Present
“Don’t move!”
He froze. The voice behind his back sounded clipped, but not without a tinge of fear. He slowly raised his hands.
“I said don’t move!”
“Look. I just want to turn around, okay? I don’t have a gun or anything with me.”
It took a beat before the voice spoke again. “Fine.”
He moved around slowly until he faced the voice’s owner, stared at the face not too far from his own, and offered a silent “Thank you” to the supervisor who sent him here, or rather, flew him, slid him through the chimney, and literally dumped him into this man’s fireplace. The man who stood before him was f*****g gorgeous, and sweet like no rainbow-colored lollipops or bubbly melting chocolate he’d ever tasted.
He thanked his boss again, hushed, as his eyes roamed over the Adonis’ bare chest. He
