Page 27 of Get A Fix

Instead, I pressed my face down into the hollow of his throat. He wrapped me in his arms and hugged me tight.

“Nice to be held,” I said, my words on his skin.

“It’s even better to be the one doing the holding,” he admitted, one of his hands tangling in my hair.

Neither of us said a word for several moments.

“I thought, back then, that I wanted a home I could return to, and that my partner would be there, waiting.”

“That sounds normal.”

“It does, but it also makes for separate lives, people living apart. And I thought that would be the best thing for me, but it’s really not.”

“How so?”

“I don’t want to return. I need to live there too. All the time, except when I’m making movies. And when I am, I want to be visited. I want the connection to stay open, a current running between us.”

“So you didn’t use to need the constant connection?”

“That’s right. I thought I could live my life as I always had, basically unconcerned about my partner, untouched by them except when I was going home.”

“Also, as you said, there were other people in and out of your bed in the interim.”

“Yeah…” He sounded sad.

“So with the one who got away, could either of you have moved at that time in your life? I’m thinking this was before you were a household name?”

He chuckled before rolling me over on my back. “You’re very smart. I hadn’t done the Jack Ryan movie yet, and after that everything took off.”

“And he couldn’t move either?” I asked as he pressed his lips to the side of my neck.

“No,” he answered after a moment, clearly distracted. “Why is this shirt still on?”

“Try and focus,” I teased him.

“I—where is your lube?”

“Where’s yours? I have no doubt you came prepared.”

He sat up then and stared intently into my eyes. “I’m getting the idea you think I’m forever on the prowl.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No.”

“No?” I couldn’t help the snicker that came out. “If I said no to this, which, let’s face it, who would? But if I were a monk or something, you would have looked for someone else while you were here.”

His brows furrowed, and he leaned sideways so he was pressing against my side, his hand on my abdomen. He liked touching me, that was obvious.

“I wouldn’t have, though.”

“And why is that?”

He raked his fingers through his thick hair, clearly reluctant to talk about his love life.

“Listen,” I said softly, sitting up to face him. “I have no problem being another notch in your bedpost, so all this seductive mojo you’ve got going isn’t necessary. You’re you, and anyone would be lucky to be where I am.”

Surprisingly, he got up and started pacing. “But see, that’s not what I want. It shouldn’t just be that, so meaningless.”