A Matter Of Necessity Read online

  "Give me a chance. I can prove it." Strong lips along his jawline sped his breathing. "That's all I'm asking, pet. Give me time to prove how much I love you."

  Alex wanted to believe. If it were true...his career in ruins wouldn't matter so much.

  Shawn pressed their lips together again. "Let me. What have you got to lose?"

  What indeed? Not his career. Not his reputation. Both were ashes burned away on the witness stand. His pride? Rubble on the floor of a restaurant. What was left? Only his heart and his sanity. Shawn's teeth pulled at his earlobe. "God, I do love you." His arms came up to hold the other man closer.

  Ah, so all that really remained was his sanity, and it hung on by a precarious finger.

  "Let me, beautiful."

  Madness then. So be it.

  * * * *

  Shawn stood just inside the door of the bedroom, still for what seemed the first time all day.

  "What?" After all that downstairs, Alex was hardly prepared for such an abrupt stop to the incessant seduction Shawn had practiced for the last few weeks.

  "It's perfect. Just the way I envisioned it." Shawn's attention strayed to the king-size bed. "If your sheets are blue, I'm in heaven."

  "What?" Alex thought it hard enough to understand when Shawn went off into dialect, but now he found English beyond his comprehension.

  The full-wattage grin shone on the Aussie's boyishly handsome face. "You can't have any idea how many times I've thought about your bedroom. I've wanted to stand in it. See what it felt like, how it looked." He pulled Alex close again. "How it smelled." His lips played over Alex's throat. "It smells like you and it feels like you, too." He moaned and nipped at the delicate skin with blunt teeth. "Though I have to admit, I never saw the modern lines of the house as you. The antiques are perfect, but the rest just seems too hard for you, love. You need something two hundred years old."

  "I can't afford something two hundred years old." Alex let the feel of warm breath on his neck stoke the fire inside him. "In any case, I like the openness. I can breathe without being hemmed in."

  Shawn's soft laugh sank into Alex's stomach, easing the hard knot there. "That's what you liked about the loft, too. You said you could breathe when we were alone. Let me help you breathe that way again." He sucked at Alex Adam's apple. "Let me make love to you like I did there. I've missed you so much."

  That sentiment wasn't exactly one-sided. There were innumerable reasons Alex couldn't sleep or eat or maintain a coherent thought that didn't center on Shawn and hadn't for two months. Now each word, each touch burned his skin, even through layers of clothing. The sweet, whispered torment continued.

  "I want your arms around me, Alex. In your bed. God, I've fantasized about being in your bed."

  No more than Alex had. His heart sped.

  Shawn's lips ground against his, hungry, devouring what little resistance he had. "I want you inside me. I want to be flat on my back so I can see your face when you come. I adore that. Seeing you like that." He pushed Alex's coat away from his shoulders, hands warm through the linen of Alex's shirt.

  So familiar, so right. The fire gathered in Alex's center shot out, racing through him, burning away sanity and common sense. His fingers tangled in silky brown hair, long and sleek the way the false Shawn Wyatt had worn it. The way his lover had worn it.

  He forgot about the pain and the terror and crushed his lips against Shawn's, tugging at that too-colorful tie, wanting bare skin. Frantic movement and sharp declarations of exactly what he wanted flowed from him. Only when they were both stripped of pretension and clothing, Shawn stretched out on blue-gray sheets that made him groan at a fantasy fulfilled, only then did Alex pause to take in the glory of his lover.

  And Shawn was glorious, his nearly perfect body tanned and toned and utterly masculine. Pure desire stood hard between his muscular thighs and glowed in his eyes. Strong arms welcomed Alex when he covered that buffed body with his own. Babbled nonsense about true love and belonging drifted from Shawn's lips when Alex sank into heated passion. Shawn's body grip him as tightly as the powerful legs wrapped around his shoulders. Alex couldn't hold back, couldn't keep anything from his lover, not when Shawn begged for everything inside him with declarations of unending love. It couldn't be real, but for just a little while he could pretend it was.

  Chapter 5

  * * *

  "Well, no. Of course I have no idea where you put them. If you'd attempt a bit of organization, you wouldn't spend so much of your time trying to find things you use all the time." Alex fiddled with a pen while Shawn insisted over the phone connection he hadn't done anything unusual with his house keys.

  "Yes, I'm sure if you weren't driving my car you'd have your keys. That would be because you'd have yours in the ignition instead of mine. Honestly." Alex rolled his eyes.

  "Yeah, well, I got distracted pulling these out of your pocket. Getting my hands in your pants turns my brain to goo." Even over the phone the lust heated the air.

  "Shawn!" Alex shook his head. "You know they record all calls now."

  "Yeah, so they have confirmation I think your crotch is hot. It's not like I keep that a big secret. But seriously, love, I'm going to have to break into my own apartment. Let Mark know I'll be longer than I thought."

  "Of course." He couldn't help smiling. Shawn really had no reason to call him. He could have called Mark just as easily, but insisted he'd much rather listen to Alex's voice. The last month had been like that. From the moment Alex had taken the other man into his bed again it had been some sort of fantasy. That initial morning after was only the first of many when Shawn showed up at the office in one of Alex's shirts and the same suit he'd worn the day before because he'd spent the night in Alex's arms. Considering Shawn's greater bulk, it was a damned good thing Alex liked his shirts on the large side.

  David commented once, but after finding the reason for Shawn's fashion faux pas, never mentioned it again. Just like he didn't say anything about Shawn getting Alex his first cup of coffee every morning nor did he admit knowing the two men slipped off to a camera-free corner of the stairwell for what Shawn termed a bit of pashing in their rare free moments.

  Alex found himself feeling sorry for the Midwesterner. Especially since Shawn seemed to have some sort of deep-seated need to shock David. Overall, Alex was rather impressed with how well David handled it, relatively speaking. Of course, in typical fashion, it could just be that David pretended none of it existed.

  As did Mark, as happily head-in-the-sand as David. Terri seemed to have decide it was all "too cute for words" as she described it and cooed about the romantic aspects of it, especially when word came down from the very top that Alex's transfer was denied because he and Shawn were more useful as a couple for the Ronnecker case. The unit would stay intact with the blessing of the FBI hierarchy; the romance sanctioned in the name of national security.

  Even Maddy was easier to deal with, though Alex's ego might never fully recover from her patting his arm in sympathy before declaring that she understood now that he couldn't really commit to any one woman, even her. It was all because he'd been gay and just didn't realize it.

  "Look, love, want to go out to dinner tonight? Not that you aren't a great cook, but we haven't been anywhere in weeks. I'm tired of take-out, too. Let me splurge and take you somewhere nice."

  "This goes back to that theory you have of taking me out so you can get some, doesn't it?"

  "Yeah. It's working, too. All nice and proper and the way life's supposed to be."

  Alex shook his head and settled back, his feet on his desk, ankles crossed. "I thought you were breaking into your house."

  "I am. I'm capable of breaking and entering while I'm flirting with you, beautiful. I... Bloody fuck!" Sharp pops brought Alex's feet crashing to the floor. Those couldn't be...

  "Shots fired! Shit! I'm hit. God damn it! Alex! Alex, I'm..." The connection went silent.

  "Shawn! Shawn!" Alex surged to his feet. "Someone's shootin
g at him. He's hit. I've got to get to him."

  Mark rocketed from behind Terri's desk. "Whoa, big guy. Maddy! Call PD and get them over to Shawn's place ASAP."

  "He's hit? Maddy, make sure they know an agent is down. Get me hooked up to whoever's responding." David's voice snapped like a drill sergeant's as he lunged to his feet.

  Maddy nodded, phone pressed to her ear. "They're on their way already. Three cars in the immediate area and more behind them. Ambulance and EMTs on the way."

  Mark's substantial bulk blocked Alex. "At this time of day with traffic, they'll get there ten times faster than you can."

  Alex didn't want to acknowledge the truth of that statement, but he had to. His mind segmented into the agent half which was already going over every nano-second of what he could hear of the attack and the personal half which screamed amid arctic terror. "It wasn't an automatic weapon. I could hear defined spaces between each shot. Semi-automatic. Probably from cover. Shawn didn't say anything about seeing someone suspicious. He just..." The personal began to overwhelm the professional. "He just said he was hit."

  The edges of the room dimmed. Hit where? How badly? How many times? He closed his eyes against the vision of Shawn limp on the stoop of his building, blood pooled about him, those laughing blue eyes lackluster and empty of all life. "Mark!"

  "We're on it, Alex. As much as we can be. He'll be halfway to the hospital before you can get there. David, Terri, you're headed to the scene. I'll take Alex to wherever they take Shawn."

  And if they took him nowhere because he lay on his stoop dead? Alex couldn't say it. If he did it might be real.

  * * * *

  Nothing had ever been more beautiful than Shawn's smile, even in an emergency room scattered with bloody clothes and gauze. His lover was alive and awake and Alex thought he might just pass out from pure relief.

  Whatever Shawn said flowed over him without any real meaning; all Alex heard was the sound of his beloved's voice. He wanted to gather Shawn up, hold him tight, but IV tubes and a doctor applying tiny white butterfly bandages to his thigh made it impossible.

  "Okay, your questions will have to wait. I've said no police in here until I'm done." The doctor barely glanced at Alex.

  Shawn grinned and held out a hand to Alex. He rushed to take it, some part of him afraid his fingers would pass through it like mist. It felt reassuringly solid in his grasp.

  Shawn's expression turned impish. "He isn't the police. But he is the FBI. He's also my boyfriend."

  The doctor's glance lasted all of three seconds. "It's always the good looking ones with decent jobs." She went back to her healing.

  Shawn let his head drop back and winked up at Alex. "I'm alright, love. A couple of scratches. One on my arm and one on my leg. And, no, I have no idea who. They were shooting from a house across the street, the one that's empty and for sale. I didn't see a thing." The grin didn't falter. "The bastard killed my cell phone though. I dropped it when my arm took the hit and it shattered."

  Alex could only smile and listen to Shawn complain about the loss of the bit of technology while his mind raced and fear clenched and unclenched his stomach. Two wounds. Superficial, but capable of being so much worse so easily. Someone had tried to kill his Shawn!

  "You alright, love? What's the matter?

  Of all the inane...! "Someone tried to murder you. I've spent the last hour and a half not knowing what as going on or how serious your injuries were, or even where you were." Even now he felt chilled to his core, his fingers icy not from the winter winds outside but from pure terror. "Sweetheart! I didn't know if you were alive for nearly an hour!" The absolute longest hour he'd ever endured.

  "What did you say?" Shawn's hand tightened on his.

  "I said I didn't know if you survived the shooting.

  "No, not that. You called me sweetheart." A glorious smile burst out. "You've never called me that. You've never used an endearment for me at all before."

  Alex experienced another of those slack-jaw moments that were becoming a daily occurrence in Life Since Shawn. "You could have been murdered and you're excited I called you sweetheart? You're obsessed, you realize that, don't you? You need to seek clinical help."

  Shawn laughed. "Naw. I just need you to call me sweetheart more often. Say it again?"

  Alex looked at the attending physician for help. He remembered her as a sensible, no-nonsense woman from the time he'd been grazed by a bullet. But she only shrugged. "Well, in general I feel keeping the patient calm is best. So I'd suggest you stop being such a stereotypical macho guy and call your boyfriend sweetheart."

  Oh the irony. He'd like her excessively if she wasn't so much like him. It was all to the good they were in a hospital since Alex's gaze could easily injure when he wished. At the moment he wished. Apparently she was of sterner stuff than the average mortal and survived to chuckle and place a bandage over her handiwork.

  "Come on, love." Shawn tugged Alex's hand. "Give us a right proper pash."

  "He's also somewhat drugged." The doctor's addition was hardly necessary. "Nothing major, just a bit of codeine for the pain."

  Pain. The fear and anger returned. Shawn hurt because some cowardly, sneaking bastard shot him. Alex leaned over to press a kiss that had nothing to do with desire on Shawn's smiling lips. "Sweetheart."

  Sometimes he forgot why he'd destroyed his life to be with this man. Then his lover looked at him as if Alex were the most valuable and rare item on the planet. Alex held tight to that which for an interminable hour he'd feared he'd lost forever.

  * * * *

  The doctor's assurance Shawn would be fine gave Alex little peace. His panic wouldn't ebb away, but rage was rapidly overtaking it. He glowered at the detective who finally arrived to take Shawn's statement, all the more when the man kept looking at him oddly and eventually asked him to leave the room so he could talk to Shawn alone.

  He paced the hall, arguing with Mark that his gated neighborhood was safe from snipers. If the Bureau wanted to place a guard over Shawn, he was perfectly fine with that. But Alex would be with Shawn regardless of where they decided to send the Australian. Eventually he was allowed to take Shawn home in a borrowed car, reaching out over and over to assure his lover really was beside him and not dead on a quiet residential street.

  It improved his feeling none at all when his unit was cut off from the investigation so thoroughly even David's sources dried up. A week became two and then three. Shawn's wounds healed, but Alex's fears grew. Jokes about kissing them better were well and good, but he worried whenever Shawn was out of his sight. Someone wanted to take away the one thing he had left and he couldn't do a damned thing about it.

  * * * *

  "Shawn! We're going to be late. Come on." Alex sighed in exasperation as he leaned against the edge of Maddy's desk. "Punctuality is a virtue you know. And you could use a few more."

  "Keep your shirt on, mate." Shawn fiddled with a file. "Though, if you'd take it off I might have a reason to hurry over there."

  Alex shook his head and tried to fight the grin. How did you argue with someone who turned everything into a come-on or a declaration of love? "Yes, well..."

  "Ware?"

  Alex turned to greet the agent handling Shawn's shooting. "Grey! Have you found something at last? Really, a brother agent under fire, I'd think you'd have at least a person of interest by now."

  The older agent nodded. "We have. I'd like to ask you some questions, Ware. You might want to call your lawyer."

  * * * *

  Alex's mind flew in a thousand directions as Grey glowered at Shawn across the somber length of the interrogation room. "You need to leave, Matthews."

  "This is bullshit and you know it. Alex did not hire someone one to kill me." Shawn's hand settled on his lover's shoulder, gripping it. "There is no way in hell that could ever happen. For one thing, if Alex wanted me dead he'd do it himself, face to face. For another..." His face went soft. "He doesn't want me dead, just naked."

&
nbsp; So much surety under the joke, not even a hint Shawn believed Alex could be in any way involved. It warmed Alex and kept him from getting up and punching Grey.

  "Look, we have the sniper and he's cooperating. Shooting a federal agent is a big deal and he knows it. So he's named the guy who hired him. You, Ware. He has evidence linking you." Grey's craggy face twisted in disgust.

  "Well, whatever it is, it's not real. It's fabricated." Shawn gave Alex's shoulder a squeeze. "And there's no motive. Alex only threatens to beat me for not putting the cap back on the toothpaste, not kill me."

  "You're supposed to be helping." Alex couldn't resist tilting his head up to smile at Shawn, who took the opportunity to nearly devour Alex in a passionate, deep kiss.

  "Matthews!" Grey's patience ran out. "Ware, you stay right here. If it wasn't that the upper levels said handle you with kid gloves, your ass would be under arrest right now. So give me an excuse." He pointed at Shawn. "You, outside. I need to show you a few things."

  Long minutes passed, isolation giving Alex the time to think...and worry. Some scum shot Shawn and then had the nerve to implicate Alex. Of course that meant only one thing. Ronnecker. No one else had that sort of a mad on for him. If he went to prison who would protect Shawn? This could so easily finish them both. If there were enough proof to indict and convict, how would they live through it? It would destroy the Aussie if he believed Alex had tried to do away with him.

  Alex's insides went chill. What sort of evidence could Grey have? Was it enough to convince Shawn that Alex might be involved? How deep did his lover's trust really run? How could their newly-renewed togetherness survive such suspicion! When Alex managed to prove this all a ruse, if he managed to do so, how would his relationship with his partner survive?

  He lowered his head to rest on his clasped hand on the table top. Dear God, had Ronnecker already won?

  The door opened with a thunderous clap, Shawn storming in. "We're going home."