Ken’s expression was intimate. “I’m not. Last night was unforgettable. For some of us. And I was already planning on asking for your help. We make a good team.”
That was true enough. They’d toppled the corrupt Burke and the complicit local paper that was a part of his media empire. They’d also saved Seamus from losing Little Sean and gotten Tasha and Stephen back together, though Brady knew that most of it was Ken’s doing. He was just the muscle who did good legwork. Tanaka had been the brain.
“So…you want me for a job? That’s why I spent the night? You and I—we didn’t…”
Ken’s eyes sparkled with humor. “I was wondering when you’d get around to asking.”
He strode up to Brady and gripped a handful of sheet in both hands and twisted so it tightened around his hips. He could feel the heat from Ken’s body wrapping around him just as tightly. Holding him captive. “You don’t remember the things you admitted to? The things you offered? Nothing?”
Brady swallowed hard. Hell. “No.”
Ken whistled, drawing Brady’s attention to his pursed lips. “Too bad. What you said made it nearly impossible for me not to pick up where we left off the last time I saw you. And when you asked me to help take off your clothes—”
“Damn it, Tanaka.” Brady grabbed one of Ken’s wrists in rough warning. “Don’t dick around.”
Bad choice of words. Ken’s bringing up the last time they saw each other only made his current state of arousal harder to ignore.
Ken on his knees, sucking your cock.
Brady’s fingers flexed in memory and Ken bit his lip. “Mmm, I do love that strong grip of yours. Brings back memories. You know, if you weren’t so disgusted by kink I might think we shared an interest in noncon, but sadly, you are as vanilla as a gay Irish Marine can be.”
Brady dropped his wrist a little too quickly. “What the hell is noncon?”
Refusing to release him, Ken gave him the kind of smile Lucifer must have worn the moment before he fell. “Consensual non-consent, Finn. A little game where one of us pretends to resist while the other forces us to take it. To love it.” He licked his lips and Brady suppressed another shiver of awareness. “Shame, really. You’re big enough to be a challenge and I have a thing for muscle-bound gingers who talk too much when they drink.”
Damn. “Tanaka—”
“Yes, I know, I know. That one party scarred you for life and the subject is off the table forever. For the record, you slept alone last night. I was on the couch in case you needed me, but I’ll sleep in the bed in my office if you decide to stay.”
That was the answer he’d been waiting for. Ken had slept on the couch. They hadn’t given in to desire and ripped each other’s clothes off. Why was Brady disappointed?
“Here’s the plan, Finn. You’re going to take a shower and think about what you want to do. Stay with me and help someone that no one else can, or go home and deal with your family’s expectations. Either way, your duffel is at the foot of the bed and there’s a clean towel and packaged toothbrush for you in the bathroom.”
Ken released him and took a step back. “I’ll have breakfast waiting when you’re done and we can talk about what you’ve decided.”
Brady let the dictatorial tone slide as he thought about his options. Home or Tanaka. Judgmental concern or dangerous temptation. He could always take door number three, he knew. Just leave. Go somewhere with the money he’d inherited from his mother and start again. Alone.
Shower. Right now he just wanted a shower. “I appreciate it. This. All the trouble you’re going to.”
Ken turned away and his long black braid swung with the motion, striking Brady’s side. “Don’t thank me again, Finn. Just say yes.”
He wanted to. He studied Tanaka’s tattooed back with hungry eyes and wanted to agree to anything he asked. The strength of his desire scared him. It had from the moment they met.
Without his self-control he’d have nothing. That was why, if he were a smart man, he would say no to the job and get the hell out of there. Being around Ken Tanaka made him unpredictable. Tempted him to let go and give in.
He swore under his breath and headed toward the shower. Last night proved he wasn’t that bright. One evening of drinking was all it had taken to alienate family, nearly embarrass them all online and go home with the one man he most wanted to avoid.
He was never drinking again.
Chapter Two
“Tanaka?” Brady walked out of the bedroom buttoning his jeans, his black shirt thrown over his shoulder. “Am I dreaming, or do I smell bacon?”
He was starving. Whatever was in that nasty swamp remedy, it had done the trick. If he hadn’t watched the video with his own eyes, Brady could almost convince himself he’d never gotten drunk at all.