Chapter 22
JETT
I was a shit intelligence agent. How was I still employed? I didn’t hide my emotions well, and so far, I’d been so inconsistent with my cover story as to resemble the holiest of swiss cheese.
The notes app in my phone was full of the inconsistencies I’d spilled, either accidentally before I thought it mattered or on purpose to find a balance between what I’d already spilled and the need to keep some semblance of cover.
“Fuck,” I breathed as I finally escaped to my bathroom for a break from the strange new tension rolling off Locke.
It was clear that whatever was happening during all those work calls was impacting his ability to enjoy the Paxis game. He’d come out of the game room coiled tighter than a snake.
He hadn’t mentioned what contraband he was looking for, but for it to cause the amount of stress he seemed to suddenly be carrying, it had to be big.
Humans? Weapons? Hazardous chemicals?
Was it related to the work my fellow ESP agents were doing in Brunsbüttel?
If there were humans or weapons on a ship, ESP needed to know about it, but there was no way I could contact Rocky from inside this house. First of all, a text wouldn’t be enough. She’d immediately pick up the phone to ask me a million questions.
And I was way too paranoid to have this conversation under the same roof with Esteban Alvarado, not to mention the sheer amount of guilt I already felt at betraying Locke. It would somehow be worse if I did it steps away from his own bedroom.
Maybe I could get out after dinner and take a run on the streets around the villa with my phone.
But—and add this to the list of reasons I was not going to be making ESP’s Agent of the Year—none of those things were first and foremost on my mind the way they should’ve been.
The new thread of danger and intrigue was kind of… doing it for me.
Locke had been pretty fucking irresistible when I’d thought he was a boring, workaholic chess player. Now it seemed the boring chess player had secrets. And secrets were like candy to me.
The kind of candy that made me stupid. That made me spend too much time in the bathroom prepping for sex that Locke surely wouldn’t agree to give me.
I left the bathroom and returned to the sitting room.
When I returned to the room, Locke glanced up from his work.
“Tell me about Santiago Alvarado.”
I blinked. “I told you. I met him in the gym last night. He came in when I was almost done with my run.”
“He spoke to you.”
“I mean, yeah? It was just the two of us in a room, so it would have been strange not to at least say hello.”
“What else did he say?”
I wondered what information he was looking for, exactly. “To be honest, I think he was flirting.”
Locke let out a grunt of amusement, his shoulders finally lowering a little. “Yes, princess. He was definitely flirting. The man would fuck a statue if it stroked his ego.”
His words were insulting, whether he’d meant them that way or not. It was enough to get my back up and want to repay the insult.
“At least someone around here wanted to fuck me last night,” I said, raising my eyebrows in challenge.
Locke’s nostrils flared. This time, there was no clenching of the jaw. No hesitation.
“Get on the bed. Clothes off. Ass up.” His eyes narrowed. “If this is your way of asking for sex, I am not impressed.”
I watched him carefully for a beat.
But you sure are interested.
I bit back the grin and moved quickly to his bedroom, yanking my clothes off so fast he wouldn’t have time to change his mind.
“Lube in the bedside table,” he said in a deep voice behind me. “Prep yourself.”
If only he knew. This boy came desperately pre-prepped. My knees weren’t interested in spending any more time at his feet for the time being, and my prostate was crying out for attention. Besides, I wanted to push his limits, see what he was and wasn’t willing to do with me.
Apparently, possibly being involved in global criminal conspiracies wasn’t a deal breaker for my neglected gland.
I wasn’t proud, okay? I was desperate.
I’d seen the way he’d reacted to my body, but the heated look on his face when he’d watched me finger myself two nights ago was a thousand times more confirmation of just how badly he wanted this.
I moved onto the bed on my hands and knees before dropping to my elbows and waggling my ass.
“Stop fucking around,” he said, although I could hear the laugh in his voice. “I’m supposed to be working.”
After grabbing the lube and making a show out of fingering myself with it, I returned to the knees and elbow ass-waggle. “Let’s go. Apparently, Grandpa doesn’t have all day.”
Locke moved up behind me and slapped one of my ass cheeks. “Smart-ass,” he mumbled. “Maybe I need a little help to get hard for someone who gives me such grief.”
I felt the heavy length of his erection brush against the back of my thigh. “I’ve heard that happens to men of a certain age.” As soon as he pressed the tip of his cock into my hole, I sucked in a breath. “Oh fuck.”
I wanted this, him, so much more than I cared to admit. He was hot and commanding. And he had a fucking incredible cock.
Even if letting him fuck me while I had so many unanswered questions about him required an unprofessional amount of cognitive dissonance.
Locke’s warm palm landed on my lower back. “Breathe.”
“I know how to take a dick,” I croaked, trying to relax, even though it had been almost a year since I’d bottomed for anyone.
He leaned over me, the coarse hair from his abdomen scratching my skin and his hot breath warming the center of my back. “You don’t know how to take my dick,” he said in a low voice.
The whimper that escaped me was embarrassing. My face flooded with heat, and so did my dick. It hung heavily between my legs, but I was too busy bracing for Locke’s thrusts to reach for it.
He continued to push forward, stretching me to the limits until my body began to sweat and my breathing shallowed.
“Breathe,” he said again.
“You try taking this thing and breathing through it,” I hissed.
He pulled out carefully, but before I could snap at him to get back in there, I felt the cool slick of lubed fingers instead.
“I should be insulted that you didn’t stretch yourself enough,” he chuckled, his hot breath still landing on my back until my arms prickled in goose bumps. “You must think I’m small.”
“Or I think I’m desperate,” I admitted. “Hurry.”
“Nah. I think I’ll take my time.”
“They’re going to come get you for the game, fuck!” He hit my prostate with a long finger, sending my thoughts to the wind and all my nerves into live wires. “Fuck.”
“I don’t care about the game right now. I care about fucking you into this mattress.”
“Yeah,” I panted, brain long gone on an extended vacation. “Okay. Good.”
He took his sweet fucking time with it, stretching me until I could have taken a fucking barn if I had to.
By the time he finally gave me his dick again, I wanted to cry. Instead, I only whimpered a little bit more.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Just like that. Good.”
One of Locke’s hands was on my shoulder, the other on my hip.
I felt the length of his hairy legs against the back of mine and wondered for just a split second how he felt about fucking a man for the first time.
But as soon as his cock moved against my gland, I stopped caring about anything other than getting off.
“Do not touch your cock,” he warned in a commanding voice.
“Asshole,” I choked out. “Why not? I want to come.”
He sped up his thrusts until the sound of his hips slamming into my ass filled the space around us. “You will. But not yet,” he gritted out.
And then he moved the hand from my shoulder into the back of my hair. Just when I thought he was going to push my face further into the sheets, his thumb moved to my cheek and gently brushed a line from my jaw up to my temple.
What the…?
The orgasm slammed into me without warning. After being on the knife’s edge, I’d thought I needed to stroke myself off to find relief. I cried out in surprise.
He grunted his approval, sounding more satisfied than he deserved, before slamming into me a final time with a guttural noise and a bit-off curse.
Oh my fucking god. My chest heaved with strangled breaths while I collapsed carefully onto the bed. Locke pulled out of me, pressing a hand above my tailbone and then caressing my ass cheek before pulling away and climbing off the bed.
“Told you so.”
I turned to watch as he disappeared into the bathroom, the clench and bounce of his ass a reward for my efforts.
I didn’t have the oxygen to bark back a smart response, so I simply stared while my breath sawed in and out of me. The sound of the shower hit my ears.
“You coming?” he called before adding, “What am I saying? You already did.”
I huffed out a laugh and pushed myself off the bed and out of the puddle of cooling jizz on the sheets. Mental note to find someone to change those.
When I entered the bathroom, he was already scrubbing himself. “Do you need me to wash you again?” I asked, unsure of my role now that the sex was over.
“Get in here.”
I stepped into the shower and nudged him out of the way to rinse myself off. Surprisingly, he moved over and leaned against the cool tile wall. Then his eyes did a slow up-down I felt all the way to my damned toes.
“I enjoyed fucking you.”
Jesus, this man had the magical ability to reinflate empty nuts. “Glad you’re getting your money’s worth. Jeremiah. Jedidiah? Jucifer?”
“Nope. None of those.”
He stepped forward and reached for my face with an open hand. I watched him carefully, unsure of what he had in mind.
The kiss shocked all the thoughts out of my head. When he’d first initiated a kiss with me—the night in the pool—I’d been shocked. But then he’d been wildly unpredictable.