Bonds of Denial by Lynda Aicher

even his groin area. It was something Rock had never thought of as appealing until he’d seen it on Carter.
    He inhaled long and deep, the rich scent of Carter’s cologne coming to life in his mind. I’m a fucking pervert . Watching and drooling over Carter as he got ready to have sex with another man was just wrong. Carter bent at the waist to slip his jeans down his long legs, and Rock spun away.
    He fisted his hands over his face and panted through the rising tide of his desire. The war between watching and carving his eyes out waged a brief battle that eventually had both sides waving a white flag. He couldn’t win.
    It’d been one thing to watch the man, the sex, when Carter had been a distant longing. A face on the screen. But Rock knew him now. Had touched him, talked to him, wanted him as he’d never let himself want anyone.
    The door swung open, and Rock straightened, jerking his chair close to the table and typing his password into the computer. The guilt ate away at his insides but he was too experienced with the emotion to let it show on his face.
    Wes strolled in, his gate slow and casual. “Hey, Rock.” The tall blond slapped Rock onthe shoulder as he passed behind him to take a seat in front of the monitors. “Anything to note?”
    “Nope.” Rock’s short answer was gruff but normal.
    “Anyone or Scene I need to keep an eye on?”
    “Nope.” He slipped his earbuds in and grabbed the top folder off the stack Deklan had left. There were a dozen other things he needed to do that didn’t involve his obsession over a man he could never have.
    Even if he was brave enough to see him again.

Chapter Five
    “Are you sure?” Carter couldn’t stop the doubt from springing out.
    “Of course.” The low voice growled it’s annoyance through the phone. “The man won’t book anyone but you.”
    He shook his head and tried to process that bit of information. “Did he give you any details?” The last thing he’d expected to hear when the agency called was that Rock wanted to book him for another date. Like their first one hadn’t been disastrous enough?
    “Just the time and place.” There was the sound of computer keys clicking. “You’re free on Tuesday, right?”
    He could say no. Hank had just given him an unintentional out. “You’re sure it’s Rockford? The same guy from a month ago?”
    “What the fuck is your deal?” The annoying sniff came through the connection, and Carter winced. After hearing that disgusting sound for the last three years, each occurrence was like an icepick jabbed in his ear. “I don’t fuck this shit up. So get your ass there and make the man happy.”
    There were a dozen things Carter longed to say, but he bit his cheek and held them all in. Three months. Eighty-nine more days—that was it. “Sure thing.” His voice was even and emotionless. “Anything else?”
    “You got your appointment on Friday.”
    “I know.”
    “Get me more data on this Rockford guy too.”
    Carter didn’t respond to that. There was no way he was passing anything back to the agency about any of his clients. The digging for intel was just one more thing that had changed when Hank took over the business.
    Things had become consistently more seedy and shady under Hank’s management. What had once been a reputable escort agency where the employees had more choice and freedom to say no had disintegrated into a thin cover for open prostitution. Hank was essentially a pimp who enforced his status with hired thugs who acted as protection or persuasion, depending on their orders.
    All the more reason to stay quiet and agreeable until his contract expired.
    “What rate are you charging him?” Carter got half of the charged rate plus any tip the client decided to leave him.
    “For four hours? Three thousand.” Hank sniffed. “I told him another grand would get him the whole night, but he declined.”
    No surprise there.
    He took down the rest of the details and set his phone aside