Free A Younger Man by Cameron Dane Page B

frame. Good God.
    Zane’s knee-jerk reaction to rip his stare away once more kicked in, but this time, before he did, a band suddenly constricted his chest. Instinct pulled him closer to Noah. Zane couldn’t stop himself from drinking in Noah’s incredible hardness and physique, or keep his throat from going a bit dry as he closed the distance between them. This time, though, he ignored the strange confusion he experienced when around this man, and instead zeroed in on the way Noah repeatedly clenched his jaw. He reassessed the tension in Noah’s shoulders, as well as his silence. As Zane did, his heart inexplicably tugged again.
    After putting down his roller, Zane curled his hand around Noah’s arm. God, his muscles are so fucking tight and hard . Noah jerked away, muttering a curse.
    Zane immediately lifted both hands in the air. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
    “No,” Noah rubbed his arm where Zane had touched him, as if hurt by the contact, “it’s me who should apologize. It’s fine.”
    Studying Noah more closely, Zane took note of the tightness still coiling in Noah’s hands and arms. “I notice you didn’t say you are fine.” Tingles in Zane’s palms pushed him to touch Noah, to try to ease the tension in the man. Only having known Noah for a short while, Zane squashed such a presumption. Still, the urge to help overwhelmed Zane; he kept his tone soft, and said, “I don’t think you are fine, Noah. I don’t think you’re okay at all.”
    Noah’s pupils flared. He abruptly stepped back. “It was just a poor word choice. I am.” After a terse second, he added, “Fine, I mean. I am fine.”
    The kids had abandoned painting after completing one wall together. Matt had shown Hailey and Duncan his portable gaming device, and he’d taken them outside to teach them a few games. Their loud chatter drifted through the open windows of the cabin, so Zane had no fear they would wander inside and overhear any exchange between himself and Noah. He could speak freely.
    “I know you said you enjoy the quiet, but you’ve been even quieter than the day we worked together. And maybe I don’t know you very well yet, but I feel like there’s something … I don’t know…” Zane soaked in every rigid, firm line in Noah today, much more pronounced than before, and he struggled to explain that whatever Noah had festering inside him right now had leaked through his pores and infected Zane too. “Something is off with you today. Like you’re agitated, or angry, or upset, or something like that, and that you’re biting your teeth together hard enough to wear down the enamel so that you don’t vomit what you’re thinking all over the nice walls you’re painting.”
    “You’re painting too.” With those words, Noah’s frame only locked up even tighter.
    Zane sighed. “All right, that we’re painting. That’s not the point. What I’m feeling vibrating out of you is still the same.” Compelled beyond what might be considered good manners, Zane stepped closer and put his hands on Noah’s forearms. Warm flesh immediately licked against Zane’s palms, but he ignored the buzz shimmering through his hands and went deeper to the rigidity coiling the muscle beneath. “It’s like you’re trying to keep something inside you from snapping or exploding.” Caressing down to Noah’s wrists, and then lower, Zane ran his fingertips along the tendons cording the back of Noah’s hands. Each sliver of contact filled him with accompanying tension. “Whatever you’re feeling, it’s pretty powerful.”
    Noah yanked his hands away from Zane. He whispered a string of curses as he paced across the room. Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “I apologize.” Gruffness ruled his tone. “I should be able to hide my crap better.”
    “Why?”
    Stalking around the room some more, Noah shot Zane another sideways glance. “Because it’s not professional to bring private stuff into a work