Chapter Twenty
GOLD
He’d always been a selfish lover, but with Whip, he wanted to change.
He wanted to savor every fucking minute and every inch of this man, but suddenly buried balls deep inside of Whip made him lose his head.
Whip sank his teeth into the side of his neck, drawing a hiss.
“Axel,” Whip begged, his own voice rougher than he’d ever heard it.
Fuck this.
He rolled them until Whip was straddling him. Long strands of wet blond hair spilled over the man’s shoulders.
After a beat, Axel placed the tip of his cock at Whip’s entrance and slipped inside. Whip fell forward, hands on his shoulders, and sank his ass down.
Taking him deep.
Fuuuck.
Before long, Whip was pressing kisses to his neck and grinding down on his cock. All he could do at that very moment was hold onto his hips to keep the pace steady.
“Right there,” Whip breathed, breath charged.
Axel gripped the back of Whip’s head and drew him down to slide his tongue in his mouth, biting at his lips as the heat blasted between them.
Their mouths locked in a silent battle.
He ran his hand over every inch of skin he could reach before gripping Whip’s hips again. Damp skin, he gripped the man’s hips and sent his own thrusting up.
Whip groaned, broke the kiss, and sat up, using his thighs to ride his cock.
Grabbing the lube from the bed, Axel dumped it on Whip’s cock and squeezed it tight.
“Oh fuck, you’ll make me come,” Whip hissed, dropping his head back.
The sight sent precome leaking from his own dick. He was seconds away from exploding.
“Come.”
He paused for a beat and then picked up a much slower stroke on Whip’s cock.
“Ohhhh, fuck yeah,” Whip panted.
Axel felt the man pulse in his hand, warm come jetting across his own chest, and he nearly lost his own load. He ran the pad of his thumb over the crown where he smeared the come. Whip moaned, shuddering.
The sight. Fuck. So fucking hot. Pleasure crashed through his gut and tightened his balls.
He lost it.
He exploded and sent several more jerking thrusts. His orgasm rolled over him, blurring everything but this moment as he emptied his balls.
Above him, Whip ground down, taking everything he had to give.
Including his heart.
Rain hammered the hotel windows hard enough to blur the skyline into shades of gray.
Axel wandered into the kitchenette wearing a T-shirt, jeans, and yesterday’s satisfied grin.
The coffee maker looked simple enough.
Five minutes later, it was making noises that suggested otherwise.
He finally convinced it to cooperate and turned his attention to the basket of complimentary pastries sitting beside it.
Free was free.
He tore open a package and took a bite.
Not bad.
The bedroom door clicked open behind him.
Whip shuffled into the room, barefoot, hair sticking out in every direction.
Axel smiled before he could stop himself.
Morning looked good on him.
Whip caught him looking.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
Axel crossed the kitchen, leaned in, and stole a quick kiss before Whip could protest.
“There, that’s better.”
Whip huffed a laugh.
Then noticed the pastry wrapper.
“…You’re actually eating that?”
Axel looked down at it.
“It’s free.”
Whip stared at him for a long second.
“So’s the shampoo.”
Axel took another bite.
“This tastes better.”
Whip made a face that suggested he wasn’t convinced either one was fit for human consumption.
The coffee maker gave one last sputter before falling silent.
Whip poured himself a cup, sniffed it suspiciously, then looked out the window.
Rain pounded against the glass.
“You think Seattle knows it’s allowed to stop?”
Axel joined him.
“Looks expensive.”
“What?”
“All that rain.”
Whip blinked.
“You think rain costs money?”
“Has to come from somewhere.”
Whip laughed into his coffee.
“Well, there goes my plan to see the Space Needle.”
Axel looked through the gray curtain outside.
“Still there.”
“You can’t even see it.”
“Doesn’t mean it left.”
Whip snorted.
“What about Pike Place?”
“In this?” Axel shook his head. “Fish are probably throwing people.”
Whip smiled over the rim of his mug.
“The underground tour?”
“Underground sounds dry.”
“With our luck it’d flood.”
“Good point.”
Axel reached for another pastry.
Whip watched him.
“You’re really going to eat a second one.”
“They’re free.”
Whip turned and looked out the window. Axel set the pastry aside, stepped up behind him, and wrapped his arms around the man’s waist. He rested his chin on Whip’s shoulder and nuzzled him.
“Mmm.” Whip leaned back against him.
Axel smiled against his neck.
Then the bedroom door opened.
Knox wandered out in gym shorts and a T-shirt, scratching the back of his head. He took one look at the kitchenette, completely unfazed by finding them wrapped around each other.
Good. He couldn’t give a fuck who knew. He wasn’t about to start pretending.
“You made coffee?”
Axel reluctantly stepped from beside Whip and reached for his forgotten pastry.
“It’s suspect.”
Knox poured himself a cup anyway. “One way to find out.”
He grabbed one of the pastries without hesitation and tore into it.
Whip winced.
“You’re eating that too?”
Knox looked between the pastry in his hand and the one Axel was halfway through.
“Should I not be?”
“They’ve got a shelf life measured in presidential terms,” Whip said.
Knox shrugged.
“Free food tastes better.”
Axel pointed his pastry at him. “See?”
Whip looked betrayed.
“There are two of you.”
“There has always been two of us,” Knox said around another bite.
Axel hid a grin behind his coffee.
Knox wandered over to the window and looked outside.
“Well…” Rain battered the glass.
“Guess we’re not seeing the Space Needle,” Whip sighed.
Axel shrugged.
“Still there.”
Knox looked at him.
“You guys always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Talk in half sentences like the other one already knows the rest.”
Whip took a sip of coffee.
Knox shook his head. “I liked it better when you just argued about everything.”
He took another bite of pastry. “These are actually pretty good.”
Whip made another face.
“You deserve whatever preservatives are in those.”
Knox grinned. “They’ll preserve me.”
Later that morning…
Inside the conference room at the Seattle U.S. Marshals office, Davis dimmed the lights and clicked the remote. An aerial photograph of an isolated property filled the screen.
The projector cast the image across one wall of the conference room. Boone stood with his arms folded near the back while the rest of the task force settled around the long table, coffee cups forgotten as every set of eyes shifted to the screen.
“Five acres. One access road. Eight adults we know about, maybe more. Our confidential source confirmed Cutter arrived sometime yesterday.”
The next slide showed a weathered farmhouse, several outbuildings, and a scattering of trucks.
“We have enough for surveillance,” Davis continued. “Not enough for a clean tactical entry without somebody getting hurt.”
Boone folded his arms.
“So, we’re going to give him one chance.”
The room quieted.
“Cutter knows two of you,” Boone said, looking toward the back of the room. “He’s been running from these two since Oregon.”
Axel glanced at Whip.
Davis nodded. “Whip, Axel, you’re making the approach.”
Knox straightened in his chair.
“Hold on. You’re sending only two onto a property you think is sheltering a violent fugitive?”
“They won’t be alone,” Davis said. “Cho, Alvarez, Beth, Miller, and the rest of us will have the perimeter covered. If Cutter refuses to surrender, the operation changes.”
“Sir,” Knox said, still frowning, “with all due respect… why just them? Why not a team?”
“Because,” Boone answered evenly, “if Cutter sees a stack of armored deputies rolling through that gate, he’ll run.”
He looked at Whip and Axel.
“If he sees the two marshals who’ve been chasing him for the last two weeks… he just might stop long enough to make a mistake.”
No one spoke.
Boone broke the silence.
“Questions?”
“Nope,” Axel said.
He wanted to nail Clay Cutter and Oscar Charleston.
Then he wanted a couple of days with Whip that didn’t involve warrants, radios, or gunfire.
He figured they’d earned that much.