The Assignment (#1) Read Online Evangeline Anderson

Categories Genre: Angst, BDSM, Crime, Erotic, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Assignment Series by Evangeline Anderson
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 51803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
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“C’mon, Valenti, you’ve been in a funk all night,” O’Brian said, leading him toward the bathroom. “Let’s see if a little soap and water can make things better.”

Valenti wanted to say that nothing would ever be better again, but it seemed like too much effort to get the words out. He had felt like this after Madeline had left him, and O’Brian had pulled him through. But tonight his partner was the cause of his depression, so he didn’t see how anything O’Brian could do would help.

“Ya know, you’re a moody son of a bitch,” O’Brian remarked as he started to strip off Valenti’s clothes, folding them neatly on the counter as he went. “Don’t know why I love you so much.”

It was the second time in twenty-four hours his partner had said that he loved him, but Valenti knew better than to get too excited. He knew what O’Brian was really saying was, “You’re my best friend in the whole world,” not, “Here’s my heart, take it, it’s yours.” He stood pliant, not caring what happened, while O’Brian stripped them both down to the skin and turned on the shower, letting the steam rise as the water got hot.

“C’mon, Nicky, into the shower.” O’Brian pushed him in and then, somewhat to Valenti’s surprise, followed after him. He supposed his partner was just “staying in character,” and didn’t comment.

The showerhead was a broad one, and it was spraying powerfully enough for them both to get wet at once. Valenti closed his eyes, stood still, and let the water, which was just this side of too hot, thunder over his skull and run in rivulets down his back and chest. After a moment he felt an unfamiliar sensation and realized that O’Brian was scrubbing his back with a soapy washcloth. He opened his mouth, and at last words came out.

“You don’t have to do that, you know. It’s a bit above and beyond the call of duty, don’t you think?” He meant the words to come out sarcastic, but they just sounded tired.

“Ah-ha -- it speaks,” O’Brian said, apparently unperturbed. He transferred his attention from Valenti’s back to his sides and chest. “Love how smooth you are,” O'Brian whispered, scrubbing carefully between the flat, coppery disks of Valenti’s nipples. “Not like me. ’M such a hairball.”

“I like your hair,” Valenti said, reaching up to run one searching finger through the dripping mat of reddish-gold curls on his partner’s chest. O’Brian shivered noticeably under his touch.

“I’m sorry this assignment has been so hard on you, partner,” O'Brian said at last, when Valenti thought he wasn’t going to answer. Sea-green eyes looked up from under dripping gold lashes, and Valenti thought his partner had never looked more beautiful or more unobtainable. “I never should’ve dragged us into this. It’s hurtin’ you, bein’ here; I can see that now. I never meant for it to hurt you, Nick.” The washcloth moved lower, swiping over his legs, but Valenti barely felt it.

“It’s not your fault, Sean,” he said, not wishing to cause his friend pain. “It’s just ... difficult circumstances.”

“I know.” A pause, and then O’Brian said in a voice that was almost too low to hear over the gush of the water, “I’m sorry it was so hard for you to touch me.”

Valenti, who had closed his eyes and turned his face toward the water, turned back to face his partner, surprised.

“I mean, that’s why you ran out of there so fast, huh?” O’Brian said, not looking at him.

“No.” Valenti tried to think of a way to refute the claim without letting go of his own secret. How ironic that his partner thought Valenti didn’t want to touch him, when the exact opposite was true. I could spend the rest of my life touching you ... making you come ... loving you.

He thought about his childhood -- loveless, barren, devoid of physical affection. It was O’Brian who had taught him how to touch in the first place, how to take pleasure in the simple, human warmth of a handshake, a neck rub, a hug, the feeling of your partner’s thigh pressed alongside your own as you sat on the couch and watched the game on TV.

It wasn’t O’Brian’s fault that Valenti had taken his gift and perverted it, that he had come to crave more than he had any right to expect O’Brian to give under normal circumstances. Except that here at the RamJack, circumstances were anything but normal. Why can’t I just enjoy this time with him while I’ve got it? It was a golden opportunity, and he was pissing it away.

“Sean,” he said at last. “It wasn’t like that. I just ... I got nervous thinking about all those guys watching us. And I thought you’d be upset because ... because of the way I touched you.” He laughed a little at himself and shook his head. “I realize now that was silly of me.”


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