“Fuck,” Royce swore and paced a short distance away. “No sense in looking now—he’ll be long gone.”
Sven gently laid his finger to Geoffrey’s chin, turning his face left and then right, as if he were trying to catch the thin lamplight overhead to inspect his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Geoffrey gave a little shrug. “He hit me, but I hit him hard…with a trash can lid and a beer bottle.”
Now that they weren’t kissing anymore, previous pains were starting to make themselves known. His hip hurt like hell and the knuckles on his left hand throbbed like a motherfucker. He also had a feeling that his right arm was going to be bruised and he didn’t want to think about the bruise that was going to spread across his cheek, but considering what could have happened, it all seemed unimportant.
“Just a little bruised. Nothing serious.”
“I never should have left you.”
Geoffrey wanted to agree but for a totally different reason. “I’m fine. Shit happens. This wasn’t your fault.”
“I shouldn’t—”
Geoffrey grabbed two fistfuls of Sven’s long hair, twisting it in his fingers so that Sven couldn’t look away. “Stop! I’m safe.” He paused and gave Sven a flirty smile while tightening his legs around his waist. “In fact, I’m exactly where I want to be.”
The guilt and worry evaporated from Sven’s gaze as it dropped back down to his lips. Geoffrey’s tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip. This was more like it.
“You should probably put him down so we can get out of here,” Royce broke in.
Sven jumped, his hands loosening so that Geoffrey was carefully put back on his feet. Geoffrey glared at the other bodyguard, pretty sure he’d never come to hate any individual quite so quickly as he hated Royce in that moment.
But this was for the best. He would get Sven home alone with him. Yeah, that was much better. They could continue what they started in private under much more comfortable conditions.
“Did Quinn get any pictures?” Geoffrey asked.
“A couple hundred, apparently,” Royce replied, leading the way back toward the lot where they’d parked the Ward Security SUVs. “Said he’d send you some to identify people for him once he gets them sorted and entered into the facial recognition database.”
Geoffrey followed behind Royce as the bodyguard took them away from the crowd still gathered near the nightclub. Colored smoke still poured out of the club, while people stood nearby talking and recording with their phones.
A cop car pulled up followed by a fire truck. He had a feeling that they should probably stick around in case the police wanted to ask them questions, but he didn’t feel like it. The police hadn’t taken his complaint seriously at the house and only started to consider that he might be telling the truth when his car was vandalized.
As he walked, he thought he spotted a few of his friends, but he was quick to put Sven’s larger body between them. He didn’t want to see anyone right now. He just wanted to go home with Sven.
“There’s a good chance that Quinn actually got a picture of the bastard,” Sven murmured. “If we’re lucky, we’ll have this figured out in the next couple of days.”
Geoffrey tightened his hands into fists as he walked. That sounded great, but it also created an ache in his chest. He wanted to have his life back but wasn’t ready for Sven to walk away. What a fucking mess.Chapter 9Geoffrey had been with hot guys before, but he’d never felt the kind of lust he’d experienced with Sven’s kiss. Holy hell, he was still burning up inside an hour later when they finally got back to his house. Now, they sat in his dining room chairs, bottles of water in their hands, both quiet. Geoffrey felt so strange, tired from the crazy night at the nightclub yet hyped up from all the excitement. And that kiss. He wanted more.
He could see the same restlessness in the other man’s eyes as he kept staring at Geoffrey.
That kiss had shaken him up, too.
Sven’s hair lay in a wild tangle around his face and Geoffrey had the urge to grab a brush. He’d set Sven on the floor with his back to the couch and he’d run the brush and his fingers through all that hair, smoothing it out for him.
Sven would tilt his head back and close his eyes.
Warmth curled inside him, sent blood racing to his dick, and he tightened his hand on the water bottle, unable to take his eyes off Sven’s lips. He wanted to be held up like that again. Wanted those hands back on him—without clothes in the way this time. He wanted all that weight on his body and that hair draped around their faces.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
He jumped when Sven barked out the order. He hadn’t raised his voice, but his irritation was loud and clear.