Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Dylan leans forward, putting his forearm flat against the wall and resting his head on it. “Do it.”
My first thrust is slow, testing him, and then each time I move inside him, it’s faster. Harder.
The only sound to pass his lips is the harsh breath he lets out every time I pass over his prostate.
I do as he asked and take him the way I did the night we met, and if I close my eyes, I can imagine we’re back in that club, the music pumping outside the bathroom with my heart matching the beat of the bass. The smell and sounds of sex and seedy nightclub fill my senses, and it’s almost enough to send me over the edge.
“Dylan …” My tone holds warning and need.
“I’m almost …” He grunts. “Fuck.” He sounds like he’s struggling to get there. He’s close but not ready to fall yet.
My usual MO would be to give him a helping hand and jerk him off, but that’s not how it happened. So instead, I move a hand into his thick hair and grip to the point his scalp has to be stinging.
I lean in and say in his ear, “You promised me you’d come untouched, so give it to me.”
Dylan turns his head, and my unfocused gaze zeroes in on his deep brown eyes. “I need you to promise me something first.”
I slow my thrusts. “Anything.”
“Come back to me.” The faint words are barely heard.
“I will always come back to you,” I promise.
Then I kiss his jaw and feel it tense under my lips.
He starts to move first, fucking himself on my cock, and then when I match his rhythm, he grits his teeth as his whole body stiffens and he comes. I keep fucking him through his orgasm, his ass gripping me so tight, it only takes a few more pumps for me to empty inside him.
It hits me with such force, I have to brace my hand against the wall to hold me up and prevent me from crushing Dylan.
And when we both slowly calm down, I reluctantly pull out of him. I don’t let go of him, though. I can’t. Not after the promise I made him.
I lower my head and rest it in between his shoulder blades.
He allows it for a little while, but then he starts squirming. “I can feel your cum dripping out of me. I need to clean up.”
“I’ll help you.”
He laughs. “Sure. Help.” He tries to walk away, but I grab his wrist and pull him back to me.
“Let me take care of you.”
Dylan closes his eyes, lets out a shuddery breath, and nods.
I grab the two towels Saint left for us last night and wrap one around Dylan’s waist. “Shower’s across the hall.”
When I’m covered with my towel, Dylan takes my hand and pulls me with him, then watches as I get the shower ready for him.
I gesture for him to climb in the shower-bath combo, but he stays leaning against the vanity with his arms folded.
“What’s wrong?”
“Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“That you’ll come back. That this won’t end after Walker’s taken down.”
My voice gets stuck in my throat because I’m not comfortable answering that in a way that sounds definite. Do I want to come back to him? Yes. Will I do everything in my power to make it happen? Also yes. But going into a job—any job—and having the pressure of coming out the other side alive is new to me.
Other than my family, I’ve never had someone ask me to stay alive just so I can come back to them.
I approach him, wrapping him in my arms, and murmur into his neck, “No matter what happens, I will always want you. I will always fight to come home to you. And if you’ll have me, I’ll keep doing it.”
It’s the closest I can get to promising him a future when I risk my life every other day. I hope it’s enough.
And when he pulls my towel free from my waist and pushes me into the shower while kissing me and touching me all over my body, I know it’s the closest he’ll get to acceptance.
All my guys are in place. They’ve been camped out at the abandoned warehouses since last night, keeping an eye on everything and making sure Walker doesn’t do the exact same thing we’re doing—creating contingencies for if this plan becomes FUBAR.
Our plan is simple, but if it works, we’ll get everything we want. Saint’s on comms, watching and listening through our devices and logging it all to turn over to authorities when it’s done. The only trick will be to get Walker to incriminate himself or shoot someone on video. Hopefully that’s a last resort, though.
Our target is to clear Dylan’s name with little to no bloodshed. Okay, maybe a little bloodshed on Walker’s part, but I promised Dylan I’d try not to kill him.