I went up to the office to swap the encrypted laptops onto their overnight cycle. It was a five-minute job. I’d done it every night for four nights.
Farrow was already there.
He was at the desk under the dormer. The lamp was low. He’d run the wipe on the first laptop and left the second for me.
He looked up when I entered. I closed the door behind me.
I moved to the desk and ran the wipe on the second laptop. It took me ninety seconds.
Farrow stepped up close.
He brought his hand up to the side of my throat. His thumb rested on my jawbone and his fingers behind my ear.
He reached for my hip with his other hand.
Leaning in, he pressed his open mouth under my jaw, just below his thumb. Farrow’s warm breath brushed my neck.
Farrow lifted his head. He looked at me and waited.
He was giving me a moment to stop being a bodyguard and focus on him.
“Okay,” I said.
He kissed me. He took his time, pressing his tongue between my lips.
“There you are,” Farrow said.
He reached past me and turned the lamp off.
Enough light came through the dormer from the outside security light to see the shape of him. He took my hand off the desk and pulled me two steps to the small leather couch under the window. He sat and pulled me down over him.
He lay back against the arm. My knees bracketed his thighs, and I held his hand in both hands.
“Stay,” he whispered.
“I’m staying.”
“No. Stay here. Don’t go back into the room.”
I closed my eyes for one breath. “Here. With you.”
He worked the hem of my hoodie up, and his hands pressed flat against my bare skin. He reached one hand around me and ran his fingers up my spine to my shoulder blades before pulling me further down so my bare chest was against his. We kissed again.
Farrow traced the line of muscle along my ribs. He worked my belt open with one hand and unbuttoned my jeans. He slid his hand inside, low, against my stomach, slowly wrapping fingers around my cock.
I exhaled into his mouth. He stroked me, slow and steady.
Farrow set the pace, the way he had the first night in my apartment, except this time the door wasn’t locked, and two principals were downstairs.
He shifted his hand, and my breath hitched.
“Look at me.”
I looked.
The dormer light caught half his face and left the other half dark. He stared into my eyes. He didn’t blink.
“Hi,” he said. “There’s my guy.”