Six Degrees of Lust (15 page)

focusing on the case.

“Lord, no. They are the best of friends, though.”

She stopped in front of the next painting and sighed, dragging

the men’s attention to a portrait of a very young Gabi sitting on

a rock, the Golden Gate Bridge and blue water and sky in the

background. Her face was sad, yet hopeful, as if looking to a

better future. It tugged at Logan’s heart.

“That was me right after Chris and I first met. I was a bit of

a mess back then, I’m afraid… That’s what broken promises of

young love would do to you.”

Logan resented that comment with everything he had. He

wanted to yell at her, ask her to stop being so unfair to Sam,

but he swallowed his indignation and asked her if she was doing

better instead.

“Yes, of course. It’s been years and it is the past. No reason

to dwell on it.” She turned away from her painting. “Let me show

you my favorite piece.”

Gabi walked over to a small alcove and up to a rather large,

gold framed self portrait of Christian. He was sitting in front of

a beautiful ornate mirror. His torso was naked; his face makeup

free. His reflection looked back at him, but his wistful eyes

seemed to be fixated on something far away.

Logan walked up closer. In the far right corner he could see

a small design. It wasn’t noticeable right away, but as he looked

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99

at it he could see it was the State of Texas. Chris’s longing look

probably meant he missed home.

“Is that him? Christian?” Duncan asked, standing next to

Logan, both their eyes going from Chris’s face to his blond hair,

to the map, and back to the face on the painting.

“Yes, that’s him,” answered Gabi, and Logan could tell she

didn’t miss the intensity with which he and Duncan were looking

at the painting. “Is something the matter?”

Duncan sucked in a quick breath. “He kind of looks like…”

Logan nodded once, noticing how very much Christian

Murphy resembled Lev’s victims. The guy may be taller, but

the blond hair, the belly button piercing, everything else fit the

description.

“He kind of looks like who?”

Many guys in the gay community looked like the victims.

Apparently, blond and pierced was the latest trend. Still, this was

a little too close to home for comfort.

Logan didn’t answer Gabi’s question though. He needed more

time to figure out if there was a connection between Christian’s

physical appearance, his being a painter, and the case they were

investigating.

“I have several pictures of paintings we want for you to look

at.” He turned towards her. “I need to know if you’ve seen any

of them before or if you recognize the style.”

“Okay…”

“But first there’s something we need to talk about. In private.”

He glanced at Duncan, silently asking him to give them some

space. His friend and teammate seemed confused but, after one

final look at Gabi, he walked towards the door. “Thanks, Duncan,

I’ll be quick.”

“No problem, man.” He smiled at Gabi in a way Logan had

never seen before. Crap. “Do you have anything of your friend

Landon here?”

“As a matter of fact, we do. Marie will show it to you.”

100 Taylor V. Donovan

“Thanks.” This time Duncan’s smile was followed by a

thorough once over. “I’m going to go check it out.”

Gabi’s eyes followed his teammate all the way to the door,

but the moment they were alone she turned towards Logan and

looked at him straight in the eye. “Well?”

He took a deep breath.

“Although I’m here in an official capacity and I must do my job

no matter what, I find myself incapable of continuing any type

of communication with you until I’ve been completely honest,”

he said. “We know someone in common, Gabi, someone other

than Adam.”

“Am I supposed to guess who that person is?” she asked,

a bit exasperated when Logan wouldn’t continue. “Just tell me

already.”

“It’s Sam,” Logan blurted out. “Samuel Shaughnessy is not

only the leader of the team I work with, but he’s also a very close

friend. Best friend kind of close. And I know, Gabi. I know who

you are and I know what happened all those years ago.”

“Okay…” she whispered. “I…” She closed her mouth,

looked at the floor, opened her mouth and closed it again.

“I know you probably weren’t expecting this.”

“You’re right.” She gulped. “Not in a million years would I

have guessed you’d mention his name.”

“I had to tell you.”

“How can you be friends with him?” She sneered. “I mean,

you’re so nice and he’s—”

“I can tell by your reaction you don’t have a very good

opinion of Sam, and of course you’re entitled to it.” Logan cut

her off. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d prefer

if you didn’t make negative comments about him in front of me.

I can’t pretend to know how you’ve processed what happened

between the two of you all those years ago or much less the

death of your baby, but I know what it has done to Sam. I love

him dearly, and I can’t hear you make comments that suggest he’s

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101

a heartless prick.”

“He
is
a heartless prick.”

Logan took a deep breath and put his hand on her shoulder.

“I like you, Gabi. I’d like to be able to remain friends, but if you

think you can’t…”

She grabbed his hand and gave him a trembling smile that

didn’t reach her eyes. “I appreciate your honesty, I really do.

As a general rule Sam is not someone I talk about… I have no

problems not mentioning him in front of you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” She blinked rapidly to stop her tears from falling.

“Come here.” She put her arms around him and hugged him

tightly. “You’re a good guy and I fully intend to keep you in my

life. You don’t need to worry about me talking about him, okay?”

“Okay.” He squeezed her one more time before letting her

step back.

“Come on, let’s go get Duncan and go to my office. We’ll

have some coffee and you guys will show me whatever pictures it

is you need me to look at.”

“Tea, please.”

“Huh?”

“Coffee is bad for the body. I drink tea.”

A lonely groan was heard as they walked out of Moments

Privé.

June 12, 2009

New York City

Boarding in a few minutes. See you tonight.

Sam set his cell phone on top of his desk, leaned back in his

chair, and stared at the ceiling, eyes wide open, a little freaked out

over the message he’d just read.

He’d known for almost two weeks that Mac had indeed

“looked into it” and made arrangements for a quick trip to NYC,

so it wasn’t like he hadn’t been expecting it. It had taken Mac a

few—fucking thirteen—days, but he had—finally—called to let

him know he was able to work something out.

Sam had been royally annoyed at Mac before that. Being a bit

of a workaholic himself, he understood how a job could interfere

with a person’s life and so he was, for reasons he didn’t care to

analyze, willing to wait for the other guy to get his shit together

and call him back about that rendezvous.

Of course Sam never thought the Texan was going to take his

sweet time in doing so. Why would he, when his experience was

more along the lines of having both guys and women trip over

their own damn feet in order to get to him before anybody else

could? Sam was very attractive. He could have his pick and always

did. He decided who he was going to be with; he decided when

and for how long.

He did not, however, wait forever and a day for a guy to call

him.

The first few days he hadn’t really noticed. Between work and

his situation at home he had enough on his plate that he couldn’t

be bothered with anything else. By day five all that had changed.

He was horny and he wanted Mac. He started to wonder why he

104 Taylor V. Donovan

hadn’t heard from the guy; then he thought there was a possibility

he might not hear from him at all. Sam didn’t like one bit how

that made him feel. To realize he’d be very disappointed if he

didn’t get a go at that ass raised his hackles like nothing else had

in a long time.

On day six he got an email from Mac with his test results

attached but no message. Sam replied with his own results and

nothing else.

By day seven he was seriously considering going out and

finding someone to scratch the itch with. He didn’t. On day ten

Sam decided he was going to call that fucking cock tease to let him

know he wasn’t interested anymore. By day twelve, after jerking

off one too many times to memories of their brief encounter, he

decided he was seriously over it and wouldn’t answer when that

asshole contacted him.

If he ever did.

Cue the phone call.

It came around three on a Thursday afternoon and Sam had

been in the middle of a victimology session with his teammates.

They were on a race against the clock and a very skilled serial

killer, and so far the good guys were losing. Their lack of progress

was unacceptable, and so frustrating they were pulling their hair

out. So yeah, Sam was in a sour mood when his phone went off

and Mac’s name showed on the display.

At first he wasn’t going to take it. No personal phone calls

while at work—unless it involved his nephew—was a rule of his.

Then he thought having a few choice words with the guy would

be the perfect outlet for his aggravation and, to his teammates’

surprise, he mumbled a “be right back” and rushed to his office

so that he could do his thing in private.

“Hello?”

That should have been his first clue that things were not going

to go down as he’d thought; when he answered with a breathless

“Hello” as opposed to the “Go eat shit” he had planned on.

“I can only take one day.” No greeting and no explanations as

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105

to his delay. “Does June twelfth work for you?”

“One day?” Images of all the things he wanted to do to Mac’s

body ran through his mind. One day was not enough.

“Well, more like hours. I’d be gettin’ there Friday night and

comin’ back home Saturday on time to go to work.”

“That’s such a short time…” He needed more than that. Way

more.

“Wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome… darlin’. What’s it

gonna be?”

“June twelfth is fine,” he said, choosing to ignore Mac’s efforts

to bug the shit out of him.

“I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.”

And that had been it.

The whole thing was like an out of body experience for Sam,

and the only way he could explain this turn of events. He’d been

so freaking relieved to find out Mac was single, perhaps too

relieved, but that should have been the end of it.

Of course, it wasn’t.

Sam was starting to realize his common sense had a tendency

to make itself scarce whenever the Texan was thrown into the

mix, leaving him vulnerable to things such as acute bouts of

verbal diarrhea during which he blurted out all inclusive New

York City getaway invitations.

It also left him vulnerable to his dick’s desires.

Later that day Sam had chastised himself for not only agreeing

so easily to see the Texan, but for tolerating his sometimes snide

attitude as well. Clearly Mac could be a pain and, although he

behaved like he didn’t care whether they got to fuck or not, the

fact remained that he was coming to New York for a few hours

just to have sex with Sam.

So Sam let it slide.

He grabbed his phone and, after reading the message one

more time, decided it was only polite to reply. He typed have a

106 Taylor V. Donovan

safe trip and hit send. He didn’t wait for an answer. Somehow he

knew Mac wouldn’t send one.

Sam got up and walked around his office in an effort to relax

a little.

“Jesus.”

For the first time in his life he was going on a booty call. Well,

technically it was their second one, considering the phone had

also been involved the first time he was with the gorgeous blond.

He wondered if it actually counted as a booty call when the guy

was from out of town. They lived so far away from each other

that their getting hot and heavy together couldn’t be more than a

onetime deal, which was fine with him, as Sam would never want

for it to be anything else. He probably should call it a hook up,

though. He shook his head a little, thinking how unimportant the

correct term was.

Regardless of what he called it, the real issue was that Sam

had shot to hell what felt like rule number fifty, just so that he

could shove his tongue down Mac’s throat and his dick up his

tight, perfect ass.

The idea of locking lips with people still made him shiver,

but he’d had a taste of that mouth and lord, his kisses left Sam