Chapter Nine
Owen woke to a warm body pressed against his. He shifted and stifled a curse. Damn. His leg hurt. But seeing thick lashes drawn in sleep, feeling the warmth of Ian pressed close to his side, made the pain worth it.
He stared down at the boyishly mischievous face, even in sleep, and smiled. The fear that DeSanta was still somehow with him faded as he studied Ian. From what he knew of his thief’s past—which wasn’t much—Ian Ryder was thirty-one years old. Born a Scorpio, with natural blue eyes and black hair, no discernible birthmarks, scars, or tattoos, and he had no surviving relatives. His mother had passed away a few years after his birth, and he’d never known his father.
The Social Security number he’d fed the government over a decade ago matched a boy of that description, but Owen knew better than to think Ian Ryder was actually Ian Ryder.
His little thief had over a dozen aliases, some he still used. He’d been a huge asset to the PowerUp! team since joining Jack’s group a year ago, but he’d never had his talents manipulated by the PWP. He’d been born with his gifts and had left the program with them intact. His supposed crimes had been manufactured by some unscrupulous people no longer in Washington—or alive—to verify their claims. But if there was one thing Owen knew about Ian, for all his shifty ways, he could be counted on to do the right thing. All those he’d allegedly stolen from had been dark, with pasts more criminal than anything Ian had ever done. Ian had a Robin Hood complex for sure.
Which made it vital that Owen get Ian to see him as more than his rich employer, but as a man, as his lover. A boyfriend, he thought with amusement. Their first month together, truly together, had been spent with Owen enduring Ian’s snipes and challenges, meeting the man each time. Now that their relationship had turned into something more meaningful—and yes, sexual—Owen was determined to make Ian see how wonderful life could be together. And not just as someone to buy him things, but because they complemented one another.
Ian was type A, always busy. Owen could relax. Ian needed attention, Owen had plenty to give. He was a one-man lover, and he liked that Ian was the same. Sure, Ian kept him on his toes. Trying to keep the thief out of trouble would be a full-time job, but Owen wanted it, badly. With Heather under Jack’s protection, Owen knew an emptiness, now that she no longer belonged at his side but by her fiancé’s. But with Ian, he didn’t feel so alone. With Ian he’d found someone he could love, who needed him more than he knew.
Ian blinked up at him on a yawn. Those eyes hazy with sleep brightened considerably when he saw Owen watching him.
“You look better.”
He felt better. Owen smiled. “So, have you been as big a pain as I’ve heard? Do I have to bribe Tim to stay on?”
Ian smirked, and Owen’s heart thumped painfully hard. He loved that look on his lover’s face, that smug innocence that shouldn’t have worked on him but did. Ian was a scammer, but such a handsome one. His bangs fell over one eye, and Owen pushed them back, absorbed with Ian’s silky skin.
“Tim is all mine now. You’ll notice he carried you at my order.”
Owen pretended sadness. “Then I guess I’ll have to let him go. If I can’t trust him, I—” Ian’s alarm nearly made him laugh out loud.
“No, no,” Ian refuted. “I was just kidding. Tim’s yours, seriously. He only does what he thinks is best for you. And since I’m your boyfriend—you know, the one taking care of you—he thought you’d be best with me. Here, resting in bed.”
“Resting, hmm? I don’t feel well rested.” Actually, he had to use the bathroom, but if he got out of bed and crumbled, he’d look less than imposing.
Ian glanced past him to the clock. “It’s nearly midnight. I guess we missed dinner.”
“You hungry?”
“No. You?”
Owen shook his head. Not hungry for food.
Ian decided for him. “You should eat. Come on, I’ll help you.” He leaned closer, then stopped. “First, a shower.”
“I, ah. I can wait.” Owen’s bladder needed to be seen to. Now. “You go on ahead and get us something from the kitchen. I’m sure Bev saved us leftovers. I’ll clean up.”
Ian snorted. “Yeah, right. You probably have to piss, and you look as weak as a baby. Come on, studly.”
Owen frowned. “What did I tell you about who’s in charge in bed?”
“I forget, lover.” Ian rolled out of bed and stood with his arms akimbo, smirking at him. “Why don’t you come remind me?”
When Owen just glared at him, unmoving, Ian shook his head. “See?” He crossed to help Owen up, and Owen swore because he needed Ian’s help.
“Just get me to the bathroom.”
Ian helped him into the bathroom and left him by the toilet.
“Get out.” Embarrassing.
“Oh fine. Don’t throw a hissy.” Ian held up his hands. “I’ll be out here. Yell when you’re done, or I’ll get Tim to help.” His eyes narrowed. “I mean it.”
Owen muttered under his breath about bossy subordinates, but inside he was ecstatic to know Ian wanted to help him. He might bluster and play about being in charge, but the concern in his gaze had been impossible to miss. After taking care of his most pressing need, Owen limped to the shower and turned it on. He’d grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste when Ian barged in once more.
“Didn’t I tell you to call me?” Ian huffed. He took off his clothes in a rush and stunned Owen into staring. “What?”
“Nothing.” Owen couldn’t look away. “I love the way you look. Especially your mouth.” He too easily envisioned it wrapped around his cock.
“Back at ya.” Ian leered. “Now finish brushing your teeth so I can clean you up.”
Owen turned to the sink and scrubbed, wanting all of him clean of DeSanta before he loved Ian again. Once finished, he turned and stood dumbly while Ian fussed over him. With deliberate slowness, Ian eased Owen’s clothing off, working around the bandage on his leg. Caleb had cut the material away so that half of his trouser leg hung by threads, while the upper portion of his pants had to be lowered carefully so as not to pull.
Just getting his pants off took energy, and Owen was sweating before they’d divested him of all his clothing. Tapping DeSanta had drained him much more than he’d expected.
“Into the shower and sit.”
Ian helped him into the stall and sat him on the cold stone bench. Then he turned the nozzle away from Owen and adjusted the water temperature.
“We shouldn’t get it wet, but screw it. I want to see it, and we’ll put a new one on after.” He carefully unwrapped Owen’s bandages, then turned the nozzle back, allowing the water to wash over him while the spray avoided direct contact with his injury.
“Ugly, but you’re healing already.”
“I’ve always been a fast healer. Heather could mend it in seconds, but I don’t want to call her here unless it’s an emergency.”
“Right.”
They just watched each other, and Owen wanted to think Ian’s caution stemmed from new loving affection he didn’t know how to handle. Because sure as shit, that’s how he felt about Ian.
He leaned his head back but kept an eye on Ian’s perfect form. Such a tight ass, long legs, and that swinging cock that got thicker as he stared. “You’re a beautiful man, you know that?”
“Of course.”
The offhand acceptance made Owen laugh. “Do you look like your parents?”