Free The Deeper He Hurts by Lynda Aicher Page B

it. Go enjoy your free time.”
    Sawyer’s gaze automatically tracked to the back of the garage, to the door he couldn’t see. His idea of enjoyment was very different from most people’s. Well, except for maybe here. He chuckled at his thoughts, covering it with a cough.
    “Have you been here long?” he asked as a distraction. He recognized Cort’s name as another partner, but the company website provided only brief profiles that focused on credentials.
    Cort shrugged. “A few.” He braced his hands on his hips, T-shirt stretching over his muscled chest. Hell, who wasn’t fit here? The job pretty much required it. Cort was lean, though. An inch or two shorter than himself, his frame sleek and agile. “Finn roped me in after I discharged.”
    Military then. “Marine?”
    “Ooh-rah,” he said, fist raising. He grinned.
    Sawyer chuckled and punched the waiting fist with his own. “Just a civvy here.”
    Cort pulled a face before he laughed. “I guess we can’t all be cool.”
    “Fucker,” Sawyer chided, flipping him the bird. His instant like for the nonstoic Marine was a bit of a mystery. There weren’t a lot of people he warmed up to so quickly—not that he let a lot of people get that close to him.
    His smile died, the easy warmth chilling. He rubbed a hand over the back of his head, fingers digging into the base of his skull. Right. The ache expanded in his chest before it morphed into the numbness he preferred.
    “Do you know if Asher’s in?” he asked, already moving to the door that led into the office area.
    “He usually is.” Cort followed him down the aisle before turning off, presumably to finish his task. “I’ll probably see you around,” he called. “But I don’t work the Washington rivers much.”
    “No?” Sawyer paused.
    “I run Hells Canyon all summer.” He flashed another toothy grin. “I’m only back to restock for our next trip. I’ll be heading out tomorrow morning.”
    Sawyer nodded. “Nice meeting you.”
    He stepped into the main office, the air-conditioned comfort cooling his hot skin. Why was he so warm? The day was sunny but mild and nowhere close to the hot temps he was used to.
    The office was empty again, and Sawyer stopped to study the action photos on the wall. War had explained what Asher had been doing with the photography software. The technology was damn cool. Mick wouldn’t go for anything that fancy, but Sawyer figured there’d be a huge market for it if Asher or Kick decided to sell the technology.
    And he was putting off the meeting.
Shit
. He should listen to his gut and get the hell out before he got in too deep. However deep that was.
    “Do you need something?”
    Asher’s voice slid down his spine in a shiver so fine he simply absorbed it. His stomach tightened and he squeezed his eyes closed before putting on his game face. Or a neutral one. Normal—his normal expression.
    He turned around and eyed Asher standing in the doorway to his office. Still preppy and controlled, his emotions locked down behind his own neutral expression. An equal game then. Was there a chance Asher had enjoyed their exchange enough to do it again? He wouldn’t know if he bailed without saying something.
    “Pain.” The single word hung between them, the meaning and intention weighted with expectancy. The cramp in his stomach eased once the word was out. He’d never shied away from his need with any other sadist. He certainly wasn’t going to start now.
    Asher flicked a brow up, lips twitching. He stepped back. “Let’s talk.” He headed to his desk, his movements visible between the open blinds.
    Talk. Negotiate? Set down rules he didn’t want? Or hear a lecture on Asher’s definition of limits?
    His scowl pulled on his brows, annoyance simmering beneath his foolishness. He followed Asher, though, right into the office. The door clicked shut behind him when he gave it a shove. The office area might appear empty, but he wasn’t taking the risk of anyone