He peered through the kitchen door to see if table three was clear yet. He could see Ryan out there talking to two big dudes who looked vaguely familiar. Graham belatedly recognized the darker one. Mr. Garrett. No, Agent Garrett. He was some sort of government guy, always smiling and friendly, didnt make a fuss, always left generous tips. He seemed like a decent guy, for a Fed.
Graham looked at them closer, wondering why Garrett looked odd. He wasnt exactly looking at Ryan when he spoke to him, nor was he looking at the pissed-off guy in the blue suit across the table from him. He seemed to be staring off into the middle distance.
When Ryan left them and came through the door, he looked troubled. Graham nodded at the table. “Whats wrong with him?” Ryan looked back at the two men. “He said he was one of the agents caught in that explosion down at the harbor shops. He lost his vision.” He gave them one last sympathetic glance and then was gone, off to the kitchen to put in an order.
Suddenly Graham recognized them: the two agents from television that Pierce had the vendetta against. The other mans name was Grady, and Pierce had yet to stop talking about him.
Caught in the explosion. Graham stood looking out at Agent Garrett. The explosion they set in the shopping mall. The bomb Pierce insisted needed to be bigger and better.
Graham had been sitting beside Hannah when shed reluctantly called in the tip that sent the cops and FBI to that building. He had helped lure Agent Garrett into that building. Because of him and his friends, that man, a decent man, a man he knew, was now blind. How many more people like him had they hurt? Or killed?
Grahams stomach turned. He ran and took the stairs two at a time, trying to get to the bathroom before he was sick. Z ANE sighed as he shut the front door and leaned back against it. While dinner had been great—the food at Chiapparellis always was— hed been tense, even in those familiar surroundings, all too aware that someone could walk up behind him at any time. Having Ty there had helped, but Zane was still glad to be home.
“Will you put my leftovers in the fridge?” Zane asked as he held out the brown bag holding the plastic and tin container, stifling the laugh that threatened.
Ty snatched it from him with a grunt. A moment later Zane heard the bag hit the floor, and without warning he was slammed against the door behind him. Ty held him there by both shoulders, fingers digging in hard. But he ghosted his lips along Zanes in gentle contrast to the rough treatment. Zane caught his breath, surprised by the dichotomy and immediately interested in more.
Ty pressed against him, licking at his lips. “I think you should find a new favorite restaurant,” he murmured before dragging his teeth across Zanes lower lip.
Zane swallowed hard. “But I like that one.” He settled his hands on Tys hips, his fingers sliding on the soft, fine fabric of Tys trousers. “Thats what Im afraid of,” Ty growled playfully. He pushed Zane against the door harder and forced his tongue between Zanes lips, running it along the inside of his teeth. He crowded against Zane in an unspoken demand.
Heat flushed through Zane in a sudden wash, and he felt the urgent need to beg for more. Hed been handled with kid gloves for two days now. He needed Ty all over him—the rougher the better. When their mouths finally parted, he deliberately fanned the flames. “Lots of reasons to keep going there,” he said, breathless.
“Are you trying to make me jealous?” Ty asked in a low voice. It was almost a purr with Tys rough mountain twang. Zane let out a shaky breath as he felt his body react to the arousal starting to spread through him. “Seems to me you already are.” He dug his fingers in where his hands rested at Tys waist.
Ty pushed his face closer to Zanes, causing his lips to move against Zanes when he spoke, his voice dropping to a growl. “I am,” he admitted shamelessly. Zane could feel him smiling. Ty might have been telling the truth, that he really was jealous, but he was also enjoying it. “I think you should start liking seafood instead of Italian.”
Zane opened his mouth to answer, but a shaky moan came out instead. He had to stop and take a breath and try again, and he pulled Tys dress shirt out of his waistband while he was at it. “I do like seafood. They have that there too,” he drawled, shifting his groin against Tys thigh.
“Dammit, Zane,” Ty snarled before he kissed Zane again, with no regard for soft lips caught against teeth. He reached between them to yank at Zanes belt, then shoved at his jeans, pushing them down his hips. He forced his tongue into Zanes mouth hungrily and ground their bodies together.
Zanes gut clenched; hearing and feeling Ty this worked up was a hell of a turn-on. And the fact that it was because Ty was feeling possessive…. Zanes head spun with delight, and he tried to give as good as he got. Ty pulled back from him just long enough to shuck his suit jacket and yank his shirt and undershirt over his head. Zane could feel the bare skin under his fingertips, soft and warm, shifting over muscles he could trace with his eyes closed. Then Ty was on him again, hands all over him as he tugged and yanked at Zanes clothing, biting at his lips and his chin and his neck, sucking on his earlobe and growling, “Youre mine. Jersey Shore can get his own.”
The arousal ripped through Zane so quickly that his knees went weak, and he sagged against the door with a soft moan, Tys body pinning him there. “Baby,” he gasped helplessly.
Ty finally managed to get Zanes shirt unbuttoned, and he pushed it down Zanes arms and left it there, tangled at his wrists. He dragged his hands up Zanes hips and around his waist to delve under his briefs and grab his ass possessively, then squeezed hard as he thrust his groin against Zanes and kissed him. Under Tys hands, Zane could do nothing but writhe against the door and try to return the kisses best he could. He had to struggle to get the sleeves of his shirt untangled from his hands, and Ty didnt help him at all. When he finally got loose, he clutched at one of Tys shoulders for support.
Ty moved his hands, fingers digging into soft flesh as he pushed Zanes briefs down. “Dont f**king move,” Ty growled against his lips. And then he was gone, pushing away from Zane and disappearing into silence. Zane almost flailed as he lost his hold, and he flattened himself against the door, trying to keep from sliding to the floor along with his underwear. He sucked in deep breaths, trying to calm down a little. His c**k was hard and aching, near-rigid against his abdomen, and he almost reached down to try to relieve a little of the pressure, but Tys words echoed in his ears, and no way was he going to disobey an order like that. He moved just enough to kick out of his jeans and briefs.