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top of Remington s bag in the bottom of the wardrobe.
Actually, a shower s not a bad idea. Jamie grabbed a pair of jeans from the
drawer, a shirt, and fresh underwear. It wasn t as though they would be going
anywhere. The files had been delivered while Remington was out. Four large boxes of
them to be precise marked London, Hamburg, Phoenix, and Washington.
Padding across the room while he waited for his turn in the bathroom, Jamie
gazed out across the magnificent view of Hyde Park. God, he loved this town. The
sounds, the smells, just bloody everything. He knew that his mother thought he should
be attending more charity balls, more dinners, more society headlining events, but all
he wanted to do was live his life quietly in London, without all the hoypoloy that went
with his title. Yes, I can see you really hate to use your family s standing. Is that why we re
looking out onto Hyde Park instead of a brick wall? Jamie didn t have time to answer inner
Jamie as a rumbling moan emanated from behind the bathroom door. Followed by
what sounded like the squeaking of scrabbling fingers on tile.
For fuck s sake, what s he doing in there? Jamie pondered aloud as he strode
across the room to the door. Remington? Are you okay? There was no answer just the
sound of cascading water and another low moan, and he huffed in frustration. Bloody
moron s probably fallen on his arse. Hadn t you better go and pick him up then? Or do you
want to explain to the director why your partner died of hypothermia because you left him on
the bathroom floor?
Sighing heavily, Jamie slowly turned the handle and was met with a face full of
steam. An unbidden gasp left his lips as the steam cleared partially and he saw
Remington. Big, beautiful, should be on a billboard in a cowboy hat and jeans with a fag
hanging out of his mouth, Remington. Except he wasn t prostrate on the floor.
Jamie froze in the half open doorway as his gaze swept over Remington from top
to toe. The man was fucking gorgeous fully clothed, but naked, rivulets of water
dripping down that body and one of the most impressive cocks he had ever seen
fucking the man s clenched fist; he was breathtaking. He knew he should just close the
door as quietly as he could and back away, but he couldn t. There didn t appear to be
enough blood left in his brain to make any coherent decisions, as it was rapidly pooling
in his cock as it swelled against his zip.
He couldn t drag his gaze away from the pleasure on Remington s face, a deep
primal need to be the one who produced that look unfurled low in his belly. Jamie s
tongue snaked out to moisten his suddenly dry lips, and he palmed his own erection
through his clothes, trying to remind his errant cock that this was bad etiquette. But
somehow, he didn t think his cock gave a shit and neither did he as he watched the big
man bring himself off with a guttural moan and a load that made him want to applaud.
Then those lust blown hazel eyes opened and it was too late to make his retreat as
Remington stared straight at him.
Clearing his throat, Jamie mumbled lamely, I heard a noise. He still didn t
move as Remington raised a sardonic eyebrow, cleaned himself of his seed, and then
turned off the shower. Nor did he leave when the man opened the shower door and
grabbed a towel off the rack, wrapping it around his waist to cover his half hard cock
from Jamie s view. Thought you d fallen, he added as Remington paused in the
doorway and gazed pointedly at Jamie to move out of his way. At which point Jamie s
feet finally responded to the signals his brain was rapidly sending and he skittered past
Remington into the bathroom, his cheeks filling with warmth at Remington s heavy
drawl of, Shower s free.
Closing the bathroom door, Jamie leaned his head against it and closed his eyes.
Holy shit! I am in big trouble.
* * *
Fuck, I am in big trouble. Remy closed his eyes and leaned against the bathroom
door, willing his heart to stop trying to hammer out of his chest. Thank God, Jamie had
been dressed, because if he d had to look at all that tall, dark, and bend me over& well,
he would have done just that.
Christ, he didn t even know for certain the man was gay. Of course he s gay. He
looked ready to lick your pop, didn t he? Oh shut up, he told his inner voice. It had taken
every bit of internal fortitude to walk out of that bathroom without dropping to his
knees to worship at the altar of Jamie.
When the sound of the shower invaded his thoughts, Remy pushed away from
the bathroom door, and went to dress. It was time to do what he d come here for. He
needed to find those boys. He pulled on a pair of well worn jeans and a fresh T shirt
and moved to the living room to get started.
He began with the carton labeled Phoenix. He sliced open the red strip of tape
and folded back the flaps of the box. A thick layer of bubble wrap protected a slim
laptop computer. Underneath the electronics was a stack of unfamiliar manila folders
bearing familiar names. His official police computer. Copies of his case files. A US
Senator at their disposal. He d always thought of INTERPOL as not much more than an
efficiently run international databank. In a little more than twenty four hours, Director
Forsythe had collected everything she needed to conduct a covert investigation,
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