A Bid For Love

a shade or two paler. "Scott, you... why? "
    Lord, the big lug was just adorable. "Didn't you read those emails I sent?" Scott tried to ease his breathing, a damned hard thing when Asher stood there with his pants down, looking like he needed to be kissed into oblivion more than anything else. "You're probably the most complicated man I've ever met, but you're also the simplest to understand. Once a person gets what makes you tick. And I have."
    He smiled at how easy it had been. "You have this huge heart full of caring you keep locked up tighter than we do national secrets. But if anyone can manage to get past all your security, you're one hundred percent invested in them. You'd do anything for someone you loved. There isn't a fire big enough to keep you from them or from helping them. I want that sort of love, Asher. And I want the passion that goes with it. You go on a rant, all I can see is how deep your feelings run, and I want it all channeled to me."
    He pushed away from the wall, unable to stand the scant feet separating him from Asher. "I want to be first in someone's life for a change. I need someone with fire and emotion and romance. I need someone who cares." He dared to spread his hand wide over the starched white cotton still covering Asher's chest. "Your heart beats full of so much love it snatches the breath right out of my lungs. I look at you and I think of stupid cliché romance crap. Long nights of lovemaking, walks on beaches and in woods, listening to you talk about things I don't understand in the least, but I just like hearing the passion and sound of your voice." He stopped to laugh. "Giving you roses. There are three dozen out in the other room because I couldn't decide what color you might like most."
    "You...bought me roses?" There, there was that lovely little break in the stage voice, turning the deep baritone from solid steel to brushed velvet.
    "Yeah. I sort of like doing romantic things. And I know you like them. Makes it better when you know the gift will be appreciated." Scott reached for Asher's hand. "Ash, give me a chance? It's all I'm really asking. This could be my one shot at the life I want. Let me romance you and show you I can be what you want, too."
    The snort didn't sound quite so painful this time. "How can you possibly know what I want? I don't even know what the hell I want." But Asher's fingers moved to twine with his. "You really weren't kidding. I'm sorry. For punching you out, for... God, for all those awful things I thought and the few I said."
    "Oh, it's all right, darlin'. I expected you to punch me. Or maybe try to strangle me. Or both. I knew it wouldn't be easy." Scott squeezed Asher's hand, joy at that bit of trust setting fireworks off inside him. "I figured it'd be worth it." The half-step separating them was too wide and he closed the gap, body against the rumpled white cotton of Asher's shirt. "Let's take a long weekend and figure out what you want." The curve of Asher's jaw fit Scott's lips so well he had to linger. "I just have to keep hoping it turns out to be me."

    * * * *
    The sensation of Scott's lips on Asher's jaw line somehow couldn't compete with the feel of strong fingers twining with his own. How was it possible for holding hands to feel far more intimate than the brush of soft lips on his skin? Asher's mind rocketed through his last few dates. Had he ever held hands with any of them? Or had them discuss wanting to take romantic walks? No, not a one. He'd bedded most of them, but it had been just sex, the empty "I'll call you tomorrow" left behind him.
    And now Scott Jamison held tight to his hand and swore he loved Asher!
    He supposed it hadn't been that surprising, if he considered it in the light of teammates, friends, family sorts of love and bonding that happened between agents. Especially when you'd been together so long. He knew, could feel it, when everyone else jumped wholeheartedly into the incessant digs and pranks--which he might actually deserve now and again, but the glee of it just twinged wrong. But Scott never really did more than hover about the edges, aside from their own personal comments of plotting each other's murder. If anything, Scott went out of his way to make sure it never got too rough, made sure Asher knew the teasing was more out of affectionate exasperation than actual cruelty.
    But never in his wildest dreams had Asher expected to be standing here, nude or nearly so, with Scott's hand in his and those full