Elusive Relations (Valor and Doyle Mysteries, #2)

by Nicky James

Living one day at a time means not worrying about what’s ahead or behind. It’s about doing the best I can in the moment.”

Who’s your heroin, Aslan? You must have gotten a taste of something damn good recently and now nothing measures up.”

Jack Pilkey, a.k.a. Quaid Valor’s Jackhole cheating ex-boyfriend—at least I hoped he was still an ex. For Quaid’s sake.

The moment, whatever it had been, shattered. Quaid’s face hardened. The notorious stitch appeared between his brows, and his back stiffened. I didn’t know why I did it, but I reached out and smoothed the crease with a thumb. “Stop frowning. Your face is going to get stuck like that.”

Yoko Ono once said, “A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream you dream together is reality.” Jack had never shared my vision of family and future, of growing old together and having children. Jack didn’t want to grow up. It was no wonder I’d been abandoned in the rain.

“Are you suggesting we go to a gay nightclub together, Quaid Valor?” “Don’t make it into something it’s not. It’s for work.” “Un-huh.” “For. Work,” I said again, the corner of my lips twitching. Aslan’s smile grew, and he pointed a finger at my face. “Careful, Valor. Don’t let anyone see that you enjoy my company.” “Hardly.” “I think you kind of like me.” “I think you’re delusional.” Aslan beamed. “I love it when you talk dirty. Let’s go.”

I squeaked and jolted forward when Aslan slapped my ass, grabbing a handful of the left cheek and squeezing as he leaned in and whispered, “Get your smug, sexy little ass over to the bar right now. We have work to do, and I don’t like your attitude.” “Um… inappropriate touching.” “Uh-huh. I’ll give you inappropriate touching, Quaid Valor. Don’t tempt me.”

His gaze had stalled on the goods which were enjoying the attention and rising to the occasion. “Do you like what you see?”

The tension that had dissipated after we’d messed around earlier returned. The touch burned and sent sparks through my blood. Aslan shifted around on the couch to face me. I shifted to face him. It turned into kissing. More touching. Then before I could comprehend where the night was going, Aslan guided me upstairs to his room and his bed, tugging the strings of the joggers loose and pushing them down my legs.

“Definitely. Once is fun. Twice is a rodeo. Three times is a commitment, and we both know that ain’t happening.”

“You should practice the respect you preach and expect in these teenagers. Otherwise, you aren’t much of a role model.”

Aslan leaned over the console. In one fluid movement, his hand found its way to my nape and drew me in for a kiss, stopping the string of excuses. It was tender and painfully sweet. It didn’t scream I want to lay you out and fuck you senseless. Instead, it whispered I want to savor you, memorize you, and imprint your lips and taste onto my soul.

It’s too late. I’m fucked. This is going to hurt when it’s over.

He moved closer, his lips brushing mine.

I would never tell him, but I was kind of sad he hadn’t added a second notch to my bedpost.

Our eyes locked. The air in the room thrummed. Aslan cupped my chin, traced his thumb along my jaw, then, without reservation, pulled me against his mouth.

“I thought I’d see if you wanted to go to dinner with me. Like a date. A dinner date. Wow, I’m a little rusty.”

We were both grinning, faces hovering close. Aslan brushed his lips over mine, and a shiver ran up my spine. I closed my eyes and took it all in.

What do you say? Am I good enough to be your boyfriend?”