Page 98 of A Real Good Lie

“It…it wasn’t right,” he answered.

Up until last night, Jace had always seen the world differently. He’d put little to no stock in the intimacy of sex, but everything was different with Callahan. With him,everythingwas intimate, and Jace didn’t want to share any of their moments with the world. He was greedy, and he wanted to hold on to what he had before he lost it. And he knew well enough that everything would come clear to Callahan soon enough.

Jace was below his station. He couldn’t even survive a weekend with the likes of Callahan’s society friends, and it didn’t matter that Callahan didn’t feel himself around them, or that he wanted to be different than men like Rhys. It was in his blood, in the dollars he’d thrown at decorating this apartment that was finer than anything Jace would ever be able to call his own.

Thiscouldbe yours, he thought, grimacing.

Callahan would share this with him, but to what end?

He’d be on the losing side eventually, then be forced back to nothing, like he’d been for his entire life.

No thanks.

“What was wrong?” Callahan asked with a frown. “Did I not look the way you wanted me to?”

Jace shifted his eyes toward the ceiling with a small shake of his head.“It wasn’t that,” he said, “I just…”

Callahan leaned closer and pressed his chest against Jace’s side. Jace turned and Callahan kissed him, a tender, yet aggressive thing that had Jace setting the camera aside so he could hold on to Callahan for dear life.

He needed to walk away, but he didn’t know how. This would be a first for him. He’d never been the one doing the leaving before.

“I love you,” Callahan whispered against his mouth, and Jace’s heart shattered in his chest, barely contained by his bones.

“Callahan.”

“Take pictures now.” Callahan stretched out on the bed, rolling onto his side and showing Jace his back, the slope of his waist, the cut of his ribs.

Jace blinked back tears, hoping Callahan remained facing the window.

“Take pictures of the man who loves you,” Callahan said.

With trembling hands, Jace picked up his camera and turned it on. He swallowed back his trepidation and aimed, zooming in on the spots he’d held the night before as he’d taken Callahan apart.

He snapped picture after picture, and then pushed Callahan onto his chest, holding his face against the pillows. With one hand, he took more pictures, his cock growing harder with every flash of the lens. A tear slicked down his face and he used the back of his hand to wipe it away.

How cruel of Callahan to love him, when he had no place.

“Roll over,” he demanded, climbing off Callahan and giving him room to move. He stood up and turned his back, scrunching up his nose so he didn’t sniffle.

“Are you okay?” Callahan asked. Fingers grazed the back of Jace’s thigh and he jumped, spinning around quickly and raising the camera to obscure his face.

“I’m fine,” he lied. “Close your eyes.”

Callahan did, and Jace zoomed in on his favorite parts of Callahan’s body, committing them to memory and freezing them in time. He reached down and tugged at the sheet, tangling it through Callahan’s bare legs and moving lower, photographing every inch of skin he could see.

“This is making me really turned on,” Callahan whispered with a quiet laugh, and Jace responded with a watery noise in the back of his throat.

“Oh, yeah?”

In answer, Callahan pushed down the sheet and displayed his erection.

Jace set the camera on the bed and raised his hands, covering his face and pushing the pads of his fingers against his closed eyelids.

Why was his life so unfair? So cruel?

Couldn’t he have one good thing for himself that didn’t cost him everything?

Why couldn’t it be this?