alarmed look. Kennedy’s grin widened.
“You need a drink. You need a couple of drinks. And here’s Nika to save the day.”
Nika deposited a fresh beer in front of Kennedy and a plate of fish and chips sizzling with oil in front of Jason. Opening a bottle, she tilted the Sam Adams with practiced speed into a frosted mug. “Anything else?”
“This is great,” Jason said.
She grinned at him and departed.
Kennedy said, “They cut McEnroe loose this afternoon. On bail.”
“I heard. Well, I figured that was coming. You don’t think there’s any chance—”
Kennedy shook his head. “No. He’d have been in pieces by now. We’d have had a full confession. He’s not our killer.”
They talked about the case while Jason ate. Finally Jason pushed his plate away. He considered ordering another beer. Was Kennedy staying longer, or was he headed back to the motel? If he was staying, Jason would have another beer. Just to be friendly.
“Feeling better?” asked Kennedy.
Jason made a face. “Yeah. A lot.”
Kennedy nodded approval. “Good. Are you headed out early tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?”
“You’re going to Boston, right? To talk to your art dealer contacts?”
“Oh. Right. Early-ish.” Studying Kennedy’s face, Jason realized he was about to miss his cue. He said hastily, “Not that early.”
“No?” Despite Kennedy’s serious expression, Jason had the distinct impression he was being laughed at. “Okay. Well, I know you’ve got that strict no-fraternization policy, so I don’t want to put you in an awkward p—”
“Shut the hell up,” Jason said, starting to laugh himself.
This time they were both a lot more sober and not quite as frantic, though hearing the seam of his shirt’s left shoulder give way as Kennedy backed him toward the bed, Jason was grateful he’d had his laundry done.
Somewhere in the short distance between the door and the bed he lost not only his shirt, but his shoes and socks. And Kennedy had lost a lot more.
Catching a glimpse of his own face in the mirror over the desk—Kennedy had turned the lights on when they walked in—Jason saw himself sprawled on the bed, hair tumbled and eyes glittering wildly as Kennedy’s hands fastened on his hips and dragged his jeans down to his knees.
“You want to turn the lights off?” Jason asked. Flair for the dramatic or not, he wasn’t much of an exhibitionist.
“No. I like looking at you.” Kennedy hauled Jason’s jeans the rest of the way off and tossed them aside. He leaned over the bed, hands fisting the mattress on either side of Jason’s shoulders. “You’re a very nice-looking guy.”
Jason’s laugh was a little self-conscious. “Pretty boy,” he mocked.
“Yeah,” Kennedy agreed. “But not just a pretty face. You’re sharper than you look
