Don't Look Back

Don't Look Back by Josh Lanyon Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: Don't Look Back by Josh Lanyon Read Free Book Online
Authors: Josh Lanyon
enlightenment.
    "Nah, no problem,” Donnelly said. In an apparent spirit of helpfulness, he added to the police, “No way is the boss trying to pull a stunt like this. He just got out of the hospital. It's natural he'd be jumpy."
    This, reasonably, led to explanation about how Peter had landed in the hospital to begin with, and by the time the cops finally drove away, Peter was sure they were convinced he was either a nut seeking attention or a criminal who had just outsmarted himself. Either way ... not good.
    Donnelly also departed, promising to patrol the grounds every hour, and Peter finally turned out the lights and returned to bed, where he spent the remainder of the night tossing and turning—and sitting up every time a floorboard creaked.
    * * * *
    It was a relief to open his eyes to sunlight.
    The morning was growing warm by the time Peter woke, still tired and a little groggy, and for a few moments he rested in the clean cotton sheets, listening to the sweet birdsong, the lulling rustle of leaves outside the open window, the hiss of sprinklers. Drowsily, his fingers fumbled with buttons of his pajama pants, reaching inside, touching the velvet warmth of his genitals. He comforted himself with the familiar motions, using the pearl of moisture at the head of his cock to slick his strokes.
    Cole, he thought. Cole...
    But, unsettlingly, it was Detective Griffin's face that kept interposing itself between Peter and the fantasy Cole. He closed his eyes against the image of Griffin's lean, hard face, the stormy blue eyes so different from Cole's bright blue gaze. Griffin was the last person he wanted to think of.
    Especially in this context.
    So how weird was it that he couldn't help wondering what it would be like with him? Did he have some hitherto-undiscovered kink for S and M? Because it was impossible to picture Griffin being anything but the most brief and brutal of lovers.
    The weird thing was his increasing certainty that Griffin was gay. From where had that conviction arisen? Griffin had said nothing to indicate his sexual inclinations, had he? Did Peter have any reason to think Griffin was anything but heterosexual—and God help the woman involved with that bastard.
    But ... had he and Cole ever really done this? Done anything? The dreams were so vivid, so real, but...
    A glance at the clock warned him he was going to be late. Punctuality being something apparently hardwired into him.
    He moved his hand faster, just the right grip, the right angle ... the quiet relief of his hand pumping in steady rhythm that was almost reverie ... pumping ... and then the fiercely sweet outcry—hot, wet ejaculation splattering belly and thighs, soaking into the thin cotton of his pajamas.
    He closed his eyes, feeling that release echoing through his overstrung nerves and body, and then rolled out of bed heading for the shower.
    It was when he opened the medicine cabinet looking for shaving cream that he spotted the small brown bottle of Zoloft. His name was on the prescription.
    What the hell? Antidepressants? Maybe they made sense now that his life was falling apart, but before he got whacked on the head?
    For a second or two, he stared down at the bottle, trying to reconcile the drugs with what he knew about himself—what he felt he knew, anyway. In the end he was forced to conclude it was simply another mystery.
    He dressed in a white tailored shirt—he seemed to have an endless supply of them—and brown trousers, breakfasted on Danish and coffee, and walked up to the museum.
    The parking lot was empty, the building still locked. He let himself inside and stood there gazing in dismay at the blinking red light of the alarm system. And then, quite easily, the code came to him and he punched it in.
    The green light flicked on.
    The relief was almost as overwhelming as the previous panic. He was remembering. It was all coming back. First in bits and pieces, and now in greater chunks of recollection.
    He unlocked his office

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