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Well, one of his options, anyway. Whenever he'd needed to take his mind off of things, it was either strong pills, or a stronger man.
No. He sighed. Both were out of the question right now. He wouldn't leave Eli alone. He couldn't.
Man, fatherhood is a drag, huh? I don't know how people do it.
But the urges had their hooks in him, and they didn't listen to reason. He pressed his balled-up fists to his eyes, trying to ignore the unpleasant sensations that were squirming through him.
Keep it together,he thought, his voice barely audible above the hum of the motel's ancient air conditioning unit.You've got one job: protect Eli. The rest doesn't matter.
But even as he tried to focus on the task at hand, his thoughts kept drifting back to the raw desire he'd felt with Ryker during their encounter.
The memory of Ryker's massive cock sent a shiver down his spine and a flush to his cheeks. After hookups, Caleb was usually the one left behind. This time, he'd turned the tables, leaving Ryker wanting more.
Damn, that was something else.Caleb was unable to keep the smug satisfaction from seeping into his thoughts.
Ryker was an asshole. But… the way the older man had taken control, knowing exactly how to push Caleb's buttons and send him over the edge, was intoxicating. Every time he closed his eyes, he couldn't help but relive the electric sensation of Ryker's strong hands gliding over his body. He could still feel the delicious ache where Ryker had sunk into him, taking him as his own – if only for one night.
Get a grip, Caleb.He shook his head, trying to force those memories back into the shadows.Ryker's just another dangerous man in a long line of dangerous men. Don't waste brain cells thinking about him.
Caleb stared out the grimy window, watching the raindrops slide down the glass like tears. Loneliness clawed at his chest, a constant gnawing emptiness that threatened to consume him whole. He'd spent most of his life chasing fleeting pleasures, desperate connections with others through drugs or sex, anything to fill the void that yawned within him.
As Eli's soft snores filled the silence, Caleb's mask of bravado cracked, crumbling away to reveal the raw vulnerability beneath. He buried his face in his pillow, cradling his face in his hands as the weight of his loneliness threatened to crush him.
God, what I wouldn't give for someone to just... see me.
To love me, despite all my shit.
Running a trembling hand through his dark hair, Caleb steeled himself against the pain that gnawed at his insides. For Eli's sake, he couldn't afford to let his emotions run wild. No matter how much it hurt, he had to keep moving forward, leaving behind the seductive memories of Ryker and focusing on the child who needed him now more than ever.
"Alright, you've had your moment of weakness," Caleb chided himself, wiping away the moisture that clung to his lashes. "Time to get back to business."
With a deep breath, he pushed his feelings aside, once again donning the mask of confidence and strength. He would protect Eli at any cost – even if it meant sacrificing his own chance at happiness.
And as the rain continued to fall outside, washing the world clean of its sins, Caleb couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever find the solace he so desperately sought.
Chapter seven
Rykerstoodonthesun-splashed boardwalk, the salty breeze tousling his salt-and-pepper hair as he waited for the phone call to connect. Families strolled by with laughter and smiles, their carefree joy a stark contrast to the tension knotting Ryker's broad shoulders. He watched a father lift his giggling daughter onto his shoulders, her squeals of delight filling the air, and couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy.
None of these people probably had to spend hours freeing themselves from fuzzy handcuffs,he thought, tugging at the cuff marks still faintly visible on his wrists. He scowled, eyes narrowing as he tried to ignore the memories of tangled limbs and heated whispers that came unbidden to his mind.
There was a click on the line. A familiar sleazy voice came through the phone, snapping Ryker back to reality. "Finally," the warden drawled.
The man overstated his importance. Crooked prison wardens were a dime a dozen — though they charged a lot more than a dime. "This is the middle of the day, Baranov," the warden continued, like he was king shit instead of just a piece of shit. "I have appearances to keep up. This better be worth it."
"It is," Ryker growled, his dominant nature asserting itself despite his irritation. "Just put me through to him. Your account will be credited."
"Fine, fine," the warden replied grudgingly, clearly disappointed at not getting an asskissing from Ryker. With an audible sigh, the warden connected the call.
There was nothing but dial tone. And then…
"How's my favorite bloodhound?"
"Cut the crap, Arkady," Ryker snarled, his patience wearing thin. He imagined the cocky smirk that his boss always seemed to wear. "I'm calling to give you an update on the situation."
The warm sunlight shimmered on the water, casting playful reflections across Ryker's chiseled features as he leaned against a railing on the boardwalk. Squinting against the bright glare, he focused on his mission, pushing all distractions to the furthest reaches of his mind.
"I've located your son," Ryker said into the phone, his voice steady. "He's in good health, currently in the company of Colby. I'll have him back in the States soon."
