Secret Light (18 page)

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Authors: Z. A. Maxfield

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #LGBT WWII-era Historical

BOOK: Secret Light
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dragged in at around three a.m. He toed off his shoes in the doorway and put his gun

and belt away safely in the closet. Usually he changed before he left work, carrying his

uniform in a suit bag, but this night he peeled his uniform shirt off while crossing the

room toward Rafe.

“God almighty, what a night.”

Rafe’s eyes fluttered open. “I’m sorry. I must have dozed off. What happened?”

Ben leaned down and took a kiss before sliding to the floor to sit. Mooki padded

over, and he pulled her into his lap. It soothed him to stroke her soft fur. As she nuzzled

in and went to sleep, he would have sworn she was trying to purr like a cat.

Ben closed his eyes and breathed it all in. He smelled pine and pipe tobacco. Cedar

and whiskey and man. Smoke from the fireplace, although only embers glowed in the

grate. Rafe was playing a Christmas record, or maybe it was the radio. His fingers

drifted through Ben’s hair as Bing Crosby crooned “White Christmas.”

Ben laid his cheek on Rafe’s chest. “People were beating each other. They were

beating their kids. We got called to a car accident where some poor college boy flew

through the windshield and died on the street.”

“Oh, Ben.” Rafe stroked his hair.

“It was awful. It’s hard to scrub those things from my mind once they’re in there.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“And
Calhoun
. That bastard called me a pansy to my face today.”

“Sheisse.”

Rafe’s hand had stopped moving, but Ben patted it gently, giving it an extra

squeeze to get it going in little circles on his scalp again. “It’s all right.”

“How can it be? What if the others believe him?”

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126

“I-I may need to take a girl to the Christmas party.” Ben glanced at Rafe unhappily.

“I may need to pretend that I’m seeing someone. Put a picture in my locker.”

“Smart boy.” Rafe pressed a kiss to his temple. “If you must to throw them off the

scent, you must.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you for the world, Rafe, you know I wouldn’t, but—”

“I know who you are, Ben. Just as you know who I am.”

Ben frowned. “I know finding you with a girl on your lap was no picnic.”

Rafe dropped his hand to Ben’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. If I’d known you’d see that,

I wouldn’t have done it, but I keep up a certain pretense at work—”

“It’s nothing. We can’t worry about things like that anymore. We have to be

practical because we have everything to lose if we’re found out.”

Rafe let out a sigh and nodded. “I understand.”

“I’m sorry I have to ask this of you.”

“I’ve lived all my life with secrets. I will keep ours, just as I trust you to keep it.” He

winked. “I told you I could be an excellent spy. I wasn’t exaggerating.”

“I know.”

“But I can’t imagine choosing a girl to be a sacrificial lamb. Making her believe

there might be a future—”

“No. I need to find someone who won’t become emotionally involved.” Ben had

been thinking about that for a while, long before Rafe came into the picture. It would

have to be casual. Maybe even a professional. “I can make arrangements. I might be

able to find someone discreet who needs a little cash. Or someone with something

equally damning to hide.”

“Christ, Ben. You’d actually pay—”

“Pay to be with you? Yes. Lie?
Of course
. What’s another commandment when I’ve

already—”

“Don’t joke.” Rafe pushed him away. “Not about this.”

Z. A. Maxfield | Secret Light

127

“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep both of us safe.”

“All right.”

“As long as you… You won’t mind? You’ll understand?”

“How can I mind? You’ve given me so much already. I’ll take whatever you offer.

I’d be grateful”—Rafe swallowed hard—“for anything.”

“Thank you.” Ben’s face softened into a fond smile.

Rafe drew in a breath and smiled back to break the tension. “In the meantime, I’ll

keep flirting with cocktail waitresses and telling the sad story of my young lover in

Vienna who died.”

“You
dog
. Is that what you do?”

Rafe shrugged, but his face colored. “I’m ashamed to say it is. I tell them I believe if

I remain pure, God will let us be together in heaven.”

Ben snorted. “And they
buy
that?”

“My dear Ben, I can sell anything. No one says no to Rafe Colman.”

Ben tilted his head and studied his lover. “I know I never will. I swear. Whatever

you want from me, whatever you need, it’s yours, Rafe. All you have to do is ask.”

Rafe lifted his face for a kiss that turned out to be so much more than a kiss. It was a

promise, a preview, a covenant between them. Whatever they had, it needed the

reverence with which Ben pressed his lips to Rafe’s. It needed the sharing of silent vows

and breath and body heat.

Rafe responded with astonishing passion, opening for dizzy, drugging kisses that

reached all the way into Ben’s soul.

Everything is going to be fine.

Rafe was
perfect
. Yielding and giving, he wrapped his arms around Ben and

welcomed him, stroking his back, his hair, and the sides of his face until Ben pushed

away, head spinning as he gazed down at his lover.

His lover.

Z. A. Maxfield | Secret Light

128

Ben felt oddly expansive—like he’d suddenly grown three sizes. Things were

clearer in his mind. The air was purer, the ceiling higher, and the contrast between light

and shadow more pronounced.

Everything fell into place as if time and gravity conspired together on his and Rafe’s

behalf.

“This is nice.”

Understatement of the century.

It was
perfect
—a bona fide golden moment. The kind Ben knew to store up and

savor. The kind he was smart enough to hold on to because they were so few and far

between.

“As a kid, when I imagined what it would be like to find someone, it was never as

good as this.”

“Like this? Like what?” Rafe murmured, his hand sliding down to brush along

Ben’s cheek and jaw.

Ben caught Rafe’s hand and kissed it. “I feel
right
. Like I’m finally exactly where I

should be.”

“But you’re not a detective yet. You don’t have your shield and your gum shoes.”

Rafe smiled as he shifted, sitting up, dropping his feet to the ground on either side of

Ben while he continued his one-handed massage. He worked his way down Ben’s neck,

pinching and kneading the muscles there until Ben groaned with pleasure and dropped

his head back helplessly to rest on Ben’s knee.

“I’m going to be. I know it. I’ll take the test, and I’ll get the job because I’m that

good.”

“Confidence is very attractive.” Rafe leaned over and kissed his ear.

“I’ll slog through whatever it takes, including riding with a bastard like Jim

Calhoun and—”

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129

“Men like Calhoun will always exist,” Rafe whispered. “But you’ll be whatever you

want to be in spite of them.”

“I’m not going to let him get away with treating me like dirt anymore.” Ben placed

Mooki aside as gently as he could, giving her an extra pat.

“You’re a good man, Ben.”

“So are you.” Ben smoothed the palms of his hands up Rafe’s thighs. He pulled the

drawstring on Rafe’s pajamas and was rewarded by a surprised gasp from Rafe when

he pulled the waistband down to free his cock.

“Look at that. So beautiful.” He wrapped a hand around Rafe’s cock and leaned

over to give the plum-colored head a light lick. “So beautiful. Do you like this, Rafe?”

Rafe nodded.

Ben gazed at the column of flesh—so like the man, so lean and long and proud.

So…elegant. He gripped the base of Rafe’s shaft, watching slick liquid pearls of

moisture bead at the tip, using it to smooth his way as he pumped his fist over the

length of him in long, languid strokes while he used his other hand to cup his balls.

“I love touching you like this. Love taking your flesh in my hands. Love watching

your face. I make you feel what I want you to feel. You’re helpless when I do that, aren’t

you?”

Rafe’s jaw had gone slack, and he pinkened with desire. He nodded.

“I love knowing I’m the man who makes you feel this way.”

Rafe leaned back against the couch, watching him, waiting.

“But I want to know you, Rafe. Not just…this. I want to know who you really are.”

Ben felt Rafe stiffen just before he closed his eyes—leaving Ben to feel as though an

iron wall dropped between them.

“I can’t help wondering”—Ben spoke quietly, catching Rafe’s hand in his and

holding it tight—“what could make someone so desperately afraid they’d send their

child out of the country alone rather than wait a couple of days and travel together?”

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130

After a long silence, Rafe spoke. “Practicing your detective skills?”

Ben shook his head. “Asking my lover a question.”

“My Mutti was sick. She couldn’t travel. They planned to join me in Switzerland,

but they never made it.” His hand grew cold in Ben’s.

“They were Austrian nationals?” Ben asked.

“Yes.”

“And they opposed the Nazis, so they were killed.”

“Yes. I told you. It’s the truth.”

“But there’s more to the story, isn’t there?” Ben waited. When Rafe didn’t answer,

he gave Rafe’s beautifully circumcised cock a gentle tug and asked, “Was your family

Jewish?”

Rafe still said nothing.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding intimacy all these years? So people would only

see what you wanted them to see?”

Rafe pulled his hand from Ben’s grasp and shoved away. Ben tried to catch him as

he rose, but Rafe eluded him, fumbling with his drawstring as he went.

“Wait, don’t run away.”

Rafe went to the window and shifted the drapes just enough to peer out. “Fine,

Sherlock Holmes. You’ve made your brilliant deductions.”

Ben followed Rafe and stood just behind him. “Is that why you’re still hiding?”

Silence
. “Rafe?”

“It’s Rolf.
Rolf Kohn
.”

“Really?” Ben let himself be distracted by the name for a second. “Rolf?”

“Yes, and unless it’s a crime to live without religion in America, I believe you can

just leave through the back door, and we can be done.”

“What do you mean
we can be done
? Why would we be done?”

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131

Shivers racked Rafe's slender frame. “Because I’m a coward. Because I’m weak. You

couldn’t possibly still want someone like me.”


What
?” Ben tried to turn Rafe, but he wouldn’t budge.

“I thought I could leave painful things behind. I built a house of lies here, and it’s

all coming down on my head.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Come here.” Ben wrapped himself around Rafe then—just

pulled him into his body, misery and all. “I want to know your story, Rafe. It changes

nothing.”

“It changes everything. Everything I am is a lie.”

“Oh, honey, no.
You
are not a lie,” Ben said gently. “You’ve never lied to me. Not

about the important things. Tell me. I want to know what happened to you.”

Rafe pressed his forehead to Ben’s neck. “My father was a mathematics teacher, and

my mother took in sewing. That’s it. That was my family.”

“No brothers or sisters?”

Rafe shook his head. “Come with me.”

Rafe took Ben’s hand and led him to his office, where he pulled a small box from his

desk.

“You should see them if you want to know them.”

Ben watched Rafe’s face carefully for clues how to proceed. He hadn’t intended to

pry, but he couldn’t bear to have lies between them. He watched Rafe pull out a

number of tiny photographs and lay them out on the desk. So small. He’d never seen

pictures like that.

“They’re tiny.”

“I took these with a Minox. My father gave it to me just before I…before they sent

me to Switzerland. At the time, I thought it was so very exciting. It’s a spy camera. For

my father and myself, it was a special notion to be secretive. I should take pictures of

Z. A. Maxfield | Secret Light

132

my journey so we could look at them together later. I was not to tell anyone I had a

camera.”

Ben’s eyes stung. “They must have loved you very much.”

“I never realized how much. The camera was a tremendous extravagance on a

teacher’s pay.”

“So you took the pictures?”

“I took these before I left.” He tapped his finger on the picture of a pretty blonde

woman with light, merry eyes. Rafe didn’t have to tell him that was his mother. He had

the look of her. “Mutti.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“The three of us lived in this apartment in Vienna. Here's Papa.” He tapped a

picture of a good-looking man in front of a lovely brick building with attractive white

cornices and trim. “Austria was still independent, and my parents had hope things

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