And then all the sudden, it ended. Chris swayed as Vin abruptly let go and moved away. Aside from the flush beneath his olive complexion and kiss-roughened lips, Chris saw none of the signs of devastation in the other man that Vin had ravaged in Chris in the wake of that kiss.

Bereft, cold, and in shock, Chris stared dumbly.

“That’ll work,” Vin murmured.

Chris commanded his lips to move, his voice to speak, and managed a loose-headed nod in place of words.

“Aw, damn. I didn’t put the dishes away. Since you did dinner, I’ll clean up, okay?”

“Uh-huh.” Where in God’s name was his voice? Vin’s tongue stole it, that’s where.

He should walk away. Go to bed. He should do something else besides stand around looking like an idiot.

Water turned on in the kitchen. Plates clinked together. The water shut off. “Tarp?”

“Yeah,” he answered, so grateful his voice had returned that he didn’t mind the huskiness.

“The sweats look better than that damn robe. Keep ’em.”

“I’m gonna,” Chris pointed down the hall, searching for the word he needed. Apparently, not all his words had found their way home. Not that Vin could see him pointing. “Sleep,” he said. “Gonna sleep.”

“Night.”

Perplexed, he looked toward the kitchen. “Night,” he answered.

Chris shook his head with wonder and confusion, then headed for his room. Where he laid in bed when Vin turned off the last light and shut his door. Where he continued to lay for another couple of hours, wondering what the fuck he was going to do now that Vin had permanently imprinted himself on Chris’ every waking thought.

“Fuck me,” he swore. “I’m screwed. I should just tell Vin I want him and get it over with.”

Vin would probably think Chris’ crush on him was funny. Or appalling. Chris had never been ashamed of his orientation, though, just guarded, and he wouldn’t start now. He threw back the covers, swung his feet to the floor, and marched to Vin’s room before he lost his nerve. Vin had a right to know that his gay partner wanted a piece of his ass. He’d be a little less careless with kissing Chris, but that would spare them both when the case ended.

Chris tapped on the door. “Vin, you awake?”

Chris entered his room soundlessly. Vin sprawled on his belly across one of the twin beds, naked. A streetlight glowed through the blinds to touch his body with a lover’s admiration, skimming the dips and silvering the rises. He slept with his face propped on folded arms allowing his black hair to spill like ink over his cheek, jaw and shoulders, reaching only the top of his back where the ends snaked in a twisted pattern on glowing skin.

Chris’ chest constricted with longing. Vin’s upper back sloped to a dip before the sudden rise of Vin’s round, sculpted ass. Chris’ gaze followed the perfect symmetry of Vin’s spine to the dark crevice hiding the sweet spot Chris wanted to nudge with his now insistent cock. Thick, rounded hamstrings, dimpled knee backs, wide square-ish calves to knobby ankles and pale soles shimmered in masculine beauty on twisted sheets.

As he watched, Vin bent a knee and shadows crept tantalizingly away from his upper thighs. Chris tried in vain, willed his eyes to adjust better than humanly possible, to see the sack nestled there.

“Vin?” he croaked.

Vin sighed in his sleep. Chris watched the light play on his ribs as they expanded and contracted on each deep breath.

“Shit. For a top detective, you sleep like the dead,” he whispered.

He sidled over to the bed. Like a kid unable to stop himself from reaching into the candy jar, Chris dragged the tips of his fingers from Vin’s shoulder blade to his hip. He hesitated, wanting to touch more, lower, but didn’t dare tease the sensitive skin of Vin’s cheeks and be caught doing it.

Closing his eyes to block Vin’s naked image, he managed to draw his hand back. “God, you are fucking magnificent.”

He left before he could change his mind and jumped back into his own bed. Pulling the covers up tightly under his chin, he turned away from the door to discourage himself from thinking about waking Vin with intimate caresses. Then he started counting sheep to distract himself.

Except the fence became Vin’s naked back, and the repetitive jumping of sheep turned into Chris dry-humping Vin’s ass.

Definitely not a sleep aid.

Chris sighed, picked up his pillow and crammed it over his exposed ear. How many weeks was this assignment going to run? Chris would deserve a fucking medal when it concluded, for his show of restraint.

Many more kisses from Vin, and he’d be the first wife in history to tent her own dress. Not to mention the cum stains-from the inside.

Something fuzzy touched his wrist. Chris flung his arm to dislodge whatever vermin had crawled into bed with him. The pillow joggled off the side of his head and he heard the distinct snick of cuffs closing.

“What the fuck?” Chris bellowed.

His arm yanked upward forcefully and Chris twisted around to see Vin loop the long chain joining furry cuffs around several thick spindles. Wide, warm chest filled Chris’ vision. In a disjointed link of reality and surreality, he tried to piece together what was happening with what he knew. His free wrist held down, it all came together in a matter of seconds when the final furry cuff closed and locked on his other wrist.

Vin sat back, surveying his work.

Chris tugged instinctively. Metal scrapped wood, but he couldn’t lower his arms.

“What the fuck?” he bellowed again.

“Actually, I don’t sleep like a rock,” Vin said.

Chris’ eyes widened, his heart kicked up in crazy tempo, and his ears rang with the realization that Vin had heard everything, and well enough to comment on the few words Chris had spoken. “Shit.”

Vin sat by Chris’ hip in dark silhouette.

Two nights on duty and Chris’ partner felt he had to cuff Chris in order to avoid sexual harassment in his sleep. That didn’t bode well. In fact, it sucked big and hairy.

“So now what? You going to leave me chained up all night to protect your modesty?” Chris asked.

Vin nodded. “Yeah, you’ll be chained up all night.” He stretched, reaching for something just out of Chris’ sight, and with a click, soft yellow lamp light filled the room.

Chris sucked in a sharp breath. Vin was still naked. And holy fucking missile silos, Vin was hard.

Vin reached behind him and dropped the orange makeup kit on Chris’ sheeted stomach. He arched a brow and pulled out the box of condoms and lube the agency boys and thrown in with Chris’ wardrobe.

His stomach twisted in knots. Did Vin pull them out in invitation or condemnation? “You already knew about those things. You saw the gag gifts before I did.”

Vin’s expression turned inscrutable. He rested his hands lightly on his massive thighs and seemed to wait for Chris to explain.

Chris licked his lips nervously. He tested the cuffs again. They rattled in the silence between them.

“You came into my room,” Vin said, after a moment.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Why did you come into my room?”

“I thought you’d be awake and I needed to tell you something about the case. I swear,” Chris explained. Foreboding etched worry in his belly.

Vin folded his arms across his chest and tucked his chin.

“I, uh-fuck man, not like this. At least allow me some dignity when I’m talking to you.” Annoyance gave Chris something to hang on to. To fight with.

“I’m waiting. Can’t image how the case has anything to do with touching me or commenting on my body.”

Chris searched his brain for an explanation that would make the truth more palatable to Vin. His silence answered guiltily for him.

“I thought about it after you left. Couldn’t come up with anything to explain it, case or no case, that didn’t sound sexual. I tried, Tarp. I tried to think of any possible meaning to that one, and couldn’t do it. S’why I’m here. Trying to get the truth. You gonna give it?” Vin asked.