Ash shook his head in shame. “You’re so whipped, man.”
Sloane let out a snort. “Whatever. Like you’re not wrapped around Cael’s little finger.”
“Shut up.”
“No, you shut up.”
“You pushed me down the fucking stairs,” Ash grumbled.
“I said I was sorry,” Sloane huffed. “What do you want, a cuddle? Do you want a cuddle, Ash?”
“No.”
“Good, because you’re not getting one.” Sloane rubbed his face against Dex’s T-shirt. “Mm, you smell good.”
Right. Clearly the two hadn’t fully recovered. “Children, please.” Dex ran his fingers through Sloane’s hair and gave his brow a kiss. “Finish your juice boxes, and then it’s time for a nap.”
“I’m going home.” Ash got up, grabbed the bag with his clothes, and started to get dressed. Having Ash naked in his bedroom was beyond disturbing. The guy had absolutely no modesty. When he was done, he called Dex over. “Help me downstairs. I’ll call a cab outside.”
“I can drive you,” Dex offered, receiving a shake of his head from Ash.
“Just help me downstairs.”
Weird, but okay. He accompanied Ash out of the bedroom, wondering why Ash had asked for his help if every time he tried to take Ash’s arm, the guy told him to fuck off. Giving up, he followed Ash downstairs and to the door, startled when Ash pulled him closer.
“Um….” Hello, Weirdsville.
“Keep an eye on him,” Ash said quietly. “If it happens again, call me.”
Dex eyed him. “You know something.”
Ash looked like he was considering not telling Dex, but something in Dex’s expression must have made him change his mind because he let out a heavy sigh. “It happened once to a Defense agent years ago. First Gen. He lost it while in his Therian form. Ended up injuring some of his teammates. Almost killed one of them.”
“Jesus, what happened to him?”
“These huge-ass dudes tranqed him and took him away. We were told he was fine, recuperating somewhere, but I don’t know. We never heard from him again. Either way, I’m not letting the same thing happen to Sloane. You might want to consider talking to Shultzon at some point. The guy knows more about First Gens than anyone, especially us.”
“Okay.” Shit. He hated to admit it, but there was still so much he didn’t know about the THIRDS or First Gens. Their DNA was supposed to be stable. First the purring while in Human form, now this.
“And if you insist on going through with tonight, call Rosa. Ask her to come stay with him. I don’t think he should be on his own.”
They finally agreed on something. “I will. See you tonight.”
Ash gave him a nod and was off.
Dex was glad he had the rest of the day to spend with Sloane before the meeting. He really didn’t want to leave tonight, but he was eager to get this damn case over with. He’d give Rosa a call later. Right now, all he wanted was to be in Sloane’s arms. He took the stairs two at a time and stopped in the doorway. Sloane was lying against his pillows, dressed once again in his pajama bottoms and T-shirt. The bed was still rumpled, but Sloane had obviously smoothed the sheets as best he could. He was gazing up at the ceiling, his eyebrows drawn together with worry. At least he’d recovered from postshift trauma. Seeming to sense him, Sloane met his gaze and patted the mattress beside him.
“I’m sorry.”
“No.” Dex shook his head and climbed onto the bed. “We’re not going down that road, okay? Clearly whatever happened was because of me. I’m not surprised I’ve pushed you that far.”
“Not funny,” Sloane muttered, frowning at him.
“It wasn’t meant to be. You’ve got enough shit going on without me stressing you out even more.” They both knew what he was alluding to, but Dex was grateful when Sloane didn’t get into it. Sloane had to know what he was up to, though Dex couldn’t fathom why he was pretending otherwise.
“What if I’d hurt you? What if I’d—” Sloane lowered his gaze to the bandage on Dex’s arm and his eyes widened. “I did hurt you.”
Dex shrugged. “It’s okay. I kind of like it.” Sloane narrowed his eyes, and Dex quickly held a hand up. “Not in a kinky I-want-you-to-use-me-as-a-scratching-post sort of way. It’s like you’ve left your mark on me.” Dex reached out and ran his thumb over the tattoo on the left side of Sloane’s neck marking him as a jaguar Therian.