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"Surprisingly, without even knowing it, I've been able to let him go. Because he was my past and my head doesn't belong there anymore."
Robert winked. “Told you, I’d sort your shit.”
Will rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. You give me two good nights of sex and now you think you’re all that and a bag of chips.”
Amusement twinkled in Robert’s gaze. “Well…”
“Cocky.”
“If memory serves me correctly, my beautiful boy, you love my cock,” Robert teased. Most assuredly, Will did and the other man knew it, even if Will refused to verbalize it. “Finish your breakfast.”
It was not a request but an order. Robert’s tone and demeanor had shivers of anticipation rolling down his spine. His wayward cock also came to life, pushing against the thin cotton of his boxer briefs.
Robert flashed him a sardonic smirk. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing.
Will tucked into his meal, finishing off his plate while ignoring his dick. When they were finished eating, Will cleaned up since Robert cooked. But the other man was nearby as he moved around the kitchen. A couple of times, he almost ran into Robert. Who didn’t seem to care or want to move from where he stood.
Placing the sponge back in the holder, he turned to his lover. “I’m going to get dressed.”
Robert was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest with a brow cocked, waiting.
Shit. This was one of those moments Robert wanted him to ask permission to get dressed. He remembered the man saying there would be times he’d be naked, but with the way his dick ached like he hadn’t orgasmed twice before breakfast or three times the night before, they’d never get anything accomplished for the day if he didn’t put any clothes on. “May I please put some clothes on, Master?”
Robert nodded and Will scampered off to his bedroom to dress, leaving the other man the freedom of his home.
Fifteen minutes later, Will had on a pair of loose sweatpants and a comfy t-shirt. When he stepped back into the living room, Robert was sprawled out on his favorite chair, a photo album on his lap, flipping through the pages. Will didn't care. It wasn't like his photo albums were hidden. He left them out in the open. Not all of his memories were joy-filled ones. Yet, his photo albums showed slices of his life when he was happy.
“Who is this?” Robert pointed to one of the more recent pictures.
Will shifted to the side of the chair, leaning down to take a gander. “Tristan. My last boyfriend.”
“The one that just left?”
“That’s him.”
Robert flipped the page. Tristan stood in his blue work uniform, a bottle of his favorite beer in his hand, smiling at the camera. Memories floated through his mind. He’d meet his former boyfriend at work, by accident. Will had been in the shipping bays, anxiously awaiting a delivery from Da Vinci Couriers to bring a much-anticipated piece of work to his Museum.
He’d forgotten all about the damn painting the moment he’d seen Tristan slip from the driver’s seat. Tristan wasn’t anything like Robert. Thank God. His former boyfriend was a wannabe. Always needing to rub elbows with the rich and famous, and he had no issue letting Will foot the bill.
It was as if a lightbulb clicked on in his head, and Will was able to see everything correctly for the first time. Tristan worked for Da Vinci, who transported all the art from place to place. Benefactors even used them, under the recommendation of those museums and galleries that used them.
His former lover had disappeared the day of the thief in his place a work.
A coincidence?
Maybe.
But Will didn’t believe in happenstance.
Sitting down on the couch, it was as if the dam of memories he'd held trapped because he didn't want to delve into, flooded his mind. Will remembered how Tristan had questioned him about incoming and outgoing art. While it was happening, Will had just thought his lover was interested in his job. Never realizing the other man might have nefarious plans or reasons for them.
Robert continued to flip through the album, unaware of his inner turmoil. Would the FBI Agent think he had something to do with the heists, or would he believe Will had been an unsuspected accomplice? Will cleared his throat, and Robert glanced up, his gaze searching Will’s features. He knew, even without a mirror, his expression must have been filled with shock and disbelief as the emotional tsunami rolled over him.
“Everything okay?” Robert hedged, tilting his head to the side.
Plenty of times in his life, Will found running away from his problems had been easier than solving them. He'd done it because, at the time, he believed it was easier. After his time with Robert, however, he realized he did it because sometimes, the answers he sought, were worse than the problem themself. But he could no longer run, especially if what he suspected but had zero proof of, made Tristan a suspect in Robert's heist case.
Will shook his head before answering his lover. He choked on his fear and cleared his throat, trying to gather the tattered remnants of emotions. “Robert…” He gulped. “Go back to that picture of Tristan in his uniform.”
