Six Degrees of Lust (40 page)

commitment were not an option for Sam.

But that didn’t stop Mac from wishing sometimes.

284 Taylor V. Donovan

He parked his truck in front of the gym and rested his head on

the back of the seat. He needed to think things through, analyze

Sam’s email, and somehow put things back into perspective

so that he could make a cerebral decision as opposed to an

emotional one.

Five days. It was enough time to seduce Sam… To get him to

relax and maybe let go of his control a little…

But what the hell was Sam really thinking?

Mac got the part about the trip being paid for already and

their having to meet somewhere. As far as he was concerned, they

could go to goddamn Timbuktu as long as he got to fuck the sexy

guy and they had a comfortable bed big enough to accommodate

them both, so Miami was as good a place as any.

What he didn’t get was Sam’s bringing up his wish to

experience the gay lifestyle and how many possibilities South

Beach offered in that particular aspect. The guy was territorial.

It was a personality trait so much ingrained in him that Mac

had been able to pick up on it just from conversations that had

nothing to do with their deal. Granted they were nothing but

fuck buddies, but the fact remained Sam wasn’t sharing him.

So what was he getting at now?

Mac grabbed his cell phone and pulled Sam’s number. He

needed answers and he wanted them immediately.

§ § § §

Sam leaned back in his chair and turned a page on the written

report he was reading while listening to the verbal report the

team was receiving from Mik on the Leviticus case.

The van with the “Chosen Trash Removal” logo had not

been seen anywhere near the more recent murder locations. No

sighting of it in any toll plaza footage, either. It had been seen

several times in Staten Island, but not in the past month. Lev had

most likely disposed of it.

“Peter,” or their person of interest, was positively identified

by twelve different witnesses when shown the sketch. Police

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departments from three different states were now collaborating

on the investigation, and Sam was more than fine with that, even

if his team had jurisdiction of the case. He’d take any help he

could get, because there were lots of bad guys out there, and just

six of them. They could only be spread so thin.

Autopsy reports revealed traces of flesh colored silicone in

the victims’ mouths, throats and lungs that matched the ones

previously found on the Tri-State area victims. Cause of death

was asphyxia again. Add that to the lacerations in the mouth area

and a few missing teeth and it’d be safe to say they were probably

looking at some gigantic dildo as their official murder weapon.

They still couldn’t trace the origin of the canvas and paint Lev

used, but Mik and Zane were looking all over for any possible

matches to the stenciled font he preferred.

“Ten bodies,” Sam heard Duncan say in a grim tone. “And

only God knows how many more if the Texas murders turn out

to have any relation to ours. We need for this psycho to make a

mistake. Any second now would be great.”

“Did you hear back from that other detective on the case?”

Sam asked. Detective Eric Callahan was still out on medical

leave, but that hadn’t stopped him from contacting his superior

and trying to get the information they needed through different

channels. “What’s his name… Mitchell. He’s Callahan’s new

partner. He asked for a few days to put everything together and

fax it over to me.”

“Nothing yet,” Duncan said. “I’ve gotten more information

from news articles than I have from Mitchell.”

“Call him again,” Sam ordered, pissed at what was starting to

feel like a damn game. “And if you don’t hear from him within

the next two days, get ready to pay Houston PD a visit.”

“If you’re still getting information from other states the final

number could very well be way higher than you suspect,” Zane

said. He and Bobbi weren’t officially working on the Leviticus

case, but they tried to keep up with it as much as they could.

“What about the Landon Phillips guy?”

286 Taylor V. Donovan

“Still missing in action,” Logan said. “We’re looking into his

real estate and whereabouts for the past few months. He owns

houses in Atlanta, Myrtle Beach, New Jersey, and Long Island.

The guy could be anywhere.”

Landon Phillips was not quite a suspect, but after finding out

that his wife had been killed by a homosexual teen that was blond,

slim, about 5’7” and pierced, Logan and Duncan had been on the

artist like flies on shit. The boy had been sent to a rehabilitation

facility instead of jail, and it was common knowledge that Phillips

felt justice hadn’t been served. Phillips was also average looking

and had brown hair.

For the team, that translated to motive and physical

resemblance to “Peter,” so they were looking into it.

Having Duncan and Logan stop by Metaphora, the gallery

Sam’s ex-wife co-owned with Logan’s new friend, had paid off.

“On a positive note, we gathered the last evidence we needed

on the Mathews case and should be making some arrests by the

end of the week,” said Bobbie, in an attempt to cheer them all

up a little. The Leviticus case was without a doubt their priority,

but they still had several other cases they were working on

simultaneously that needed to be discussed.

“Excellent.” Sam scribbled a few notes on the report he was

reading and grabbed the next one. “What about the Brently file?”

“We got the subpoenas we were waiting for. We’ll head over

to their headquarters and get the documents we need now if

we’re done here.” He glanced at Bobbie and then at his phone

when it started to vibrate on the conference table, grabbing it

immediately when he saw the name on the display.

“We’re done.” He put the files down and pressed answer.

“Give me one second,” he said into the receiver before addressing

Bobbie again. “You guys give me a call if you need anything,

okay?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Bobbie and Zane left the squad room, Mik went back to her

computers, and Duncan announced he was going for coffee.

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287

Logan just stared at him with a highly annoying mischievous glint

in his blue-gray eyes, a sign that he’d seen the name on Sam’s

phone.

Great.

He walked over to the window and looked outside, refusing

to let his friend see him having this conversation. Certain things a

man needed to keep private, like his facial expression if a carefully

worded invitation happened to get turned down.

“Hello?”

“Are you sayin’ you want to show me the ropes or that I can

go and do some explorin’ on my own if I get bored being with

you?”

“What in the world gave you that idea?” he growled, not taking

the time to school his reaction. The last thing he’d expected was

for Mac to make stupid assumptions like that.

“Could be you mentioning all the possibilities South Beach

has to offer right before sayin’ we don’t have to be joined at the

hip.”

“I thought you’d like that.”

“Like what? Having the option to hook up with other men?”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“Is it possible for you to not answer my questions with your

own?” Mac sounded annoyed, confused, and confrontational, all

at the same time. “Are you changing the rules?”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because you got tired or changed your mind… I don’t know

Sam. You tell me.”

Far from it, but of course he wasn’t saying that. “I’m not

tired.” He lowered his voice, trying to keep both Logan and Mik

from overhearing his side of the conversation. “We discussed

this before. You want to get your wild on, I’m fine with it. But

you’re only doing it with me.”

“Because you don’t want me swappin’ spit with anybody else.”

288 Taylor V. Donovan

Sam narrowed his eyes at the challenge in the other man’s

tone. “You’re damn right I don’t.” Mac could go and make

whatever he wanted out of his response. He was busy trying not

to murder the imaginary potential lovers he constantly saw Mac

getting with. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Shit. Was Mac saying he wanted to be with other guys? Was

he the one tired of their arrangement after only a few hook ups?

“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.” Sam

heard him take a deep breath and did the same. He just couldn’t

understand. Why was it that things got out of hand so quickly

with the Texan? Nothing was ever as simple as it should be.

“And are we?” All of a sudden Sam had a feeling they might

be on the same page, but at some point their book had changed.

“Yeah… We swap spit exclusively and I’m fine with it.”

Sam narrowed his eyes again, ready to object to that statement.

Technically it was the truth, but something about it raised his

hackles like nothing had in a few months. He was still trying to

figure out what to say when he heard Mac again. “I’ll pay for half

of the trip.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Sam…”

“This is not negotiable, Tex.” He hadn’t thought about

it before, but now that Mac had brought it up, Sam knew he

wouldn’t take one cent from the big guy. If Mac agreed to go,

Sam was footing the bill. It was something that for reasons he

didn’t care to analyze he felt he had to do. And he wanted to.

“I don’t—”

“Don’t fight me on this.”

“Okay.” He could tell Mac was confused by the whole thing.

Shit. He was confused himself. What the hell was he doing?

“Okay, I won’t. Thanks.”

He rubbed his face and took a deep breath, relieved Mac had

said yes. “Don’t mention it.”

“I want to visit an amusement park.” Sam smiled both at the

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request and Mac’s enthusiasm when it came to rides from hell.

His guy had told him at some point that the higher and faster, the

better. But he hated planes. Made no sense whatsoever to Sam.

“Roller coasters, right?”

“Yeah.”

“We can do whatever you want.” And he meant that. It was

time Mac got to enjoy himself a bit.

“Send me your flight information and I’ll make sure we get in

around the same time.”

“All right.”

“And can you make sure the room is 515?”

“What’s up with you and that number anyway?” he asked,

remembering Mac had booked the same room the three times

he’d been to New York.

“Lucky number… plus it’s my birthday,” he admitted in a low

voice.

“Your…” Sam closed his mouth for a second and started

again. “That first time we… it was your birthday?”

“I turned thirty-one.”

“You should’ve said something.” Why, Sam didn’t have a clue,

as at the time Mac was just the guy he was going to fuck and leave

behind, but he would liked to have known.

“It ain’t a big deal.” Sam could picture Mac shrugging his

huge shoulders and it dawned on him that, considering the

kitten’s history and family situation, it probably hadn’t been. That

was just wrong.

“That date is significant to me as well for a couple of

reasons,” he finally said, not surprised he was sharing yet some

more personal information with Mac. Sam didn’t seem to be able

to shut his mouth around the guy.

“Care to share any?”

“It was the day I was sworn in to the FBI and presented with

my badge, for starters.”

290 Taylor V. Donovan

“Well, that’s a coincidence!”

It was also the day it’d been decided Sandy and Nicky were

staying with him for a while, changing his life probably forever…

and he’d gotten with the kitten for the first time on May fifteen…

Not that having sex with Mac was significant.

At all.

“Listen, I gotta get back to work. We’ll talk details later, okay?”

“Before you go, I wanted to ask…”

“Yeah?” He urged him to finish, because Mac sometimes

started asking or saying something only to stop mid-sentence

when he realized he shouldn’t have. It drove Sam crazy. He

couldn’t stop trying to guess whatever had been going on in

Mac’s head. His damn inquisitive nature never shut down.

“Everything okay with Nicky?” the guy finally asked.

“Yeah… He’s fine.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“Thanks for asking.”

And he was only verbalizing appreciation because he had

manners, but in all reality he was wishing he could deck Mac for

not minding his own business and always getting Sam to talk.

The man knew way too much about him and his life as it was,

way too much.

“Talk later, darlin’.”

“Later.” Sam disconnected the call, took a deep breath

and turned around to find Logan’s eyes glued to him. “Christ,