pocket. Taking his time, he removed his wet coat and hat and hung them over a chair. The layout of the house was firmly stored in his head so he could move confidently to the front door and set the dead bolts. Secure in the knowledge that Brock would not be able to run, he crept up the stairs and peered around the door of the guest bedroom. Kyle had to bite down on his lip as he saw the young man in the bed, sleeping deeply. Brock had pushed the covers down to his hips, one arm was flung out to the side and his smooth, hairless chest rose and fell gently as he breathed. His face was a little flushed but other than that, he seemed perfectly at peace. Kyle resisted the temptation to pull the covers down a little further, backed away and headed silently downstairs to the kitchen. He took one of the chairs set around the kitchen table and turned it so that he could face the door to the hall then he settled down to wait.