The Truth Within (Pelican Bay 3)

By the time I pulled the SUV up to the house, I was ready to just call it a night. Normally, if I wasn’t working, I ate a quick dinner and then tried to do some unpacking or painting while I watched the news. But the idea of spending any more time in Ford’s company sounded like a unique form of hell. And since Ford didn’t seem to be in any more of a mood for conversation than me, I kept it quick when I said, “Sandwiches okay for dinner?”

Ford nodded.

To my surprise, when I started making the sandwiches, he stood next to me at the counter and helped me. We both ate in silence, me at the counter and Ford staring out the side door that had the view of the pond. It was too dark for him to see anything, but I figured with the vivid memories that were basically imprinted on his brain, he didn’t need to see anything outside.

Once I was finished with my food, I unpacked the blood pressure monitor. I could feel Ford’s eyes on me when he sat down in one of the kitchen chairs after I asked him to, but I avoided looking at him. My body was screaming at me to take a taste of him while my mind told me to get as far away from him as I could, as fast as I could.

Since I wasn’t sure if I could take Ford’s blood pressure through his thick sweatshirt, I had him pull the sleeve up. But of course, with fate wanting to fuck with me as usual, the sleeve wouldn’t go up far enough, so Ford had to remove his shirt. I tried to ignore the sight of his muscled chest and abs like I had earlier in the day, but this time there was no rush to get him warm, so I wasn’t as easily distracted.

“Hold out your arm,” I murmured. I’d taken up the chair across from Ford so I could work the cuff over his bicep. For his part, Ford was strangely quiet. He literally hadn’t spoken to me since we’d left the hospital. But he hadn’t exactly mentally checked out, either, because I could feel his eyes on me.

Sparks danced through the tips of my fingers as I got the cuff on Ford’s arm. It took me three tries to get the damn thing secured. I practically slammed my thumb down on the button that would turn the thing on. But then I made the mistake of lifting my eyes.

Ford’s eyes were burning.

Not with anger.

Or confusion.

Or shame.

But desire.

Hard, hot, unabashed lust.

His breaths were coming in short little pants and his expression was pulled tight. His muscles were bunched and tense and his hands had curled into fists. If not for that look in his eyes, I would have thought he was pissed at me.

But I knew that look.

God, it would be so fucking easy just to lean forward and cover his mouth with mine. I knew he’d let me. And in my gut, I knew he wouldn’t stop me if I touched him. I couldn’t help but drop my eyes to his lap.

His cock flicked beneath his sweats. I could see the outline of his erection as the thick flesh jutted toward his hip bone. It wouldn’t take more than a touch or two to have him tenting the material. Hell, even now I could see his dick straining against the fabric a little more.

“Cam,” Ford whispered, his voice sounding strangled.

My own cock was rock hard, but luckily, I had jeans on. I couldn’t take my eyes off his dick as my own breathing became more shallow and my balls began tightening in anticipation. I could hear the moans Ford would make as I was driving into his body. He’d be so tight around me and he’d be calling my name, begging for—

The beeping of the blood pressure monitor forced me to rip my eyes from Ford’s groin. I practically knocked my chair over in my haste to stand and turn the sound off. Ford’s blood pressure was higher than it should be, but I knew that had absolutely nothing to do with the mild hypothermia he’d experienced. I tried to remember the things I was supposed to ask him that Sawyer had warned me to watch out for, but I couldn’t breathe, let alone talk.

My fingers shook as I reached for the cuff on his arm. I’d barely managed to get it off when he was standing up and pressing against me. The cuff and the little machine hit the floor. He didn’t touch me other than to line up our chests. Since he was a little shorter than me, his forehead came up to my chin. He hadn’t lifted his face, so his hot breath was washing over my throat. Then his hand was there, his fingers gently pressing against my racing pulse. My hand found its way to the back of his head. I threaded my fingers through his dark hair and tightened my grip just a little. Ford whimpered and allowed me to tilt his head back.