Chapter 9

Desperate grabs for support became frantic groping as two pairs of hands clutched and pressed, passing from awkward to eager. Rowan shifted, feeling Tom’s firm body beneath his, along with the sudden thrust of a stiff prick stretching the soft fabric of the other man’s trousers. His own rose in response to fight the restraint of his flight suit’s sturdy knit cloth.

Moving a bit more, he found Tom’s face inches away—a pair of brilliant blue eyes flaming with excitement and a pair of lips beckoning for the touch of Rowan’s. He answered that call. For an instant, he thought the claxon was just a strange response to the power of that kiss. Then he realized the sound came from the speakers in the lounge ceiling.

Alarm!They were in danger or under attack. He fought free from the mist of arousal and struggled to his feet.

He stuck one hand down to Tom. “Something’s wrong. Come on. I have to go find out.”

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