Page 19 of Operation Daddy

In some ways, Fletch confused him. He felt as though they had been playing cat and mouse forever. Now, suddenly, Fletch was caught and all in. They felt too good to be true.

When July didn’t respond, Fletch shuffled closer. His eyes hooded, turning into bedroom eyes. “Touch me and see for yourself.”

July’s mouth went dry. So much for not thinking about sex. His pulse pounded in his ears. There was no way Fletch didn’t hear him internally coming unglued. Fletch had given his permission. July licked his lips nervously. Setting aside the months he stripped for a living, July wasn’t seductive. He knew how to flirt and be pretty. July hadn’t learned to entice anyone to bed. From his experience, men just took what they wanted. July didn’t want to be that way.

When he made no move to touch Fletch, Fletch took his hand and slowly led it to the bulge in his jeans. July thought he might hyperventilate. Fletch was hard for him.

“I want you.” Fletch never looked away as he made the claim. “I’ve wanted you for a damn long time. When we met, I had my own shit to work through. When you get better, you can guarantee I’ll pull every trick to seduce you. Right now, standing this close to your nude body is killing me. But I don’t care about any of that shit. You need to be nursed and pampered. So I’ll keep my pants on, but know, I’m crippled with desire.”

Holy stars. July was in so much trouble. Fletch could definitely melt his clothes off saying things like that. July was here for it.

“I’m in horrific pain.” The confession wouldn’t leave July in more than a whisper. “But would you kiss me? Everyone I’ve ever kissed didn’t care about me, except you.” July might be a mess, but he knew Fletch was for real. It was easy to spot genuine affection when a person had never received it before.

Fletch lowered his head and touched his lips gently against July’s mouth. July went onto his toes to deepen the kiss. Even when Fletch obliged, their kiss was sweeter than any kisses July had ever received. Unfortunately, the kiss didn’t last long.

Fletch backed away. “Do you think you can make it into the shower alone? I’ll grab you a pain pill.”

July panicked a little. “You don’t have to do that. I need a clear head.” July nearly bit off his own tongue when Fletch’s expression went through a series of emotions before snapping shut.

“I’m not going anywhere. My vacation still stands. I’ll be right here, keeping you safe.”

July felt the truth in his gut. If he turned down this pill, Fletch would retreat. July trusting him seemed to matter more than anything.

“Okay.” Even though his agreement came out sounding small, the air lightened. The shift in Fletch’s expression was worth whatever happened next. July had to make Fletch smile again. Otherwise, what use was he at all? None.

Chapter Nine

Across the room, Fletch watched July gush with his friends about God only knew what. They acted as if they were at a slumber party rather than in the middle of a club. Fletch barely saw the cards in his hand. He probably should have stopped drinking at least an hour ago. Fletch was in his feelings and way too aware of his body’s needs. Every now and then, July would glance his way and catch Fletch staring. Fletch never broke eye contact first. While July confused the hell out of him with his tween-like behavior, Fletch saw the beautiful and vulnerable man that game hid. He had never wanted to fuck anyone as badly in his life. This craving drove him insane. How could July be so different from every person Fletch had ever wanted and stir such intense emotion in him? At the thought, his gaze slid Sammie’s way.

Sammie and he had dated for a couple of years. He was Fletch’s type. He sat with his blankie and blocks. The guy desperately needed someone to care for him. His hair was a mess, and he looked ready to cry. Fletch had loved having someone depending on him to the depth that Sammie had. Sammie suddenly threw himself backwards and had a tantrum. Several heads turned that way before rolling their eyes and going back to whatever they had been doing. There it was: the thing that finally turned Fletch off. Sammie needed someone with a different temperament. Someone who wouldn’t be humiliated when Sammie fell out in a store in his regular clothes and had a conniption. At first, Sammie hadn’t been that way. He had his playtime and didn’t regress into a Little persona until he was in his Little clothes. For some reason, Sammie had stopped caring who saw. While it was probably wrong of Fletch to be so embarrassed, that was the thing. Sammie deserved someone who wouldn’t be bothered by his antics. Fletch deserved someone who understood Fletch’s boundaries in play.

Fletch’s gaze automatically switched back to July. He caught July staring at him. July didn’t look away when Fletch busted him. Fletch couldn’t describe what he saw in July’s expression. His features held something that spoke to Fletch. In that moment, Fletch saw the truth. They had been searching for each other, and neither of them knew how to reach for the other.

With July clean, fed, and tucked back into bed, Fletch slipped from the room when July fell asleep. He needed to find out what the status was on Rex. The sooner July could return to his coffeehouse and shopping, the faster he would heal. July wasn’t meant to be caged. He was a butterfly.

Despite being on vacation, Fletch had a hard time not being on duty. That was the only bad part of living where he worked. He never went home. There was no real vacation unless he actually went out of town.

His step slowed as he neared Beau’s office. Beau, his personal guard Henry, and Rhodes were gathered. They stared at the big screen behind Beau’s desk, studying some type of footage. Fletch stood just outside the door, waiting to be noticed. They were obviously engrossed.

Henry pointed at the screen. “Right there.”

“What do we know about him?”

At Beau’s question, Rhodes opened his phone and read. “According to Tracker, his name is Dutch Bailey. He’s forty-three. Started as a beat cop and worked his way up to detective. As far as Tracker can tell, and he can tell a lot, there aren’t any skeletons in his closet. He keeps to the same schedule in the morning. Gym, coffee, and then off to work. He’s single and doesn’t date.”

“Probably overworked,” Henry chimed in.

Beau nodded. “We see a lot of that with people like him.”

“Tracker says we need to be careful with this one. He came from a strong law enforcement family. The risk of seeing if he can be bought is too high. This one would likely arrest whoever approaches him on the spot. I mean, it wouldn’t matter. An arrest wouldn’t go anywhere, but it would definitely make this guy twice as motivated to solve July’s case.”

Fletch forgot he wasn’t part of the conversation. “Why is anyone investigating July?”

Three heads turned his way.

Beau spun his chair back to facing his desk. “Good. I’d hoped I wouldn’t be forced to interrupt your vacation. We need to bring you up to speed.”

Fletch crossed the room and sat across from Beau without invitation. Anyone who didn’t work for or wasn’t related to Beau would be terrified to end up where he was. This had been Fletch’s home for a long time. He was comfortable here.