Another possibility was that my sexual or—God forbid—romantic needs had nothing to do with it. Everyone had expected me to go bat shit crazy when I came back home. Was that finally happening?
Not that I thought being bisexual was some sign of insanity. I had absolutely no problem with the concept. I just didn’t understand how I could have reached forty-four without knowing my own sexuality.
Emilio quietly sat down at his workstation. He reached for the keyboard, then hesitated.
“Feel free to do whatever you need to do and ask questions as you go.”
He made a few inquiries about our goals, then I stepped back and let him get to work. I watched his long fingers fly over the keys. Numbers I vaguely understood to be computer code whizzed by on the screen, and within seconds, I was looking at a video feed on another monitor. It showed a guard patrolling the building’s main corridor.
“You got us in that fast?” It was a pointless question since the answer was right in front of me, but the smile he gave me made me glad I’d asked. I’d thought he was beautiful before, and something about the fierce concentration on his face as he typed made my cock take notice, but now, with joy and pleasure on his face, he was stunning.
“Sir? Are you all right?”
His words made me realize I’d been staring at him again, and hearing him call me “sir” didn’t make it any easier to look away.
“I’m fine. I just have a lot on my mind.” More than I expected. Or maybe it was actually less because I wasn’t thinking about the mission at all, and that wasn’t like me.
“What would you like me to do next?” Emilio asked.
Images formed in my head of things I’d like him to do, things I’d never thought I’d do with another man. What would it be like?
Fuck. I had to get my head in the game. My men were moving into the building. They were putting their lives on the line, and I was mooning over a man who didn’t look any older than my own son. “Cut their cameras and the alarm.”
“I’ll get the alarm first so they won’t be alerted when the cameras go down and head for the doors.”
“Perfect.” I knew that was the procedure. I was a leader. People were counting on me, people I cared about. I’d never been this distracted, this off-balance in the field. If any of my other men were there, I’d turn over command to them. I wasn’t fit to lead, but it was too late.
I held up a finger, letting Emilio know I wanted him to wait. I spoke over the radio to Giorgio, Niall, and Leo, who were all in various positions around the structure, ready to infiltrate the building and find the evidence we sought.
“Be ready to go on my signal. Alarm going off in…” I looked at Emilio.
“I’m in. All I have to do is push the button.”
“Three. Two. One.” Emilio tapped a key and gave me a thumbs up. “Go. Confirm when you’re inside.”
One by one they checked in, letting me know the plan was a go for now. Emilio scrambled the building’s security system so the guards inside would be blind to my team’s movements.
He continued to search for other security measures, signaling me to halt my men as he saw them approach obstacles. No matter what they encountered—motion detectors, pressure sensors, fingerprint scanners—Emilio disabled them all.
Competence had always been hugely attractive to me. The women I’d actually dated had been intelligent and passionate about their interests. When those competencies were something I didn’t excel at, somehow that was even more seductive. I had every desire to dominate in bed, to protect, to control, but how much hotter was it for someone to give me that control when they were just as strong as me in other ways.
I craved partners who were capable of handling their own lives. I didn’t want control over weakness but over strength. My last serious girlfriend had been a financial genius. She worked for the accounting firm that handled my foundation’s accounts. She was so good at choosing investments, she might as well have been clairvoyant.
I’d known Emilio was one of the best in the business. I would never have chosen to work with him otherwise, but knowing that, even seeing the results of it on a screen, wasn’t the same as watching him work in person. The more I saw, the more I wanted him to work for me, to join us in the field more often, to come home with me, and—
No. That wasn’t an option. The level of distraction I was experiencing now told me exactly how impossible it would be to work so closely with him on a regular basis. Sleeping with him would make it even worse.