Page 45 of Private Exhibit (Gentleman Hackers #4)

ANDY STOOD back, watching Devon slowly and meticulously type out a message, engaged in what looked like an intense conversation. He still couldn't believe the boy was home. Alive. Healthy. On his way to being truly whole.

A part of Andy desperately wanted to get back to work right away, to dive in and finish repairing Devon's nerves. Another part wanted to stand in that spot forever, marveling at the sweet boy whom he got to call his .

I get to have this , he thought, shaking his head in wonder. My gods.

How did he ever get so lucky?

Andy wandered over and pressed a kiss to the top of Devon's head. “Pizza is on its way,” he announced.

“Thanks, Doc,” Oliver called from the other side of the table.

Devon looked up at him and smiled.

“Gods, you're beautiful,” Andy whispered.

Devon blushed and shyly ducked his head.

Andy chuckled, then bent down and hugged Devon from behind. He couldn't help glancing at the screen. Andy spotted Devon's username and slowly reached out, tracing his fingertip just below it. “You know, you're gonna have to change this now,” he murmured.

Devon tilted his head to one side. Hmmm , he projected telepathically. Maybe not .

Andy started to chuckle, impressed with how quickly Devon was learning to stretch his mind, but then he frowned. You think it'll always be inside you no matter what?

No, it's not that . Devon blushed, and Andy both saw it and felt it in the boy's thoughts. It's just…I thought about it. But then I realized that now I can have a different A.G. inside me all the time. A better one.

Andy frowned and slowly shook his head, trying to understand what Devon was getting at.

Then it finally clicked.

Andy threw back his head and laughed, then bent down and nuzzled Devon's ear. I'm tempted to get inside you right now.

Devon gasped.

From the other side of the table, Oliver gave a dramatic, put-upon sigh. “Would you guys just go fuck already?”

Devon turned bright red, but before Andy could take Oliver's suggestion, a knock sounded on the front door, signaling the arrival of dinner.

Despite what Andy had said, he knew he actually wanted to wait. He wanted their next experience together to be one in which Devon was fully mobile and fully able to feel, with no worries that something might go wrong.

So in the meantime, night after night, Andy took Devon into the shower with him and jerked off while the boy watched, that intense, avid gaze making him feel like a king.

Then Andy would do whatever it took to make Devon come.

It got easier—and far more intense—once Andy got Devon's sensory nerves repaired.

My gods . If he'd thought the boy was responsive before, having nothing hindering his sense of touch made it so much hotter.

They were getting so close. So close to being done. And all the other repairs had completely held. Every day at work, Andy found himself documenting his findings like a madman, noting down every tiny detail he'd noticed while working on Devon.

It got to the point that he had to give up the morgue entirely because he spent so much time in his old office. But he didn't want to simply pick back up where he'd left off four years ago. He wanted more now.

Andy walked down the hall and stopped at Crawford's secretary's desk. “Is he in?”

“He's on a call,” the secretary announced. “It should be just a few minutes.”

Andy waited, then walked into the office when the secretary announced him.

“Gerard,” Crawford greeted him, standing up to shake his hand. “Thank you for waiting. My son called and had to tell me about an art project he was doing for school.” The man smiled fondly. “I never get tired of things like that.”

Andy smiled back. “I'm happy for you,” he said, and he meant it.

“So what can I do for you?” Crawford resumed his seat and gestured at the chairs across from him.

But Andy was too keyed up to sit. He pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket and handed it over.

“What's this?” Crawford asked.

“My resumé.”

Crawford looked puzzled. “Why?”

“I want to work for you.”

Crawford blinked in obvious surprise, his eyes going wide.

“I know you're expanding your practice and your study of telekinetic bioengineering,” Andy went on, “and I want to be a part of it.

I want to learn. I want to experience the full potential of what the human body can do, even if that means going outside the bounds of traditional medicine.

I'd still like to run my study of Ashworth-Grahams and see if there isn't some sort of cure that can be synthesized to match what you did for Devon–”

“What we did for Devon,” Crawford corrected.

Andy acknowledged that with a nod of thanks, then went on. “I want to practice again.”

Crawford raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you could take orders from me? You seem like the type who needs to be in charge and have name recognition.”

Andy shook his head. “I never wanted to be a household name. Right now, I just want to save lives instead of surrounding myself with death.”

Crawford studied him for a long moment.

Andy waited, feeling more nervous than he thought he might.

Finally, Crawford stood up and said, “Tell you what. How about you work with me instead?”

“What do you mean?”

“Reopen Diagnostics. I'll easily grant that you were always a better diagnostician than any of us here. The hospital could use you again. The patients could use you. And if you get a patient whose mind is receptive to telepathy, just think of the diagnostics you'll be able to do.”

Andy's eyebrows went up. My gods . He could potentially find the cause of a problem without running a single other test. Spot cancers and infections before they really took hold. The possibilities were endless.

“Who knows,” Crawford went on. “Maybe we'll design new equipment together. More advanced scanners. Find ways to detect and treat problems that were always deemed incurable. And now that we know what Ashworth-Grahams really looks like…”

“We have a chance to design a medicine that actually works,” Andy realized aloud.

“Exactly.”

Andy couldn't help grinning with excitement. He couldn't wait to get started.

“Sound like a deal?” Crawford asked.

“Deal,” Andy agreed, shaking the man's hand.

“Good.” Crawford resumed his seat. “I'll talk to Bokin sometime this week.”

“About what?”

Crawford grinned at him. “We're going to need a bigger office.”

Andy went home feeling twenty years younger, thrilled by all the possibilities that life had to offer.

And that was all thanks to Devon. Thanks to the boy who saw so much good and beauty in the world and wasn't afraid to take the time to enjoy it.

Andy grabbed Devon the moment he walked through the door, kissing him like he never wanted to come up for air.

Devon swayed in his arms. “What was that for?”

“I just love you so much,” Andy murmured. “And I had a really good day.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. What about you?”

Devon's smile slipped. “Oliver decided he's moving out. He said he doesn't want to intrude on us anymore.”

“I told him he could stay as long as he wanted.”

“I know. But I'm all better now. I don't need someone watching me every moment. And he insists he has to get back up on his own two feet.” Devon paused. “I respect that, but it's gonna be hard to see him go.”

“You'll still see each other all the time, I'm sure.”

Devon nodded.

Andy tilted his head. “Alright. What is it? What else is on your mind?”

Devon blushed.

“What are you really thinking about, sweet boy?” Andy murmured.

Devon squirmed. “I was thinking about the night we met.”

Andy moved in closer. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Devon breathed. “I was trying to work up the nerve to say we should go there again.” He gulped. “Maybe…you know…do a scene.”

Andy considered that. “Would you be comfortable with strangers watching you?”

“No,” Devon admitted. “But I know how much you like it. I wanted to do something to make you happy.”

Andy framed Devon's face with both hands. “ You make me happy. I don't need anything else.”

Devon gave him a blushing smile and looked down.

“Tell you what,” Andy said. “Maybe we'll work up to it. And we'll start with this.”

“Start with what?” Devon asked as Andy took his hand and led him to the bedroom.

Andy shut the door, then put Devon in the middle of the room. He left the boy there, then went back to the control panel on the wall, switching off the clear glass and turning every surface into a mirror instead.

Devon gasped.

Andy stalked towards him. “I would love to go to the club with you, sweetheart.

I'd love nothing more than to show you off.

To perform in front of all those people and show them you're mine.

But if you're never comfortable with that, then this would be enough for me.” He hugged Devon from behind and turned them slowly in a circle, catching their reflections everywhere they looked.

“We can have our own little private show right here. An exhibition just for the two of us.”

Devon's breathing picked up. “Daddy…”

Andy chuckled and gave Devon a kiss, then slowly undressed the boy, taking his time, stripping him bare. Once Devon was naked, Andy stood in front of Devon and undressed himself, shuddering with pleasure at the wide-eyed, hungry look that was fixed on him the whole time.

He pulled Devon up onto the bed and knelt behind him, hugging Devon back to his chest as he teased and touched him all over, holding his gaze in the mirrored wall directly across from them.

Gods . Andy loved him so much.

It wasn't the life he'd imagined for himself. But what had Vorena said? She'd taken the cards she'd been dealt and made it work. So maybe Andy didn't have all the things he'd always wanted, but he certainly had everything he needed . Everything and more, thanks to this sweet boy.

“Look at you,” Andy murmured in awe, brushing a kiss along Devon's shoulder as he teased a hand down between Devon's legs. “Look at how beautiful you are. Gods. Look at how alive you are.”

Devon's nostrils flared, his eyes seeming to grow darker by the second. “Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?”

Devon blushed, smiling shyly at him. “Maybe mirrors aren't so bad after all…”

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