Mark Vincent has risen from senior special agent to Director of Interior Affairs in the WBIS. Lately, life has been sweet for him -- in addition to his promotion, he's found a partner in Quinton Mann, who can almost match his ability in the intelligence field, in spite of the fact Quinn's CIA. Mark has also found a condo in Alexandria with the help of Portia Mann, Quinn's mother, and it's closer to Quinn's town house than Mark's present apartment. Sweetest of all, Mark plans to take Quinn to his island in the Caribbean for the holidays.<br><br>Quinn's glad he has the holiday with Mark to look forward to -- something is going on at Langley, and he feels he's being kept out of the loop. To make matters even worse, useless missions and sleepless nights filled with nightmares are leaving him exhausted. But then his mother's life if threatened, and Quinn discovers the accident that resulted in her hospitalization was no accident. The obsessively self-absorbed Senator Wexler is involved, and while Quinn considers himself a civilized man, now he's out for blood.<br><br>Up until this point, Mark has stayed out of Quinn's CIA business. But hurting Quinn and those he loves isn't a smart move, and Mark has every intention of seeing Wexler pays. Quinn demands to come along, and while Mark isn't happy, he finally agrees, and they set out together to deal with the senator. There's just one catch: this will be the first time Quinn sees Mark at his deadly best, and Mark isn't sure how his lover will react.

Forever

Quinn looked over his shoulder at me, puzzled, but he did as I asked. I got on the bench behind him and put my arms around him. I tugged the rolled collar of his sweater aside with my teeth and nuzzled the side of his neck.


“Keep playing,” I said softly. I blew into his ear and began whispering, telling him what I wanted to do to him, what I wanted him to do to me. Beneath my palm, I could feel his heart beating in a slow, heavy thud.


The final chords of the song hung in the air, and we sat like that for a minute. Then I swung off the bench and stood between my lover and the piano.


“Quinn.” I ran my fingers from his cheekbone to his chin and raised it. His pupils were dilated with passion, and he was breathing rapidly. “The rug.”


Chapter 90