Ian preened, and the dancing laughter in his gaze grabbed Owen and didn’t let go. Uncaring about his leg, about pain or anything else determined to keep them apart, he lifted the man and settled him over his good leg.
“Owen!”
“You’re mine, little thief. All mine, only mine.” He nuzzled Ian’s cheek. “Move in with me.” Okay, so he hadn’t meant to let that slip just yet, but he needed an affirmation that Ian wouldn’t leave.
“Wh-what?”
“For now. Just until Kerr is dealt with.” Almost screwed up, badly. Idiot. Don’t scare him away. Seduce him into staying.
Ian frowned. “Oh, well, I am moved in. I mean, before you left, remember? Keegan brought my things.”
“About that.” Owen paused, cursing himself for moving too fast. “What exactly is in that little black bag on the nightstand?”
“My special toys.”
“Hell. Now I have to know what’s in there.”
“Hmm. Tell you what. I’ll show you what’s in the bag…after you tell me what really happened ‘outside CONUS,’” he ended mimicking Caleb’s deep voice.
Owen paused. “That’s classified.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s a lot of trust, Ian. You expect me to trust a thief out to rob me blind?”
“Hey, I might want to steal your stuff, but I wouldn’t share secrets. I have some standards. Well? Gonna tell me, boyfriend?” A dare.
“I might just do that. But not until I know your real name.”
Ian opened his mouth, no doubt to deny he hadn’t already been honest about his name, when something miraculous happened. “It’s Ian.” He swallowed hard, giving Owen an odd look. “Ian Burke.”
Owen didn’t need to ask to know Ian told the truth. The smaller man looked panicked. “Does anyone else know that?”
“Just you.” He sounded angry about the fact. “Happy now?”
“Yes.” A simple answer, and one that took the wind from Ian’s sails. “You can trust me, Ian. I won’t break a confidence. And I’m here for you.”
Ian swallowed. “Until this thing with Kerr is over, right?”
“Sure, baby.”
Ian huffed. “Not baby.”
“My little thief.” Owen hugged him closer and nuzzled his neck. “God, you smell good.”
“It’s the soap,” Ian croaked, no doubt aware of Owen’s cock sitting thick in his crack. “I smell like you, actually.”
“Even better,” Owen murmured. “Now how about we take this to bed, so you can show me that black bag. After I tell you about my trip, right?”
Ian blew out a breath. “Right.” Then they kissed again, and Owen knew nothing but that he’d come home.
Ian lay on his side, propped on his elbow, and stared at Owen, who lay the same way, watching him. Ian had refused to let Owen do much of anything until he’d rebandaged his wound with some supplies he grabbed from under the sink. Now he found it difficult to do more than gaze at the handsome man who had yet to blink. Imagine Owen Stallbridge being as captivated with Ian as Ian was with him.
God, I told him my name. He still couldn’t believe he’d done that. He’d never told anyone the truth about who he really was. A last-ditch effort at keeping some part of himself safe, so that no one could touch that young, innocent boy and taint him with the lies and greed Ian too often found himself rolling in.
Owen leaned close and kissed him, a soft caress that brought those butterflies in Ian’s stomach back to life.
“I have to trust you with this.”
Ian nodded, solemn. He had a feeling Owen meant to share something not many knew. It scared him to think Owen might believe in him that much. And it humbled him, because for once, a man he actually respected was taking him seriously. It had been so long since he’d had that kind of trust and respect. Years ago, back before he’d learned what his government was really like, before his ideals had been stripped away, he’d had that same force of conviction.
“I…” Owen stared into his eyes. “Why did you tell me your name?”
Ian fidgeted but couldn’t break that stare. “Does it matter?”
“To me, yes.”
Ian felt the intensity of that answer like a punch to the stomach. He saw Owen, truly observed what he’d been hemming and hawing around. The patterns fit, the growing affection, the care, the teasing. That look… Holy shit. It was love. But Owen’s or Ian’s, Ian couldn’t yet say.
He swallowed hard. “I—you—it mattered. And I wanted you to know.”
“Thank you.” Owen grazed Ian’s lip with his finger.
Ian continued, needing to get the words out before he lost his nerve. “You don’t look at me like the others do. I’m not a fuck toy to you. And I’m not a joke.”
Owen frowned. “Who looks at you that way?”
“Please. I’m pretty. Everyone sees me as a fuck toy at some point,” Ian tried to tease, but Owen didn’t smile. “Well, I am pretty.”
“You’re beautiful.”
Said with conviction, the words meant more uttered by Owen than they’d ever meant by anyone else.
Ian blushed. “I am, but I’m a troublemaker, according to the guys at the gym. I like to have fun. Life is boring without a little risk. But they see me as a screwup. A joke they have to babysit.” And it had annoyed him after a while. At first, he’d liked being the one who kept the team on their toes. But they refused to see beyond the mask he wore. Owen didn’t. “You treat me like an equal.” Which still surprised him.
“You are. We’re the same in so many ways.” Owen stroked his cheek, his eyes soft.
Ian’s eyes burned, shocking him with the fierceness of his reaction. He blinked rapidly and coughed to cover his emotion, but he didn’t think he’d been successful, because Owen’s smile looked way too tender for comfort. Ian cleared his throat. “Yeah, well. It’s hard for me to see a rich guy who can have anyone he wants being my twin.”
Owen snorted. “Ian, let me ask you something. You stayed away from the government for years on end. If you wanted to vanish tomorrow, could you?”
“Yes.” Finally. Someone realized his potential.
“Another thing. If you wanted to sink me financially, you could throw some serious wrenches in my system. Moving money around, breaking into banks. Hacking DoD?”
With a modest huff, he nodded. Man, having Owen know what he was capable of was such a turn-on.
“Right. Like I thought.”
Now Owen looked smug. His light-colored hair swept over his forehead, masking those brilliant green eyes. Ian couldn’t look at a blade of grass without thinking about his lover.
Owen continued. “You’re smart. You make me laugh. And you could be as rich as you wanted if you worked hard for it. Illegally or legally, I’m saying.” Owen grinned. “But little thief, you’re here now, with me. And I hope you know I’ll never take you for granted.”
Not a declaration of love, but God, Ian’s throat was balled up with emotion. He nodded.
Owen blew out a breath. “I don’t want you to see me differently if you know… Only Heather and a few people, less than I can count on one hand, know what I really am.”
“Not Jack?”
“Not even Jack,” Owen said quietly.
“Owen, you can tell me. I kind of already know, actually.”
Owen frowned. “You do?”
“When Linda bought it, that heart attack out of nowhere, yeah, I put it together. Along with the other odd deaths loosely tied to your family, I think I know your superpower.”
Owen remained silent, his gaze watchful.
“You’re a psychic assassin, am I right?” Ian knew a moment’s fear at saying the words aloud, because holy crap, that was some scary shit. But when Owen remained mute, cautious, he saw his lover’s real worry. Not that Ian would tell anyone, but that Ian might reject that part of him integral to Owen’s being. Ian smiled. “I knew you were in on Linda’s death. Chloe owes me money.”