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Guilt roiled in him. His fucked up past, his fucked up mother, were getting in the way of the best thing to come into his life in a long goddamn time.
“Hey. Ambrose. Look at me.” Barrett’s fingers were warm under his chin, turning his face until their eyes could meet. “I need you to stop apologizing for your family stuff. Apologize to me if you accidentally eat the last piece of cake or you hit my rear fender. But not for this stuff.” He huffed and his breath tickled Ambrose’s cheek. “We haven’t even gotten into my bullshit, and trust me, I’m gonna be the one apologizing then.”
“But you just said…”
“First one’s free.” Wind chapped lips kissed the delicate spot behind his ear and he bit back on a moan. Barrettknewhow tender that place was. Ambrose cut his eyes to Raf, but the other man was already asleep.
“If we wake him up and send him to bed,” Ambrose said, tipping his head back to rest on Barrett’s shoulder. “Then I’m taking you in that chair.”
“You’re the perfect kind of filthy.” Oh, that voice was pitched low in his ear and it sent ripples of awareness, raw and delightful, across his body. “Go.”
When Ambrose looked back as he escorted Raf off to bed, Barrett was still sitting against the wall, legs spread wide and watching Ambrose with the darkest eyes reflecting only firelight.
When Ambrose returned, he was alone but not empty handed.
“Can’t have you…waking Raf up…” He barely got the words out between wet, open-mouthed kisses along Barrett’s jaw and neck. Barrett’s eyes were even darker now and Ambrose was happy to sink into them as he gently put the clean, folded washcloth between Barrett’s lips. As he pulled his hand away, Barrett snatched it back and pressed his cheek into it. “I changed my mind. Up. Against the wall.”
Barrett didn’t groan until his back hit the wall, helped along by Ambrose’s roaming hands. The sound was muffled but it hit him just the same; a bolt of hot lust down his spine to leave a crater in his belly, open and throbbing. He kissed Barrett’s stubbled cheek and sank to his knees. Those big, rough fingers gently combed through his hair.
“Be quiet, Barrett. Can you do that?”
A fervent nod. He couldn’t let his gaze linger too long lest he get pulled completely into black, black eyes. Ambrose kissed the top of Barrett’s jeans, right above the button, then slid his hands down Barrett’s already trembling thighs. He squeezed the muscles under worn cloth and Barrett groaned, the sound muted by the washcloth. “Shhh, Barrett. I have a guest.”
With great care Ambrose popped open the button and pulled down the zipper, listening to every hitch in his boyfriend’s breathing. The power of this. Thetrust. It made his head spin. “Barrett, Barrett. God.” Ambrose buried his face in the cut of Barrett’s hip and breathed. Overwhelmed, overcome, happy to drown. His briefs were soft against Ambrose’s cheek and he couldsmellhim, that salt-sweet scent of lust rising.
Above him, Barrett made a concerned noise. “I’m good, I’m good.” Ambrose squeezed his thighs again. “You rattle me. It’s a good thing.”
The hands in his hair were even gentler now. He was dizzy with desire, that coil of need tightening in him as he shoved Barrett’s briefs down. Barrett had gotten tested earlier in the week and while his results were clean, they were still waiting on Ambrose’s. Waiting seemed like a small price to pay when he could lean in and suck Barrett down, no barrier between them. Just skin and warmth and the feel of coarse hair under his fingertips and the sound of Barrett’s muffled cries above him.
The next day brought three calls in succession while they lingered over breakfast. Raf and Ambrose were going shopping; a “necessity”, Raf said, when Ambrose rolled his eyes.
The first call, the best one, was from Val, asking how things were going. Forrest popped up on video, waving and grinning and looking a little bit more like himself. He sang Ambrose happy birthday in a warbling, high voice and Barrett couldn’t help but grin at the blush on Ambrose’s face. They made plans for a video picnic before the end of May, before Barrett’s fire watch started.
Val ended the call with a wink to Ambrose. “I have so many things I can tell you about Barrett as a kid. Just text me and I’ll spill my guts.”
“Val.” But he was smiling, and so was everyone else.
The second call came only ten minutes later, just as Barrett was pouring more coffee. He set the pot down to fumble with his phone, his heart kicking up when he saw the station’s number. Jacques or Meredith wouldn’t call without good reason while he was on vacation. But it was Oz’s voice on the other end.
“Barrett.”
He flicked his gaze over to Ambrose, who was watching him over the rim of his mug. “Oz. What can I do for you?”
“Wanted to give you the head’s up. The police talked to Ken and he admitted everything.”
“What?” Now Ambrose and Raf were looking at him with concern, Ambrose leaning in over the kitchen island and reaching for him. He took that proffered hand and squeezed tightly.
“Yeah. Said he was….hold on, I have his statement. I’ll send you a copy. Ken said, ‘Barrett helped ruin my life and I held a grudge for years after I divorced his sister.’” Barrett had to grumble at that; Val was the one who filed for divorce after years and years of Ken’s mistreatment and cheating and shady business bullshit. “‘But the divorce did a number on my finances and I owed people money. I’ve been robbing Peter to save Paul and it finally came to a head in the winter. I lost everything in a business transaction. Barrett helped take all of that from me, and since I couldn’t lash out at my ex, I decided to harass Barrett. But it got out of hand. The man I hired has his own agenda and I can’t stop him.’”
Oz sighed and Barrett heard papers rustling on the other end. Confusion was a fog over his mind. It was one thing to figure Ken was involved, but it was another to have it put so plainly before him. Ken’s rage and pain, his stupid ass getting in over his head with money. Barrett could only guess who he owed; Ken had always been secretive about hisbusiness. Val had only found out he was cheating when Ken left a file cabinet unlocked and she stumbled onto statements from accounts he’d kept in secret.
But this…
Real concern, the kind that had Ambrose abandoning his coffee and squeezing Barrett into a side hug, was now heavy in the air. Raf was quietly watching them, dark brows drawn down. “That’s…honestly, Oz, I don’t even know what to say.”
“Yeah, me either. I’ve done some stupid stuff in my life but endangering people because you lost some cash?”
Barrett managed to choke out, “Knowing Ken, it was probably a small fortune.”
