William "Wills" Matheson is a computer whiz, hired by Huntingdon right out of college. He's groomed for a position in the Washington Bureau of Intelligence and Security, a sister organization to Huntingdon. Eventually, he's promoted to senior special agent in the department of Interior Affairs, under the notorious Mark Vincent.
Instructed by Trevor Wallace -- The Boss, and yes, that's in caps, of the WBIS -- to follow Vincent after his apartment is destroyed, the younger agent discovers why the man is considered the best when Vincent easily spots him. Rather than knocking him down as expected, Vincent orders Wills to accompany him to his friend's bedside in GW Hospital. There, Wills meets the rent boy known as Sweetcheeks and is instantly struck by the handsome redhead.
Wills has never had a male lover before, but he's more than willing to give it a try. Gradually he begins to wonder if there could be a future for them together.
Things look positive for them when Sweetcheeks confesses his own love, but Wills is a WBIS agent, and Sweetcheeks is a rent boy. Will their jobs come between them before they can explore their newfound love?
Spike told on us. "They were making out!" he stated indignantly, and if it was to anyone other than my boss, I'd have laughed.
"Tattletale!" Theo accused, but he was snickering.
Mr. Vincent looked me over, the corner of his mouth quirking in a grin, and I swallowed hard. It was known throughout the WBIS that if Mark Vincent smiled, it wasn't a good sign.
But he just turned those laser eyes on Theo and crooked an eyebrow. Theo didn't seem fazed in the least, and I had to wonder if he was very brave or very stupid. Or maybe he was just confident in his friendship with Mr. Vincent.
"I only dented his suit a little, Vince." Theo's nimble fingers worked over the front of my suit jacket, and I realized with embarrassment that I'd buttoned it wrong. Was that what Mr. Vincent had found amusing?
I didn't think I wanted to know.
"Oh, my God, there's more of them!"
What the --? I'd noticed the old man in the bed by the door, but he seemed to be minding his own business, so I'd ignored him. Apparently I'd been too quick in doing so.
"Sir?" I had my jacket open and my hand on the butt of my gun.
Mr. Vincent looked annoyed but shook his head.
I took my hand off my gun but didn't relax.
"Nurse! Nurse! Mama!" The man was becoming panic-stricken.
A nurse came in with a wheelchair. "Let's go for a ride, Mr. Barnes." She blew out a breath that ruffled her bangs and sent Mr. Vincent an apologetic glance.
"I won't stay in that room! Do you have any idea who I am? My senator will hear about this! I won't be --"
She murmured soothingly to him, and what he "wouldn't be" was lost as she got him out of the room and I closed the door on them.
"Homophobic shit." Mr. Vincent dismissed him and turned back to us. "Okay, pay attention. I've got to go --"
I reminded him he'd agreed I could attend the autopsy, and he reminded me that if I threw up during the autopsy he'd see I was docked for conduct unbecoming.
I didn't care. Theo had kissed me.
And when Mr. Vincent left, Theo's eyes dropped down to my mouth, and I had the feeling he was thinking about kissing me again. I felt almost giddy. No one had ever made it so obvious he ... or she ... wanted to kiss me.
I ran my tongue over my lips and started to lean toward him, then forced myself to stop. Pretty Boy had lapsed into a drug-induced doze, but was the other rent boy watching?
I straightened, tugged my jacket into place, and asked casually, "Are you ready to go?"
Spike leaned over and kissed the sleeping figure gently on the mouth. "I love you, Paul," he said quietly. "I'll be back tomorrow as soon as visiting hours start." Then he turned to me and nodded. "We can go now."
We went down to the parking pavilion, and I studied the dimly lit expanse, keeping my hands loose. No matter how safe an area might be, there was always the possibility of some druggie nutzoid jumping out with the intention of scoring cash for his next hit.
There was no one around, but I stayed alert as I unlocked my car with the remote.
"Shotgun!" Theo sang out, and I shook my head, grinning. I didn't have to worry about coming across as besotted. My expression was hidden by the darkness of the garage.
I got behind the wheel, and Theo slid in beside me, his hand splayed out on the seat, almost inviting me to touch.
I didn't, of course. My dad had taught me to always keep both hands on the wheel.
And there was Spike in the back seat. Through the rearview mirror I could see him fussing with his seatbelt, adjusting and readjusting it, glancing out the window, and finally staring pointedly back into the mirror.
"Are we going?"
"Yeah." I turned on the ignition and put the Dodge in gear.
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