Full Domain (Nice Guys 3)

They stood in silence for what felt like several long minutes before Kreed finally moved, shoving his hand into the well-worn leather jacket he wore.

“I almost didn’t recognize you. Your hair’s different than I remember and you have this.” Kreed indicated Aaron’s stubble.

“I like change,” Aaron said and looked away, his heart racing in his chest. What the hell was going on with him? The fact Kreed remembered such small details caught him off guard and sent a tickle up his spine. Aaron was always finding new ways to reinvent himself. Changing his hair color and style was something he’d started playing with in junior high during his defiant phase. At first, he’d colored his hair for pure shock value—a fuck you, more or less, to his father and the private school’s administration. But then he found he really liked the change and kept it up.

From Kreed, though, those words felt like a personal caress and affirmation that he’d chosen well in changing the color of his hair. Kreed was a trained deputy marshal in the special teams division. Of course he would remember the little things; it was what he was paid to do. With another mental headshake, Aaron scolded himself. If he didn’t get his responses under control, this trip would be a total disaster. Besides, Aaron didn’t go for cocky guys and that was exactly what Kreed Sinacola came across as.

“I’m parked outside,” Kreed finally said, nodding in the direction of the exit doors. Aaron didn’t move right away. Now that he stood closer, he could confirm his earlier estimate; Kreed was around six-five, a few inches taller than his own six-two frame, and thicker, much thicker, beating him hands down in sheer broadness. Aaron caught a glimpse of the ink peeking over the top of Kreed’s T-shirt. He couldn’t see all of the design because it was mostly hidden beneath a dark material as well as the leather jacket. The temptation to immediately tug that shirt right off the man and admire all the rest of that inked canvas rode him hard.

Kreed Sinacola reeked of intimidation. He could see where the bad guys didn’t stand much of a chance when Kreed went for the arrest, yet Aaron just found himself intrigued. Another thing he hadn’t planned on.

When Kreed nodded toward the exit and took a step in front of him, Aaron’s eyes immediately dropped to the man’s ass. Oh fuck me! It was even better up close. The man radiated perfect in every sense of the word. Kreed’s body-hugging black jeans showed off a tight bubble butt that led into thick, meaty thighs. Aaron followed Kreed, his gaze still glued to the guy’s ass.

Out of the corner of his eye, a reflective flash caught his attention. He glanced up, catching their images in the glass of the sliding doors. Surprise and embarrassment swamped him when he realized Kreed was watching him in the same reflection.

Double fuck. He could feel his cheeks warm and he quickly looked away.

Shit! Aaron rolled his eyes at himself and his reaction. What the hell was he doing? He had shot Kreed down in flames, and now, he was drooling over him. Typical of his life. Clearly, he’d spent too much time alone and wasn’t fit to be in public.

“This way,” Kreed said, slowing his stride to walk beside Aaron. Kreed clicked the key fob and pointed out the black Tahoe two or three spaces down. He tried everything to ignore the guy, thankful when Kreed finally moved around the vehicle to the other side. Aaron carefully placed his backpack and coat in the backseat.

Taking a deep breath of the fresh, cold air seemed to clear his mind and help his perspective. Aaron stopped before opening the passenger door. All his thoughts needed to be centered on getting to the FBI headquarters, figuring out how to get his job done then getting the hell out of there. Once he got home, he had some serious soul-searching to do. In this moment he had absolutely learned his lesson about helping people out. Him standing in the middle of a DC airport, ogling Kreed—a freaking deputy US marshal, for God’s sake—when he had more work than he could ever possibly accomplish, all sitting on his desk back home…Yeah. He needed to seriously rethink his entire life.

Aaron had a carefully planned life for a reason. He couldn’t allow distractions—not FBI “requests” or lusting after men like Kreed Sinacola. He swore if he made it through the next few days, he could bet his ass that this would never, ever, ever happen again.

~~~

Kreed jumped inside the SUV and started the vehicle. He quickly flipped the heater knob to full blast, pushing the vents toward the passenger seat then just waited. Hooking an arm around the back of the passenger seat, Kreed used the rearview mirror to watch Aaron carefully place his things in the backseat. Man, Aaron had turned out to be an unexpected surprise. Last time he’d gotten a glimpse of Aaron Stuart, the guy had dark hair, that messy, just fucked style that grabbed Kreed’s attention, but today his hair was blond with black and purple spiked tips.

While he’d waited inside baggage claim, of course he’d noticed the hot, edgy guy as soon as he’d hit the top of the escalator, but he was searching for the dark-headed gamer. He’d been attracted to Aaron with brown hair, but now… Damn, his attraction ascended to a whole new level. Kreed kept his eyes trained on that mirror, staring at Aaron. Yeah, this guy was something else.

Quickly, he ticked back over the information Mitch had given him. His buddy’s words had been something like, “you’re barking up the wrong tree, Sinacola,” leading Kreed to believe Aaron was straight.

Kreed smiled to himself. Nah, Mitch must have gotten it wrong. Kreed had definitely seen interest as Stuart eye-fucked him in front of the entire lobby of the Dulles baggage claim area.

How had Mitch missed that monumental bit of information? Knox was usually smarter about those kinds of things. Of course, he could have misread the guy. They only dealt with each other online. But whether Aaron was gay, bi, or straight, Kreed was sure of one thing—he hadn’t ever had anyone appraise him quite so completely, and he most definitely wanted more.