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Just Pretend

Armande Langoustini walked up to the door and placed one hand on the doorknob before turning to the man behind him. "Go wait in the lobby."

"But, sir -"

"Relax. This isn't a business deal, capiche?"

Red-faced, the well-built man did as he was told.

Armande opened the door, but at the sight of the man sitting on the bed waiting for him, Ray Vecchio it.

"I missed you, Benny."

"I missed you too."

They were reaching for each other even before the words were out. "How much time do we have?"

"Not enough."

Fraser kissed him rather than reply. Talking could wait when they hadn't seen each other for months. For now, Ray was here and they were together. The rest would settle itself.

Ray returned the kiss wholeheartedly and raised the ante by skillfully unbuttoning Ben's shirt. His slender hands made short work of belt and jeans as well.

Feeling the cold metal of a gun when he reached to pull Ray's shirt over his shoulder, Fraser hesitated. The gun reminded him of the danger Ray was in, the danger he added to by wanting these meetings, but it also served its purpose: it kept Ray safe.

"Don't, Benny. It's okay."

"I'm sorry."

"Shh." He kissed his way down Ben's chest, nipping across muscle and skin, teasing his lover.

Nonverbal now, he groaned as Fraser pulled him under and didn't let go.


"I gotta go. Robbie's waiting downstairs."

"I know."

He reached over Fraser to his wallet on the end table. "The next time it's safe, call this number and leave a message for Joey. Same as last time."

"Be careful, Ray."

This time he was able to watch as Ray Vecchio turned back into the Bookman. He still couldn't watch as Armande walked out the door. That was why he never said, "I love you." Neither of them did. Love was between Benton Fraser and Ray Vecchio, not Benton Fraser and Armande Langoustini.