Warrior's Cross Page 12

  “I say we just skip to dessert,” Julian growled finally.

  Cameron licked the dampness off his lower lip. “The customer’s always right,” he agreed, his voice husky.

  “Damn straight,” Julian growled as his arm tightened around Cameron. He pushed him slightly until he was pressed against the counter.

  Hands falling to curl against the rounded edge of the countertop, Cameron arched back against the hard, warm body behind him as his belly pressed against the Formica. “Julian,” he breathed.

  Julian hummed in response as he kissed behind Cameron’s ear and began to make his way slowly to his neck. His other hand came up and pulled Cameron’s shirt out of the way to reveal the chain of the gold necklace and more skin for him to nip at. Cameron’s fingers clawed up his shirt to unbutton it so Julian could pull the collar further open, and he hummed in approval when he felt the edge of Julian’s teeth. Julian growled softly in response to the sounds and pressed himself against Cameron, making the smaller man moan raggedly.

  Julian grinned and backed away slowly, gently urging Cameron to turn around in his arms. Cameron did, setting his hands on Julian’s chest and sliding them up and down, humming in pleasure as his fingers slid over hard muscles and soft material. He felt dazed when he looked up, and he bit his abused lower lip. “I like… to touch,” Cameron murmured thoughtlessly, cheeks flushing.

  “Well, lucky me,” Julian murmured with a smile.

  Cameron blinked. “I mean… not just sex. Sometimes more than sex. Or without sex,” he rambled. Despite the embarrassment of what he was saying, he was determined to say it. Cameron wanted to know now if he needed to curb his natural tendencies in order to keep Julian coming back.

  “You say this as if I may have a problem with it,” Julian responded in confusion.

  “I… some men don’t like… to be petted. It’s not manly, I guess.” Cameron shrugged slightly.

  Julian raised an eyebrow and slid his hands deliberately up Cameron’s arms. “You think I’m not manly?” he teased.

  Cameron’s eyes widened in panic, and his mind raced to come up with an answer. Julian laughed softly and placed his hands on either side of Cameron’s face, grinning widely.

  Cameron sulked. “You’re making fun of me.”

  “No, I’m not,” Julian soothed as he pulled Cameron closer. Cameron laid his forehead against Julian’s cheek. “Now,” Julian sighed contentedly. “Tell me about dessert.”

  Cameron chuckled. “I was talking about me,” he admitted.

  “I know,” Julian crooned. He pushed Cameron away and held him by his shoulders, tilting his head sideways to study him up and down. “It’ll do,” he finally announced as he wrapped his arm around Cameron’s chest and pulled him against him. Julian dragged him out of the kitchen and into the living room, narrowly avoiding the white swarm at their feet.

  Cameron laughed aloud and clung to him. “But I’m hungry!” he sort-of-protested. “I’ve not eaten since three o’clock!”

  “You should really learn to plan better,” Julian chastised as he stopped pulling and released him with a sniff.

  “Uh-huh. When was the last time you ate? You worked today, didn’t you?”

  “Maybe,” Julian answered carefully, pursing his lips and tilting his head in thought. “I ate lunch.”

  Cameron crossed his arms. “Told you that you needed taking care of.”

  “You were right,” Julian conceded obediently with a bowed head.

  “You remember that. It doesn’t happen often,” Cameron warned. He pushed himself onto his toes to kiss Julian’s forehead, wondering again exactly what it was Julian did. He suspected now that it had something to do with the police or private detective work, but either Julian couldn’t tell him or didn’t want to scare him. Both of which Cameron could appreciate, but it didn’t assuage the curiosity—or the concern. At least now he was fairly certain Julian wasn’t a male escort or something more sinister.

  Cameron pointed to the bedroom. “Go start a fire and pull the quilts onto the floor. We’ll have a gourmet picnic, how about?”

  “You don’t want to watch the ball drop?” Julian asked with a raised eyebrow.

  Surprised, Cameron looked over to the clock at the desk. One minute until midnight. “I forgot,” he said. “But I’d rather watch you,” he added frankly. Julian didn’t seem to mind him being blunt and forward. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it.

  “You’d rather watch me drop?” Julian teased as he reached out and snagged Cameron by his shirt again.

  “It’s a gorgeous sight, you on your knees,” Cameron said, his voice going a little hoarse.

  Julian gave a quirk of his eyebrow and his lips twitched slightly. “I find myself fascinated by you,” he admitted in a low voice as he stood in front of Cameron.

  “I fascinate you?” Cameron asked incredulously. “I thought it was the other way around.” He opened his mouth to say something more, but the clock he kept on the mantel next to the bedroom began chiming softly. “It’s midnight,” he stated needlessly.

  Julian glanced toward the bedroom and then back at Cameron wordlessly so that their eyes locked on each other. Long seconds went by as the clock chimed. He stepped closer fluidly as the clock rang twelve and slid his arms around Cameron’s waist. “Happy New Year,” he offered quietly.

  “Happy New Year,” Cameron responded, wrapping his arms around Julian’s neck and pressing their mouths together again.

  Julian returned the kiss, keeping it gentle. “I was always told that whatever you did on New Year’s Day, you were going to do all year,” he whispered to Cameron when they parted.

  Cameron gazed up at him. He wondered again if this were just a dream, because it had been a dream come true so far. “So what are you doing today?” he asked hesitantly.

  Julian smiled widely. It made him look five years younger and not nearly as serious. “You,” he answered mischievously.

  Cameron couldn’t help but grin in response. “You’ve got twenty-three hours and fifty-nine minutes.”

  “You really want dinner that badly?” Julian rasped.

  “I’ll eat tomorrow,” Cameron assured him. “Maybe you can fix me breakfast.”

  “Oh, love, you don’t want me to cook!” Julian laughed. “You pack that food up,” he added in a more serious voice. “We’ll eat after dessert.”

  Cameron warmed at hearing the endearment, and his body flushed at the thought of what was to come. “All right. Be right there.” He moved over to the bar and started packing the boxes back into the bag, well aware that Julian watched him for a moment before turning on his heel and heading for the bedroom.

  After refilling the bag and stashing it in the refrigerator, Cameron gathered up the puppies, petting each of them a little before putting them in the playpen with some toys. When he finally turned to the bedroom, his heart was thrumming. He knew he shouldn’t be nervous after the couple of nights they’d spent together the week before, but he couldn’t help the feelings Julian caused in him. He didn’t really want to.

  All year, Julian had said. Cameron walked over and stopped between the screens, watching Julian fuss with the covers of the bed and wondering how this would turn out. He wasn’t sure he believed in happy endings, no matter how much of a prince Julian seemed to be. He figured his heart would be broken no matter what happened. But seeing the man before him, his lover, he also knew it would be worth it.

  As he watched, Julian seemed to sense his presence and he turned to look at him. For the first time, Cameron didn’t blush under his intense gaze. “I could get used to this,” he murmured as they looked at each other.

  “Good,” Julian returned bluntly as he let his eyes drift over Cameron’s body in frank appraisal.

  Cameron straightened his shirt and felt the necklace move against his skin. He lifted a hand to touch the gold disc, and his fingers stroked along the edge. Julian watched the movement, his black eyes flashing with a sudden concentrated interest. He moved su
ddenly, swooping in on Cameron and pulling him off his feet and against his chest.

  A soft sigh was Cameron’s answer as he set a hand on each of Julian’s shoulders. He turned his chin to kiss Julian’s temple. “Do you like seeing me wear it?”

  “I do,” Julian whispered as he allowed Cameron to slide down his body to place his feet on the floor. Cameron reached for one of Julian’s hands and lifted it to press long fingers to the pendant. Julian’s eyes met Cameron’s as he let the gold sit against his fingertips. They were dark and unreadable.

  Cameron kept his eyes trained on Julian’s, though it was difficult. He wasn’t one for being so forward, and this was everything he had always avoided, this singular focus Julian seemed to have. He’d always imagined finding someone comfortable and easygoing, much like himself. Julian was a totally new type of lover: intense, dramatic, and highly unpredictable.

  He moved Julian’s hand slightly, dragging it across his sternum and throat, and then he sighed soundlessly. Julian’s grip tightened around Cameron’s neck, and he lunged forward and kissed him hungrily.

  Gasping, Cameron grabbed hold of Julian’s shoulders to keep from pitching backward. He moaned as their lips met; he could almost feel Julian’s desire as a tangible thing, a thing that Cameron evoked. He shivered all over. Julian pushed him back hard, pinning him to the wall beside the bathroom door with the weight of his body, holding him by his throat.

  A soft cry tore out of Cameron as his back hit the wall; his eyes widened as he lifted one hand to cover Julian’s at his throat and the other to grip at Julian’s side. Then he realized he could still breathe with no problem. Groaning, Cameron shifted his hips against Julian’s weight, trying to get some friction even though he was unsteady on his tiptoes, caught in Julian’s arms. He’d already been hard just from the anticipation of the coming rendezvous; now he was almost painfully so. The aggression from Julian hit a hot button Cameron hadn’t known he possessed.

  Julian pushed away from him with one last growl and let his fingers around Cameron’s throat loosen slowly. He was breathing hard as he looked down at Cameron. “I’m sorry,” he panted.

  Breathing brokenly, Cameron didn’t think. He reached out to catch the hand that had been at his throat, and he grasped Julian’s arm. “Don’t… don’t go,” he rasped.

  Julian licked his lips as he looked at him uncertainly. Cameron wavered between giving in and letting him move away and asking him again to continue. “Julian. I want you. And if that’s part of you,” he said with a gesture to his throat, “that’s what I want. You didn’t hurt me, and you’re not gonna break me!”

  Julian lowered his head with a pained wince and shook it once. “You shouldn’t see that part yet,” he told Cameron as he took a deep, calming breath.

  It was one thing to be cared for and protected. It was another to be denied without an explanation, and after his willingness to accept and go along with anything Julian threw at him, it was frustrating to be turned down. Cameron grunted and pushed at Julian’s chest as hard as he could. Julian stumbled back and watched Cameron with a slightly wounded expression.

  “Don’t give me that look,” Cameron complained. “What do you mean, ‘yet’? I realize you’re a very private man, Julian. You don’t share a lot about yourself. But how do you know you’re not exactly what I want?”

  Julian stared at him, dumbstruck.

  Cameron cocked his head, getting more upset as the other man didn’t answer. “Julian?” he asked plaintively.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” Julian answered.

  “You won’t,” Cameron said firmly. “Not on purpose. Or are we back to you thinking I shouldn’t trust you?” He rubbed his throat unconsciously. He could still feel Julian’s hand there. He wanted it there again; he wanted to feel possessed, knowing Julian wanted him that much.

  The wounded look flitted across Julian’s eyes again. Cameron flinched and dropped his eyes, unable to keep eye contact any longer. He’d tried. Cameron sighed and shifted away from the wall.

  Julian’s hand shot out and grabbed him before he could move. “Don’t,” he whispered. Cameron swallowed and stopped moving, but he didn’t look up. “I don’t want to scare you,” Julian told him calmly.

  Forcing himself to look up, Cameron nodded slowly. “I understand,” he said. “But I wasn’t scared.”

  “Yet,” Julian corrected quietly, but he didn’t look away. “I’m sorry,” he offered.

  Cameron sighed. Julian had contradicted him again. He closed his arms around himself. “Me too,” he said. “I guess I shouldn’t have pushed.”

  “It’s okay to push,” Julian said softly. Then his lips quirked into a smile, and he gave Cameron’s shoulder a shove.

  Cameron flailed as his back hit the wall again, and he looked up in surprise to see a mischievous light back in Julian’s black eyes. “You could try the patience of a saint, you know that?” he claimed in annoyance.

  “But it’s worth it,” Julian purred as he moved closer and pressed himself against Cameron once more, gently this time. “Thank you for letting me come back,” he whispered into Cameron’s ear.

  Cameron opened his mouth to say the same in return, but realized he’d already said it more than once. So instead he nodded once, meeting Julian’s eyes as the man pulled away from him.

  “Would you care for dessert?” Julian asked him, holding out his hand to escort Cameron to the bed.

  When Cameron slid his hand into Julian’s, he knew this was only the beginning of what was sure to be a hell of a roller-coaster ride.

  Julian Cross pushed the heavy door open and stepped into the men’s room on the lowest level of the Field Museum of Natural History. He stood motionless, looking around at the seemingly deserted space as the door swung shut behind him with a slight creak and a deep whoosh of air.

  Emergency lights that ran at night after the museum closed lit the room. One of them flickered occasionally. A faucet dripped somewhere to his right. A toilet ran on the far left wall. The heating grate in the ceiling rattled as if it had recently been dislodged somehow. And a large metal trashcan lay on its side with trash spilled out across the tile.

  That was the sound Julian had heard: the crash of the metal trashcan.

  His black eyes lifted upward, narrowing at the grate in the ceiling. In newer buildings, the heating ducts were only eighteen inches across: much too small for a grown man to squeeze through. But in the basement of the nearly ninety-year-old Field Museum, it was probably possible for his quarry to climb up there and crawl through the ductwork like an idiot, looking for a way out.

  He lowered his gaze to look once more at the stalls on the far side of the bathroom. There were really only so many options in a room like this, and he knew the man he was after wasn’t exactly the type who could think on his feet. The mere fact that he’d ducked into the bathroom rather than trying for the emergency stairs or even the bank of glass windows in the McDonald’s on the opposite side of the museum was evidence of that. He’d probably tried to use the trash can to climb into the heating grate, fallen on his ass, and when that had failed…

  He’d only had roughly thirty seconds to get away from the bathroom once Julian was alerted to his location. Julian knew he would have seen or at least heard the man if he’d made a run for it as he approached the bathrooms.

  Which meant he was still in here. Hiding.

  Julian moved slowly, his expensive shoes making a hollow, foreboding sound on the echoing tile as he walked. He pushed his heavy coat aside, pulling his weapon from his holster and slowly screwing a silencer onto the end of it as he moved.

  He got to the first stall and pushed it open gently, holding his gun close to his face with one hand as he peered into the stall. The corner of his mouth twitched when he found it empty, and he moved on.

  He skipped the second and third stalls, enjoying the knowledge that with every second that passed, his target was suffering from the tension.

  It was painfully diffi
cult, knowing you were about to die.

  Sometimes the mere stress of waiting made people simply give up when they were finally found. It was always easier that way. The ones who fought back were the ones that left Julian bruised and battered.

  He moved slowly, reaching the fifth stall with a heavy step. He cocked his head, listening, and then he smiled slowly. He turned, shoved at the stall door just hard enough to break the flimsy lock and pointed his silenced gun at the man cowering on the toilet within.

  “Hello, Ted,” he murmured casually.

  “Please, don’t kill me!” the man blurted as he held his hands in front of his face and turned away as if Julian were a light too bright for his eyes. “I have copies of the research! I’ll give it all to you, I swear! You can’t do this!”