Chapter 12 #3
Something warm burns in my chest, and I feel like I’m being dared to cross lines.
Something about his words sounds like a challenge—like he wants me to push him.
I could be reading this wrong, but if we’re going to get over this, I have to test the waters.
I have to see what he’ll let me get away with.
“I bet I can make you talk.”
His eyes widen. It’s obvious this conversation isn’t going the way he expected. It’s not going the way I expected, and I started it. I set my coffee cup down and walk over, almost close enough to straddle his lap.
His breath catches in his chest as I stare down at him. “Is your name actually Thorne?”
“It is.”
“Why?”
“You’d have to ask my parents. Icelandic roots, I guess.”
My brows fly up. That’s interesting. He doesn’t look Icelandic. Then again, I don’t know what Icelandic is supposed to look like. So maybe he does.
I bite my lip and watch him watch me. His pupils are getting bigger. “Are you going to arrest me for trying to buy TNT?”
“No.”
“I’m not worth it?”
His hand twitches, then lifts, and he touches my hip, fingers digging in slightly.
“You’re worth a lot of things, Leaf. You don’t belong in jail though.
Maybe don’t go on the dark web to buy shit anymore because it actually is dangerous.
If I hadn’t answered your ad, someone else might have shown up, and then it could have been you we found buried on this property. ”
I feel the blood drain from my face a bit. “How many murderers have you caught?”
“A few.”
“I want a number.”
He takes a breath. “I can’t tell you that.”
Humming, I spread my legs and hover over his thighs, then reach down to pull his shirt up until his nipples are exposed. Making a claw, I scratch down one side, and the left one pebbles. His breath hitches in his chest.
“Does anyone you work with know you’re here?”
He shudders as I take his nipple between my thumb and finger, pinching hard before rolling it. His hips shift restlessly. “I can’t…tell you that. Fuck.”
I sink down onto his lap, and my fingers go for his zipper. His cock is straining against his boxers, and it only takes a small tug to the side for me to free it. It’s flushed and hard, wet at the tip.
I fight the urge to lower my head, kneel between his legs, and suck him down to the back of my throat. I’m obsessed with giving this guy blowjobs. Liar or not.
So instead, I curl my fingers around him and begin to jerk him off—slow and light. I can tell from the frustrated way he grunts and curls his hands into fists that it’s not tight enough. That he wants more.
“What can you tell me?” I ask.
He huffs and bows his head. “That I want to be here.”
“Not enough.”
“That I like you.”
I stroke him faster, squeezing a little harder. “Try again,” I murmur.
His eyes are on my lips, reading them. “I can’t.” I speed up, and he gasps. His hips move as he chases his orgasm. I wait, watching, and the moment he stiffens, I let go entirely.
“Fuck, fuck,” he cries out, bowing against me. I catch his shoulders and hold on to him. When he leans back to look at me, his eyes are blazing. “Leaf,” he growls.
My own dick perks up at that sound, so I grab his again and start from the beginning. Loose touch, soft strokes. I can feel his frustration rising.
“Why are you here? Why go through all of this?”
“I wanted a case. A big case,” he gets out. My hand speeds up more, the tips of his ears turning red. “They took me out of the field.”
Grabbing his chin, I reward him with a messy kiss. “Was I your big case?”
“You could have been. Should have been,” he grits out, then tenses again. I let go, and my dick kicks at the sound of his chest-deep groan. “Fuck you.”
I laugh. “You wish you were.”
When I grab his dick again, he meets my gaze. “Let me come.”
“I will. But not yet.” I begin to stroke him again, a bit harder to start, and a bit faster. “Are you stuck on the desk because you’re hard of hearing?”
“Going deaf,” he grunts, his hips moving in time with my arm.
I should stop him, but I don’t. I’ll probably let him come this time.
I am very benevolent like that. “Profoundly. Prognosis,” he gets out.
He’s half-gone at the moment. His eyes are glazed over, and his cheeks are ruddy. “It’s happening fast.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” He stops. “It’s not fine. I didn’t want to leave my job like this.
I wanted to go on my own terms. To walk away for my own personal morals or because it was the right thing to do.
But this disorder took my choice away from me.
” My arm goes faster, and I twist up at the head, then dig my nail into his slit, making him gasp and grunt.
He fucks his hips up, thrusting into the circle of my fingers.
“So…I wanted people to remember me f-for…for…”
I slow down, and he groans. “For?”
“Being a good agent. A good person, who fought for actual justice. Not being the guy who went deaf. The agent that got chained to a desk to rot.”
“And you saw an opportunity with me?”
His gaze meets mine, and suddenly, his hand closes over my wrist. I test him, trying to pull back, but he doesn’t let me. He begins to guide my arm faster and faster. Until the muscle is burning.
“You were an opportunity,” he whispers. I’m not sure he can even hear himself.
“And then you were more. I’ve always known I liked the look of men, but I’ve never touched one until you.
I was never tempted enough until I walked into that motel room and saw you.
” His free hand reaches between us, and he gets my dick out, immediately matching my pace.
My vision goes white at the edges. “You pounced on me. You kissed me. Made me feel things I didn’t know I could feel. I didn’t want you to be a killer.”
“And if I was?” I press. Both of his hands are in control now, and I rock on his lap as he thrusts against me. “Would you have sent me to jail?”
“Yes.”
“Would you have waited for me?”
There’s a very long pause, and then he surges forward and sets his lips on mine, devouring me with his kiss. It’s too much, the sensation of his tongue in my mouth, his hand on my cock, his other hand forcing me to stroke him faster, squeeze harder.
I have no control. I suck in a breath, and then I come so hard I see stars. My back arches, and hot spurts of my release hit him on his chest. He lets go of my arm a moment later, and I feel the wetness spilling from his cock.
It dribbles over mine, making a mess.
My breath hitches in my lungs as he wraps both arms around me and holds me tight against him. I’m barely aware of what’s real and what isn’t, but I do know that I never want to let go. I never want this to stop.
After what feels like an actual forever, he murmurs against my temple, “I would have waited.”
It takes me a moment to realize he’s answering my question. And not just answering it, but for the first time since we met, he’s telling the entire truth.