Photographing Memory: A Friends To Lovers Romance Page 7

  Alex’s descent into the clutches of a soulless bank hadn’t affected his enthusiasm in bed at all. Jordan was almost surprised to find out that Alex was vocal about his pleasure. Alex let him know, and quickly, when he found a spot that worked for him. And when, during prep, Jordan found that sweetest spot inside of Alex, Alex moaned loudly enough for Jordan to worry about the neighbors.

  Not that he wanted Alex to be quiet. Not at all.

  He rolled the condom on and slicked himself up, and worked his way into Alex with short, shallow thrusts. Alex’s body was tight, and it was so incredibly hot. He looked up at Jordan with so much trust and love, Jordan had to grip himself to keep control.

  Was this love? Whatever it was, it could easily overwhelm Jordan. Right now, he didn’t know if he cared.

  He moved when Alex told him to, snapping his hips back to thrust back in. Alex wrapped his long legs around his waist and held on, a happy smile on his face as he groaned. Jordan beamed as he did it again, and again.

  This was his work. He’d put that smile on Alex’s face. He’d chased the worry and stress from Alex’s beautiful eyes. He thrust even harder as heat pooled in his belly, unable to hide his pleasure and his pride.

  Alex came first, coming in thick ropes over his chest and belly. His eyes rolled back as his body clenched around Jordan, and Jordan almost forgot himself again. There was no more beautiful sight than this, a man so lost in ecstasy, and Jordan had done it.

  Then his orgasm overtook him, a living thing with a mind and lifespan of its own, and he shouted as he spilled into the condom. He collapsed on top of Alex, panting, and found Alex stroking his hair when he came back to himself.

  He got up and disposed of the condom, and he brought back a damp washcloth to clean them up. Then he climbed into bed with Alex, and Alex held him again. Alex’s limbs were still loose from his orgasm, and his strokes languid as he ran his fingers through Jordan’s wild hair.

  Alex wasn’t asleep. He was still smiling, and he was still wrapped deep in the bliss Jordan had put there. Jordan had enjoyed it too, but he’d taken just as much pleasure from watching Alex as he had from simply having sex.

  After a while — Jordan wasn’t a clock watcher, he didn’t know how long it was — Alex kissed Jordan’s shoulder. “Hey.”

  Alex’s erection was returning. It poked Jordan’s thigh, just a little bit. “I want to make you as happy as you just made me. I probably won’t be quite as amazing, but I want to make you feel good. Will you let me?”

  Jordan didn’t bottom often, but he wasn’t opposed. He just didn’t often get the chance. Most of his partners wound up being strictly bottoms. “I’d have a hard time saying no to you for anything,” he said honestly. “But that’s not even a hardship.” His cock perked up at the thought, even though he’d just had sex a short time ago.

  Alex took great care of him. By the time he was ready to slick the condom on, Jordan was as hard as a rock. It had been a long time since he’d done anything but top, and he was excited to feel taken care of again.

  He breathed through Alex’s initial intrusion, a long, infinitely slow and patient single thrust. It took Jordan a minute to adjust, but once he did, and Alex started moving, Jordan almost cried.

  He had never been so full in his life, so complete. Everything he and Alex had meant to one another as kids had culminated in this moment, and here they were. They belonged exactly like this, as together as two human beings could possibly be, and they couldn’t let anyone come between them.

  Alex grabbed Jordan’s cock, and he started to jerk gently along with the sensuous rhythm he’d already set up for them. It was amazing, perfect, and Jordan let go and just let himself feel. He had Alex behind him, and Alex inside him, and Alex gripping him. Everything was perfect, and when his orgasm washed over him, that was perfect too.

  He cried out and fell over, bracing himself as Alex finished. When Alex got up to go get rid of the condom, Jordan made himself get out of bed. He was going to pass out soon enough, and he’d left his phone out in the front room. If he didn’t put it on to charge, he’d be screwed in the morning, and not in the fun way.

  He shuffled into the main room and grabbed his phone, only to see the message light flashing. He checked, and found a text from his buddy Gus. He knew Gus from his work on the pipeline project, and he had a lot of respect for him.

  When he saw Gus’ message, though, he had to scratch his head. Hey, bro. Aren’t you seeing some guy who works for CRB?

  Why would Gus even know that? Jordan hadn’t brought up Alex’s employer. Maybe Devon had said something? He does. He’s cool anyway, though. Why?

  That’s an awesome asset, bro. We can use his system login to get at the bank’s electronic records.

  Jordan did a double take. Then he put his keyboard into all caps. YOU CAN’T PUT THINGS LIKE THAT IN WRITING, GUS.

  Give me a break. We can delete the texts anytime, and we’re using a secure message app. If we can get the records, we can prove the bank is bribing Alaskan officials to approve pipeline-related projects. They’ll go to jail, and the planet will win. Think about it, bro.

  Jordan did think about it. Everyone, from activists and environmentalists to journalists, had been speculating about why Alaskan officials had been so pro-pipeline. Bribery had been suspected, but there wasn’t enough evidence to get a warrant for the bank, and the bank was unsurprisingly not cooperating.

  He looked back toward the open door, where Alex had climbed back into bed. Dude, he texted back, I don’t think Alex has those kind of clearances.

  He wanted to help the cause. He did. At the same time, if the security breach were ever traced back, Alex would never work again.

  Jordan was willing to sacrifice everything, including his life, for his cause. Alex hadn’t signed up for that.

  We can talk about this tomorrow, bro. Gus signed out of chat.

  Jordan went back to bed and tried to ignore the vague twinge of guilt in the back of his head.

  10

  Jordan yawned and wrapped his hands around his coffee mug. He didn’t want to have this meeting. He’d been worried, so he’d put off his meeting with Gus until he could bring Devon in. That might have been the single smartest thing he’d done in this lifetime, and he didn’t care who knew it.

  Devon’s hours were hugely antisocial, but that wasn’t a problem for Jordan. Jordan made his own hours, more or less, so he could set his schedule to accommodate Devon’s wacky chef schedule. So, apparently, could Gus, and at the drop of a hat too.

  “I have no idea what Gus does for a job,” Jordan commented as the realization dawned. He took a gulp from his coffee and put it down again. “No idea — none.”

  “My best guess, after what you told me? He’s a plant. Works for the feds, or maybe Boston police.” Devon made a face. “Bastards. We’re out here trying to save the world and stuff, and they’re here trying to frame us for crimes.”

  “He could just be an incredibly inept tool.” Jordan stared at his sandwich. “Never forget the sheer destructive power of incompetence.”

  “True that.” Devon chugged his coffee. “Is iceberg lettuce supposed to be that color?”

  “I don’t know.” Jordan poked at his lettuce. “Maybe the FBI per diem is on the low side. This diner always was a dump.”

  “It was a rhetorical question, anyway.” Devon rolled his eyes. “So, things are going pretty well for you and Alex, huh?”

  Jordan blushed deeply. “I mean yeah, but I’m not going to sit here and kiss and tell. He’s amazing, but you already knew that because you live with him.”

  “I don’t date him, though, and he’s kind of a ghost around the house. He sleeps, gets up, and maybe once a week he frowns at our roommates and tries to clean a few things.”

  He chuckled and took a bite of his sandwich, then made a face and put it down. “How do you screw up a damn Reuben? It’s so simple even Myles could do it, I swear to God.

  “Anyway, I’m glad. You guy
s are both awesome, and you both deserve to have someone good in your life who makes you happy, you know?”

  Jordan smiled again and sank down a little in his seat. “Every time I think about Alex, I turn into a little puddle of mush or something,” he confessed. “It would be sad, but I’m too happy to be sad.”

  “Pathetic,” Devon teased. “Seriously, though. I’m glad. Heads up, narc at one o’clock.”

  Gus had just entered the crowded, greasy diner. He shouldered his way through the patrons to slip into their booth, a vulpine smile on his round face. “Hey, guys, how’s it going?”

  Jordan tried not to be obvious as he looked Gus over. He didn’t think he’d recognize any but the most obvious recording devices, and the FBI was way too sophisticated to use anything less than subtle. “It’s going pretty well, Gus. How about with you, man?”

  “It’s going pretty well.” Gus caught the harried waitress’ eye and ordered a grilled cheese. Devon recoiled a little, but if Gus ate here often, he’d probably developed immunity to whatever was wrong with the food here by now. “So what’s on your mind, Jordan? Did you give some thought to what I asked you the other day?”

  Jordan nodded, and he scratched just behind his ear. “I’m a little uncomfortable with it, Gus. I mean, think about it for a second, would you? You reached out to me and asked me to not only commit a crime, but to draw someone else into a crime. Someone wholly unrelated to the organization and to the cause. And you did it in writing, where it could be sure to leave a paper trail. I’m sure you can see where this would make me nervous.”

  Gus scoffed. “Come on, Jordan. I was using one of those secure chat apps. No one could be listening in.”

  “Unless the one sending the message was the one looking to do the spying.” Devon pushed his foul Reuben away. “It’s funny, Gus. You offer to pick up the tab for things like this, but you never have told us where your money comes from.”

  “I make money as a writer.” Gus glanced between them. A bead of sweat dripped from his head.

  “Nah. I can’t find a thing you’ve written, and you don’t ever carry a laptop. Been to your apartment, too. You’re not paying for that on a writer’s salary, man.” Devon cracked his knuckles and glanced over at Jordan.

  Jordan’s stomach fluttered. “I’ve got to know, Gus. Are you a Fed?”

  Gus sighed. “What tipped you off?”

  “The entrapment, genius.” Jordan scowled. “I’m not feeling good about that, by the way. Not even a little bit.”

  “It’s not entrapment.” Gus glowered at him. “You make all your own choices.”

  “I’m pretty sure most courts have seen it differently. When the federal agent is the one coming up with crimes, and inciting people to commit those crimes, it’s usually entrapment. Thankfully, we figured you out before you dragged us into something stupid and cost an innocent man his livelihood.”

  Devon crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s my roommate, asshole. I need him to pay his share of the rent. I don’t think I’m going to be forgiving you that.”

  “And you don’t think the US government thinks energy security is an issue?” Gus leaned forward. “Depending on foreign oil leaves us vulnerable—”

  “Shut up, Gus.” Jordan held up a hand. “You’re a narc. We don’t listen to narcs. Just … just shut up, would you?

  “Anyway. Whatever you thought you were going to accomplish by hiding out in the org, it’s over. We’re telling everyone in Boston who you are and what you’re doing. So you’d better look forward to rocking a desk, because your undercover days are over.”

  “Don’t you care about your country’s security?” Gus sneered at them.

  “Sure,” Devon said. “We care a lot. That’s why we fight so hard. And hey, maybe you’ll tell future agents not to use illegal methods to try to entrap people who are trying to help save American lives.”

  Devon stood up. “Asshole.” He headed toward the exit, and Jordan followed. He didn’t have anything left to say to Gus.

  Devon was shaking with anger by the time they got out. “I can’t believe the nerve of that guy! Plus, now I’m hungry.”

  The noise and smells of perpetual construction assaulted Jordan as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. Once, this part of Chinatown had been known as the Combat Zone. Now it was just known as A Mess.

  Fortunately, pedestrians could get out of the mess quickly enough, and make their way to South Station and the Financial District in minutes. It would take drivers forever, but that was Boston for you.

  “Here’s an Au Bon Pain. We can grab something to eat.” Jordan smiled softly. “And hey — I can grab something for Alex while I’m here. I mean, the building is right there, and I want to make him smile a little.”

  Devon rolled his eyes and groaned theatrically, but he was grinning the whole time. “Oh my God, you’re ridiculous.”

  They grabbed sandwiches in the shop, and Jordan got a pastry for Alex while he was at it. Alex had always loved almond croissants when they’d been kids. Sure, they were calorie bombs, but it wasn’t like a once-in-a-while treat would kill him. He and Devon composed messages about Gus to send to all of their social media outlets while they ate, and when they were done they headed toward the Charles River Bank building.

  “It feels weird going toward it without signs and a megaphone,” Devon told him.

  “Right?” Jordan squirmed. “I’m going to need a shower after we leave this place. But hey, it’s worth it.”

  They headed up to the third floor, where the receptionist gave Jordan a deeply suspicious look when he asked to speak to Alex Lopez in Institutional Investing. She sent a message up and told him someone would be with him shortly.

  “I don’t want to see ‘someone,’” Jordan whispered to Devon as they sat on a couch on the other side of the reception area. “The only person in this place I ever want to see, at all, is Alex.”

  “It’s probably just corporate speak.” Devon curled his lip at the bland decor around them. “I think I’m getting a rash from this place. Am I getting a rash? Hives?”

  Five minutes later, someone got off of an elevator. Jordan didn’t recognize him, and would have ignored him just as he had everyone else, but Devon tensed up when he saw him.

  The stranger wore an expensive, dark-colored suit, with a white dress shirt underneath that had French cuffs and cufflinks that probably cost more than Jordan’s parents’ house. He had dark blond hair, a chiseled jaw, and full pouty lips that had probably never found pleasure with anything.

  “I understand you came to see Alex Lopez,” he said, and stuck his jaw out. “I’m Chad Milton. I’m his supervisor.”

  Devon scoffed. “You’re not his supervisor, Chad. You’re his ex. His supervisor’s name is Anna Hyde. What are you really doing down here?”

  Chad looked over at Devon as if he were seeing him for the first time. “Oh. Hm. I didn’t recognize you out of uniform. Don’t you work at that little restaurant thing? I’m sure you have to be running along now. Wouldn’t want to miss a single hour of pay, would you?

  “Listen, whether or not I have the title of supervisor, I work very closely with Alex, and I supervise a lot of his work. He can’t come down to frolic with the help and a scruffy no-name artist from Southie, all right?

  “Alex is at work. I get that this is a difficult concept for your sort, but Alex is going somewhere. He’s very busy, doing important things for important people.

  “He’s making a lot of money for this bank, and some very senior people are noticing. The last thing he, or anyone else, needs is to have you showing up out of the blue and ruining everything.”

  Jordan stood up and stepped closer to this Chad guy. Devon had said Chad was an ex of Alex’s, but that didn’t give him any power over Jordan.

  “Who the hell are you? Just because you work here doesn’t mean you get to decide who he sees and who he doesn’t. I’m sure you get visitors, this Anna Hyde person gets visitors, the receptionist with the
exceptional curl to her lip gets visitors, now you want me to believe Alex isn’t allowed visitors?”

  “Visitors are one thing. Scum is something else. I’m not going to have you turning his head, Davenport. Not now, not ever. You stay the hell away from this bank, or I’ll make sure we get a court order demanding it.”

  Devon grabbed Jordan’s shoulder. “Come on, man. Chad’s been a prick his whole life; you’re not going to give him a decent personality with a talking-to.”

  He pulled Jordan toward the elevator. Jordan was tempted to fight him off, but he didn’t want to get arrested fighting Alex’s ex at Alex’s office. He let Devon drag him away.

  Since Devon had to get to work, Jordan went home alone. He ate the pastry he’d bought for Alex, since he had nothing else to do with it, and pouted for a while. Around seven that evening, he sent Alex a text.

  Did you send that Chad guy downstairs to tell us to go away?

  Alex’s response was immediate. Huh? What are you talking about? You came to the bank? Why didn’t anyone tell me?

  You’d have to ask Chad.

  I’ll take it up with him. Alex added an angry emoji, and Jordan didn’t think Alex was lying. I’m sorry I missed you. It would have been great to see you today. It’s been a long day, and it would have made the day go by a lot faster.

  Next time, I’ll just text you directly.

  What are you doing right now? Alex sent back.

  Nothing. Want to come over?

  I’m on my way.

  Jordan smiled and settled back into his couch cushions. He had what he needed. He had Alex’s heart, and Alex would deal with the overzealous ex. The guy was probably just jealous anyway. Who wouldn’t be, if they’d been dumb enough to lose Alex?