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man unlike any he’d met before. Did he really think Chris was a threat? Not physically, no, but… “I don’t want a ‘pretty boy’,” Rich blurted out, heat scorching his cheeks. Chris looked up at him with a not-quite-hopeful expression, but his shoulders relaxed slightly and he quit fidgeting with his phone.

“I had plenty of them before—just before,” Rich confessed, not as proud of it as he’d once been. “There’s been no one since this.” He reached up and forced himself to touch the scar though it made his stomach quiver. “And there’s…there’s more, a lot more. It’s— I’m grotesque.” Rich hated the word, but it always sprung to mind when he thought of his damaged face and body. When he’d been perfect, unscarred and handsome, he would have turned away from someone who looked like he did now. Why would anyone treat him any different? Wasn’t it a karmic rule or something?

Chris muttered something Rich couldn’t hear then took a small step forward. He slid his gaze over Rich from head to toe, lingering for long seconds on Rich’s rapidly swelling cock. When he licked his lips and caught the ball of his tongue piercing between his teeth, Rich thought he was going to shoot in his jeans. What would that ball feel like flicking over my cock, sliding into my slit? Rich moaned and cupped his erection, aching for just a touch from Chris.

“Call your friend, the sheriff, give him my name, license number, plates, truck description.” Chris turned his head to watch a passing car. “Or is he your boyfriend? He didn’t—he wasn’t the one who hurt you, was he?” Chris faced him again, and the look he gave Rich told him Chris intended to kick the ass of whoever had hurt him.

“He’s dead,” Rich said bluntly. “The sheriff, Laine, is my friend. So is his partner, Severo. Laine and I were detectives in Houston years ago, and the fucker who nearly killed me was after Laine. I was just a way to hurt him.”

Chris’s tan had faded away as Rich talked, leaving his complexion unnaturally pale. “Jeez, Rich, I—”

Rich didn’t know what else to say as he watched Chris’ hands curl into fists. He heard a pop of plastic and Chris cursed, looking down at the hand clutching his cell phone. Frowning so hard his brow wrinkled with it, Chris put the phone back in the clip. “At least this time I didn’t break it.” He took another tentative step forward then another, stopping several feet away. Too far away, Rich thought.

“You probably don’t believe me, but I’m usually a pacifist.”

“Okay.” Rich looked at those bulging muscles and did find it hard to believe, but who was he to judge someone by their appearance?

Chris’ lips twisted as he fisted his hands again. Rich watched the way his forearms and biceps tightened, the way his full lips thinned and pulled down at the edges.

“It’s a good thing he’s dead and gone.”

“Yeah,” Rich murmured, “it’s a good thing he’s dead.” He was very much afraid the gone part was too much to hope for.

Chapter Five

Chris couldn’t remember ever being so angry before. He turned his back to Rich in order to keep his eyes averted, not wanting to scare Rich with what Chris feared might show in them. His mother had said the eyes really were the windows to the soul, and whoever had come up with that discovery was the most intuitive person ever born. He wasn’t sure about that, but he did know he had expressive eyes, and while he didn’t know the extent of what Rich had been through—the CliffsNotes version had been pretty damn awful—he’d bet it wouldn’t endear him any to Rich if the man saw the fury burning in Chris’ soul right now. No doubt his aura was now a murky gray tinged with icky yellow as well.

“Chris.”

The sound of Rich’s trembling voice sent a shiver down Chris’ spine. The feel of Rich’s hand tracing the shiver’s path filled Chris with a desire so strong he could hardly breathe.

“I don’t see what you could possibly find attractive about me. You haven’t seen all of the scars, and I’m—”

“You’re beautiful,” Chris said as he slowly turned to Rich. The inclination to spin around and grab the man and show him just how beautiful Chris thought he was, was only held in check by the fear Rich would think Chris meant to harm him.

Rich shook his head, dropping his lids down so Chris couldn’t see his dark eyes. The thick fan of lashes against honey brown skin made Chris’ heart flutter in his chest. He couldn’t resist touching, and slowly brought his hand up to brush a finger just under the soft black fringe. Rich gasped quietly and looked up at him. Chris didn’t pull away, instead letting his finger trace a path to Rich’s full lower lip. Rich’s lips parted on a sigh that Chris wished he could swallow.

“You are,” Chris asserted, daring to dip his fingertip between the lush lips he wanted to taste. “And strong, so strong, honey—”

Rich’s eyes widened at the endearment, but Chris wasn’t going to make an excuse for it this time.

“You have no idea how strong you are, do you? But I see it, I do.” And Rich would probably call him ten kinds of fool if Chris told him about seeing auras, but maybe someday, if Chris’ mom was right, he’d be able to tell Rich.

“I’m not, not any of that.”

“You are,” Chris repeated then let his hand drop back to his side before he gave in to the need to kiss Rich’s protests away. He pulled out his wallet and took his license from its slot. “Call your friend, give him all that information along with my license plates, number and description of the truck. It’s a 2011 LoneStar sleeper cab.”

Rich sputtered for a moment then tried to hand Chris his license back.

“Nope,” Chris said backing away. “Besides, if this guy is your

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