In My Arms Tonight

By Bailey Bradford

James Stratton's moral cost him everything and he never thought he'd recover until one very stubborn, loving man showed James he deserved to be loved.

James Stratton was proof there was such a thing as a lawyer with morals—and he paid a very high price for them. A successful plan to stop a sadistic murderer ended up costing James everything. After being kidnapped and assaulted, he was held in a facility' where he was kept medicated, ostensibly for his own good. In reality, his parents had had him kidnapped again—for his own safety, they'd claim, once he'd been freed.

Glenn Shearing, former FBI agent and deeply closeted, fell for James before he ever met him. All it'd taken was reading the file on the extraordinary man, and Glenn knew he'd found someone worth stepping out of the closet for. He risked everything to free James, and didn't consider it much of a loss when he left his job and headed for Texas.

James needs all the help he can get after what he's been through, and Glenn wants to be there for him. James isn't ready for any kind of intimacy, not after being hurt physically and emotionally. But will he push Glenn away one time too many? Or will he let Glenn's love help him heal?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pride Publishing
• Release date: Apr 23, 2012
• ISBN: 9780857159502

Bailey Bradford

A native Texan, Bailey spends her days spinning stories around in her head, which has contributed to more than one incident of tripping over her own feet. Evenings are reserved for pounding away at the keyboard, as are early morning hours. Sleep? Doesn't happen much. Writing is too much fun, and there are too many characters bouncing about, tapping on Bailey's brain demanding to be let out. Caffeine and chocolate are permanent fixtures in Bailey's office and are never far from hand at any given time. Removing either of those necessities from Bailey's presence can result in what is known as A Very, Very Scary Bailey and is not advised under any circumstances.

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A Total-E-Bound Publication

www.total-e-bound.com

In My Arms Tonight

ISBN # 978-0-85715-950-2

©Copyright Bailey Bradford 2012

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright April 2012

Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

Total-E-Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2012 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

Warning:

This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-melting and a sexometer of 3.

This story contains 179 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 9 pages.

Love in Xxchange

IN MY ARMS TONIGHT

Bailey Bradford

Book eight in the Love in Xxchange Series

James Stratton’s morals cost him everything and he never thought he’d recover until one very stubborn, loving man showed James he deserved to be loved.

James Stratton was proof there was such a thing as a lawyer with morals—and he paid a very high price for them. A successful plan to stop a sadistic murderer ended up costing James everything. After being kidnapped and assaulted, he was held in a ‘facility’ where he was kept medicated, ostensibly for his own good. In reality, his parents had had him kidnapped again—for his own safety, they’d claim, once he’d been freed.

Glenn Shearing, former FBI agent and deeply closeted, fell for James before he ever met him. All it’d taken was reading the file on the extraordinary man, and Glenn knew he’d found someone worth stepping out of the closet for. He risked everything to free James, and didn’t consider it much of a loss when he left his job and headed for Texas.

James needs all the help he can get after what he’s been through, and Glenn wants to be there for him. James isn’t ready for any kind of intimacy, not after being hurt physically and emotionally. But will he push Glenn away one time too many? Or will he let Glenn’s love help him heal?

Dedication

To those who’ve been hurt but refused to be defeated.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Walmart: Wal-Mart Stores, Inc.

Tahoe: Chevrolet; General Motors

Holiday Inn: Holiday Inn Hotels

Armani: Giorgio Armani S.p.A

Vans: Vans Inc.

He-Man: Mattel; Mattel Inc.

Xanax: Pfizer Inc

Levi’s: Levi Strauss & Co.

Mack Truck: Mack Trucks Inc.

Disney: The Walt Disney Company

Chapter One

Everything he’d used to define himself by was gone, jerked out from under his feet so quickly he could barely grasp what had happened. Certainly, he’d had plenty of culpability in it all, and the results weren’t exactly unexpected. Yet the reality of it was…harsh, frightening. It had seemed an easily dealt with thing in his mind, this altering of his future and self, but now that it was happening, fear clawed at his gut and doubt drove into his mind.

It was possible he’d fucked up everything in his life. He’d been so sure before, but now—a fine time to be questioning himself, as it was too late—Shearing couldn’t stop fearing he’d done something—well, really several somethings—incredibly stupid and rash, although he didn’t feel bad at all about getting James Stratton free of the clinic he’d been kept in. But maybe he could have gone about it in a more…legal…way. Chances were that Xavier Talbot and Chase Murphy would be in jail then, and while that would have Shearing’s ass out of the sling, the idea of either of those two men in jail didn’t sit right with him.

And maybe, he wanted to be the one responsible for freeing James Stratton. He hadn’t done as much as he’d have liked to there, but he had taken out the alarms and the cameras…not that he was ever going to admit that to his bosses. He knew they knew he’d done it, but proving it…well, there was a reason he’d moved up so quickly in twenty years. He’d always been rather brilliant with techie stuff, or at least good enough not to get caught. It wasn’t a lack of skill that had busted him this time, either, but rather the fact that his boss knew him too well.

Even so, that still didn’t mean he’d be dumb enough to confess, and judging by the slight curl to Jane Guilliano’s lips and the spark in her pale eyes, she neither expected him nor wanted him to admit to having anything to do with the ‘attack’ on the facility where James had been held. She waited until they were alone in her office then she rose and walked to him, placing one well-manicured hand on his as he started to get up. Shearing tensed, her touch familiar in a faint way, the muscle memory of their affair years ago still somewhat keyed into his body’s reactions. Those icy eyes of hers narrowed as her grip tightened briefly.

You know we know, Glenn.

He cringed as her perfectly formed lips formed his first name. It was, in his opinion, tantamount to her crossing a line she really shouldn’t have. Years ago, when they’d been lovers for a while. It’d been good, intense, but they were both too competitive and career-minded to make anything last between them. And now Jane was his boss and he was…well he was fucked by his own actions.

Shearing turned his most bland look on his former lover and boss. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jane."

Her full lips thinned and she let go of his hand. I’m not asking you to admit it, she snapped, walking back to her seat behind the desk. "In fact, I don’t want you to admit it. Believe it or not, I like you. You’re a good employee and, until recently, I would have said completely dedicated to your job. But now, Jane seared him with a look he couldn’t dodge. Now, something’s changed with you. This job doesn’t mean everything like it did, like it does to me. Something else obviously means much more, and if that’s the way it’s going to remain, I suggest you walk away from here while you can, before I can’t keep your ass from landing in more trouble than you are prepared to deal with."

I think being denied my retirement is more than I’m willing to deal with, Shearing said calmly. I’ve been here twenty years come next month, and I am not willing to just flush that down the toilet. Although he probably had, which would definitely suck. Still, he’d fight for his retirement. He’d damned well earned it, and what he’d done, exposing the ‘rehab’ centre, wasn’t anything he should be punished for, at least not severely. I won’t roll over and be screwed on this, Jane. They couldn’t prove anything, and Shearing made certain to keep his expression neutral, his body relaxed. They’d not find a hint of guilt in him, especially when he didn’t feel guilty for what he’d done. Was that how criminals felt? The thought chilled him, though he kept the reaction buried.

Jane huffed softly and leant back in her chair. She studied him for a moment then nodded. You do understand his parents are going nuts, throwing fits, bitching to the media and everyone they can, claiming Chase Murphy has kidnapped their son?

Shearing nodded. He’d seen the news, read the papers. He’d also made sure both sources received—from an anonymous informant—copies of the medical evaluations done on James Stratton, claiming he was mentally competent to represent himself. Those same evals were amended with another doctor’s orders—to ignore the evals and keep James in an ‘unobjectionable’ state, per his parents’ request. The older Stratton’s were denying all of it, especially that last bit. Shearing would have liked to believe them, but he didn’t know what to think at this point, and it wasn’t like they would talk to him. He was now in league with the evil Chase Murphy in their opinion…and they were right, although he wouldn’t peg Murphy as evil, but whatever.

Jane tapped the desk with her fingers for a minute before huffing again. Shearing merely arched a brow at her. "Fine, I can probably see to it that you keep your retirement—if you use the leave you’ve got stored up to finish out the time left. The look she gave him was so shrewd he was afraid she was peering right into his brain. That should give you enough time to take care of things here, before you go off chasing after— she stopped and shook her head. Since you won’t be working here, I’m just going to risk saying this. I never thought you were interested in men, Glenn. When you and I were together, you were a…vigorous lover. You certainly seemed to enjoy a woman’s body."

Shearing gave her a nod and stood. I did. Then he turned and left her office. He wouldn’t explain what he felt for James to his boss or anyone else, just like he wouldn’t admit his part in something that hadn’t hurt anyone innocent and had helped free some people from what was, really, their being held against their will.

Besides, he still wasn’t sure what it was he felt for James Stratton. Or rather, he was, and it puzzled and terrified him—and he couldn’t wait to see the man himself. Shearing had never felt such an elemental pull towards another man—or woman, for that matter, but the man part…well, he’d battled that kind of attraction for so long, at first because it would have meant the death of his dream career to act on it, then because it was so ingrained to deny himself.

But he’d been given the case of one James Stratton, and something about the redhead had got to Shearing before he’d ever even met the man. He’d dug and done more research than was strictly necessary, and had felt like he’d known James before they ever found him, and somehow, the man had already been wedged into a small corner of Shearing’s heart by that point. It was ridiculous and illogical and girly and…and completely and utterly true, and powerful and tempting enough that Shearing had just given up his career for it. He didn’t doubt for a minute that James would be worth it.

Chapter Two

It was the same dream—nightmare, it was a nightmare—that woke him up every night. When he’d been in the ‘clinic’ his parents had stuck him in, he’d usually been too drugged up to fight his way to consciousness. That had been a particularly nasty hell, unable to escape the hands hurting him, and other things he couldn’t think about.

James shuddered hard enough that his teeth clacked as he shoved himself up and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. His ankles twitched, the skin going cold. His heart was hammering in his chest. The unreasonable fear of something grabbing his ankles overwhelmed him and he hitched his legs up, scooting back onto the middle of the bed. He looped his arms over his knees, noticing the dampness of his pyjama bottoms. The night sweats were another common experience. He woke up drenched and terrified and both were secrets he didn’t want to share.

If Chase found out how fucked up he was, James would never have a moment’s peace. Granted, Chase would nag and badger him with the best of intentions, but James did not want to talk about what had happened. He didn’t want to think about any of it, and the fact that his damned mind kept spilling the horrific experiences he’d had night after night was pushing James close to an edge—one that he couldn’t be sure of surviving a fall over.

That scared James more than anything else, really. He’d never been any kind of a quitter, had always been level-headed, but his world had been tipped off its axis and nothing felt stable, not even the friendships he had. Chase was the only one he really knew here, but he was involved with Xavier—and James was glad for him, he really was—but he didn’t quite know how to handle it. A happy, smiling, loving Chase was kind of an alien creature, although it made James smile every time his friend gave Xavier that sappy-in-love look.

He’d heard Adam Masterson lived somewhere close by and had fallen for a cop named Les Stanton. James cringed when he thought of seeing Adam, though. Not that Adam had done anything wrong, at all. But it had been Adam who’d almost been assaulted by Mitch Rollins Jr, the son of James’ boss at the law firm he worked for. Mitchell Rollins Sr had been a powerful man. Adam had ended up in jail for defending himself. Money and threats had kept the younger Rollins from ever being prosecuted for his crimes. Jr had a propensity for raping any young man he could. Once James found out the truth about his boss aiding in his son’s crimes, James had known Mitch Rollins Jr had to be stopped.

He’d turned to Chase for help, and Adam had become involved too. Hell had rained down on the three of them once Jr had been busted. James, Chase and Adam had become targets for Rollins Sr’s revenge. James wasn’t sure what all Adam had suffered, and he just couldn’t deal with finding out at this point. At least he thought Adam was mostly okay since he had a man who loved him, a man he could trust.

Nick was here, somewhere. James didn’t really know him, though. He’d thought the older man attractive when he’d met him months ago, but it’d been obvious Nick was hung up on someone else and had plenty of personal problems to boot. Once James had met the man’s mother, not long after Nick’s visit to the office, James had understood why Nick might be a bit of a mess. His mother was a world-class bitch—but the foreman who’d come in with her, Carlos something-or-another, he’d been hot in that craggy, rough way that James sometimes found appealing.

James shied away from such thoughts now. He didn’t want to think about anything like that. He closed his eyes and rocked jerkily, his forehead pressed to his bony knees. When the images started he began humming an old lullaby his mother used to sing to him. The comforting tune chased off most of the terrible memories even as it brought up questions—like why had his parents, who’d always loved him, stuck him in a hellhole only a step or two above the one Rollins had held him in? Until he talked to them, James wouldn’t have the answers he needed, but the idea of calling them or seeing them just yet was too much to cope with. He needed time to recover, maybe get himself together if he possibly could.

James stopped humming long enough to laugh at that idea. At the rate he was going, he’d be able to have that chat with his parents in a couple of decades, if he was lucky. Their betrayal—and that’s what it was to him, no matter how he tried to reason it out—hurt as much as what had been done to him by the others who’d almost destroyed him. They knew him; they should have known, should have seen past the drugs given to him to keep him practically comatose, for God’s sake!

The north wind doth blow, James mumbled, singing the nursery rhyme in a soft, shaky voice, since humming just wasn’t cutting it tonight. He wondered if this nursery rhyme, like so many he knew of, was really about something scary. He didn’t see how. It was a simple song, and he didn’t want to dwell on ways it might not be simple after all. Two sentences, that’s all there was, and he wouldn’t let them mean anything other than what they actually said. And the little robin he’d worried about every time his mother sang this song? That little bird was going to wake up to a warm, sunny day full of good things, damn it.

And so, by fucking God, would he.

* * * *

The pounding on the front door threatened to demolish James’ vow of hours earlier. Crusty eyes cracking open, he moaned as he unfolded. He’d fallen asleep sitting hunched over. There wasn’t a part of him that didn’t seem to ache, and he hated being woken up by loud noises. And Chase was definitely raising a ruckus. If James had any doubt as to who was rattling the door on its hinges, Chase’s hollering his name would have eradicated it.

Coming! James shouted as he stumbled away from the bed. His knees were throbbing from being bent for hours, and his forehead felt sore, tender from being pressed against his knees. Jesus, Chase, cut it out! he snapped when the pounding continued. I’m not going to open the damn door if you don’t stop!

You know I can get in anyway, Chase called out, and James grunted. Chase could have got in without all the noise, but James was glad he hadn’t. He didn’t want to think about how he’d have reacted if he’d woken up and found someone, even Chase, in the room with him. Maybe he’d have done fine, but he was more afraid he’d have freaked out and wailed and curled into a shivering, quivering ball.

He could live without that humiliation.

James wiped sweaty palms on his probably stinky PJ’s then started unlocking the door. By the time he got the final lock undone he’d managed to wrangle his temper under control and thought he’d be able to pull off acting normal. If he could remember what that was.

Except, as soon as he opened the door, he realised he’d failed to take into account how shitty he must look after another bad night, and he hadn’t thought about how he must smell like stale sweat and fear—because if anyone could detect such a scent, it’d be Chase.

Chase’s bright eyes narrowed as he stepped inside. James wanted to hide from that knowing stare, but forced himself to keep his limbs loose and a half-smile on his face. And if Chase’s eyes narrowed any more, he’d be glaring at James through his eyelids. James crossed his arms over his chest before he could stop himself.

What? he bit out as he shoved the door shut with his foot. He uncrossed his arms long enough to lock the locks, then he fought an internal battle to settle his hands at his hips rather than taking that defensive pose again.

Chase merely stared at him for another moment. You look like you’ve had a rough night, James. He said it so softly, his voice laced with so much concern, it made James’ eyes burn.

He turned away before he did something embarrassing, like beg Chase to hold him while he cried like a baby. Haven’t had any coffee yet, was the only excuse he could come up with. You woke me up.

James…

A bare on his shoulder made him tense before he could stop himself. He tried to play it off, act like he hadn’t flinched, and hoped it didn’t look like he was running to the coffee pot. It wasn’t that he couldn’t stand to be touched—Chase had hugged him, touched him like a caring friend would, but James always saw those touches coming. It unnerved him to be touched without knowing it was going to happen—and he wasn’t going there. This was supposed to be his sunny, warm, happy morning, damn it.

Chase moved up beside him and this time, when his fingers brushed over James’ shoulder, it didn’t startle him. Still, James kept his gaze trained on the filters that didn’t seem to want to separate. At the rate his fumbling fingers were going, he’d end up with half a dozen of the filters in the pot and there’d be a hell of a mess to clean up.

I’ve got it, James, Chase said as he eased the filters out of James’