Lethal Attraction (Book 2 of Danger Games) (MM)

Damien stood facing the sidewall of the elevator in his building then let his head drop, forehead hitting the wall with a thud.

Sophia had a point that he wasn’t willing to think too much about.

He had no idea what this thing between him and Michael was. It was more than just sex—that part he was certain about. The sex had been fantastic—mind-blowing, even. Damien had never had a partner who worked so well with him, and knew exactly what each other’s sexual needs were.

But then if it’d been just sex, they wouldn’t be spending their days off lounging in each other’s place with only their underwear, sharing a mug of coffee while snuggling on the couch watching those sci-fi TV shows Damien loved so much.

The elevator lurched and came to a halt on his floor, jolting Damien out of his thoughts.

Running a hand over his face, Damien sighed, pulled open the gates of the old freight elevator and stepped out. The thick steel sliding door of his studio apartment was partially open, and Damien’s heart jumped. He was about to pull the gun he’d hidden in the vents before he remembered that he’d left his spare keys with Michael and told him to come by after work.

Looked like Michael was early.

Damien pushed the doors open just enough to slip through then shut it gently behind him.

His place was a factory that had been converted a number of years ago into an apartment building. The large space was open-concept, with a sleeping area in the back, a kitchen and dinette in the middle, and a large living room at the front that he’d sectioned off into a lounge area as well as a photography studio.

The place was quiet; late-afternoon sun through the large windows flooded the entire space with ample light. Damien looked around the apartment, expecting Michael to be on the couch working on something as he usually did, only to find the living room empty.

It wasn’t until he neared the bedroom that Damien noticed the human-shaped lump on his bed.

Michael was lying flat on the bed, his hair mussed and his arms limp by his head on the pillow, and he was gloriously naked save a bath towel that barely covered his hips. He must’ve showered, Damien smirked. Michael was sound asleep, his muscled chest rising and falling with slow, even breaths.

The sight of the man, basked in the late-afternoon sun, the peaks and valleys of his torso catching the light and casting shadows… it was breath-taking. Damien slowed his movements, careful not to disturb the sleeping man. Picking up the camera he’d left on the kitchen counter, he began snapping, adjusting the focus as he slowly crept towards the bed.

The clicks of the shutter sounded almost too loud in the large, quiet space. Damien watched as Michael’s thick long lashes fluttered before his eyes opened to a slit, and a barest hint of a smile began to form around his lips.

With a fast hand, Damien caught that drifty expression on Michael’s face before he put the camera down somewhere on the floor and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Shh… go back to sleep,” he whispered then bent down to kiss Michael’s forehead as he brushed a stray strand of wavy hair away from Michael’s face.

“Hmm…” Michael’s smile widened as he nuzzled Damien’s hand. “Only if you join me,” he said, voice husky from sleep.

“You keep talking sexy like that, I’ll have to take advantage of you.” Damien grinned.

“Then why don’t you?” Michael smirked, moving to stretch and then “accidentally” letting the towel slip further away from his body.