The Missing Page (Page & Sommers #2)

by Cat Sebastian

From a professional standpoint, James was adamant that Leo needed sleep. After forty-eight hours awake—and likely longer, because knowing Leo, he had underestimated—it was remarkable that Leo was still standing, let alone coherent. He needed a dark room, uninterrupted quiet, and some nourishing food upon waking. But Leo wasn’t his patient. He was his—lover? Friend? Both designations seemed inadequate, almost coy, when used to describe a person who was becoming the fixed point about which James’s world orbited. And right now Leo needed him. Not to fret over him, not to put him to bed, but to—well, to take him to bed. This was how Leo got when he was done with a mission. James was familiar with this reaction from the war. Some people responded to brushes with death with an urgent need for sex. James did not. James responded to brushes with death with an urgent need for barbiturates or, failing that, a place to quietly panic. This train of thought was interrupted by Leo’s mouth reaching a particularly sensitive part of James’s neck. “I missed you,” James said, and Leo’s only answer was to slide James’s braces down his shoulders and start in on his shirt buttons. “Just so you know,” James said a little breathlessly, “I’m viewing this as first aid.” Leo shoved James’s undershirt up and started mouthing at his collarbone. “Oh Christ—no, don’t stop, that feels nice. Anyway, I’m viewing all these encounters as first aid. Because otherwise I couldn’t make myself fuck a man who real...