CONTENTS

  Bonus Epilogue

  Thomas was wallowing. There was no other word for it. He sat in his office, the dim glow of a lamp in the far corner of the room his only light source. He wasn’t drunk, but he had every intention of getting there. He had been fighting a downward spiral since his conversation with Noah.

  “Nobody ever loved me either.”

  Thomas didn’t even know why he’d said it. Why he’d confessed such a weirdly intimate thing to the boy. A boy he didn’t know, one he should distrust until vetted. But it was too late now. He’d said it. Out loud. And though days had passed, the words were there, festering in his brain like an infection.

  He hadn’t meant to say it but it was true. Nobody had ever loved him. Not his parents, not even his children. But to be fair, he’d known going into it that his children would never be capable of loving anyone. Obsession, sure. But love? Real love? Impossible. Except for Aiden.

  Aiden wasn’t a psychopath. He was fully capable of loving Thomas and had even claimed he did. Until Thomas turned him down, stating it wasn’t love but displaced feelings of hero worship he was experiencing or even just a crush. And for years, Thomas had forced himself to believe his own bullshit. But now, at fifty one, he realized he’d gone his whole life without letting in a single soul.

  And it sucked.

  And now, Aiden was home. He was somewhere in the house, avoiding Thomas as he always did on the rare occasions he was called back. So, Thomas planned on spending the night the way he always did when Aiden was around, swimming in the bottom of a whiskey bottle until he was safely across the country once more.

  It was self-preservation at this point.

  He swirled the brown liquid around in his glass, closing his eyes briefly before taking a swig. Things had been going so well. Okay, not well, but the status quo. The boys were thriving—well, except Atticus, who had finally ended things with Kendra, but that was for the best. She couldn’t possibly understand his peculiar and meticulous son. Thomas wasn’t sure anyone could.

  But then, Adam had found Noah. And Adam was the one who had worried Thomas the most. He was too selfish, too bold, too cocky. He liked killing too much. Not like August or the twins, but enough for Thomas to keep a close watch over him. That was why Noah felt like such a risk. On the surface, he seemed weak, like someone who Adam could brutalize with impunity.

  But now, Thomas knew the truth. That Noah had hunted Adam, stalked him, confronted him, and had been willing to put a bullet in his head. Knowing Noah had done all that and gone one step further, helping to put an end to the man who abused him without ever looking back, made Thomas realize he’d read the boy all wrong.

  Maybe because Thomas identified with Noah. He’d once been sweet and naive. Until Shane. He shook the thought away. He had to get it together. If he let those thoughts come swirling to the surface, he might never pull himself out of those nightmares again. This was about Adam. About Noah.

  Noah wasn’t weak. And Adam wasn’t in control. That sweet young boy was leading his killer son around by the…nose. That kind of power would be dangerous in the hands of someone who had ill intentions, but Noah, despite everything that had happened to him, had a pure heart.

  Thomas had trained himself to see the worst in everybody. It was the only way to not repeat the sins of the past. But no matter how close he looked, he could see no malice in Noah. If anything, Thomas just wanted to shield him. To make sure the world didn’t strip anything else from the boy.

  It was why he’d allowed Aiden to come home. At least, that was the lie Thomas was choosing to tell himself. What was the harm? Aiden was a ghost in their house. He did his best to pretend Thomas was nothing more than a voice on the phone giving orders.

  In his heart, Thomas knew avoiding Aiden was for the best. They could barely be in a room together without it devolving into a fight. Aiden was the problem. Aiden’s attraction to Thomas was the problem. Thomas finished off his glass. Who was he kidding? Thomas’s desperate need for Aiden was the real problem.

  Fuck.

  Years had passed and that boy still had him in a chokehold. He stood, moving to the bar to refill his drink. He’d just set down the decanter when his office door opened.

  No knock.

  Aiden.

  He stood in the doorway, barefoot in a pair of faded jeans and a henley the color of his eyes, his long hair falling into his eyes and a couple of day’s scruff on his chin and cheeks. For a split second, Thomas worried he’d drank too much—that this was some alcohol-induced fantasy—but he wasn’t nearly wasted enough for that.

  “Aiden?”

  “What? You don’t recognize me?” he asked, sounding somewhere between sulky and irritated.

  It was as sexy as it was adorable. Thomas had no gauge when it came to Aiden. Everything he did had a physical effect on Thomas. “I’m just surprised to see you.”

  “You called me home. Asked me to help out Adam. Where else would I be? Did you want me to stay somewhere else? This is still my house, too. Isn’t it? That’s what you said. That I could always come home.”

  This was why they couldn’t have a conversation. It was never about what it seemed like on the surface. Aiden was mad. He was so fucking mad at Thomas. He thought him a coward, thought he lacked the courage of his convictions. He wanted Thomas to love him so fucking bad, it bled from his pores and leaked into every word that fell from his lips.

  It clawed at Thomas’s heart, shredding it bloody. Because he did love Aiden. Loved him in a way that would cause a rift in the family, that would threaten everything Thomas had spent his adult life building. Aiden was the dynamite that could cripple Thomas’s foundation.

  “Of course, you can, Aiden,” Thomas said.

  Thomas wondered if that would be the end of it—if he’d turn and walk away. Make the safe choice. They stared at each other for a long moment, Thomas’s heart lodged in his throat. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he turned, moving back to his office chair, needing a physical barrier between the two of them.

  Aiden didn’t leave. He moved deeper into the room, fixing himself a drink without asking permission. He never asked permission. He’d come into Thomas’s life almost an adult and had always acted as such.

  That was the problem.

  But Aiden was an adult now, closer to forty than thirty. But it didn’t fix anything. It just made it harder. He could no longer use age or lack of experience as an excuse. He was running out of ways to deflect Aiden’s advances. He was running out of strength.

  Aiden didn’t go to the chair on the other side of Thomas’s desk, opting instead to walk around it to Thomas’s side, sitting himself directly in front of him, close enough for their legs to slot together, Thomas’s knees brushing against Aiden’s calves.

  Shit.

  Aiden stared at Thomas over the rim of his glass, his heated gaze screaming his intentions. Thomas needed to send him away. Needed to at least make him go to his room. But he didn’t. He found himself shifting slightly so Aiden’s calves were now brushing his thighs, the warmth bleeding through the fabric of their pants.

  This was madness. It was torture. The sweetest agony being this close to the thing he loved most in the world, but knowing he could never have it. And Thomas did love Aiden. He loved him in a way no man should ever love a boy he’d adopted as a son. No matter the circumstances that had led them there.

  Had Thomas loved him in this way as a sullen sixteen-year-old boy? No. But now? Now, he was a grown man, beautiful in every way, and each time they saw each other, he grew bolder, more determined to act on the feelings they both had but Thomas refused to acknowledge.

  Usually, Thomas was the voice of reason. Usually, he pushed him away, sometimes physically. But he already knew if Aiden pushed even the slightest bit today, he would fold. He was weak; memories of his past had weakened his resolve, and made all of his logical reasons for staying away seem like petty excuses. Today, he was sad and drowning, and whenever things got to be too much, Thomas reached for Aiden, every fucking time, fair or not. When the world was threatening to swallow Thomas whole, Aiden’s voice was his lifeline. But it was usually on the phone, thousands of miles between them.

  Aiden’s gaze dropped to their legs, squeezing slightly, then he took a long swallow of his drink before setting the glass down.

  “So, you’re letting Adam keep this kid, huh?” Aiden said.

  There were a million unspoken questions in that simple statement. Why him? Why did Adam get to be happy but not Aiden? Why couldn’t Thomas just give in to what they both wanted?

  Thomas ignored what he was really asking, focusing on the surface question. “What do you think would happen if I told your brother no?”

  “He’s not my brother,” Aiden said, almost like a reflex, then answered, “He’d go full scorched earth and ruin the whole family.”

  Thomas nodded, expression grim. “Precisely. He told his brothers he’d burn the whole operation to the ground if I didn’t let him ‘keep’ him.”

  “And how do you feel about that?” Aiden asked, the leg between Thomas’s starting to move slowly, in a tormenting caress that had him hardening behind his zipper.

  Thomas fought to keep his breathing steady, fought to concentrate. “I should be furious. But after seeing the way your bro—Adam—interacts with the boy, how he seems to calm something in him, I am going to let it play out.”

  “You realize his obsession is toxic, right? If Noah decides he wants out, Adam might actually harm hi m. Or himself. Or you.”

  Thomas sighed. “Noah is fully aware of the risks. He finds Adam’s particular brand of love…soothing. It’s what happens when obsession meets neglect. Adam’s need for the boy is a waterfall, and Noah is an empty well. Everyone wants to feel wanted.”

  “Even you?” Aiden asked, voice low.

  Thomas’s gaze climbed back up to Aiden’s face. “Yes, Aiden. Even me.”

  Aiden studied Thomas until he felt like squirming. “I wanted you. I still want you.”

  Thomas swallowed, taking a final swallow of his drink before setting his glass on the far edge of the desk. “We might all want to be wanted, but we don’t always deserve it.”

  “Why do you do this?” Aiden asked, his pain evident.

  “I don’t know. I truly don’t. I don’t want to hurt you. You have to know that.”

  Before Thomas could even guess his intentions, Aiden slipped from his desk, landing on his knees before Thomas. His breath left him in a rush.

  Christ. Maybe if Aiden had gone for his zipper, had made an attempt at aggression, Thomas could have slowed him, could have given himself time to find his fucking resolve.

  But he just dropped his head into Thomas’s lap, pressing his cheek against his thigh, voice thick when he asked, “Why don’t I count? Why is it always so easy to push me away?”

  Easy? There was nothing easy about this. The only thing that ever kept Thomas strong was knowing how much he didn’t deserve Aiden’s love, his devotion, his fucking adoration. Aiden deserved to find someone who could give him everything. Loving Thomas was a curse. When he loved too hard, people died.

  Still, he combed his hands through Aiden’s soft curls, letting himself trace the shell of his ear. Maybe if he just held him, stroked him, maybe it would be enough.

  “You count,” Thomas managed, voice raw. “But it doesn’t change anything.”

  Aiden lifted his head to look up at Thomas, unshed tears in his eyes. Jesus. How was he supposed to resist this? Furious Aiden was near impossible to resist, but broken Aiden? Thomas was only a man.

  He palmed Aiden’s cheek, his thumb tracing his mouth. Aiden’s pupils blew wide until his eyes were almost all black.

  “Aiden…”

  Aiden shook his head. “Don’t. Don’t say it. Don’t say no. Not tonight.”

  He dropped his head once more to nuzzle his head deeper into Thomas’s lap. Thomas just didn’t have the strength to refuse him. It was cruel to keep doing this to Aiden. To keep running hot and cold all the time. But it was so hard. He ached for Aiden. Craved his touch. Missed his scent when he wasn’t around. Missing Aiden was painful in a way Thomas could never describe, like someone had carved out his heart and asked him to go on living with a gaping wound in his chest.

  He continued to stroke his hair, pet over his face. Aiden wrapped his arms around his waist like he was content on his knees, his head pressed against Thomas’s zipper. Thomas closed his eyes. What was the harm in letting himself have this much? They were just…touching. There was nothing wrong with it. Right?

  Did Thomas deserve just this much happiness? This kind of contentment? Was it too much? Not enough to atone for his fucking sins? Or was this just another sin? It didn’t feel like a sin. But it did feel sinful somehow. Could those two things be different?

  Aiden’s hands were suddenly at Thomas’s hips, his mouth close enough to his cock for Thomas to feel his hot breath through the fabric. “Aiden…”

  “Please?”

  Please, what? Please, forget what was right? What was fair? What was sane? Aiden must have taken his silence for permission because his fingers were undoing his belt, lowering his zipper. When he tugged on Thomas’s pants, he lifted up without thought, letting him pull the fabric down to mouth over his underwear.

  His fingers fisted in Aiden’s hair, groaning. “We shouldn’t…”

  Aiden ignored him, freeing his cock and licking over the head, looking up at Thomas with a look that melted the tiny bit of determination he’d told himself he still had. It had all been a lie. It was always a lie when it came to him.

  Thomas slipped down in his seat just enough for Aiden to take him in. Christ. His mouth was so hot, so fucking wet, the suction making Thomas’s eyes roll back. Aiden was enthusiastic, the sounds borderline obscene. Anybody listening would easily guess what was happening. That should have terrified him but, somehow, it only made Thomas hotter.

  Aiden pulled off, crawling into Thomas’s lap, then his mouth was slanting over his. “Why can’t I stay away from you?” he asked against his lips.

  Thomas had no answer. It was a question he’d asked himself a million times. Why couldn’t they stay away from each other? He cupped his face, tilting his head, deepening the kiss. Fuck, he tasted like whiskey and poor life choices. It was intoxicating. He fucked his tongue into his mouth, wishing he could fill him up in every way.

  “Fuck me,” Aiden begged, like he was reading Thomas’s mind.

  “I can’t. We can’t,” Thomas amended. “This is already too much. Maybe we should sto—”

  Aiden cut him off with another kiss. “Then just touch me. You can do that, right? Please? Just keep touching me? Touch me like you fucking love me. You can fake it if you have to. Just don’t make me leave yet. I’m not ready.”

  Aiden’s plea brought tears to Thomas’s eyes. His hands went to Aiden’s pants, opening the button and zipper, then he plunged his hand inside, closing his fist around the velvet length of his cock, stroking him. His other hand locked on the back of his neck, kissing him, but really, he was just enjoying the noises he was making as Thomas jerked him. Aiden moaning into his mouth was Thomas’s wet dream come to life.

  Aiden wrapped a hand around Thomas’s cock and worked him with the same rhythm. It wasn’t comfortable. The catch and slide of Aiden’s sandpaper rough hand made him wince. But that felt right. Pleasure and pain would always be part of their story, their destiny.

  What was he thinking?

  Maybe he was fucking drunk.

  He didn’t care. Drunk or not, this was the culmination of everything Thomas had fantasized about for the last decade or so. Nothing else mattered. He just wanted to savor it, savor Aiden’s panting breaths against his lips and the way he sometimes let out this tiny little half-whimper when Thomas would twist his wrist on the upstroke. What sounds would he make if Thomas buried himself inside him?

  He could. If he bent Aiden over his desk, he’d let him. He would probably beg for it. The thought of working him open with his fingers, his tongue, then filling him up was too much. It had him driving up into Aiden’s fist, whispering his name, begging him not to stop, letting him know he was close.

  He couldn’t help himself. He was past the point of no return. He could feel the heat building at the base of his spine, the shocky pulses of pleasure spurring him faster. His orgasm hit him like a wave, the pleasure sucking him under and whiting out all reason as he spilled over Aiden’s fist. Fuck.

  When he came back to his senses, he realized that Aiden was still hard in his hand. Thomas didn’t think about what he did next, he just did it. Standing with Aiden still in his lap, he gripped his ass and deposited him on the desk, pushing him back until he was lying across it, legs dangling.

  Then he closed his mouth over Aiden, sucking him down, the tang of his skin and the bitterness of his leaking cock making him moan. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How many times had he dreamed about this? He tasted like fucking heaven. Thomas tried to commit it all to memory. The way Aiden squirmed beneath him, the way his hands fisted in Thomas’s hair, the breathless way he kept panting his name.

  He slid his hands up under Aiden’s shirt, playing with his nipples as he took him to the back of his throat, swallowing around him. The lack of air and the alcohol in his blood made his head swim deliciously, took away some of the shame and guilt, leaving just a lovely buzzy feeling.

  “Oh, fuck, Tommy. I’m gonna come. Please,” Aiden begged.

  Thomas didn’t know what he was asking for, but he doubled his efforts, bobbing his head faster, working him deeper until he was crying out, flooding his mouth with his release. Thomas savored the taste for a moment before swallowing it down.

  He pulled off, resting his head on Aiden’s belly for a few moments until his back protested the awkward angle. He stood, fixed his pants, and sat back in his office chair, then gently touched Aiden’s jean-clad thigh.

 

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