Junk Shop Blues (Criminal Intentions, #2)

by Cole McCade

His preferences were as much at opposite extremes as the deadly, rough-edged aura he gave off, paired with the gentleness and patience he so often showed to witnesses.

That he judges based on my occupation and clothing is his problem, not mine.”

Sometimes, Seong-Jae thought Malcolm needed more looking after than the man would be comfortable admitting.

Seong-Jae was uncomfortable with his own body.

That compact, efficient body language and those tight, controlled movements weren’t born of combat training or even some internal mental discipline.

They were a reflection of a quiet, deep-seated insecurity that had probably lived in Seong-Jae since childhood, driving him to an economy of move...

The man drove like he couldn’t tell the difference between city streets and a Formula 1 track: staying barely half a notch below the speed limit and zipping smoothly in and out of traffic, treating the cars like an obstacle course and narrowly missing scraping bumpers, fenders, the fucking sidewalk. Malcolm wasn’t accustomed to the perspective from the passenger’s side, and to his knotting stomach they always seemed at least three inches too close to the curb and on the verge of smashing into a street lamp. He kept one hand on the oh-shit handle, one hand on his throbbing skull.

Malcolm’s eyes widened. That was fucking psychotic. And he goddamned well loved it.

Alloromantic people don’t listen.” She sighed, shoulders slumping. “How do you handle it? Being loved by someone. It’s such an uncomfortable thing. And it’s rude when I specifically asked her not to.”