He broke off the kiss before it could blaze out of control and released Quinn, taking a step back to clear his head. He definitely needed more of that, but work had to come first…at least for a little while.
“Second, we grab some food and check out some of the leads that we do have.”
“Like the email. Got it. What about this?” Quinn held up the sweatshirt and cap still fisted in his right hand.
Shane took the sweatshirt, held it to his nose, and deeply inhaled. He got a hint of dirt, a bit of sweat, and what was possibly either fabric softener or detergent, but not what he was looking for. He’d hoped for a whiff of cologne or perfume, something to sway him one direction or the other on the person’s gender. They just weren’t that lucky.
“Come on. Let’s head back to the car. I need to brainstorm.”
Quinn groaned. “That sounds boring.”
Shane let a wicked grin stretch his lips. “I’ll make it up to you later.”Chapter ElevenQuinn leaned back in his seat and pushed up his glasses so he could rub his eyes. He’d been staring at the screen for far too many hours already. After grabbing some drive-thru, they returned to Shane’s office and fell into work. A quick glance through Quinn’s pictures from the rally two days earlier revealed a picture of a figure in the same sweatshirt, ball cap, and sunglasses, standing with the protestors. He was sure that it was a woman, but they couldn’t see any additional features that would help identify her.
So he dug into researching the protestors. The words were starting to blur together…or at the very least, all the people on the Facebook group he was lurking in were starting to sound the same. But that was the problem with people operating in an echo chamber. They all started repeating each other’s message rather than introducing new ideas.
Not that he really disagreed with this particular group. It was that it had devolved into a lot of blame and anger rather than becoming a force for positive change in the community.
“Need a break?” Shane asked.
“For a few minutes.” Quinn set his glasses on the desktop and rubbed his face, then his hair. He needed to wake up. Maybe another cup of coffee would help though Shane didn’t have the creamer that he liked. He didn’t want to admit that he liked a very particular kind and that he was some kind of high-maintenance pain in the ass. He’d meant to bring some in this morning.
Shane’s chair gave a soft squeak and Quinn smiled. Without looking around, he knew that Shane had gotten up and was moving closer. After more than a week of working together in Shane’s office, he’d become attuned to all the little noises and cues to Shane’s movements and even his moods.
A few seconds later a pair of large, strong hands slid over his shoulders and squeezed as Shane leaned close to look at the computer screen. A faint whiff of his woodsy cologne drifted around Quinn, and he had to fight the urge to take a deep breath.
“What have you found so far?”
Quinn opened his mouth to reply and Shane took that time to tighten his hands, massaging tense muscles until Quinn’s eyes rolled back into his head. A low moan escaped his parted lips and Shane chuckled.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
“What do you expect? You’re shutting down my brain when you do that,” Quinn said with a groan.
“It’s not the only way to shut down your brain.”
Quinn could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, and tried to gather his thoughts. He was still feeling awkward over sneaking out of Shane’s condo around three in the morning, leaving a note that he had to do some laundry before coming in to work. It wasn’t exactly a lie. He did need to do laundry because he was down to his last clean pair of pants, but it was more about the fact that he’d never stayed over at a guy’s place. He’d been afraid of how awkward things might be the next morning and whether Shane expected him to be gone when he woke despite his kind offer to make breakfast.
This was all new territory. He’d done the casual hookup, but it was with the idea that he’d never see the other person again. He worked with Shane. They shared a tiny office during the day. There was no avoiding him. Was he supposed to pretend that nothing had happened? That he didn’t know what it felt like to have Shane’s cock on his tongue or what the man tasted like? Yeah, he was never going to forget that.
But Shane just strolled in, winked, and went about work like nothing had changed. And that was the point. They’d have some fun together, get off, and go about their lives as if nothing had changed because it hadn’t. Could it really be this normal?