Intoxicating (Elite Protection Services #1)

by Onley James

Wyatt glanced over his shoulder. “Hey, Graciela. Did you hire a stripper?” “Aye, yes. Send him in, he’s late,” she yelled over the noise before waving a dismissive hand. “No, you stupid boy. Your father sent you another babysitter. I hope this one is smarter than the last.”

Linc wasn’t sure what he’d expected when Wyatt opened the door, but it wasn’t a sullen fallen angel with sparkling green eyes and a riot of blond curls.

Wyatt stopped short, forcing Linc to do the same. “That’s too bad. You’d be a good Daddy.”

🥵

There was nothing left for Wyatt to do but lie there, hungover and horny, and just wait to starve to death and die.

“I care,” he finally said. It wasn’t a lie. Linc really cared about Wyatt, wanted him to have a life out from under his father. The life he deserved. “What do you want?” Wyatt looked startled at Linc’s question, his full lips pulling down at the corners. “It doesn’t matter.” “It matters to me.” Linc didn’t know why it mattered or why Wyatt should care that it mattered to Linc. It shouldn’t. But he needed Wyatt to know that under different circumstances, he’d want this. Them. Whatever they fucking were. “I care about what you want. So, what do you want, sweet boy?”

Jackson snorted a laugh. “He’s not the fucking president. He’s a dick, but nobody’s actively gunning for him. Except, maybe you,” he added, giving Linc a pointed look.

Charlie’s face went as red as her lipstick, and her fury made Linc like her just a little more. “If there’s any karma in this world, your dad will get face raped by a chainsaw,” she swore. “God willing,” Linc muttered.

Wyatt once more looked to Linc. The boy’s despair had Linc wanting to take the blame just to keep Wyatt from having to explain himself. But it wasn’t Linc’s story to tell. Whether Wyatt told Charlie the truth or a lie, Linc would swear to it.

“He didn’t choke you during a sex thing? ‘Cause the way you two were just now eye-fucking each other and the rather impressive hard-ons you’re both sporting at the mention of said choking tells me you’re both either really kinky or psychopaths.

Linc now understood why Charlie was so important to Wyatt. She had never met a thought she didn’t speak, and she’d rearrange the universe to make sure Wyatt was okay.

An ache formed behind Linc’s ribs. Had anybody ever just shown an interest in Wyatt without an ulterior motive? Had anybody cared for him when he was sick or just hugged him for no reason? Even the simplest gesture seemed enormous to the boy. Linc had at least had his sister to look out for him, even with his lunatic mother and absentee father. Wyatt had grown up with nobody in his corner, and that knowledge ate at something inside Linc.

“Check your face, G.I. Joe, ‘cause right now, you’re looking a little less like an impartial bodyguard and a little more like a jealous boyfriend,” Charlie whispered, the amusement in her voice grating on Linc’s nerves.

“He’s over there with the swamp witch.” “Fuck yeah, Violet’s here?” Charlie said, craning her head to look around the room. “Charming as always, Charlemagne. Your mother must be so proud.” “She thinks I’m the fucking tits,” Charlie assured her,

“Oh, do shut up, Martha. Wearing sensible shoes doesn’t make a woman a feminist or a lesbian any more than wearing that hideous yellow dress makes you a goddamn banana,” Violet snarked, shaking her head. “I swear, with women like you, I don’t know why my mother fought so hard to win the right to vote.”

For Wyatt, the entire world could wait, and Linc wasn’t sure what to do with that.

It felt intimate and real… It felt like forever.

Linc turned, his gaze falling to Victor’s hand on Wyatt’s arm. “You have two seconds to get your hand off him before I tear it off your fucking body and beat you to death with it.”

“That’s right. Always. I’ll always take care of you. If you’re fucked up, I’m fucked up, too. But I’m here. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I won’t let anybody hurt you.”

Jesus, he couldn’t lose Wyatt. He just fucking couldn’t. He didn’t just care about the kid, he loved him. He was in love with him. He should have fucking told him yesterday. Now, he might never have the chance. Fuck.

Monty looked like he was going to have a stroke at the word fiancé. Linc might have embellished a little on the admission paperwork, but it wouldn’t be a lie for long. Wyatt was his. Maybe he was too young or Linc was too old or they were both just too fucked up for a relationship, but it didn’t make it any less true. Linc loved Wyatt, needed Wyatt as much as Wyatt needed him. He had no idea what would happen going forward, but whatever it was, they’d deal with it together. As long as Linc didn’t end up in prison.

You tell me every day that you love me, even if you don’t say it out loud.”